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moonbaby26 · 1 day

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Title: The Best Laid Plans

(Chapter 18 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader, Doflamingo x Caesar Clown (implied), Smoker x Reader (referenced)

Chapter Warnings: language, reader is still going through it, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, manipulation, breeding kink, Doflamingo is a freak (as always)

Chapter Synopsis: The morning after your and Doflamingo’s public engagement and actual marriage, he’s already working towards what he wants from you next. And you begin learning a bit more about the family you’ve now been chained to. All while this news of your union begins affecting even those who want nothing to do with you.

A/N: Not fully proofread! I will buzz back through later to clean up mistakes. I had a personal goal to post an update by this weekend, and I wanted to stick to it. 🫡

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18

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——————————

“I have to say…this is unusual, Caesar. Am I to feel like the pay I’ve already wired was insufficient this time? Or have you just had higher priorities this week outside of me?”

Caesar Clown was staring at that snail on the lab table in front of him, and the wholly disappointed edge behind every additional word.

Simply not answering Joker’s phone calls at any hour they might come had never been an option. Punk Hazard was far too close to Dressrosa for one thing. And Doflamingo’s warlord status allowed him impromptu visits whenever he’d wished on this otherwise restricted government island.

But even more important than that constant threat of his proximity, was the fact that Caesar wanted to answer when this man called for him.

Everything about Doflamingo intrigued him really. Every new test of his scientific skills that the pirate could offer him, every new payday, and every thrill of power by association that came along with it all.

Joker had a way about him that just couldn’t be refused, an equally dangerous and charismatic provider like no other.

And this conflict of emotion was only further proven in the way Caesar’s stomach twisted with fear, simultaneous to his face flushing with embarrassment as he tried to lie. “I just wanted this to be perfect for you, Joker. That’s all.”

The truth and real reason for Caesar’s unexpected delay was something far different of course. A setback that the scientist had no idea how to yet articulate when it involved his favorite client so personally as this.

Because the flaw wasn’t in the new concoction itself that Caesar had already created. It was in the biology of the man who had commissioned it.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just needs to work as I instructed.” The other responded so flatly though, still unaware of what new knowledge Caesar was now hiding. “Did the news coos come by Punk Hazard yet this morning?” He asked almost conversationally next though.

“No.” Caesar was quick to answer a bit louder then, eager to divert to another subject if even briefly. “Why? Did something happen?”

The snail finally smiled a little there.

“I’m calling because I moved the timetable up again yesterday. At the colosseum in front of everyone actually. I can’t help it I guess. When I want something, I just take it.” Doflamingo answered far more smugly at that.

“Oh?” Caesar was twirling the phone cord between his fingers nervously now. He remembered well the urgency of their last conversation. Because Joker had obviously selected you as his broodmare of choice well before taking this public.

And why not?

The sheer vanity of the idea was appealing to Caesar as well. Taking a fiery, desirable woman and riding her into submission until she ultimately bore fruit. It sounded like a good time to him as well.

“It’s an official betrothal then?” Caesar could guess as much then.

The snail smirked again. “Yes, it went well. You should have heard the roaring of that crowd.”

But just when Caesar had started to feel the smallest bit of calm when Doflamingo had begun to further gloat, those words turned sharp again in an instant.

“So I want that serum in my hands by tomorrow night at latest, Caesar. I can’t wait any longer. Can you make that happen for me or not?”

Even when posed as a question, there was only ever one possible answer of course.

“Yes, Joker.”

The drug was already ready by Caesar’s standards. It’d force ovulation regardless of any contraceptive previously in your system. And it’d grant resilience in the fetus to the most common toxins, preventing either accidental or purposeful chemical abortion in at least the timeframe until it could be old enough to survive outside of your body anyway. Also with some other chemicals added to further the thickening of the uterine wall and amniotic sac for a bit more physical protection too.

Forced reproduction is what this plan truly was. But the devil always remained in the details.

Though confident as always in his own work, Caesar had still snuck what should have only been an uneventful peek into Vegapunk’s data from the currently unnamed warlord project as well.

All the warlords’ genomes and lineage factors had already been mapped out by Vegapunk. Made from clandestine samples taken from each warlord at the time of the signing of their government contracts in Mariejois.

So in only a single afternoon, Caesar had scoured through Doflamingo’s file. Just double checking for anything obvious. Any potentially debilitating mutations that could interfere in successful fertilization and healthy fetal development regardless of Caesar’s drug’s limited protections.

The scientist did not want to be blamed for a wild card like that after all.

But there, deep into those genetic markers, he had found something that was indeed a hard stop. Nothing that uncommon he guessed, but the absolute opposite of what this plan needed to be successful.

“Will…you be arriving here to pick up the product yourself then?” Caesar felt like those next words were coming out of his mouth on their own now.

Joker was exponentially faster in the sky than any ship could hope to be on the water. It’d grant Caesar nearly a whole additional day of lab time if Doflamingo came here himself instead of having the drug shipped to Dressrosa.

It’d also give Caesar a chance to dose the pirate with something complimentary to that formula being given to you. Perhaps Doflamingo’s one breeding fault Caesar had found could be temporarily corrected here as well.

The snail paused.

“You really need the extra time then…don’t you?” And there was a bit of new incredulousness in that tone that may have made Caesar proud in different circumstances.

Because he had never let Joker down prior to this moment. Thus the other’s natural surprise.

“It will be ready by then. I promise.” Caesar still tried to steady his voice.

He would do whatever he had to, to keep in the good graces of those beautifully deep pockets of course. Even if it meant degrading himself to finally ask for help from the last person he’d ever wish to as soon as this call would end.

“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow night.” Doflamingo’s voice eventually conceded to the new terms.

A rare mercy that further reinforced just how badly the Heavenly Demon must want this to happen with you.

“But no more extensions after this, Caesar.” He warned none the less.

“I understand, Joker. And it will be very good to see you again.” Caesar tried to throw on that additional subservience at the end at least, to finish on a good note so to speak.

Doflamingo did notice that difference in tone too. Because flattery was always appreciated, and a brief hint of flirtation even better. “Heh. I’ll be in a hurry. I can’t leave her alone for long. She just gets into trouble every time I do.”

“She does sound fun.” Caesar mused then, gladly sensing that returning deescalation which came with this bit of parting indulgence.

“She is. But I’m not sharing this one.” The snail grinned fully then. “So fantasize in private. And don’t miss a deadline with me again, dear Caesar.”

The snail disconnected with a click at that as the scientist was left still recovering, here alone in his lab.

He shivered, this new stress so very real as it ate through him.

Caesar knew what he had to do. It was the only way to fix this in the remaining time window available now.

And Vegapunk would be all the more insufferable after this impromptu request for collaboration he was sure.

But sacrifices had to be made, with Caesar’s own ego included in those losses for just this once.

Because Joker would have what he wanted.

Always.

——————————

This meeting had been scheduled ages before now.

Crocodile’s request for official residency in Alabasta was to either be approved or denied today.

But his initial months of planning that should have had him walking into this room as the vessel of vengeance in the young princess’s tragic ransom attempt gone wrong, had been derailed in a single evening.

Simply because you had to be in the wrong place at the right time.

Crocodile had always intended for his agents to kill Vivi. And then he would have killed them, dealing false justice and earning the full attention of Alabasta’s people.

King Cobra would then have had no choice, unable to publicly spurn the man who had captured and disposed of his precious daughter’s murderers.

And later, when the timing was fully right, Crocodile would have further pressed into that man’s paternal grief.

After getting all the information he’d need about the ancient weapon from the broken royal, it’d have been far too easy to then stage a suicide for Alabasta’s noble leader.

He’d have sewn the story of a father who just could never overcome the loss of his only child.

And with the people’s favor by then, and Vivi already gone to leave no Nefertari heir to contend with, Crocodile would have been poised to take over this country in the power vacuum which would have followed.

But no.

Because of you, that little blue haired girl whose corpse should have long been sealed away in the Nefertari tomb was now standing before him and actually smiling instead.

She had apologized profusely to the king for not being able to wait a moment longer to share her news as she’d entered the palace dining area where Crocodile and her father had still been talking business.

The royal family’s guard zoans, Chaka and Pell stayed close, but also were losing their air of professionalism as they tried to look over the girl’s shoulder while she presented that brand new news coo delivery to the table.

“Father! Please, may I call and congratulate her!?” The girl was practically vibrating in this new excitement.

But Crocodile’s teeth were already clenching against his cigar.

Because even from across the table, of course he’d recognized that fucking bird’s high cheek bones and dark glasses on the front page.

Every last bit of his restraint was being tested as the tip of his hook punctured the smallest hole into the tabletop now. Catching there in that new imperfection as his jaw tightened further.

And Nefertari, a literal king, was sitting there all the while, marveling at these images and the hyperbolic words of Morgans’ that accompanied them while he turned through those pages.

“My, it says they have been courting one another for years even. How unusual…a pirate and a marine.” Cobra said aloud with some added incredulousness. But only then seeming to remember his own pirate guest at all.

The almost sheepish look on the king’s face at that realization silently infuriated Crocodile all the more, before Cobra had the audacity to ask something even worse afterward.

“Besides being the ruler of Dressrosa, Doflamingo is also your colleague though. Are you close with him? Is this a surprise to you as well, Sir Crocodile?”

And it was also in the way that little girl’s bright eyes looked up to Crocodile with such anticipation for more details then. This insanity was beyond what the warlord could take.

Because it now surpassed all natural reason and probability the way that pink demon just kept ruining his life.

“Doflamingo does as he pleases. So I’m not surprised.” Crocodile’s deep voice somehow still managed rather noncommittally. His hand removing his cigar from his mouth then.

A tell they wouldn’t recognize. He was utterly seething.

Because that fucking, feathered whore could never stop being this ridiculous and over the top in every single thing that he did.

And for what reasoning this time? There was always a play, a scheme, or a manipulation when it came to Doflamingo.

Nothing was ever genuine, nothing ever truly real.

That creature was a narcissist, a sociopath, a nymphomaniac, and any other random assortment of mental conditions he chose from his grab bag of collected neuroses on any given day.

“Father, please may I call her?” Yet Vivi started once more, not dissuaded in the least by Crocodile’s lackluster response.

“Yes, of course. But with Igaram to assist you. A call from you is an official contact from Alabasta and the Nefertari family after all…and this would essentially be us reaching out to the Donquixote royals as well now if you speak directly to her.”

And this realization somehow delighted the girl even further. “Oh…yes, you’re right! She’ll be a queen soon. Maybe we can even go to the next Reverie together!”

Cobra chuckled at this. “It’s certainly possible now, isn’t it?”

The girl wasted no time however, having now received her father’s permission as she hurried back out of the room to no doubt find Igaram and make that call.

Which did remind Crocodile of his own brief interaction with you too of course. When you rather rudely rejected his flowers and their very efficient poison.

But now he knew why Doflamingo had not immediately struck back in retaliation for that.

This public exhibitionism was that idiot’s response.

“My apologies for that interruption, Sir Crocodile.” Cobra had turned his head back to look at him again then once Vivi had left. “My daughter doesn’t have many friends outside of this palace any longer, now that her prior playmates have moved on to Yuba. And after that incident in Scylla, I believe she’s found quite a female role model in that marine captain.”

Cobra glanced at that print one more time and your pictures there with his sentiment, smiling warmly before he closed the newspaper.

“You know…” He started again not long after. “I think times are beginning to change in this world. I have to admit, when you first asked months ago for my public blessing to transition your Rain Dinners casino into a more permanent residence here in our country, it didn’t seem wise to me given your nature of remaining a pirate.”

Crocodile was still holding his cigar between his fingers then, outwardly concealing his full disgust as he did at least listen.

“But, the warlord program has clearly been working well for Dressrosa. By all accounts, they are thriving under your peer Doflamingo. He protects them. And now, I’d say they’re on their way to having a rather selfless queen as well. What she did for us in Scylla, I will never be able to fully repay her for.”

And even Crocodile’s expression shifted slightly there. Because he felt that change coming in Cobra with these next words.

“But I’m going to try to. So yes, I wasn’t going to approve your official residency and citizenship request at first. Even with you being a warlord, I suppose I still had learned misgivings about what powerful pirates can do to weaker targets. Yet, I’ve thought about these prior prejudices so much in the days since our experience in Scylla. And the way that captain has obviously deemed Doflamingo at least, as worthy of a second chance in life.”

Cobra even sighed a little there, taking a brief sip of the still warm tea that his servants had prepared earlier. “And you and I both know she will face some ridicule and shame for this choice regardless, being that her partner is also still a pirate. This wasn’t the only reason for my change of heart, mind you. But, I can’t deny that my desire to help her, especially now, will be a large part of my decision.”

The king smiled again there, but with a seriousness that still showed his understanding of the gravity of what he was conceding. “So I do grant your request to stay in Alabasta, Sir Crocodile. Partly for your agreed protection of our coasts of course, as I realize more than ever, the enemies we still have in this world. But also because I want to show that men even with histories like yours and Doflamingo’s can be offered these mercies later in life if earned. We will stand with Dressrosa in this regard. I will publicly support her choice of allying with a warlord, by doing much the same here in Alabasta.”

Crocodile’s stare was wider then. His breathing had paused.

Nothing was ever supposed to truly surprise him. And his hand returned that cigar to his mouth as he forced a smile.

The fucking audacity of this all still had his blood running so hot. His heart was pounding with hidden rage. But even Crocodile’s pride couldn’t surpass his sheer ambition any longer. He knew goddamn well what this meant for him in the end.

This new way into Nefertari Cobra’s confidence and the secrets of this kingdom now came with the ungodly price tag of warming back up to the Donquixote family.

“A sound decision, your highness.” Crocodile drawled through an exhale of cigar smoke though. “I can certainly protect this kingdom just as well as Dressrosa has been taken care of as you said. But even more so, this feels a bit like providence doesn’t it? Why, with your daughter being saved by such dear friends of mine…”

Vomit would have been far more pleasant to roll out over his tongue than those words.

But Doflamingo could be baited and used in a heartbeat. He’d come here with you in tow without question if invited. Crocodile knew this. Just like the card games at his casino, as soon as one hand had folded, another had been dealt to him.

His false smile remained. “In fact, if you truly wish to put your support for that soon to be Dressrosan queen front and center in the public eye, why not ask her to visit here? An engagement party of sorts? As further reward for her sacrifices to your family of course...”

And now it was Cobra’s turn to look surprised, though not at all unwilling for this new idea. “Oh, Vivi would love that.”

“As would your subjects.” Crocodile agreed.

And he did see Cobra glance briefly back up to Chaka and Pell who were still observing this conversation hesitantly as his bodyguards.

“It has been ages since we’ve had a proper ball…” Cobra mused.

The two zoan users looked at one another, but their king didn’t give them any real chance to respond.

It was clear that this thought had rooted in his mind. “Notify Igaram please. We’ll go over the details together, and I’ll let Vivi offer the official invitation once decided.”

Yet it already was decided, wasn’t it? Crocodile saw that. Just as clearly as he dreaded what a reversal of his own word this would be. He had sworn to never work with that bird again.

But using someone wasn’t the same as working with them. Or even denying the full blown hatred that remained for them, now was it?

Crocodile would still tear through each and every one of you without a second’s hesitation if Pluton could finally be his. And then, all these days in hell would be but a distant memory.

Temporary tortures endured by him for the achievement of his broader goals.

And torture would be the proper word for what would be coming. Because he could envision that freakishly long tongue slipping out from behind those bright white teeth even now.

Doflamingo would be elated.

And Crocodile only had you to blame.

——————————

There’d been another note on the nightstand when you’d woken in Doflamingo’s bed in the morning sun. Just like that time on his ship on the way here from Scylla.

That beautiful handwriting that still seemed so disconnected from the ruthless individual who had penned it now stared up at you once more from clean, white paper.

The curves and flourishes almost looked like they could move, flowing as your eyes narrowed with your now splitting headache, sitting up alone in the bed to read it.

“Good morning, my drunken wife. Though if you can read this, then congratulations. You’ve rejoined the living.

I doubt you’d be in the mood for more pain medication after the last time. But all you need do is ask and I’ll still provide. There’s no reason for you to suffer needlessly. Unless you just enjoy it of course.

I tasked Baby 5 with watching the door out in my suite for you. No unexpected visitors this time. I had some very time sensitive calls to make however, or else I’d still gladly be tangled up beside you. But I’ll check in on you soon.

Yours,

-D.D.”

You closed your eyes briefly then, trying to focus enough to not want to scream.

The haze of yesterday and last night could have been easily dismissed as only a fever dream.

If not for the reality of the diamond ring still around your finger. The only thing you were wearing actually besides a pained scowl as you opened your eyes again and left the bed. Dehydrated as usual and wishing for any semblance of relief.

Even now, you had the instinct that you weren’t supposed to be exploring Doflamingo’s private chambers without him.

Probably why he’d given you your own room to begin with. A safer holding cell for when he was away, before you and Trebol had immediately destroyed it anyway.

But fuck it.

You were thirsty and still such a mess from last night as you crossed the bedroom.

And soon enough you found yourself standing alone in Doflamingo’s massive bathroom. With the centuries old mosaics and stonework that conflicted with his far brighter, modern tastes.

It wasn’t your first time being here. But without him even lurking just beyond the door to wait for you, it felt entirely different.

You did your business, relieving yourself and flushing the toilet before standing again. Your bare feet then met his tacky pink rug as you pressed up against the marble sink. The floral scents of his cologne bottles lined up on the counter only messed with your overtaxed senses further.

You turned on the water, washing your hands with one of his fancy soaps, and rinsing them well before cupping your hands under that stream to bring the cool relief to your face.

And you drank it afterward as well. Because to hell with his weird freakout about this very thing back at the villa. You drank that water several times in fact, refilling the makeshift bowl that was then your cupped hands pressed together.

But as you did turn the water off and straightened back up, you caught your own movement out the corner of your eye.

In that floor to ceiling mirror that was well big enough for even Doflamingo to fully admire himself in the nude.

And you’d seen him do it. One too many lingering glances towards his own image in that reflective glass after showering.

But all you saw now was nothing near as flawless as him as you made that same mistake of also looking for too long.

Into your tired, pained eyes. And over all the bruises now transitioning through every sequence of unnatural colors, while the trapped blood tried to dissolve for days at a time beneath your skin.

The shape of Doflamingo’s foot sole was still centered prominently over your sternum from that battle in the other bathroom as well. His love bites also along your shoulders and one deep enough to actually have thickly scabbed over on one of your hips.

You weren’t always quick enough with your armament when you were supposed to be experiencing pleasure. He’d kiss and lick you, bringing you nearly to orgasm, and then nail you with a real bite sometimes.

It furthered his arousal at the complete loss of your own in moments like that.

And you didn’t want to see this anymore.

Not right now.

You turned and stalked out of the bathroom before that disgust in yourself could fully take hold again. Before you could shatter that mirror and even the ancient stone behind it with your clenched fist.

Your luggage was just set against a wall in his bedroom when you came back to it. Like it didn’t belong here at all as you spitefully dug through it.

You put on your usual underwear, but with sweatpants over them this time. That and an old, long sleeve shirt as a top.

It was throw away shit, only fit for laying alone in a ship’s bunk late at night. But you were purposefully covering everything but your face, feet, and hands with it now.

You didn’t know what your plan even was anymore. You didn’t have one as you cracked open that tall bedroom door to exit into the hallway that led to the rest of the king’s suite.

And even with the warning of Doflamingo’s letter, you’d still paused at seeing Baby 5’s back while she stood silently at the window she’d apparently opened in the main sitting room.

She was staring out, not yet noticing you at all.

You’d considered still making a purposeful sound though. To spare you both the inevitable bad reaction of surprising her. You weren’t in the mood of dealing with that. But then you’d noticed the small cloud which rose up as she exhaled.

And something else still inside of you immediately reacted instead.

You didn’t know why. Because it wasn’t as if she was anyone you could actually help.

You couldn’t even help yourself in this place.

“And just how old are you to be doing that!?” You snapped at her regardless.

The girl made a frightened noise of course, eyes wide as she looked back over her shoulder with that lit cigarette still sticking out from between her lips.

Her hands went together in a begging gesture almost simultaneously too as her whole body then turned to face you in the realization of being caught. “He said you’d still be asleep! Please! Please don’t tell the Young Master!”

And her higher pitched plea was like a knife through your still throbbing head.

But you just couldn’t imagine why Doflamingo would care either. He’d thrown his child soldiers out into battle without hesitation for years. Why would any additional lung damage ever matter?

“What would he care?” You asked along with that thought as you approached. But your displeasure must have still been clear even as she didn’t answer.

One more look at you and she’d tossed that still lit cigarette right out of the open window rather than argue.

But that still wasn’t enough. Not for you. “Give it to me.” Your eyes narrowed at her anyway as you held your hand out tiredly, so close to her then.

“What?” She asked defensively, starting to back away.

“The pack, kid. Because you never answered me. What are you, fifteen?”

“Sixteen.” She looked at you with such indignity there, her defiance trying to return.

“Yeah, no damn difference.” But you saw the top of that small box sticking out of a pocket on the apron you hoped they didn’t make her wear. And you snatched the pack right from her, then and there.

“Hey!” She protested, exacerbating your headache yet again with the shrillness of her upset voice.

Your head was hurting enough that you made your own choice next. You were already over this hangover pain. You needed to feel, taste, or do something different. Anything.

Baby 5 had paused as you opened the confiscated box just as smoothly and removed a single cigarette from it.

It’s not like you’d ever said you were entirely fair either.

“Chill out. You owe me one for all your yelling anyway.” You sighed. “So give me a light, and I’ll at least let you keep the lighter.” You told her as you brought that fresh cigarette up to your own lips.

“You smoke?” She asked incredulously.

“No. Well, not cigarettes. Cigars…sometimes. I just-” But you realized that was far too honest for this moment. And you walked that comment back quickly. “No. I don’t smoke. Just light it already.“

It was not at all your desire to remind yourself of Smoker or anyone else right now. Of course he’d taught you how. Of course he’d let you try his, and thought it hot whenever you’d held one cigar between your fingers and the other between your teeth, breathing deeply for him while his own mouth had went to work much farther down your body.

You’d had your fun together. And it had meant something, at least to you. Those memories wouldn’t be erased just because Doflamingo said they should.

Yesterday, he’d told the papers you had no exes.

That it had always been him for as long as you’d been old enough to be with a man. That’s what that new timeframe meant, and you were sure he knew that.

He’d told them you’d been fucking a pirate since you’d even known how to fuck.

Baby 5 still stared at you, but she listened to your command regardless as she got the lighter from her other pocket. Likely just in that habit of her always being told what to do around here.

You bent down enough for her to light the cigarette as you inhaled slightly to get the burn going.

And you did cough a couple of times, that shitty taste one you probably should have long forgotten when you’d first tried and ultimately rejected these years ago as a chore girl.

Baby 5 watched that too, almost entranced for a moment before your hand suddenly moved and you tossed that nearly full pack of her remaining cigarettes right out of the window as well.

“Ah! Why!?” She yelled again, as if you’d wounded her physically that time. While her gaze followed the tumble of the box and its fall multiple stories down until it was out of sight.

“Because you don’t need it.” You grumbled, even with the utmost hypocrisy of taking yet another drag as you said so.

“And neither do you.”

Both you and the girl straightened up then, looking to the open archway that connected back to the rest of the royal suite.

Doflamingo’s long frame darkened it, slouched in that odd way of his with his hands in his pockets as he surveyed this new scene.

Yes, you were also starting to lose count of just how many times he’d now silently entered his own rooms to catch you off guard.

He must do it on purpose.

“Young Master! I didn’t do anything! I didn’t-” The teen tried.

“Out, Baby 5.” The warlord answered. Oddly calm, but non negotiable to his subordinate all the same.

And she didn’t have to be told twice. She slinked past him immediately, head down and fully submissive as she quickly exited.

Leaving you and Doflamingo then staring at one another with that burning cigarette still between your lips.

Your senses were still jumbled. You couldn’t yet feel his intent. And that worried you.

But it was a somewhat good sign when he did take off his glasses, propping them into his hair as usual when the two of you were alone. Though he still watched you sharply through his good eye.

“You love to test me…don’t you?” He said, straightening his tall posture as he moved closer.

And you held your ground, even when seeing his focus move critically back to that burning cigarette. “I’m having a rough morning. I just wanted a distraction.” You exhaled as you spoke.

But he was so close already then, bending down to grin at you as he inhaled that smoky exhale of yours right into his own lungs.

“And I hate the smell of your ‘distraction’, love…because it lingers. I’ve told them all so many times. Anywhere else they want, just not in my private rooms.”

Yet you remained still as Doflamingo’s hand exited his pocket to so purposefully come up towards your face. His long fingers ran along your cheek softly, just before he plucked that cigarette right from your unsuspecting mouth in one harsh motion.

Like yanking a weed out of a garden.

At least that’s what his brief glare seemed to say. That he was correcting you, just before his hungry lips covered where that cigarette had been.

And you didn’t stop him. He’d even made a wanting noise soon enough, one that sounded fully involuntary with his tongue seeking deeper entrance as you parted your lips for him.

His legs were bent as he tasted you and the remnants of that smoke, again and again actually.

And when he was done, you heard his harsher breathing just from that bit of intimacy. There was a reluctance in him even then as you saw that needful look briefly flicker through his eyes.

His other hand had now taken yours though while he began to lead you away from the window.

But not before he put that cigarette he’d abruptly taken from you into his own mouth.

“We are not making a habit of this. Do you understand?” He chided you again.

And of course you were staring, watching him smoke for the first time you’d ever seen.

He noticed your bit of awe too.

That taunting air of his resurfaced easily. “What? I’ve tried it all. Everything at least once. And many things several times more.” He didn’t even cough as you had, like he was proving that point. His lungs clearly didn’t care about this fresh assault.

“But like I said…” His lips downturned then as the humor left as quick as it had come. “I’ll never tolerate this specific smell on my things again.”

And you were now one of those “things” to him you were sure. With the further squeezing of his large hand around your smaller one just reiterating this idea, before he took and tossed that last cigarette out of the window as well to walk on with you.

“It actually takes years to fade you know.” He added even more seriously, not looking back at you anymore then.

He was pulling you now.

“Doffy…” It was obvious you didn’t have the will to resist him today. But he was already leading you both back towards the bedroom, which felt fully ridiculous and unwanted for you in this moment

Because he’d had all he wanted last night. You’d been a little drunk doll for hours, positioned this way and that to do whatever he pleased.

And Kizaru had caught you redhanded only to worsen it exponentially.

That pain of true humiliation went through you again as you did force yourself to speak, even when Doflamingo hadn’t acknowledged your prior plea of his name.

You at least wanted some kind of update on the real status of your life before he’d just toss you on that bed again.

“Did anyone call from the marines yet this morning? Did the news coos come?” You knew it sounded like begging. Were you demoted? Discharged? Were you being called a traitor? How bad was it?

But he still didn’t look at you. And his voice sounded so odd when it did finally come.

“Your priorities need rearranging, little bird.”

His hand loosened slightly. But just enough for his fingers to move against that engagement ring you’d still never taken off.

You glanced down, feeling him briefly turning that band.

And then the two of you had passed the bed. You were standing before another large door as he pushed it open and pulled you through it.

You went quiet, confused and surprised again as Doflamingo drug you into his closet without any further explanation.

Of course the simple description of “closet” was not near good enough either. Because it was a whole room of its own. Much bigger than even the one that was still supposedly yours in the other bedroom.

And Doflamingo did finally let go of your hand as he walked to the back of this space.

He was looking for something while you stayed near the front, staring at the racks of clothing rather helplessly. His coats, suits, shirts, and more in just row after expensive row.

Some garments were embroidered, some had real gold adornments and other precious stones. Everything was here. All the way from the gaudiest, neon colored capris pants you’d ever seen, to floor length furs and ceremonial uniforms truly befitting a Dressrosan king.

Your head tilted back a little too, then looking up as the glimmer of a literal crown and scepter sitting on a shelf above you caught your eye. They looked carelessly set aside, as if they were as unremarkable as an old pair of shoes to him before you heard him speak again.

“Come here.”

He’d been digging in the back corner, pushing away more of his suits that you’d never seen him wear in order to get to something.

And you had to trek across this “closet” just to reach him.

But you stood there once you had, already uncomfortable before he shoved something large and black right in front of you.

Your body reacted as if it were some sort of animal carcass, you taking a reflexive step back when those feathers shook all at once from his movement.

Doflamingo was holding the coat at the level of his waist then, and only had to extend his arms to follow you with it as you tried to move away.

“No. Smell it. And then tell me if you still think I’m full of shit.” He sounded irritated again for a moment there, as if he didn’t want to be holding this either for any longer than he had to be.

Of course the reasoning of this harsh new order made no sense to you at all. You just wanted to tell him to fuck off actually when this new weirdness began.

Yet you still felt like the biggest freak too as you were forced to let those black feathers graze your face anyway when he pressed it even closer instead and you finally inhaled.

It wasn’t strong, but it was definitely there.

“Cigarette smoke.” You confirmed, but still looking at him as if he was being insane again.

As usual.

But Doflamingo scoffed at your expression, just before doing the same to strangely smell that coat as well when he briefly brought it up to his face.

“This raggedy thing is almost six years old.” He said, somewhat quieter then. And he lowered it again after. But was still clutching the coat in one hand, as he watched you intently once more.

His glasses were still perched in his hair. And you saw a different look in that moment, just the slightest warning before he swept that black coat around to hang it over your shoulders.

You tensed. And it was awkward and heavy, but no real difference to the pink ones he wore every day that you could tell.

But you said nothing in your obvious confusion. You only stood there, uncomfortably silent and waiting for the next touch, the next nonsensical action from him.

Yet Doflamingo was only staring at you for a few more moments, taking this all in like it meant something far different for him.

Your eyes flitted to his hand, cautious of everything again now as he’d moved it to once more touch your face.

“He’d really hate this.” Doflamingo muttered as he grazed his knuckles softly down your cheek. “He was always so adamant about me letting you go.”

Your head was still aching horribly, surely interfering with your own powers of reasoning. But your heart only began to beat faster as his hand then moved down onto your shoulder next.

He was neatening the feathers there. But some were missing. As if they’d been singed and burnt away actually, you finally realized.

“Marine code zero, one, seven, four, six…” Doflamingo added from nowhere as your breath did stop.

“That’s not my code.” Your mouth and brain shot off reflexively then. All of you were trained to give your marine identification number when captured. To say it over and over if you had to under potential torture, rather than giving anything sensitive away that could hurt your crewmates. “My code is-”

“I know.” Doflamingo’s face was tense. His eyes met yours again.

And that all new dread sank into your chest as he did.

“That was his code. My baby brother…my Corazon.”

Your eyes widened as the full adrenaline began.

In so many instances already there’d been these strange moments and the offhand comments about his blood family. All dead, all so seemingly triggering to him to ever speak of.

And you weren’t stupid. You were perceptive. But when every day and every night had you always still racing through the gauntlet of your own survival, it never allowed you the time to put any of these pieces together.

So he’d just thrown it right on top of you instead.

A dead man’s coat, now heavy in every meaning of the word as it hung across your already vulnerable frame.

“Rosinante…was a marine?” Your quiet voice both asked and confirmed at once. Because the silence was worse. And you didn’t dare look away from this pirate now.

“Yes.” Doflamingo answered directly that time. His long fingers still moving idly though, now nearer your breast, separating the individual feathers where this garment had evidently been crumpled against other things for years now.

He was actually preening you.

“This is just one of the coats he burned and left behind. I was always wasting money buying him new clothes. He could never take care of anything for long.”

Even with the almost neutral expression on Doflamingo’s face then, you still picked up on that real distaste in his tone. A true danger that made you try to force all of your energy away from your hangover and back to your very limited observation haki now.

You needed to focus.

This was no game anymore.

“I didn’t know.” You said in full honesty.

Doflamingo’s fingers paused too, his eyes moving back to your face with renewed skepticism that would have made a lesser soul cower.

“You really never met him?” He asked so plainly though.

“No.” You told the truth again.

The warlord scowled a bit.

“Well, I always talked to him about you.”

And you knew he saw that hint of surprise on your face again there that you couldn’t hide.

His eyes narrowed a little more in response to it. “You think I lie about everything, don’t you? I was telling the truth when I told the crowd I always wanted you. You had my attention years ago.”

That hand that had been neatening the feathers at your chest now moved all the way down to your hip as Doflamingo abruptly squatted onto his haunches in front of you.

His touch slipped so easily beneath the bottom of your shirt as he began to rub the skin of your waist.

“I told my brother that you’d be mine. But he was too weak to last long enough to see it.” Doflamingo’s grip tightened a little more, holding you firmly by your waistline now, skin to skin. “Do you understand what I’m telling you, (Y/N)? He hid from me. He lied to me. He hurt me.”

“He was undercover.” You said in something not far above a whisper then. Acknowledging the true scope of what was now being revealed to you.

And Doflamingo’s eyes finally looked bothered. He was watching that growing upset in your own.

“You were there that night too. With Tsuru…weren’t you?” Doflamingo asked you. And you felt the warmth of his body as he moved in even closer, still squatted down before you.

“Minion Island? Yes…I was there.” You responded as he leaned his head against you so unexpectedly.

He wanted you to touch him in return as he still held your waist.

And you did reach up, the black coat shifting as your hand moved softly around the back of Doflamingo’s neck.

It took everything in you to keep your hand from trembling.

“He left me no choice.” Doflamingo breathed just as your grip met his skin.

The primal chill that went through to your very bones was linked only to the way his eyes had changed again then. No trace of remorse as he said these words to you.

And Doflamingo simply shifted, wanting you to rub him further.

So you began stroking the back of his neck as you felt his face briefly nuzzle you. Partly against your own clothes, partly against those black feathers of his dead brother as he now chuckled.

A sickening sound.

“He took everything I had left. My heart…my trust.”

But it wasn’t sad or mournful. That tone felt like loathing even as Doflamingo’s hand moved again beneath your shirt, his large palm splaying low onto your abdomen.

“And I want it back.” He reaffirmed.

He thought he was the only victim here.

He thought he was owed whatever he wished to take because of the things he’d already lost.

You felt his fingernails beginning to press soon after. Like a claw digging into you with that renewed show of possession.

His teeth were bared again.

“I want it from you.” His voice was so low then, this demon of a man practically sitting on the floor now as he pushed your shirt further up.

“Give it back to me.”

You felt his lips against your stomach next, just before he whispered once more.

“Bear me my new Corazon.”

———————————

T⨂ BE

CONTINUED

———————————

Thanks for reading!

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yazthebookish · 4 hours

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Maybe I'll spoil you guys and talk about Gwynriel and ACOTAR5 and anything related to it overall. I recently finished my HOFAS reread and have some fresh thoughts. I'll let my thoughts guide me and some of these points I've already addressed in my insta stories yesterday. I just rather share a lengthy post here since I'll only tag under #gwynriel.

I often see arguments about how Gwyn and Azriel can't move the plot forward because the series is centered on the Archeron sisters.

First, that's not true because Sarah is following what she called "a traditional romance route". She's following the same patterns of Nalini Singh, Kresley Cole, and Lisa Kleypas where they publish multiple books in the same series following different couples.

This is fitting for a series like ACOTAR because it's romance-centered. And Sarah have already said that each couple is getting one book and there will likely be more books beyond ACOTAR6.

Saying that doesn't dismiss the importance of the sisters to the story, Feyre already has a trilogy centered on her. The spin-off just follows different characters including the sisters.

I won't try hard to convince people on this because I've already posted almost everything Sarah said about the spin-off series and what's it's about. So if the next book is not centered on an Archeron sister, that's for Sarah to bamboozle the fandom with.

One thing that stuck out to me is when I compared the ending of ACOSF with the scene of Bryce giving Nesta Gwydion and seeming like she left Nesta with a new quest.

First, this is what the text says, and this is Chapter 80, the very last chapter in ACOSF:

Succeeding in the Blood Rite didn't mean the training stopped. No, after she and her friends told Cassian and Azriel most of the details of their ordeal, the two commanders had compiled a long list of mistakes that the three of them had made that needed to be corrected, and the others wanted to learn from them, too. So they would keep training, until they were all well and truly Valkyries. Gwyn, despite the Rite, had returned to living in the library.

1. The Valkyries are not yet a unit.

2. SJM only and specifically highlighted that Gwyn, despite the Rite, returned to living in the library. It was like "hey, remember all the talk Gwyn did about wanting to leave the library after two years? Yeah that's on hold a bit but keep that in mind". She didnt even add Emerie or the other priestesses to that sentence.

With Nesta being left with Gwydion to find out why the 8-pointed star was tattooed on her, I don't think the next book will start with "hey Elain take this sword and deal with it". Who are Nesta's main companions now? Gwyn and Emerie.

I'll be back to the Valkyries but let's just talk about Azriel for a bit.

It is so painfully obvious to me that Azriel is being handed the Illyrian plot on a golden platter. How big or small of a plot it is depends on SJM, but it's important based on the fact that she fleshed out the Illyrian's origins and tied them to the crossover AND making Truth-teller the knife of Enalius.

That is a big deal for an Illyrian like Azriel.

And I quote my friend Lacie on this, it is very poetic for Azriel to be the owner of the knife that originally belonged to the person who freed his own people from the Daglan's clutches, perhaps because he saw his people are more than just slaves to the Daglan—how powerful would it be for Azriel, who loathes his own people, to parallel Enalius.

And for years some people were against Azriel dealing with this plot because he shouldn't make peace with his "abusers", its true his own family and some Illyrians failed him but he is condemning an entire population. Good people like Emerie and Balthazar. Even Rhys's mother, who had valid reasons to hate her people especially as a female, still made sure to make Rhysand connect with his Illyrian heritage and he even goes on to say that his mother didn't forget what they did to her but still loved her people.

If both Cassian and Rhysand (and by extension the author) continue to flag Azriel's hatred of the Illyrians as an issue—then it is a damn big issue for it to be addressed repeatedly.

Okay so to address my final point about Gwyn and Azriel and how they can move the plot forward.

Now I didn't detail out much about what the next book will deal with because that's another post (and I already have a post on that).

All of our theories and predictions are based on information that is available to us. Saying Azriel and Gwyn cannot move the plot forward does not make any sense because the central plot is tied to multiple characters, Archeron or not.

If SJM wants to make a character move the next book's plot forward, she can do it because she's in control of the story. She's in control of the narrative. She's in control of the characters.

The characters are puppets and this is an unfinished story. If some characters would add more value and make for a more interesting story before the others, she can decide on that. If she wants to make Eris the protagonist of the next book, she can easily do that whether the fandom wants it or not.

Let me give you an example of minor characters that pushed the plot forward and became main characters: Yrene Towers and the Hind. These kind of arguments could've been used for them in HOEAB or HOSAB and Pre-TOD. Before HOSAB/HOFAS and TOD, could we have predicted that they would have played a crucial role before those books? Not likely because they had minimal appearances and were not part of the main cast. This is what I'm talking about.

You can't know how a character will contribute to a story until you see how it all unfolds. We can make guesses on the information we have which is why I believe three characters are likely to join the main cast: Gwyn, Emerie, and Eris.

Why is it so easy to accept that Emerie might be sharing a book with an original character like Mor but it's hard to comprehend the fact that Gwyn could also share a book with Azriel? Because Emerie showed up in ACOFAS? To me that's not really a strong argument based on Sarah's writing and what we have in the books, she doesn't really pick based on who showed up the earliest. Here's a good example: Hypaxia, who showed up earlier, didn't even get her own chapters but the Hind did.

And there's one argument I recall about how I need to rely on Nesta to have a plot focused on Gwyn or the Valkyries in the next book. Nesta's arc is clearly not over based on HOFAS, but does that mean she's getting a POV? Not necessarily. I don't think she is. Gwyn is the perfect candidate for us to see what's going on with Nesta post-HOFAS and how they all deal with the Valkyries and whatever Sarah will set up with them.

There is this whole Valkyrie/Illyrian conflict that could be triggered as a result of the Blood Rite, with Ramiel definitely being an important location to explore in the next book, we also have the Pegasi and the Prison and the implications of the crossover. It makes sense to have an Illyrian and a Valkyrie POV to deal with some plots in the next book.

"Gwyn contributes to nothing" we can't know until the book is out. How sure are we that maybe SJM won't connect her to the crossover by making her mysterious father a Worldwalker? Or Prince of Hel? Or an Asteri? Maybe I'm right maybe I'm wrong.

"But Koschei! And the Human Queens!" Koschei will always be a background player pulling on the strings until the final book as it's obvious he is the big bad in the series, unless someone even worse is revealed. But no one is dismissing Koschei or the Human Queens messing around.

Literally what's the point of the story or the fun elements of surprises or plot twists if you need Sarah to list down everything that the next books will deal with. That's not how a story develops to me. I don't need to know everything in advance to just know how it will go. That's like knowing spoilers early on and checking off with each book what happened and what didn't happen. I feel like it's close to how a lot of readers were disappointed with not having enough ACOTAR in HOFAS, because Sarah implied half of the book would be set in Prythian. So by the time the book came out and it wasn't that, people were vocal about it.

In my opinion, SJM set a good foundation for Gwyn's arc to build up on in ACOSF and her arc is not over. We won't get mentions of her still carrying the guilt of her sister's death or not leaving the library after she said she's sick of being there for two years without us seeing resolution for that. She wouldn't be in Azriel's bonus chapter if she is not involved with him.

To conclude, my reread still affirms to me that the next book with an Azriel/Gwyn book. Azriel is clearly being set in the forefront.

#gwynriel #that's it for a while

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balkanradfem · 2 days

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Okay so I know I just hit you all with the controversial chestnut poll, but I have some new development in life that I want to complain about, and in order for me to complain about it, I need to give you the context.

I don't particularly want to give you the context. You're going to diagnose me with female socialization, and some of you will feel the urge to click the anonymous ask button and tell me off. Today I need you to fight that urge! I am feeling insecure, I am feeling lost, I'm not certain in my choices, I've acted without thinking, and got myself into a situation I can't control. So please don't be mean to me. I deserve to complain on the internet and not be called out, alright?

So this is the story of how I accidentally became a live-in caretaker for an injured, elderly woman. It's temporary! She'll get better, hopefully.

I worked for her occasionally, and she's always been kind to me. She would give me a little jar of jam sometimes, and I love little jars of jam, it's a way to win my heart. A few days ago, she called me in a panic, telling me she fell, and she needs my help. I came over, and found out she broke her arm in two places, and one of her rib is broken. She fell unconscious, after being dizzy all day, and fell on a big metal lantern, breaking it. She was now in so much pain she couldn't get up by herself, dress herself, or do any kind of household tasks. She went to the ER, got her arm wrapped up, and was trying to get a pain injection. I helped her get trough the day, and promised to come early next morning, to help her up from the bed.

Next day I found her in tears in her bed, unable to get up, desperate to go to the bathroom. It became clear she needed 24/7 assistance, and she asked me if I would move in until she got better. I said yes without thinking, because I was at this point, severely concerned, and wanted to do anything to help her out.

So this is all not so bad, right, I'm being normal, it's normal to offer help to an injured elderly woman who is nice, but there's a catch. She doesn't live alone. She lives with her older husband. Who is also disabled and can't help her at all. So in order to help her out.. I had to move into a place where a male lives. That is the worst part of this.

I'm still in the first few days of living like this, and my own life had to fall to the background. I can't go foraging for chestnuts every day, I can't go to my garden as much, I'm still going to work, just from her place. I'm overwhelmed and struggling to get used to the new situation. I'm not used to being around people at all, and now I'm forced to socialize almost all day. Caring for someone comes fairly natural! I'm already so in sync with her, she can just look in the certain direction and I know what she wants me to do. I've figured out where everything is in her kitchen, closet, and basement. She's pleased that I know how to do basic household tasks, and am willing to do it in her way. And she's nice, she's telling me things like 'thank you' and 'what would I do without you', which feels good. But I am very exhausted and sleep deprived, she wakes me up at 1am, and then 5am again, and I'm unable to fall back asleep in a room I lack familiarity with. I miss my room.

She and her husband said they were going to pay me, and in my natural ways, I said something like 'no you don't need to' which I feel like everyone will get mad at me for, but they did insist they would pay me anyway. I as usual lack the sense to care about money – someone's arm is broken, that's way more serious issue to me!

Alright so now to the part of the post I wanted to write, a fun poll where you guess, what has her awful husband done by this point :) go ahead and guess!

You have one day to guess! Which one of these scenarios happened in the first few days of his wife breaking three bones in her body. I'll tell you the correct option tomorrow!

#caring for and injured person #accidentally became live in nurse #i feel unqualified #and psychologically a bit shattered because my daily life changed so severely #i miss my lifeee #but this is not forever #it's going to be okay #i hope

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howtotrainabraincell · 2 days

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Greetings my fellow AC mutual!!!

Lately I have been reading all your canon posts here and may I say that I love them all. You have created amazing canons here. I'm feeling extra romantic so here's an idea: how would the Assassins, including Templars, feel on their wedding day? The before, during and after the wedding. You can choose all of them or a few of them.

Please and thank you 😊🙏 and have a wonderful day today.

Sure thing! This is a cute one!!

A/N: I may not have put it in each one, but they will respect their wife's wishes to not be intimate on their wedding night (whether it be fear or being exhausted from the festivities). But...I mean come on. Who wouldn't want to have a wedding night with any of them?

ALSO, there may be multiple parts to this bc there's A LOT I got going on in this mind of mine when it comes to this lot getting married...

Jacob Frye

Before:

You know this man will have his Rooks there lolll they'll be throwing the biggest loudest bash London has ever seen in honor of their Boss getting hitched. He just might make Greenie his best man (he teases the man to the ninth realm and back but they're good buddies for real).

Jacob takes this seriously. He's still his wonderfully goofy and chaotic self but he takes certain aspects of marriage more seriously. He wants her to know that he'll be good to her, he'll protect her with his life, and he'll love her even after he dies. He also takes setting up a home for her seriously. The man isn't for anything lavish and she isn't either (her cozy non-materialistic ways are something that majorly attracted Jacob to her - high key don't think he'd like somebody who was materialistic, as happiness is in life not things) but he wants to set up a nice little place for them to call 'home' together. A place where they can be together as husband and wife and hopefully have a handful of little rooks running around one day. A place that's theirs and theirs alone.

During:

He thinks she looks beautiful in her wedding dress (he bet she looks even better out of it tho...PFFT). He'll never admit to it, but his eyes began to sting at the sight of her - and of course he wasn't rubbing the tears from his eyes throughout the ceremony! He just had something in his eyes...

He's very genuine and sweet when he recites his wedding vows 'In sickness and in health, etc.' to you, both of you having decided to save the personal vows for each other privately. (Heads up Jacob cried when he read her letter of vows and promises to him, he couldn't believe how sweet it was. Man was legit sitting there thinking 'How'd I get such a wonderful wife?'). He genuinely cannot believe that he found a wife who loves and accepts him for him. Rest assured that any insecurities Jacob has before they marry will soon be gone because his wife loves him the way he's always deserved.

Once the marital vows are said and done, they move on to the exchange of rings...and that's when the tears start.

Jacob knows that she isn't materialistic and that she doesn't need a fancy ring to know that he loves her, but he thinks she deserves it, and he has just thing in mind. Something that compliments her eyes because they're one of his top favorite (and he has a lot lol) things about her. Something that reflects the joy in her eyes when she laughs, the smile crinkles she's developed from years of managing to laugh through her struggles, and the swirls of color. Jacob would definitely enlist the help of his big sister in finding a ring for his soon to be wife and does.she.come.through. When it comes time for the ring exchange, he's pleasantly surprised to find that she put just as much thought into his ring as he did hers.

Both are engraved with confessions of their love for one another and intricately designed to match the spouse they were made for.

After:

He would enjoy the celebration, and it would be planned and based off of how his wife feels about such celebrations. Jacob being a bit more extroverted is likely to enjoy socializing and having a big get together - and if his wife is the same way then great! But if she's more introverted and can only take so much he's whisking her away, so she doesn't get stressed out. I actually think that he would want to be alone with his new wife and not just for *wink wink* but he wants some alone time to just have a slow moment with her. He would enjoy the celebration his Rooks put together for them and she thinks it's so sweet that they went all out, but as we know Mr. Frye has a tendency to act rashly when he becomes impatient. Next thing you know, he's scooping his wife up without a care in the world and carrying her off with a grin five miles wide, her face the exact replica of a tomato as she clings to him, and the Rooks cheering them goodbye as Jacob carries her off.

If she's afraid of the wedding night activities this man is instantly comforting her assuring her that he doesn't expect anything, he would never hurt her, and he'll wait for her. If she's tired? He is too honestly (he does have a lot of energy, but I imagine when he's alone he just OOF crashes but doesn't want anyone to see it. I mean he does have a full-time job annoying Evie ofc lol what else are baby brothers for?) so cuddling and going to sleep together is just fine with him. But if she wants him - tired or not - he'll give her everything he's got and then some.

Do I need to go into Jacob's wedding night? I mean... it's Jacob. The man lives to serve and please. And please he does...

Bayek of Siwa (I included him bc he legit started it all technically a Hidden One but potato pitatoh)

Before: This man is joyful on his wedding day. He's so excited to marry her and spend their days together. Whether this is after his divorce from Aya or we're not going with cannon and it's his first marriage - this man wants to be a husband, he is husband material. He can't wait to pledge himself to her before the gods and dedicate his life to loving her. He can't wait for her to be his wife HOWEVER - If we're going with cannon he was rejected when he proposed to Aya, so he has some understandable hesitancy when he proposes to his love. Can you blame him? He really loved the one he proposed to the first time and got shot down poor guy. It's the second time he's proposed in this life, and he does not make the mistake of thinking that just because they're in love that she'll say yes. He made that mistake before, and it felt like a knife to the gut.

BUT - If we're going with head cannon... this time he found himself a woman who was ecstatic to be proposed to by him (and I mean literally ecstatic like she tackled him in happiness making him laugh his ass off before she showered him in kisses and said yes).

If sticking to cannon he is worried and afraid deep down to remarry. He loves her very much so much in fact he believes that he very well loves her even more than he loved Aya (which like WOW ya know what I'm saying?). But when he's around her all fears and worries are eased and he comes to his senses knowing that he would forever regret not spending the rest of his life with her, now that he's met her and has her in his life.

Headcannon wise he's still a bit scared as being a Medjay is stressful and a known profession in which one is likely to gain enemies (insert middle finger to members of the order of ancients). He worries about her being targeted but he knows that she can take care of herself (she'll make one hell of a Medjay's wife that's for sure LOL). He also fears that it would be selfish to marry her and put her in danger - but upon sharing this fear with her she quickly dismantled his fear. Whether they marry or do not marry, either way - she could possibly be targeted by his enemies, to this he agreed. Then she asserted that it would be better that they face their adversaries together with their love motivating them to eliminate all threats, than to face those who oppose them separately. To this he simply smiled and hugged her tightly melting into her embrace.

During: They didn't really have weddings in Ancient Egypt more so the signing of a binding marriage document, the woman moving into the man's home to live with him as his wife, and then it could/would be followed by a celebration. However...that is Egypt as a whole...not Siwa. Those of us who have seen this beautiful spot in Egypt where beloved Bayek is from, know that it's beautiful and lively (quite frankly a great place to start a family) and you just know that Bayek is from a community that loves him. They're going to throw him and his intended a celebration to end all celebrations.

Hepzefa ISN'T dead I.DON'T.CARE - he's absolutely Bayek's best man.

Bayek in his armor and her in a linen dress covered by a layer of sheer fabric with a lily in her hair, as they get married in the evening when it cools off, the sand unable to burn their feet and the sun unable to glare in their eyes so they can actually look at each other lol. Any fear he had is gone when he sees her at the end of the aisle. They meet each other at the end of the aisle and join arms to walk together toward Hepzefa (who OFC is marrying them obvs). They make their vows before the gods to love, cherish, respect, support and be honest with each other for as long they both live.

After:

Again, if we're sticking to cannon, I think that Bayek would move in with his new wife instead of her moving in with him. A new home and a fresh start with his new wife, is just what this man could use after his arduous journey.

Headcannon however they would move into their own place in Siwa together and work together to make their home everything they dreamed it could be. I HIGHLY believe that he would find a way to make a pond for her filled with water lilies (his nickname for her btw - she's his "beautiful lily").

After a night of dancing, laughter, feasting and sheer happiness they would go home together. They would end the night by sitting on the roof of their new home together watching the Oasis of Siwa from afar, bundled up tightly together in a blanket against the chill air of the Egyptian night. He would point out the different spots of Siwa from they sat, but mostly they would admire the beauty of the moon on the oasis not too far away. They might even go for a swim in the cool waters together, laughing and splashing each other. Tell.me.he doesn't sneak attack her from underwater lloollll. They'd spin around in the water easily with Bayek holding her against him and smiling as she gushes about how much she's enjoyed the day.

I don't think Bayek would make love to her on the banks of the oasis for their first time the man has romantic plans that he plans to woo her with lol. (Later on, in their marriage though...woo!) Rest assured that their first time will be sweet and romantic, he'll make her as comfortable as possible, with pillows everywhere and candlelight guiding their hands within the walls of their home.

Also like the idea of them traveling to Alexandria together and having their honeymoon there. Them exploring the Alexandrian Lighthouse together, the library (shortly before it BURNED DOWN DAMN YOU CAESER), horseback riding through the sand dunes and around the lush greenery near the Nile, going to the markets together and giggling about whatever it is that they find funny, sailing on the Nile together and fishing/gathering reeds for various projects, THEY WOULD CLIMB THE PYRAMIDS TOGETHER CHANGE.MY.MIND.

Evie Frye

Before: Their wedding isn't one that can be celebrated openly but they still have a celebration that is the epitome of love. The two women had both agreed to write their vows for one another and exchange them after the wedding, wanting to keep their promises to each other and words of love just between them.

They couldn't decide on names lol. Evie wanted her last name, and she wanted Evie's last name. But they quickly came up with a solution as they both have brothers. They decided to hyphenate their last names for some extra cover. Evie becomes Mrs. Frye-(L/N) and she becomes Mrs. (L/N)-Frye. That way no one would suspect them being married and if anyone ever asks, Evie married one of her (wife's) brothers and is her "sister-in-law" the same way Jacob is a stand in husband for Evie's wife and she is Evie's "sister-in-law". History will say that they were sisters in law hahaha.

But for real though tell me why they end up calling each other "Mrs" SO MUCH in private (Evie almost forgets that she's a Dame bc she gets called Missus *insert her last name* so much by her wife haha).

During:

Not able to shout their love from the rooftops unfortunately, the couple settles to have a very small and private ceremony. Jacob - who would NEVER breathe a word, Henry who's just happy to see them happy, Ned would probably be there and while Abberline would be SHOOK (I don't care if that word died out like 8 years ago lol it's funny) he would be pleased to know that they've found happiness together.

Tell me why I'm so damn sure that Jacob marries them (he would do that for his sister jokes, loving eye rolls from his big sister and all). They would either get married on the train not too far from the Red Lion where they would go afterward to celebrate, or in Henry's shop (his wedding gift would be lots of various flowers ranging from "everlasting love" to "trust and loyalty").

OR I do have a head cannon that they don't have any witnesses at all. They go up to rooftop facing the Thames and wait for sunrise together with their rings and a basket of goodies they both enjoy. When the sun begins to rise, they make their vows to each other tearfully and very sincerely, pledging the rest of their lives to each other and promising to always be together and love one another. They do this so that they can start the new day together as wives and say what they truly want to one another without an audience. It'll even become tradition years later that they both stay up until sunrise to celebrate their anniversary as the years go on, just the two of them

After:

They do their own wedding presents, and the new Mrs. Frye can't help but giggle at Evie's reaction when she gives her the special edition of her favorite book. I think we can all imagine how ecstatic the loveable bookworm that is Dame Evie Frye would be.

When Evie reads the vows, her new wife has written for her she boo hoos too lol. She can't believe that she's lucky enough to have married such a sweet and wonderful woman. Especially when she thought she would never marry and dedicate her entire life to the Creed.

Something fun the two women embark on together is setting up their home together. Not having been able to have had an open wedding they didn't have wedding showers or receive the traditional wedding gifts; they pick out each piece of their new home together! With how in sync, they are together there is hardly anything they disagree on (unless its Evie's wife trying to get her to stop working herself almost to death...by smooching her to the point where Evie looks like a laughing tomato haha) and their home comes together wonderfully. Everything in their home cozy and a reminder of their love.

It takes Evie a little bit before she finally lets go of the fear that getting married to her love, was nothing more than a wonderful dream. But each morning when she wakes up and either sees her wife next to her sleeping safe and sound, or she wakes to beautiful flowers followed by Mrs. Frye trailing in quietly with a cup of morning tea for her still sleepy wife. Her wife can rest assured that Dame Evie Frye will love her for the rest of their lives.

Altair Ibn La' Ahad

Before: He never thought he would marry or fall in love the way he's fallen in love with her. He's a naturally a confident man, so there's no doubt in his mind that he wants to be her husband and spend the rest of his life with her. There's no doubt...but there is worry. He worries about being a good husband to her in terms of giving her a safe stable home due to being an assassin and he knows that he can be...emotionally stunted, but he plans to correct that and never leave her wondering if he loves her. Because he does with his whole being. After all, if she can help pull him out of his younger arrogant ways, by gently and patiently telling him why he's wrong without criticizing him, then she can do anything.

During: His worries are vanquished when he sees her. He immediately knows that come what may, they'll be alright so long as they're together. He can't stop looking at her during the wedding, making her blush as he smiles at her (surprising the hell out of Malik lol bc the 'tHe nOvICe cAn SmILe?') As they take their vows a few cheeky looks are given here and there the pair obviously checking each other out, (insert Malik gagging like a goof). Altair can't get over how she looks like an otherworldly being with her beauty unmatched by anyone or anything. She can't get over how handsome and gallant he looks in his robes, with his hood down (GASP), his sword at his side as his thumbs rub the backs of her hands. (But with the hood thing he's never had anything to hide, he just wants to show his face and let everyone know that he's marrying her and that he's proud to be her husband. He's a very proud husband haha). When they seal their new union with a kiss, he bends down to pick her up and hold her tightly making her laugh. They both can't stop smiling, completely and utterly happy and excited to start the rest of their life together.

After: He would bring her jasmine and a few Damasks roses - they're nowhere near as beautiful as he thinks she is but the sweetness of each flower reminds him of her - in a neatly gathered bushel and loves the smile it brings to her face. He doesn't care about having a wedding night, he just wants to be with his wife and love on her in whatever manner she wishes. Sitting there and watching the stars over Masyaf or Jerusalem (depending on when/where they get married) If she wants to lay there with him and relax, he's happy to hold her and do just that. But if she wants him to take her...her mind will be blown at just how loving her new husband can be...

Ratonhnhake:ton/Connor Kenway

Before: He's worried about being a good husband. Very worried. He wants to be a wonderful husband to her, as wonderful as she is to him. He loves her with everything he has of course and would defend her with his life. But he was so focused on his mission to take the Templar order down, to get justice for his mother, so focused on his rage...that despite how much he loves her, he wonders if he can pull himself out of the dark mindset that he was in for so long to treat her the way she deserves. He will try but he still worries. He doesn't want to be angry (never at her keep in mind - about life in general) his entire life. Her kisses and presence helps though, more than she'll ever understand. He wants to be there for her as much as she's been there for him, through thick and thin, no matter what.

During: Feel like there would be two weddings for the couple. A colonial one (planned by the Homestead for the happy couple) and a traditional Mohawk wedding (planned by the Clan mother who is so excited to see him getting married), a wedding to honor both his and her culture. He stands like a statue clasping his hands in front of him patiently, eager, and nervously until he sees her. Cheesy as it is... the sight of her brings him peace. He can't even wait for her to make it to the altar, making his way to her down the aisle in a few long strides to meet her with a smile. They walk down the aisle together arm in arm and hands intertwined, unable to contain their excitement.

After: He can't stop staring at his wedding ring and smiling at it. Typically, the Mohawk people did not exchange wedding rings until modern times, but he loves his and what it represents. The eternal love and union he and his wife will share. His face hurts from smiling so much, but he doesn't mind it a bit. Now as for the wedding night... I think he would be very shy at first. Terrified of hurting her because he's very aware of the fact that he's massive and intimidates a lot of people. He would never do that to her. Being with her is honestly really enough for him, the emotional intimacy the two share is what made him so sure about making her his wife. The newlyweds would work their way up into sex slowly, getting a little closer each time and accompanied by lots of reassurance and soft laughter. And when they finally got it, the assassin and his wife had never felt more complete in their lives. He makes love in plenty of other ways though - mostly through his thoughtfulness and observation which leads to anticipation. He always knows what she needs before she even asks and he's always happy to help.

Their mornings start off with him usually waking first and realizing that marrying her wasn't a dream. He'll watch her sleeping peacefully in his arms, and then inspect their fingers where their wedding bands lie and realize that it's real. They got married. He's married to this wonderful woman. She's, his wife. Before he can begin to spiral in excitement he leans down and scoops her closer to him, burying his face in her neck which makes her laugh softly.

Venturing outside together to enjoy nature and do various outdoor activities, playful banter and pairing up to hunt together and scavenge. He'll look over and see her helping him with a fresh kill or scavenging other items and become overwhelmed with the desire to kiss her out of nowhere. Needless to say, lots of love and laughter fills the lives of Ratonhnhake:ton and his wife.

Henry Green/Jayadeep Mir

Before: He's happy and so ready to be her husband. He's admitted to himself that he's liked her from their first meeting, but he's loved her almost as long (which is not long at all because he fell for her quick). I don't know why but I can imagine that Jacob might try to do the whole "you know how the wedding night works right?" talk with him much to Henry's horror haha. He gently assures the younger Frye that he does in fact know what to do on his wedding night with his wife, if she'll have him. Don't worry though! The man is from India the birthplace of Kama Sutra...he knows what to do. Trust him.

During: Whether she wears the usual white dress or chooses to honor his culture by wearing traditional Indian bridal clothes, this man will be emotional. Guaranteed his eyes will begin to water when he sees how beautiful the woman he loves is, walking down the aisle to him. When they take each other's hands, he can't help the goosebumps of excitement he gets thinking about how lucky he feels to be marrying such a woman. He'll never understand how he got her to agree to marry him (despite being charming have a head cannon that his charm goes out the window when it comes to proposing to her lol he was so nervous that she would say no!) but he'll never forsake her or take her for granted. Perish the thought!

After: Get ready for a very fun honeymoon! Traveling together and studying each place you go, learning fun facts and the history behind the cultures. I think he would be so excited to show her around where he grew up and tell her stories (the happier ones) from his childhood. I also think that Mr. Green would be eager to prove that his intelligence is more than just the book variety...

Shay Patrick Cormac

Before: He's excited. But also, nervous. So nervous. He's aware that the type of life he leads isn't the safest or the most routine/regular thing a man can do. But you can bet that he'll be damned if he doesn't give his all to be a good husband to her. A worry that runs through his mind is dying at sea on the Morrigan and leaving her widowed and alone. He noticeably goes on less voyages after they marry only going when it's necessary. Depending on when they get married, he may still be traveling around on Templar/Shay way business - but either way whether he's close to retirement or still working, he wants to settle down with her. He plans to create a nice home for her, take care of her, love her, and have a handful of beautiful babies that he'll love almost as much as he loves her.

During: The moment he lifts her veil from her face he can't take his eyes off of her. Literally. The only time he does is to briefly and gently slide the ring onto her finger, otherwise he's smiling and staring at her like a lovesick puppy lol. He's so busy admiring his bride that Haytham with a smirk on his face gently clears his throat reminding Shay that the time to seal his new union has come. When the Irish captain realizes what the Grandmaster is saying the man blushes in slight embarrassment, and you bet he turns right around and kisses his new wife. The pair laughs as those invited applaud in celebration, but they're in their own world together.

After: After the wedding he'll take her to his home (read: their home that he hopes she loves) in New York so they can be alone together, in more ways than one. Their home will definitely know what love is when they're there together. He's a go go go kind of man as we've all seen but he's slow and gentle with her and if she finds herself too tired to celebrate in a more intimate way, she better get ready for the best cuddle session of her life. However, if she does find herself in need of her husband...let's just say that he's Captain of more than the Morrigan... Tell me why the idea of him untying his wife's corset is very erotic... Once they start married life together this man is taking her on the Morrigan (if she wants to go that is if not, he has plenty of other fun things in mind...) and sailing her to wherever she wants to go. I imagine she would choose Ireland to learn about where her husband's family came from, and Shay would love showing her around his place of origin.

Haytham Kenway

Before: He's composed in public ever the austere Grandmaster.... but a mess in private. He can't stop fidgeting with his cravat, pulling at his sleeves, straightening his coat. He looks absolutely handsome, but he knows that he won't hold a candle to his angel of a wife - who he DEFINITELY peeked at lol. You telling me this man didn't try to go to talk to her before the wedding because he missed her, and he doesn't stop short by the crack in the door, dumbfounded by how beautiful she looks? His face will be redder than his vest. With how in love with her he is, he feels less the confident Templar, and more so a little boy in very deep love. He's so happy that he gets to marry his love and spend his life with her, just the sight of her alone helps him to calm down and realize: he's marrying the love of his life.

During:

When he sees her coming down the aisle to him, he forgets how to breathe for a moment. The majority of the ceremony is spent exchanging loving gazes, gentle hand squeezes and him trying not to pass out. She notices how flustered he seems and reaches up to gently cup his face for no one's benefit but his. Needless to say, it helps to calm him significantly.

He can't believe how beautiful she is and how he got her to agree to marry him. Haytham doesn't say it in his vows, but he'll give her the world and more and always take care of her. With this man I have a feeling that actions speak louder than words (I mean did you see how he got rizzed by Ziio LOL everyone thought HE would woo HER, but she BAMBOOZLED him). He may not speak what he's feeling, and she may have to play fill in the blanks sometimes when he becomes overwhelmed by his emotions (cue him being very grateful for her patience), but with her complete agreement he's more than happy to show her in a deep kiss or something a bit more husbandly...

When they're pronounced husband and wife he steps forward while the officiant is still speaking and kisses her with abandon. The Grandmaster is thrown out the window for the moment and the lovestruck man comes out much to his new wife's delight. He embraces her tightly never wanting to let her go and his arms sweep her up in quick spin that makes her squeak in laughter as his own grin spreads across his face.

He would spoil.her.rotten come the wedding and wedding presents.

After:

The celebration would be a grand one and last long into the night. Shay swears upon the Morrigan that he'll knock Hickey's lights out if he gets pissed and starts to cause a ruckus LOOOLL. Haytham is a good dancer, but he doesn't like to make a spectacle of himself, for his new bride however he'll get out there and dance with her feeling absolute contentment in knowing that of all the men in the room that could have her in their arms he has her instead. He enjoys watching her have fun, and every time she finds him in the room and smiles at him while she's dancing, the man swears to the gods that his heart starts to race. You can definitely bet that his face stays a decent shade of red for the majority of the ceremony and party.

The party doesn't end when she comes to him and asks if he's ready to retire for the night, taking his hand when he agrees and pulling him toward the stairs. This man's face is ON FIRE as they go up the stairs together because everyone knows what they're going up there to do and that damn Irish Captain won't stop smirking at him -

He'll help her undress not solely for the purpose of making love to her, but because he wants to help her get comfortable (her beautiful form in front of him in nothing but a chemise is definitely motivation too...). Making her comfortable is his number one priority whether they make love that night or not. Making sure the curtains are drawn so the sunlight won't bother her in the morning, the fire is lit to keep her warm (I head cannon them getting married in winter for some reason... I mean they can keep each other warm during the colder months), making sure she has water on her bedside chamber.

They lay together after the long night holding each other comfortably softly speaking about how wonderful everything was. They may discuss the Order if she's curious about it and she'll make goo goo eyes at him as he speaks so passionately about it, with him blushing as she looks at him so lovingly. They may discuss books they've been reading together (tell me Haytham wouldn't have a private little book club for just him and his wife I DARE YOU). Things between them may become charged when they hold each other's gaze for too long... and then he'll really make her Mrs. Kenway...

NOTE: I KNOW I DIDN'T DO SEVERAL CHARACTERS IN THIS POST I'M SORRY OKAY. Seriously though some characters came easier than others - but there will in fact be a part 2.

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fictionalcharactersaremypassion · 3 days

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And here we are in Heaven (For you are mine at last)

Ian Gallagher was a sneaky motherfucker.

He was well aware that Mickey didn’t do baths. They did it once, he didn’t even last the whole time, getting out mid-way which pissed Ian off somewhat but boo fucking hoo.

For a while, he didn’t ask anymore and left Mickey in peace. Till tonight, that is.

He was blissfully sprawled out on the bed after some fucking mind blowing sex. Face flushed, skin slick with sweat, hair in disarray. Mickey’s eyelids fluttered, sleep fast approaching.

Then came a soft whisper in his ear. Ian had gone to the bathroom and now he was back, brushing away some of Mickey’s sweaty hair to kiss his forehead.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Mickey said sleepily, his eyes not yet opening back up. “You good now?”

“Actually, I was gonna take a bath.” Ian was much more awake than he was, so he’d rather freshen himself up which didn’t exactly bode well with Mickey’s post-sex mood.

“No,” he groaned. “C’mere.”

When he was properly fucked out of his mind, Mickey could admit- well, not actually admit because it was no one’s fucking business but his own- that he wanted his ginger giant of a husband to fucking cuddle him in bed.

Ian chuckled. Fucking bastard. “Mick, I already got the water running.”

“You don’t know how to turn it off?”

That came out a lot less coherent than he meant for it to be. A lot more mumbled, his lips barely moving to pronunciate but Ian was well versed in deciphering Mickey-speak, as he called it, after all these years together.

“I won’t be long,” Ian’s thumb caressed his cheek and damn it , Mickey leaned into his touch. He wanted his husband with him now . He didn’t want to be kept waiting.

“Gallagher.”

Mickey didn’t whine intentionally. It just came out.

“I’ll be back, baby.” Mickey couldn’t see the expression Ian wore- fond, soft, lookin’ at him like he was fucking precious or some shit. “Unless you wanna join me?”

He’d much rather not move, let alone to the bath where he’d have to squeeze into that tiny ass tub and then freeze his ass off afterwards.

Fuck Ian and fuck those stupid ass baths.

And fuck all this needy shit too. Him needing to fuckin’ cuddle ....

“Fine,” Mickey mumbled, his desire to be close with his husband overriding the dislike he held for those shitty baths. “Help me up.”

Ian had those fuckin’ heart eyes staring at him. A soft of course, Mick slipped past his lips, strong arms lifting his body up, one hand automatically going to his back for support.

He was guided to the bathroom, legs too loose and unsteady for him to do it on his own. Mickey unceremoniously leaned into Ian’s side, whose arm moved up to wrap around his shoulders now.

The tub was nearly full now, mirror fogged up with steam, the room warmer than their bedroom.

Ian shut the door, tugging off the pair of boxers he’d thrown on, tossing them to the side. Mickey was already naked, shivering. “Let me get in first,” his husband carefully stepped in, lowering himself and stretching his legs out as far as he could, which wasn’t much in hindsight. “Come here.”

Mickey stifled a yawn whilst he climbed in, the foamy bubbles smelling like some fruity shit Ian bought a while back. He dropped his head back against his husband, eyes shutting again.

Water was nice and hot, soothing his slightly aching muscles. Ian’s arm was over the front of him, and the drowsiness returned tenfold.

“Feels good, huh?” Ian murmured in his ear.

“S’alright.” If Mickey let out a quiet sigh of contentment, that was his fucking business.

“Can I wash your hair while you’re here?”

Instead of there being a snide remark on the tip of his tongue, ready to remind his husband that just because they were married didn’t mean they had to do all that gay shit, Mickey made a low noise of agreement.

“Okay, lean forward a bit,” Ian said, tracing along his shoulder blade.

Mickey did, albeit a little rougher than he should have, the water sloshing around, droplets flinging their way up higher, closer to his neck.

Carefully, Ian scooped up some water to douse his head with to dampen his hair. The excess ran down his back.

Then, the lid on the shampoo bottle opened with a crack . Ian poured some onto his palm, rubbing his hands together then lathering Mickey’s with it. His fingers moved across his scalp, lightly massaging it.

Mickey, through his haze of exhaustion, practically melted from pleasure.

It felt so damn good. Ian worked precisely, slowly so as to savor the moment.

And he didn’t see it, couldn’t from where he sat, but Ian was able to gather that he was relishing in the domesticity of it all, a smile of pure adoration on his lips.

He lost track of time, the minutes slipping away whilst they sat there in the tub, the water losing its heat as time went on, basking in this moment and all the moments that would follow from this point on.

#shameless #gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #ian and mickey #ian x mickey #shameless fanfiction

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kafus · 3 days

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hi guys meet scramble. the salamence i have been preparing for NEARLY AN ENTIRE FUCKING MONTH!!!! AAAAA

so okay. i am trying to build a 6 pokemon team to take on orre colosseum in pokemon xd gale of darkness. for the uninitiated, it's basically like gen 3 VGC, but against NPCs with predetermined and handcrafted teams made by the developers. you can honestly kind of think of it like the trainer battles in the indigo disk DLC, but if pretty much all the fights had a full team and some competitive merit. and of course gen 3 doubles mechanics (which have some WILD fundamental differences from modern VGC, but i digress as that's not really the point of this post)

despite getting perfect stat pokemon being extremely difficult and time consuming in gen 3, and basically impossible outside of emerald if you want the right natures on your pokemon, the NPC opponents in orre colosseum have pokemon with perfect IVs and such, so to not suffer you really have to have some Good Pokemon. now usually this wouldn't be a problem for me because i know how to RNG manipulate wild encounters and eggs in gen 3... but there's a catch.

see i've been trying to play this copy of emerald, my new main file as of last year, MOSTLY fully legitimately and as intended by the developers, AKA no RNG manipulation and very little use of glitches. don't get me wrong, there are exceptions to this, i make my own rules and i'm just here to have fun, not to prove myself like it's some sort of challenge run for the internet to judge me on. but as for battle tower pokemon and whatnot, i haven't used RNG manipulation at all, and i intend to keep it that way. i've used RNG manipulation for that stuff in the past and frankly i'm just bored of it.

this is the team i built for orre colosseum. it's first time ever building my own team for gen 3 doubles, so i suppose we'll see how it goes, but yeah. a writeup on it after i beat orre colosseum in the future perhaps. for the sake of this post, the important pokemon is that salamence.

this thing was a fucking NIGHTMARE to get without RNG manipulation. as you may or may not know, hidden power is a move that can be any type and of any base power between 30 and 70, depending on the IVs of the pokemon that knows the move. this is an extremely unforgiving calculation and it's also pretty complex so i'm not going to get into the exact math here. but what you need to know about breeding this salamence is:

bagon is 40 egg cycles. most standard pokemon are 20. they take double the time to hatch compared to other pokemon. collecting and hatching these eggs was excessively slow, even with flame body

dragon dance is an egg move and egg moves can only be passed down by male parents in gen 3, so that is something i have to juggle

the adamant nature has only a 50/50 chance of passing with the everstone hold item as opposed to the 100% chance in modern gens. additionally, it only works when the female parent is holding it (or a ditto, but that's irrelevant here)

there is no way to guarantee the passing down of specific IVs, and there also is no destiny knot to guarantee that 5 total IVs are passed down from the parents. you're stuck with getting a random 2-3 IVs from the parents in completely random fashion

this means that i have to hatch dozens of eggs to even get a pokemon with 3 perfect IVs, even off of two parents that have the 3 perfect IVs, and the process of getting those parents in the first place is a very slow and incremental and random process... WHILE juggling nature and egg moves

the cherry on top is that to realistically have the chance to get hidden power flying, i have to have two parents with a 30 IV in special attack/special defense and a 30 or a 31 in speed. so i can't just get a perfect bagon and call it a day, i have to cross two perfect bagons with all of the above parameters to roll for those parameters to pass down again, and also roll HP flying.

NOW. i made this WAY more torturous on myself. because the easiest way to get HP flying is by pairing two x/x/x/30/30/30 parents together. but knowing that orre colosseum pokemon can have perfect stats, and because of the relative lack of speed control options in gen 3 doubles (no tailwind, no trick room, etc), every point of speed matters. i wanted that perfect speed of 31. the issue? when rolling for x/x/x/30/30/31 pokemon instead, the only way that the type of the hidden power is flying is if all the three other IVs are even numbers. so alltogether, i need the following to happen on any bagon egg, assuming that i've already put together the two x/x/x/30/30/31 parents with a male dragon dance bagon and an adamant female bagon holding an everstone:

all three IVs to pass down from the parents (the way emerald determines which IVs pass down is weird but it's roughly a 1/16 chance for the offspring to be 30/30/31)

the nature to pass down with the everstone (1/2)

all three other IVs to randomly roll even (1/8)

so the odds? 1/256. and that's not even a guarantee that the final resulting bagon has GOOD IVs in its other stats, just EVEN numbers. or 0. they could all be 0!!!!

and the first bagon i got after probably around 200 eggs (i wasn't counting at that point)? a middling 16 in attack, and a fucking ZERO in HP. zero!!!! i was so sick of bagons at this point that i considered keeping it and stopping there on that fateful day of september 1st. BUT I WAS NOT SMART. AND I DIDN'T. i decided i would keep hatching bagon until i got one more HP flying one with the IVs and nature passed down, and THEN i would stop no matter what, just keeping whichever bagon of the two was better.

i actually started fucking losing it. i had to recount the amount of bagon i ended up hatching. i was doing it full boxes at a time, and later on i even added a second save file/GBA SP just to make it go faster. you know how many bagon i hatched?? 840!! for a 1/256 chance!!! dealing with the 40 egg cycles and everything!!!

my friends watched me slowly devolve into insanity as i routinely announced in our game liveposting channel that i was HATCHING MORE BAGON. and FINALLY after nearly a full month of on and off bagon hatching. I GOT ONE TODAY. AND GUESS WHAT ITS ATTACK IV WAS.

IT.

WAS.

2!!!

anyway i'm not even actually mad because i'm just so happy this is over. i was getting so fucking sick of it. i love long pokemon grinds but this was a lot even for me. it doesn't feel even remotely good like full odds hunting and this is the longest and most miserable egg grind i've ever done in these games and will hopefully ever have to do. and yet despite knowing that i couldn't stop myself because of sunken cost fallacy. and being stubborn. so i am glad to be RELEASED from BAGON PURGATORY

i am settling for the 0 HP IV 16 attack iv bagon and i will love her. she is named scramble as a reference to the sheer amount of eggs i hatched on this journey and also the scrambled RNG. and despite it all i am very proud of myself and excited to use her in orre colosseum regardless of everything. but i can't for a while because i have three more pokemon to breed... none of which should even be NEARLY this painful. hopefully. FINGERS FUCKING CROSSED!!

#long post #sorry this assumes Some knowledge of how pokemon works #like i explain some stuff but it assumes you have Foundations #kiki was here #kiki plays games #kiki.txt #emerald #pokemon emerald #salamence #pokemon rse #rse

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scorpieuns · 2 hours

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I’M YOURS | JAKE SIM

pairing: ex!jake x afab!reader, friend! sunghoon x afab!reader

summary: despite your best friend and sunghoon’s attempts to get to you move on from your ex-boyfriend, you just simply cannot get over jake—and he can’t either.

word count: 6.1k

genre: friends to undefined. exes to ambiguous. college setting.

warnings (18+): smut (absolute filth.) fluff (if you use a microscope lmfao). alcohol. mentions of breakups. (slightly) possesive jake. kissing. grinding. nipple play (f. recieving). fingering (f. recieving.). unprotected sex. slightly rough sex. doggie. slight hair pulling. multiple orgasms. both reader and Jake are stubborn as hell. (let me know if there’s anything missing!)

A/N: inspired by the request posts from @rivaillescum and @teddursa — I got wayyy to carried away lol but first long fic post!

“What about him?” Aeri yells over the music, your eyes following her pointed finger towards a man leaning against the wall with his eyes glued to the phone in his hand.

“Park Wonbin from art history?” You turn to the girl with an eyebrow raised, “Park Wonbin, who’s had a girlfriend since last fall?”

Aeri's shoulders sink, “I should’ve known someone who looked like that wasn’t single.” You laugh at her bummed out expression, sipping the drink in your hands as you subtly dance to the music playing.

“Now him?” She nods towards the direction of another man, expressively dancing in the large crowd, “I cannot have a one night stand with a wannabe tiktoker Ae.”

“Why are you so difficult?” She groans, resting her head against the wall.

“Just give up already.”

“I can’t,” she whines, “I brought you out tonight so you could have fun, and get over Jake.”

You almost choke on your drink, “What? It's been like…two weeks since we broke up.”

“Exactly.” She retorts. “That’s why I shouldn't catch you staring at his contact all the damn time.” Your mouth falls open, “That was just one time!”

Aeri raises her eyebrows and you fall silent, already foreseeing your defeat in this little argument.

“Look,” Aeri says, her voice softening, “what matters is that this time you’re really done with him.” Her words were gentle, but the weight of them hit you harder than you expected. Aeri meant well, but the truth was embarrassing.

It had been two weeks since you broke up with Jake—for the third time in four months. Yes, third.

And no, you didn’t know why you kept going back either. Maybe dating a frat boy who happened to be a soccer star wasn’t your brightest idea. Looking back, it seemed like you'd signed up for trouble with a side of emotional whiplash and good sex.

At first, Jake had been amazing.

Sophomore year started like a rom-com: he treated you like royalty, planned cute dates, stayed up all night with you in the library (even though he wasn’t the one with exams), and Jake just couldn’t get enough of you. The first six months were straight out of your dreams.

Your friends were gagging at how cute you were, even painting your face with his team colours to cheer him on with your friends from the bleachers like the supportive girlfriend you were—waiting for him to sweep you off your feet with a kiss whenever he won a game.

Then, everything changed after the final soccer game for the College Cup. Jake’s hero moment brought home the trophy, and suddenly, soccer was his whole life. You were still proud of him, of course, but things quickly started to feel…off.

Calls became shorter, dates were postponed, and before you knew it, you were practically his motivational speaker, squeezed in between practice sessions and interviews.

By the end, it felt like you were on his schedule, like a convenience more than a priority. He only called when he needed something—and that was obviously whenever he was horny and wanted to fuck what ever stress he had out of him.

You finally confronted him about it, hoping he’d realize that he was treating you like a fuck buddy more than his girlfriend—but instead, Jake argued, claiming he was too “busy” for “all that other dating stuff.”

That was your tipping point.

So, you broke up. And just when you thought you were free and ready to move on, summer ends and Jake reappears like some kind of relationship boomerang.

He apologized, said all the right things, told you how much he missed you—and boom. Hours later, you’re back in his bed, wondering how it all happened.

The cycle was maddening. Each time he’d win you over with apologies and promises, things would feel perfect again, and then…well, you knew how it went.

“This time, it’s really over,” you declare over the pounding music, convincing yourself more than anyone else.

The last breakup was the worst yet. You argued for hours, screaming about relationships and priorities, and it finally hit you: Jake didn’t really deserve your time.

So why was it so hard to let him go?

You brushed away the ache in your heart as your argument came to mind, downing what was left of your drink to somehow dull the pain and take solace in the alcohol settling into your system.

“You just need a rebound.” Aeri says over the music, “I promise you, a good one night stand might just give you a fresh start and get you out of Jake's chokehold.”

“So is that why you dragged me to a party being hosted by his frat house?” You inquired with amusement. “Oh come on! Not every guy here belongs to the frat.”

You mull over her ‘rebound’ statement, eyes surveying the crowd as your nails made dents into the empty can. “Speaking of...” Aeri trails off and you follow the direction of her gaze to another one of your university's well known juniors and soccer players, Park Sunghoon.

Your eyes landed on his, staring at you from across the room with a gaze that made your cheeks warm. Sunghoon was one of the other popular boys in the year. He was sweet, funny, playful and damn that smile— you understood why girls fell at his feet.

You and Sunghoon had a few interactions before. You volunteered as a first aid for their soccer games on a few occasions, and he consistently took the chance to talk to you whenever you were present or needed his supposedly real injuries examined.

“He's been watching you for quite a while now.” She adds, playfully bumping her shoulder against yours. You divert your attention from him and look back at your best friend who was sporting a cheeky grin.

“The goalkeeper, Ae? That’s such a low blow.”

The girl besides you shrugs, moving her body to the beat of the music, “So…? He clearly likes you and I’m one hundred percent sure he’d treat you better than he ever did.”

You’re about to open your mouth to say something when she cuts you off. “Oh! I think I have to go to the…bathroom! I’ll see you later (Y/N).” She says, pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek before rushing away from your side.

Your eyebrows meet in confusion as she dashes away from you, mouth agape at her sudden and abrupt departure—even running the opposite way.

But before your mind can conjure up any reasons, you hear your name being called in the loud crowd, turning to see Sunghoon making his way to you.

Oh. I see what you did there Aeri.

"Hey, angel," Sunghoon’s voice is low, with that unmistakable charm as he saunters up to you, eyes locked on yours.

"Sunghoon," you breathe, smiling as he closes the distance, his arms opening for you. His gaze flickers over your face, lingering just long enough to send a shiver down your spine.

"Knew I’d recognize that pretty face anywhere," he murmurs as his arms slip around your waist, pulling you close.

For a moment, you let yourself sink into him—his scent wrapping around you, the firm warmth of his hands pressing against your lower back. It’s like everything around you fades except the feel of his body, the way your heart picks up in rhythm with his.

“How’ve you been?” you ask softly, voice catching just a bit as he pulls away, though his hands stay where they are, fingers resting casually on your hips.

“Any ‘injuries’ since I’ve been gone?” You tease, and the sound of his laugh sends a thrill through you.

“You noticed, huh?” Sunghoon’s voice drops a notch lower, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles just above your hip.

You smirk, raising an eyebrow. "How many times were you going to fake a knee injury in one game?”

“As many times as it took to get you close.” His hand lifts, brushing a few strands of hair from your face, his fingertips grazing your skin just enough to make you bite your lip.

“It’s kinda hard to keep my eyes on you when I'm supposed to be, y’know…playing.” His lips curl into a slow smirk, eyes burning into yours.

“Well,” you whisper, feeling the heat rise between you, “you’ve got me all to yourself now.”

Sunghoon’s gaze drops to your lips, making your pulse race. The air thickens, and the corner of his mouth lifts. “Yeah?” His voice is pure temptation, his thumb brushing your bottom lip. “Do I get to kiss you too?”

You don’t even have to think about it. You nod, lips parting slightly, eyes dipping to his mouth. His smirk deepens as he closes the distance, and your breath catches, waiting for the touch you've been craving.

Sunghoon wasted no time kissing you, softly crashing his lips against yours in a way that made you hum in content.

You could taste the remnants of his drink as he kissed you slowly and softly, meticulously exploring your mouth with his tongue as his hands stayed glued to your hips, rubbing your sides through the silk fabric of your minidress.

Your hand drifted to his, guiding it down to cup your ass which made him groan into your mouth. Sunghoon broke away from the kiss, softly biting your bottom lip as he pulled away with a smirk.

He leans closer to the shell of your ear as he whispers, “Do you want to take this upstairs?” The feeling of his hand caressing your ass makes you sigh, already feeling the fabric of your underwear sticking to you.

But before you could even respond, your eyes landed on someone who had suddenly materialised across the room, heart dropping to your stomach and your breath catching in your throat.

Jake.

His clenched jaw made you conclude that his eyes were seemingly already on you for what must’ve been like a while now, searing holes through you and Sunghoon from afar.

Your ears grew warm, gently pushing the tall man off you with a strained exhale. “Is everything alright? Did I do anything wrong?” Sunghoon asked as he scanned you worryingly.

“Of course not!” You immediately protest, “I just…” you trailed off as your eyes darted to the man who was still staring at you before they landed back on Sunghoon’s concerned ones.

“I don’t think I’m feeling well.”

It wasn’t a lie. You felt like you were gonna throw up with all the bile that was rising in your throat.

Why did he have to appear right now?

You could feel yourself slowly sobering up as you glanced at Jake once again, warm brown eyes staring you down in a way that made your breathing stutter.

“I think I need to go to the bathroom.” You mutter as you look away, swallowing the unwelcomed lump in your throat.

“Oh…the line to the bathroom looks pretty bad right now, you could use ours upstairs?”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Sure!” He nods with a smile, “do you want me to go with you?”

You shake your head, “It's okay, I’ll…I’ll be back” You smile weakly, pressing a quick kiss on Sunghoon’s lips before you slip away from his hold.

You couldn’t even bother to reply to his distant “call me if you need me” as you travelled through the sea of bodies, trying to find your way to stairs as your heart hammered out of your chest.

Shit.

Nothing could’ve prepared you to actually see Jake, even if you half-heartedly expected it. The frat house was so large, you had concluded that you probably wouldn’t have to see him.

Some part of you—regrettably and painfully so, already concluded that he was probably somewhere, rutting into some girl that threw herself at him, celebrating the freedom of being single or something.

You stormed up the stairs, making a beeline for the bathroom, relieved to find that it was empty as Sunghoon had mentioned, and as soon as the door closed behind you, you let out a weary sigh, muttering a curse under your breath.

Now you were mad at yourself. Why did you push Sunghoon away?

You could’ve let the junior lead you upstairs all while Sunghoon watched, knowing he knew exactly what you’d be up to–but you pushed him off. You could already imagine Jake’s joy when you walked away, leaving Sunghoon alone in the crowd.

Well done (Y/N).

Well-fucking-done. You thought to yourself as you looked at your reflection in the mirror, but your little self berating session was interrupted by the suddenly louder and crispier sound of music emitting into the bathroom, eyes travelling to the opened door.

When Jake comes into view, you roll your eyes and sigh inwardly. “What the hell do you want, Jake?” Is all you say, instantly plagued by irritation.

It was hard to admit, but he did look good tonight. All traces of his once blonde tinged hair were drowned out by the colour of jet black and it suited him so well.

He was dressed in a black dress shirt, chain around his neck and pair of loose fitting jeans that hung around his hips—a simple outfit that still looked undeniably great on him.

“I just came to check on you,” he shoves his hands in his back pockets as he nods his head to the door, “you didn’t look so well out there.”

“I’m fine.” You say, turning away, “can you get fuck out now?”

“Woah, just hang on a sec,” Jake sighs, “I haven’t seen you in ages, princess.”

Princess.

“I’m not your princess anymore Jake,” you deadpanned. “We broke up, remember? For good this time.” You added, emphasising the finality of it.

You wanted to make it clear that there was no going back, that this time Jake couldn't make you cave or entice you to return.

You were ready for something–someone– new, and you were pretty sure he was still waiting for you downstairs.

This was the perfect time to leave before you’d probably do anything you’d regret, especially when you noticed Jake’s lingering gaze on your minidress.

You cleared your throat, rolling your eyes as you tried to slip past Jake, but he blocked your way, his hand grabbing your wrist. His grip wasn’t forceful, but it was enough to halt you. “So, you’re really going back to him?” His words were sharp, a hint of desperation creeping in.

You rolled your eyes dramatically. “That’s none of your business.” Yanking your hand free, you spun on your heel, making for the door without so much as a second glance.

“(Y/N), baby, wait.” He followed closely, reaching out again, but you dodged him with a huff, crossing your arms tighter around yourself.

“Jake, seriously, just leave me alone.”

“Baby—” He finally managed to catch your arm, stopping you in your tracks. You groaned, throwing your head back with exaggerated frustration. “What now, Jake?”

He tried to meet your eyes, but you refused, stubbornly staring at anything that wasn’t his face. His hand cupped your chin, gently turning your face to his. “Can we please talk? Please?” Jake’s voice was soft, almost pleading, and that stupid thumb of his traced along your jaw, sending a wave of heat through you that you definitely did not want to feel right now.

“Fine. Whatever,” you muttered, not quite looking at him but letting him lead you into his room.

As the door closed behind you, muffling the noise of the party downstairs, your gaze drifted around the room, filled with memories you weren’t ready to be reminded of yet.

But Jake didn’t give you the chance to settle into those thoughts. “Sunghoon?” he asked, his voice dripping with disbelief as he turned to you. His expression darkened instantly. “Seriously? Sunghoon?”

You snorted, shrugging carelessly. “Yeah, so what? He’s hot.”

Jake’s jaw clenched so hard you could practically hear his teeth grinding together. “So, what—you’re actually gonna sleep with him?” He sounded like he couldn’t decide if he was hurt or furious.

You folded your arms, lifting your chin defiantly. “Maybe. What’s it to you?”

“What’s it to me?” He stepped closer, and this time, you didn’t flinch. You wanted him to be mad. You liked him like this, all riled up and focused on you.

“You’re gonna fuck the one guy you told me not to worry about? The guy who’s been after you since the day we got together? My friend and my teammate?”

His eyes narrowed at you and you shrugged again, feigning indifference even though your heart was beating way too fast. “We’re not together anymore, Jake. I can sleep with whoever I want.”

Jake’s eyes flashed with something you couldn’t quite read—anger, hurt, jealousy, all rolled into one.

“Wow. You really don’t care, do you?” His voice had gone quiet now, the kind of quiet that made you feel something twist in your stomach.

You opened your mouth to snap back, but the words didn’t come out as easily as you wanted them to. “I don’t…I mean, I told you, I’m not your girlfriend. You don’t get to—

“I don’t get to?” He cut you off, his laugh bitter as he ran his hand through his hair, pacing in front of you. “You’ve really moved on, huh? That easy?”

You swallowed hard, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. This wasn’t how you wanted this to go. But before you could say anything, he stepped closer again, backing you up until your legs hit the bed.

“You still feel something, (Y/N),” he said, his voice low, and the way his eyes bore into yours made it impossible to deny, even if you wanted to. “You’re still mine. You know it.”

Your heart was racing now, his closeness making it hard to breathe. But you weren’t about to let him win that easily. “I’m not yours, Jake. Not anymore.” Your voice wavered, just slightly, but you held your ground.

His hand reached out, fingertips brushing your arm, the touch so light it made your skin tingle. “Say it again,” he murmured, leaning closer. “Tell me you don’t care.”

You swallowed, hating how your resolve was crumbling under his touch. “I—I don’t care,” you repeated, but the words sounded less convincing now, and you both knew it.

“I’m done with you, Jake.” Your voice came out sharper, laced with defiance, but the flicker of doubt behind it didn’t go unnoticed by your ex boyfriend.

“Are you sure?” Jake’s words were smooth, almost teasing, as he leaned in closer, fingers drifting over to the slope of your neck. He saw the way your eyes betrayed you, flickering to his lips for a brief second, and his smirk grew. “Because you don’t look over me.”

You rolled your eyes, even though your pulse quickened. “Has anyone ever told you how insufferable you are?” The bitterness in your laugh didn’t mask the heat that rose to your cheeks.

“Maybe. But it doesn’t make it any less true,” he said, his voice infuriatingly smug. “I saw you staring at me out there, (Y/N). You couldn’t keep your eyes off me, even with him standing right there.”

“You’re delusional,” you shot back, but the words didn’t have the bite you wanted them to. There was an edge of frustration—at him, at yourself—that you couldn’t shake. “I wasn’t staring at you.”

Jake chuckled softly, stepping in just enough that you could feel his breath against your skin. “Sure, baby. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“You are such an asshole,” you hissed, trying to inject some venom into the words, but it came out more exasperated than you intended.

Jake tilted his head, his gaze softening in that maddening way, like he knew exactly how to unravel you. “Come on (Y/N), don’t be like that. You know you miss me.”

You clenched your jaw, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach, the warmth creeping into your chest. “I don’t miss anything about you.”

“Really?” he whispered, his hand finding its way to your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as his touch sent sparks through your skin. “Because I miss you. I’ve been thinking about you all week.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you could feel the traitorous warmth spreading through your veins.

His eyes—those stupid, beautiful brown eyes—were staring right into yours, and you hated that they still had that effect on you. But you weren’t about to give in. Not this time.

“I bet you have,” you muttered, rolling your eyes, though the sarcasm lacked its usual punch. “Probably because you miss having someone at your beck and call.”

Jake’s smirk flattered, but his gaze didn’t waver. “That’s not it, and you know it.” His voice was lower now, more intimate, tracing his thumb along your jaw. “I miss you.”

Your chest tightened and you hated how easily he got to you, how your demeanor crumbled the second he looked at you like that.

“I’ve moved on,” you said, but your voice was weak, barely above a whisper.

“Have you?” He breathed, leaning in so close you could feel the heat of his bated breath against your lips, “because right now, you don’t look like someone who’s moved on.”

You should’ve pushed him away, told him off like you promised Aeri you would. But instead, a warm feeling fluttered in the pit of your stomach as his lips hovered just out of reach.

Jake’s fingers traced the line of your jaw, then down the side of your neck, sending electric shivers through your body as he leaned in even closer. The air between you was thick with tension, your breath shaky as you struggled to maintain control, slowly failing your resistance to give in to the desire that threatened to pull you under.

Jake’s lips brushed against yours before crashing against them in a heated, desperate kiss, his hand falling waist with tightening grip as if he was afraid to let go.

You kissed him back fiercely, your hands gripping his shirt as if to anchor yourself to the moment, all the anger, frustration, and unresolved feelings pouring into the kiss.

His soft plump lips moved unrelenting and hungrily against yours, his hands moving to cup your cheeks, fingers resting on your jaw as he deepened the kiss.

You tried to stay balanced as so many feelings crashed over you in equal measures, desperately leaning up into the kiss as you tried to match his fervour.

Oh, how you missed it.

His lips, his touch.

It all felt like a drug, a drug you disappointingly couldn't get enough of.

You fell into the bed softly, letting Jake hover over you without breaking the kisses, “I missed you.” he whispers, before kissing you again.

For a split second, you pulled back, breathless, your chest rising and falling as you looked up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. “You’re still an asshole,” you muttered, though there was no bite left in your voice now.

Jake’s lips curved into a smirk as he leaned in again, capturing your lips in another kiss, this one slower, softer. “Yeah, but you’re still kissing me,” he whispered against your lips.

Jake’s lips continued to moved against yours and you could barely breathe from the tightness in your chest, tangling your fingers into his soft hair as you drew him closer.

He pulled away and you barely had a second to think before his lips were on your neck, head falling to the side as soft sloppy kisses were pressed onto your skin, eliciting a soft moan from you.

You could feel Jake smirk against your neck, sucking marks into your skin that you were sure he wanted to show.

Your eyes flutter shut as his hands slowly ease down your body, his touch firmer than last time, lips lingering on the slope of your neck and fingers sliding under your dress.

Jake’s warm palm slid up the inside of your thighs and a wave of anticipation and desire coursed through you, a sound escaping your throat only to be muffled by his lips.

He pulled away and latched his lips to your collarbone, sucking and littering the skin with hues of purple as his fingers traced along your underwear making you arch your back reflectively.

"I’ve missed this." Jake whispers, hooking his finger around the waistband of your underwear, pressing a trail of sloppy kisses down the valley of your breasts as he slowly pulls your underwear off.

A shaky sigh fell past your lips at the feeling of the cool air hitting your cunt, and you couldn’t help but cry at the feeling of Jake’s fingers running up your glistening folds.

“Well…I…haven’t.” You breathe out stubbornly as his other hand pushes your straps over your arms, fingers brushing the cup of your dress away and running over your naked breasts.

The feeling of his cold rings grazing over your nipples makes you clench around nothing, half lidded eyes staring back at his lustful ones.

“Hmm. Really?” He asks, looking down between your legs, raising his eyebrow as he looked up.

“That was probably…” You begin, slowly losing your train of thought at the feeling of his hand caressing your breasts. “Shit—that was probably Sunghoon” You only manage to say in between swallowed moans.

“Come again?”

Your cheeky smile was quickly wiped off, as his fingers traced up and down your folds, biting your lip with a whine as he circled your wet entrance.

A soft breathy moan leaves your lips, hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as his fingers slid into you with ease, leaning into his touch. “Jake, shit—” Your voice cuts off, mouth falling agape as he slowly drags his fingers in and out of you.

“That’s what I thought.”

Prick.

Jake’s plump lips latch onto your erect nipple, tongue swirling and sucking on the sensitive bud and your head falls back into the pillow biting your lip as your hands weave into Jake’s soft hair.

Jake groaned around your sensitive bud, making your whole body twitch at the vibration. His tongue moved to your other one, giving it the same treatment and you couldn't stop yourself from grinding against him, needing more.

His tongue and fingers were doing wonders on you, trying to silence the sounds falling from your lips. You resisted your moans by biting your lip to avoid giving him that satisfaction—which he obviously hated.

Jake could still tell that you were falling apart, ruining the fabric of his shirt and grinding into his fingers breathlessly, but that wasn't enough, he wanted to hear you.

“So we’re playing it that way, huh?” He pulled away, chest heaving against yours as you grabbed his arm, fingers continuing to pump into you, throwing head back with a breathy, almost silent moan before looking back at him.

“What way?” You rasped, feigning innocence, watching your ex-boyfriend chuckle to himself.

“Okay.”

And before you could get lost in the feeling of his fingers any longer, he slips out of your cunt, whining at the loss of his touch.

You were barely given time to protest or process anything before he swiftly flipped you over, face meeting the soft pillows that adorned his bed with a surprised gasp.

You could feel your heart thrum against your chest, face growing warm at the compromising position Jake just put you in.

You turned around, glancing at Jake's lips wrapped around his fingers, sucking your arousal clean off with a delighted hum.

He eyes darted over to yours, and you tore your eyes away, that dull ache returning to your thighs from the sight.

“M’gonna fuck you so good,” Jake's eyes trailed over your backside, “you’ll scream my name.” He groaned, kneading the soft flesh of your ass as your breath stuttered.

Jake quickly got rid of his clothes and you hated the way your heart skipped a beat in anticipation.

“Are you sure about that?” You challenge, almost yelping when he suddenly grabs your hips flush to his own.

He leaned over to you, brushing your hair away from your face as he pressed a soft kiss on the side of your temple.

“You and that damn attitude.” Jake clicked his tongue as he ran his cock along your folds, soft whimpers leaving your lips as he slowly pushed himself into you.

Jake watched as he eased himself in, moaning at the way your warmth and wetness sucked him in like a vacuum.

The stretch felt so good, so undeniably good and you hated the way your walls instantly fluttered around him, soft pathetic sounds falling out of your lips as he began to move, grabbing the sheets beneath with your swallowed cries.

You clamp your hand over your mouth and Jake glares, shaking his head with an affronted expression as he grabs that wrist, pinning it behind your back as he continues to work himself in and out of you.

“Shit.” You gasp, letting a few whimpers slip past your lips, cheek flushed against the soft pillows, a few moans escaping your throat at the feeling of him brushing over in a way that made your vision cloudy before closing your mouth.

"You're taking me soooo well, baby.” Jake’s brows drew together with a moan, snapping his hips to yours as you clenched around him.

"Fuck, you missed this didn't you?" He hissed, watching you writhe in pleasure.

You were a mess beneath him, tears pricking your eyes at the way he relentlessly pounded into you.

You let out a loud gasp when Jake reached under to play with your clit, pressing his finger into it, "Jake." You whispered with a whimper, fisting the sheets, still stubbornly refusing to make any sound—which Jake only took as a challenge.

Your heart couldn't help but swell with guilt when Sunghoon came to mind, still awaiting your return.

Or maybe he wasn’t. Maybe after a few minutes had passed, he went over to check on you, only to hear your moans emitting from the crevices of Jake's door before walking away.

Jake really did have a chokehold on you.

The man pulled out with a curse, and you cried at the sudden loss. You were about to turn around to protest when Jake gripped the base of his cock, lining up with your puffy entrance again.

With no warning, Jake plunged his dick into your tight heat, the sound of skin slapping against each other and a scream leaving your lips as the man fucked you relentlessly.

“That's it, princess, let me hear those beautiful moans.”

“Oh, fuck.” You moaned, gasping and writhing, arching your back and pushing yourself against his cock, begging for more.

“You're so fucking good around me- fucking made for me.” Jake groans, low moans tumbling from his lips.

"You're mine aren't you?"

Of course, you wanted to scream no—you wanted to deny his claim, but his name spilled out of your lips, again and again, begging him not to stop.

"Say you're mine." He hissed, pounding his cock into you. Your heart raced, and you were certain that he could feel it as the pleasure continuously washed over you.

"Say it."

“Jake oh my—” you’re cut off by your own moan the moment he hit your sweet spot, your face hot as you let out lewd sounds into the pillows with no control of your own, throat strained already.

"Fuck—Yes! I'm yours." You screamed, tears spilling out of your eyes as he worked his hand around your clit.

“I’m yours.” You moaned, clawing at the sheets. He continued to rub his finger over your swollen bud, his other hand reaching over to gently grab a fistful of your hair bringing you flush to his chest.

You could feel your legs begin to tremble as profound pleasure coursed through you, hands flailing around to grip on his shoulder as you continuously surged forward from Jake’s thrusts.

“That’s right, baby.” He rasped, almost bordering whimpers as he continued to pump in you, thick velvety walls hugging him so tightly, slipping in and out of you with such ease.

Your whimpers and screams echoed through the room, legs threatening to give out from just how good he felt, dizzying and intense pleasure washing over you everytime he thrusted into you.

You were too fucked out to be self conscious about your loud moans, or concerned that maybe people could somehow hear Jake fucking your brains out over the loud music.

If you weren’t so clouded and already fucked out, you would’ve guessed that Jake probably loved how loud you were.

It felt like he was telling the whole house that you were still his no matter what—especially Park Sunghoon.

Jake would notice the goalkeeper staring at you from across the field, cozying up to you as if he wasn’t just a few metres away from you— the nerve.

Like what the fuck happened to bro code?

“Do you think he can make you feel this way baby?” he asks and your mouth falls agape, brain foggy. You shook your head with a whimper.

You were so out of focus, his dick so good and stupefying that you couldn't even speak.

Jake revelled in the moans of his name tumbling past your lips. The thought of another guy’s name leaving those pretty lips drove him crazy, you were his, he had no idea what was going in Sunghoon’s mind to think that he could actually be with you.

He could feel you tightening around him and he knew you were close, thrusts growing erratic as he chased his own release.

"Say my name." He hissed, "tell me who makes you feel this good."

"Jake-"

“I can’t hear you princess.” He groaned.

"Jake!" You sobbed, gasping and squirming as the pleasure became too much.

"That’s it, come for me, baby." He cooed, wrapping an arm around your neck and squeezing it gently.

The pressure on your throat, and the way his fingers played with your clit were enough to make you scream out his name, the coil in your stomach finally snapping, walls clamping around him and milking him for all he's worth as your legs shook, vision blackening, and eyes squeezing shut.

You moan his name, the only thing running through your mind and leaving your lips as he places you back into the bed, holding your hips.

"That’s right." Jake groaned, still slamming his hips into you. "Who does your pussy belong to?"

“Fuck,” you cried out, feeling another orgasm creep in, "it belongs to you, only you." You mewled as your walls tightened, shattering pleasure rippling through you once again, as his thrusts finally slowed.

“Such a pretty sight for me.” He moaned with a final thrust, shooting his seed into you as he rode out your highs.

Jake continued to empty his load into you, softly whimpering at the sudden warmth coating your walls until he finally pulled out of you.

Your head fell into pillows, the aftershocks of your orgasms still rippling through you as you tried to catch your breath.

"(Y/N)," He said softly, and you could feel his hands rest on the slope of neck and you slowly turned to look at him.

Jake gently wiped away your stray tears, his eyes looking for some sort of affirmation that what he did was okay, that he hadn't gone too far, that he didn't hurt you.

"You okay?"

You nodded with a dazed laugh, “Yeah, I’m fine.” You rasped, as he enveloped your lips in a sloppy and gentle kiss.

Jake wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing the marks on your neck that he left a while ago.

“Stay over.” He whispers against your skin and your shoulders fall with a sigh, hands brushing his slightly damp hair away from his face, “I don’t know Jake…”

“Just for tonight.”

“Please.” He begs, in a softer tone. You looked at him— at his pretty face, his pink plump lips and his slightly messy hair, breathing in the mellow undertones of sweet vanilla in the perfume he was wearing tonight.

“Jake.” You whisper again, as you watch his hands caress your shoulders. You look up at him, ready to turn him down but you don’t say anything.

“We don’t have to do anything…I just want to be with you.”

Those words.

It’s like you could see your past self rolling her eyes, “not again.”

“Okay.”

You let him pull you back to his chest, let him wrap his arms around you as you fell asleep, lulled by the rise and fall of his chest and the sound of his beating heart.

Jake watched you fall asleep in his arms, and the sight alone made him forget about the world outside, and the ache that was still in his chest.

It was just for tonight.

Just for tonight.

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #jake sim x reader #sim jaehyun x reader #jake sim smut #sim jaeyun smut #jake x reader #jake smut #exes to lovers #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #kpop smut #smut

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storiesaplenty · 1 day

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Join Us (18+)

Cregan Stark x f/Reader x Jacaerys Velaryon

House of the Dragon Masterlist

Main Masterlist

This has not been proofread. Please enjoy though.

Warnings: Smut under the cut. Unprotected sex. Oral (m receiving) 2m x 1w. Cum swallowing.

WC: 682

Summary: Jace walks in on Cregan & his betrothed. Instead of asking Jace to leave, she asked him to stay, with Cregan permission of course.

"Oh, I am sorry Cregan." The surprised voice of Jacaerys Velaryon said from the entrance to the library.

"Jace! I'll be with you in just a few moments." Cregan grunted from behind the woman.

"Your guard said you would be here." Jace hasn't move from the door, as his eyes were trained on what he has walked into.

Cregan was standing behind his betrothed, her skirt flipped up over her ass as his hips thrust in and out of her.

Her eyes were half-closed, her mouth was hanging open as soft little whines fell from her lips.

"I'll just step outside." Jace said, but made no indication to move as his eyes were zoned on her face.

He felt his cock twitch in his pants, and he cleared his throat as he turned to finally leave the two of them, when he heard his name being called, making him stop on his tracks.

"Join us Jace." She softly called out, forcing the Prince to turn around, not believing what he was hearing.

"My woman wishes for you to join us, and you are the only one I trust."

"But, but, but," Was all the flushed Prince could stutter as she held her arm up, as she reached for Jace.

"Just my mouth Jace."

She opened her mouth, waiting for him to do something.

Jace was fighting an inner battle with himself.

He was betrothed already.

Cregan was his best friend.

"Jace. I will take away the offer." Cregan said, as he smacked her ass, making her squeal.

Before Jace realised what he was doing, his cock was in his hand, and he was holding the back over her head as she gripped his cock and took him in her mouth.

"That's a good lad. Her mouth is wonderful." Cregan said as he watched his betrothed start to move her head up and down his best friends cock.

"It really is wonderful." Jace said, his eyes fluttering as she took him down her throat.

"Oh my," Jace cried out as she hummed around his cock. The vibration sending a chill up his spine.

Cregan just laughed as he fucked her harder and faster, helping her move her head up and down Jace's cock.

"Oh!" Jace exclaimed as he gripped her head tightly.

"I bet she is spelling your name right now." Cregan said, knowing exactly what she was doing to the poor, Prince.

"I think so. Seven hells, I am not going to last much longer." Jace cried out, making her giggle around his cock as she started to move her head up and down his cock even faster.

"Go on. Cum for her." Cregan said, and that was all Jace needed as he came with a shout of her name, his legs shaking as he gripped her head tightly.

Jace watched her swallow down his load, not believing that this actually happened.

Cregan was fucking her hard, his own end near. He pulled out of her, and she got on her knees, her mouth open as Cregan placed just the tip on her mouth and came.

Jace watched this all with wonder as she didn't swallow any of the cum, just let him fill her mouth and let it dribble down her chin.

"Now you may swallow." Cregan gently said, and to Jace utter amazement, she closed her mouth and swallowed it.

Cregan and his betrothed fixed themselves up before looking at Jace, who has already fixed himself up.

"Now, what did you need?" Cregan asked.

"The war." Was all Jace could get out.

"Ahh yes. I forgot about it for a moment. Come, let us go and discuss it."

He turned to his betrothed, and kissed her gently on the forehead. "Go and get cleaned up. I will see you for dinner."

She left the two of them alone, happy and content with what happened, as was Cregan, but Jace, his mind was filled with her in different positions.

His name falling from her lips instead of Cregan.

Jace was brought back to reality when Cregan was calling his name.

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cinnaleaf · 1 day

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ESSENCE OF US - CH 6: IN LIMBO*

Please read responsibly. This fic will get hot and heavy as the story progresses, 18+ only MDNI | READ CH 5 | MASTERLIST | READ CH 7 [soon]

summary: a fleeting encounter with a mysterious Trent leaves you wondering if fate is playing a bigger match. your paths continue to cross in unexpected places as the fragrances around you mirror the growing tension between you. maybe it's just a coincidence..or maybe its destiny in the making.

warnings: ANGSTY, SMUT, unprotected sex, language, intense anxiety genre: angst, fluff, slow(ish) burn romance wc: ~7.6k a/n: L'Équilibre Caché means hidden balance

A couple of months passed since you and Trent made things official. You weren’t sure how time flew by so quickly, but it felt right. In the beginning, you were inseparable; always at his house or your apartment, grabbing late night eats, or waking up to the best cuddles and lazy kisses. However, recently things slowed down. Life happened. Trent was busy with football, and you were buried deep in preparation for your perfume launch. It was taking longer than you anticipated, thanks to a very handsome distraction.

You glanced around Les Notes d’Amour, inhaling the mix of floral, citrus, and spice elements that lingered in the air. The launch was still a few months away, but your nerves were starting to creep in because nothing felt solid yet. As much as you hated to admit it, this was your most personal creation and you didn’t want to mess it up. You sat at the counter with your lavender notebook open, absentmindedly scribbling ideas for any new scents you could add as you watched a live interview of Trent on your phone. God, he looked so good. How could someone look so sexy post match? You continued scribbling and jotting down ideas on different pages for inspiration. One page was blank, except for a small doodle of a solar eclipse in the corner with a sentence written that said ‘I want you for as long as the stars shine’, but you didn’t notice it as you flipped past since you were too occupied by how good he looked on your screen. Seeing his smile always gave you butterflies, even if it was just on a phone screen.

“Mate, I gotta ask..” the interviewer said, leaning forward. “what aftershave are you wearing? You smell amazing.”

You froze, the pen dropping against the notebook paper immediately.

Oh, shit. Please don’t.

Trent grinned, clearly enthralled by the compliment as he reached in his jacket. “Ahh, this? It's custom..one of a kind actually. Made just for me by my gi–umm… someone close.”

No, no, no. He almost said girlfriend, there’s no way no one caught that.

“It's called Rêveur,” he said, pulling out the bottle and holding it up for the camera. He tried to be subtle, he really did, but he failed miserably—like always. He turned the bottle in an attempt to hide the logo, but in his excitement he twisted it back to reveal the full label: Rêveur by Les Notes d’Amour. Y/N L/N.

Fuuuuuuuck.

You felt your stomach drop. This was it. The final puzzle piece the media needed to confirm you were his girlfriend. The suspicions were already there of course, but there wasn’t a clear and definite answer until now. Your phone started going off immediately as banners popped up at the top of your screen. Emails, notifications, messages, website inquiries. You stared at the screen while the interviewer looked at the bottle with curious eyes. Trent was completely clueless about leaking the label. He stood there with the biggest smile on his face, going on about how special it was and how much he loved it. It would’ve been a cute moment if it weren’t for the logo being caught on screen in 4k quality. You grabbed your phone, frantically texting him as your fingers moved at the speed of light.

WTF??? LOGO ON SCREEN!! YOU HAD ONE JOB

You sat there, fumbling back and forth between the live interview and your texts as you waited for his response. There was no way he was going to see your text while he was on camera, but it was worth a shot. Your anxiety started creeping in like an iron grip. Both of you were trying so hard to keep things lowkey, and he just tossed your name out there like it was nothing. You swiped back to your texts, adding another message as your fingers typed furiously. There was no way out of this anymore, it was done. Fully revealed.

?????? YOU JUST OUTED US LIVE ON TV

Everything was blowing up, everyone had seen your name. “Fucking fantastic,” you muttered under your breath as you flipped your phone face down on the counter. “This is going to be a disaster.”

The door chimed about an hour later with a group of teenagers barging in, extremely loud and voices filled with energy. They couldn’t have been older than sixteen. You immediately felt your blood pressure rise when you saw them eyeing the fragrances and giggling.

“Aye, is this the place that made Trent’s aftershave?” one of the boys asked, already making his way to the shelves to pick up a tester fragrance that was definitely not Rêveur. You never planned on selling it. It was supposed to be something special—something just for Trent.

“Yeah bro, it’s gotta be,” his friend answered, spraying half of a tester bottle in the air. The sweet, musky scent of tonka bean and coconut filled the room instantly as you saw him juggling the bottle so carelessly.

“Be careful with that!” you called out, stepping forward just as the bottle slipped from his hands and shattered on the floor. The scent of coconut and tonka bean flooded the room and you felt your chest tighten.

Fucking perfect.

One of the girls snickered. “Oops, sorrrrryyyy” she said, though it was clear she really didn’t give a fuck. You forced a smile but internally, you were screaming.

Get out, get out, get out.

“Is Trent your boyfriend or somethin’?” another boy asked, picking up another bottle and spraying it into the air. “That’s ace.”

No, not ace. Stressful. Stressful as hell, actually.

After what felt like an eternity, they finally left, slamming the door behind them in a fit of giggles as you tried to clean up the mess. There was an overwhelming scent of tonka bean and coconut which was starting to make your head pound. You barely had time to breathe before the next customer walked in. The woman was in her mid-fifties with a stiff bob, you know the one. She immediately stormed up to the counter with a sense of entitlement and you knew exactly what was coming next.

“Excuse me,” she said, dripping with impatience. “I’ve been calling for over an hour and no one has answered. Give me that aftershave everyone’s talking about. I need it for my husband. The one Trent Alexander-Arnold mentioned on the telly.”

Your headache intensified immediately. “Sorry ma’am, it’s not for sale,” you replied, trying to stay polite as possible. You knew this lady was going to be the most annoying person ever and you weren’t in the mood for it. At all. “Not for sale?” She blinked, clearly offended. “That’s ridiculous. Who would make something, advertise it, and not sell it? What about the customer experience? That’s just bad business.” You took a deep breath, gripping the counter to steady yourself. “It’s custom. It’s not available to the public.”

“Well that’s poor planning, isn’t it?” she snapped. “What kind of business is this? I want to speak to the manager.”

Lady, I AM the manager. Fuck off. Just LEAVE.

You took a deep breath before responding, “I own the place. The aftershave isn’t for sale..sorry.” After hearing a long spiel about how terrible your business model was, she finally left after muttering something about never coming back. Thank god. You exhaled, rubbing your hands against your aching temples.

Fuck, I need a paracetamol.

But of course, the universe was not on your side today. The door chimed again, this time it was an American tourist in head to toe designer. You immediately cringed seeing the abundance of huge branded logos clashing against each other: Chanel, Louis Vuitton, Fendi and Prada all in one outfit? Jesus, did she hop on a plane right after visiting Rodeo Drive? “Ohmygawd, is this where Trent got his cologne?!” she exclaimed, her valley girl accent was unmistakable. She had to be from California. Behind her, her bored looking boyfriend leaned against a display, not interested in the slightest.

Ugh. Here we go again.

“I like, really need to get it for my boyfriend,” she continued, her voice in complete vocal fry. “Do you guys have it?”

“It’s not for sale, sorry,” you replied, trying to maintain your composure. Her face fell as she flipped her blonde hair back dramatically with a pout. “Ugh, seriously?? I totally would’ve bought like five bottles. I bet it smells soooo good.”

“Babe, can we go? I wanna hit the pub before they close.” her boyfriend asked, lazily scrolling through his phone. After a few more whiny complaints, she finally left and dragged her very disinterested boyfriend behind her. You were standing in the middle of the shop as the scent of coconut and tonka bean lingered in the air, your nerves fried and head pounding so hard it was starting to make you feel nauseous and dizzy. Customers poured in all day begging for ‘The Trent Scent’. That’s what they were calling it now instead of Rêveur. It had officially gone viral.

You closed your eyes once people stopped shuffling in, trying to give yourself a few minutes of peace from the overwhelming scent and incessant ringing. But of course, the universe had other ideas. Your phone rang and as soon as you glanced at the screen, your stomach twisted immediately–Mum.

Fucking hell. Out of all days?

You debated not answering, but you knew she would keep calling until you did. This wasn’t going to be a casual check-in, and you definitely didn’t have the energy for a follow up interrogation later on. It was best to get it over with now. You sighed, swiping to accept the call.

“Hi Mum.”

“Y/N! We were just talking about you!” Your mother’s voice was overly cheery, which meant she was about to start going on a long winded spiel about how proud she was—of the wrong things. “That’s...great,” you replied, already feeling a cloud of exhaustion sit over you. “Your dad and I just saw that interview with the footballer, Trent,” she continued, completely skipping over the fact that she didn’t even ask you how you were. “It’s wonderful you’re making such good connections. He’s very successful Y/N. Exactly what you need in your life.” You pressed your lips together, fighting your instinct to hang up right then and there. Of course that’s all she cared about. “Yeah…” you said vaguely, not wanting to get into the nitty gritty details. You weren’t going to tell your parents you were on the verge of a breakdown or that you were struggling to keep it together. They wouldn’t understand. They never did.

“You’re really making something of yourself now,” your dad chimed in, they must’ve had you on speaker. “I always knew you could do it. You’re finally setting a proper example for your brother and sister.”Ah, yes. That constant reminder. The example you were supposed to be setting. A perfect, polished version of yourself that never existed. They wanted you to be perfect so badly that they were willing to go to extremes. It was never about you; it was always about how you looked to everyone else, even your younger siblings. Your chest tightened at the thought of your brother and sister. You loved them more than anything. They were the only reason you still kept in touch with your parents at all. But this constant pressure to be perfect and be their shining trophy was suffocating you.

I really need a holiday, you thought to yourself.

“Mum..Dad…” You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice from trembling. “I’ve been really busy with work, it’s been... a lot.”

“We’re so proud of you,” your mom chimed in next. “We always knew you could achieve good things. With Trent you’ll go even further! It’s important to have a man like him supporting you. You lucked out with that one.”

Lucked out?? How am I related to these people?

Your grip tightened on the phone. This happened every time. They didn’t care about you. They only cared about what Trent’s success could do for their image of you. An image you were struggling to mirror. An image that was threatening to crack.

“I–I’m not with him because of his career,” you muttered. But of course, they didn’t hear you over their vain voices. “Ezzie and Ziggy really look up to you, Y/N. This is exactly the type of relationship they should see. A real power couple. Now they know what success looks like” your dad added. That comment stung in more ways than one. Your parents usually spoke about your siblings by using their actual names–Esme and Isaac. You gave them the nicknames Ezzie and Ziggy because they were twins, plus, their nicknames sounded a lot cuter than Esme and Isaac. You were the only person who called them that–you had a myriad of nicknames for them, but your parents only used those nicknames when they wanted to get under your skin. It was used it as a manipulation tactic, a way to say ‘Hey, don’t fuck this up this time. They look up to you’. It made your skin crawl, each word they spoke felt like a punch to the gut. They didn’t care if you were happy, if you were stressed beyond belief, or if you even wanted that type of attention. All they saw was status and an image of success that they could parade around to the world. Pressure began building in your chest which made it harder to breathe. Your voice came out strained, desperate to end the call. “I have to go. Still working.”

“Oh, of course,” your mum said in a light tone, completely unaware that you were on the verge of an anxiety attack. “We’re so thrilled. We always knew what you were capable of.”

“Um, y–yeah. Bye, talk later.”

You hung up before they could say anything else. Your hands started shaking as soon as you set the phone down. The shop was silent but the lights felt bright suddenly, the tonka bean and coconut scent in the air made you feel physically ill. The weight of their words was crushing you and pressing down on your chest until it felt like you couldn’t breathe. Your vision blurred as tears welled up in your eyes. You didn’t want to let yourself break and tried to blink the tears back. The tightness in your chest wouldn’t let up. It felt like the soft, creme colored walls were threatening to close in on you. The weight of their expectations, the pressure to be perfect..it was suffocating you from the inside out.

I’m not enough. I’m never enough. Why can’t I just be me?

You squeezed your temples as the throbbing in your head from the spilled perfume pulsed in time with your heartbeat. The heavy scent of coconut and tonka bean was suffocatingly sweet, squeezing you. Your mind kept whispering, negative words echoing like the cruellest reminder that you would never be good enough. You pressed a hand against your forehead, trying to ease the pounding but it got worse. Tears streamed down your face before you could stop them, spilling over as thoughts settled on you like the world’s largest boulder.

E and Z still think I’m the only person in this world who has it together. I have to keep it together. For them.

You couldn’t stand the idea of failing them. They were one of the few people who saw you for who you really were. The twins were the first two people to believe in you even when you didn’t believe in yourself. They tested every scent you made, bragging to all their friends about how their sister was the best in the industry.

Ziggy’s face flashed in your mind. He was always smiling. It was the same infectious grin that reminded you so much of Trent. He had the same confidence as him, walking onto a pitch like he owned it despite only being fifteen. He was so protective over you and Ezzie. He played with his heart on his sleeve, always the first to support his teammates just like Trent. And then there was Ezzie. She was sharp, stylish, and always quick with a comeback. She had an arsenal of them ready to go at any time. She looked like a mini version of you, but acted just like Camille. She had the same fiery spark, and the confidence to walk in a room and own it; all while dressed in the latest fashion trends. She never missed a beat and was always ready to roll her eyes at the world and give you tips on how things should be done. She was a little diva. You admired her but could never quite match her wit. Although beneath all her sass, she had the biggest heart.

The twins were your heart, your compass when you were lost in a sea of thoughts.

Ezzie would tell me to stop being dramatic and ‘lock it up’ like Camille, you thought. The tears were still streaming down your face.

“I can’t let them down,” you whispered.

You made your way to the back of the shop, each step felt heavier and it was getting harder to focus on anything other than the sharp, dizzying pain in your head. You couldn’t think straight with the wave of panic rising inside of you. As you stumbled to the back you started thinking about Trent.

What’s he going to think when he finds out I can’t handle this? He’s not going to want me anymore.

You were feeling lightheaded; it felt like you were floating outside your own body...like you were watching everything happen from a distance. You were here but not really here. Your mind was trying to escape the suffocating pressure wrapping around you. You gripped the counter for support when you made it to the back room. The room felt like it was spinning and your breathing was fast and shallow.

He needs someone who can handle the pressure of being with him..I’m failing him..and everyone.

You saw Trent’s smiling face in the back of your head. Something that made you feel butterflies a few moments ago was now making you feel like you were burning alive.

Maybe this is a sign. Maybe I misread everything about us. I should’ve seen this coming.

Your heart raced, vision tunneled; all you could do was stand there, frozen in place and unable to think past the storm within you. Just when you felt like you may pass out, the door to the shop opened again but you barely registered the sound of the bell in your dissociative haze. Camille’s voice cut through the storm, “Y/N?! why aren’t you answ–”

You blinked and tried to focus, but the room was still spinning and it took every ounce of effort just to turn around and face her. She took one look at you and immediately crossed the room toward you.

“Hun...what’s going on?” her voice was soft yet firm as she reached to steady you. “You have to calm down.” You tried to speak and tell her you were fine but your words wouldn’t come out. All you could do was shake your head while tears started streaming down your face again. Camille wouldn’t let you push her away, you tried before early in your friendship as an act of self-sabotage and failed. She led you to the nearest chair and guided you to sit. “Y/N, please breathe. Slow, deep breaths. In. Out. Okay?”

You were trying to follow her instructions but each breath felt forced. Your chest was burning but eventually Camille’s presence grounded you and the world came back into focus. “I love you,” she said, handing you a bottle of water. “but you can't keep doing this to yourself. You’re going to burn out.” You swallowed hard, shaking your head. “I’m fine. I just need a minute,” you croaked. Camille let out a long sigh, “No, you’re not fine. You need help. You can’t keep doing this all by yourself and you know it. You’re stressed.” You wanted to argue that you could handle it but the words died before you could get them out. In actuality, you didn’t know how much longer you could keep going like this. The added pressure of being perfect, the public eye now on you, and a booming business felt like too much at once. Self-sabotage was inevitable, and that was the one thing you were confident you could accomplish with absolute perfection. “I...I can’t hire someone Camille. I can’t. This is the only thing I have control over in my life. It’s mine..” you whispered. Camille shook her head, her expression was soft but serious. “Y/N, you cannot control everything and I need you to realize that. You can’t run this place alone. You’re going to run yourself into the ground, and then what?? What’s left after, huh?” You didn’t respond, you just stared down at the floor, fumbling with the water bottle cap as you twisted the cap around the mouth of the bottle. The thought of letting someone else in and letting go of that last bit of control terrified you after what happened the last time. You already lost so much today. Your privacy...your peace. The shop was the only thing you felt like you had left. Something of your own that could never leave you. “Look..I know you hate it,” Camille countered, as if she was reading your mind. “This shit isn’t sustainable though. You need help whether you like it or not.”

“I can’t,” you whispered. “I really can’t.” Camille’s hand squeezed your shoulder gently. “You don’t have to do it alone, Y/N. You’re going to wear yourself thin and have nothing left to give. I can’t let you go out like that, girl. Even Beyoncé has a team.” Her words pondered over you, a small chuckle escaped from your lips when she mentioned Beyoncé. Deep down you knew she was right, but the fear of letting go still had a hold on you.

“Please” Camille uttered softly. “Let someone help you. I’ll help you look, yeah? I’ll ask my dad if he knows anyone.” Your heart clenched when you heard her and you shook your head quickly. “Camille, no. I can’t let you do that. You’ve already done so much for me. I owe you everything. I can’t–” She cut you off with a gentle laugh. “Y/N, please shut up. You don’t owe me anything. That’s what besties are for, right? You hold me up when I’m down, I got you when you’re down. You’ll never walk alone as long as I'm alive. Never.”

Her words hit you hard as the sincerity of her voice broke through the walls that were suffocating you. “I..um, I’ll think about it,” you whispered in a shaky voice. Camille smiled, pulling you into a hug. “That’s all I’m asking. You don't have to make a decision right now...just let me know. We’ll figure it out later. I got you.” You nodded into Camille’s shoulder but the pounding in your head refused to stop. You pulled away, wincing from the bright lights on the ceiling. “Please tell me you have something for a headache in your bag. My head is fucking killing me ever since those teens smashed L’Équilibre Caché on the floor earlier.” Camille raised an eyebrow, fishing around in her purse. “Oh god…teenagers?”

“Yeahhh,” you groaned, pressing your hand on your forehead. “They came in..sprayed everything, and then one of them dropped it. I never want to smell tonka beans or coconut ever again.” Camille snorted, pulling out a pill and handing it over. “That’s exactly why I never want kids. Absolute chaos and they’re not tidy at all. Ew. Not for me.” You laughed before swallowing the pill down with water. “Today was a disaster. People kept asking for the aftershave I made Trent after I said it wasn’t for sale over and over. Everyone was so fucking rude about it.”

Camille laughed, shaking her head. “And that is exactly why you need help. Let someone else deal with telling people ‘we don’t have that, it’s a custom blend’ a million times a day.”

Trent sat on the plane, headphones on, iPad playing a show he found on Netflix. He was attempting to wind down after the match and leaned his head back against the seat, half listening to the show on his iPad while scrolling mindlessly through his phone until he saw a text from you. His stomach dropped as he sat up in the seat. Both texts hit him like a punch.

Y/N 🌙: WTF? LOGO ON SCREEN!! YOU HAD ONE JOB

Y/N 🌙: ?????? YOU JUST OUTED US LIVE ON TV

His heart pounded as he thought about the interview in his head, trying to piece together what he did wrong. He replayed the interview on his iPad, dread hitting him instantly when he realized he held up the bottle with the logo in full view. He was trying to be careful and keep the logo hidden, but he didn’t. He knew you hated the spotlight. You were always so careful about keeping things between you private and you didn’t want the media to twist your relationship into something it wasn’t. Because of his mistake, you were thrust right into the middle of the lights you wanted to avoid at all costs. Trent rubbed his face with both hands as guilt plagued him. He should’ve been more careful. He knew better than to bring the bottle out in the first place but he was just so excited. He was so caught up in the moment, proud of the scent you created for him, and the meaning behind it. He wanted to show you off so bad, he wanted the world to see how amazing you were despite your bashfulness. Most of all, he wanted you to see yourself in the same light. But because of his excitement, he gave the media and internet sleuths the final piece they needed for their puzzle. He glanced out the window of the plane as the night sky stretched beyond the wing. His teammates were joking and talking around him but all he could think about was you.

I fucked up. I really fucked up.

Your panicked texts replayed over in his mind.

I should’ve been more careful. What was I thinking?

He closed his eyes, leaning back in the seat as he turned some music on in his headphones to drown out the laughter surrounding him on the plane. All he was thinking about is how you were feeling right now. He wished he would have seen your texts sooner. He knew you were probably overwhelmed and panicking about what was going to happen next. He had grown to know your anxiety but didn’t quite know the full extent of it just yet. He knew how much the public eye weighed on you and he just added to that burden.

She didn’t want this and I did it anyway. Fuck..I’m going to lose her.

The rest of the flight home felt like it lasted forever. Every thought in his mind was of you. Would this push you away? Did you even want to be with him after this slip up? Trent clenched his jaw, desperately trying to figure out how he could make this right. The more he thought about it, the more helpless he felt. The interview wasn’t something he could undo. It was a permanent reminder that he hurt you inadvertently. He never wanted you to feel exposed or unsafe because of him.

As the plane descended, he pulled his phone out and stared at the screen. He wanted to call you and apologize. He wanted to explain that it wasn’t intentional, but he didn’t even know if you wanted to talk to him right now. He had no idea you were falling apart back at Les Notes d’Amour. He thought you were still trying to process everything.

I have to fix this. I need her to know I’m sorry. I can’t lose her. I love her.

What if an apology wasn’t enough, though? What if this pushed you too far? The thought of it made his chest tighten and all he could do was sit as he waited for the plane to land. Guilt was suffocating him and he needed to see you. Both of you were so busy and he missed you so much that he could hardly focus on the pitch earlier.

I need to see her but I don’t know what to do.

Trent found himself pacing in his living room after he got home. He was staring at his phone and contemplating his next move like a game of chess. Apologizing was the obvious thing to do, but how was he supposed to fix this? You weren’t like any other girls he dated who wanted to be appreciated with showy gestures, expensive gifts, or extravagant holidays. You weren’t impressed by material things because you could just buy it yourself. You had your own money, your own success, and your own life. How was he supposed to fix things with someone who didn’t need him to save the day? For the first time, he didn’t know what to do to make it right. He called the one person he knew would have the perfect answer: His mum.

“Trent, everything alright? How was the match?” Diane’s voice brought him a sense of comfort but it wasn’t enough to ease the uncertainty swirling around him.

“Mum, I messed up” he said, running a hand over the back of his neck.

“What happened sweetie?”

Trent sighed and he sank into the couch. He explained how he accidentally exposed you during the live interview and how you were probably spiralling from the pressure. His mum listened quietly. She didn’t know who you were, really. They never had the conversation until now.

“And this girl?” Diane began slowly. “Tell me about her.”

“Mum, she created your favorite perfume. But she sold it to a fragrance house so her name wouldn’t be attached to it.”

Diane laughed softly. “And you didn’t think to mention her all this time?”

“I dunno Mum. It wasn’t exactly planned, y’know?” Trent began to talk about you, feeling the tension in his chest ease. He told her about the fateful encounters and how you met by chance, again and again. He told her about how it felt like his own romance movie was being written right before his eyes; he felt like the universe was putting you in front of him for a reason. It scared him, but he knew. “I’m in love with her,” he admitted. “Never felt this way about anyone before. She’s special.” There was silence on the line for a moment and Trent wondered if he said too much.

“You sound very serious about her.”

“I am,” he said. “That’s why I've got no clue what to do. Any other girl, I can just buy something nice and apologize that way.. but she’s not like that. She doesn’t really need anything from me.” His mum was quiet for a little while before her voice softened. “Maybe she doesn’t need you to buy anything. Maybe she just wants to know you’re there. She sounds like a very sweet girl.”

“Yeah…I don’t want to lose her.”

“Then don’t.” Diane said simply. “Be the person she can lean on. She probably just needs your support and understanding.”

Trent stared at his phone as his mother’s words swirled around his mind. He needed to fix this, he needed to talk to you. He needed to do something. But every time his finger hovered over your name in his contacts, doubt washed over him. He was usually so confident. What if you weren’t ready to hear from him? What if you hated him now? Finally, he took a deep breath and rang you, his heart pounding every passing second as the phone rang.

No answer.

She hates me.

He frowned, trying to call again but it went to voicemail. “Hey, it’s me. I’m sorry about earlier, Y/N. I didn’t mean for it to happen like that. Just...just call me back please.” He slumped back on the couch, staring at the phone as if you were going to call him back immediately, but nothing came.

She’s probably fuming. She always answers when I call. Fuck.

He didn’t know you weren’t actually avoiding him. You were asleep, completely knackered from the day’s emotional rollercoaster. You were tucked away in one of the few places that was a safe space for you–Camille’s family’s house. If you could call it that. It wasn’t really a home, moreso an estate. It was an architectural masterpiece that made you feel like you were in a château. The estate had sprawling grounds and manicured lawns with fountains that glimmered in the moonlight. The home was white with glass windows that stretched floor to ceiling which offered a panoramic view of the garden. It was the kind of home that showed the world just how powerful and connected Camille’s family was. No one would bother you there. There were immaculately polished marble floors, chandeliers and plush furniture that was custom and handmade. You came here plenty of times, but every time you were there, the sheer scale of the home took your breath away. It was a world away from all the chaos you experienced earlier in the day. You could always flee here and just breathe. Camille and her family opened you with welcome arms every time, insisting it was your home too. Tonight, you were thankful for their support. You needed a space that would allow you to collapse and let go. Just to dream for a little while.

Downstairs, Camille was talking to her dad in his office. The room was lined with bookshelves and decorated with fine art which was a reflection of her family’s intellect. “I’m worried about her,” Camille said, glancing up at her dad. “She really needs help...”

“I have a friend who can help,” her dad said matter-of-factly, scrolling through his phone as he reviewed names. “Wouldn’t take much to get them on board.” Camille sighed as her eyes flickered to the grand bookshelves lining the office. “Yeah..but I don’t want to push her. I don’t think she’s ready yet. I just don’t want to scare her off by making decisions for her, y’know?” Her dad looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Not about making decisions for her. Y/N just needs support and you know that. She’ll come around, give her time.” Camille nodded but she felt helpless in the moment. She wanted to fix this for you and solve everything like she did in the past, but she knew you needed to feel like you were in control.

Upstairs, you were swaddled in a blanket where nothing was expected of you. Camille’s family always made you feel welcome. Her parents were completely different from yours, always loving, generous and supportive of everything she did—everything you did too.

You were still in uni when you and Camille met, and although you crossed paths before, you didn’t really know each other that well. She was popular and confident, her life always seemed to be perfectly together. You admired her from afar..until one day.

You found out a guy you were seeing wasn’t just seeing you, he was dating Camille too. The initial shock of the situation had you fuming and you didn’t know what to do. Should you confront him or just let it go? Camille didn’t seem like the kind of girl who would be in this type of situation at all. The stars in the sky had other plans, though. Camille was the one to approach you first, her voice calm but fierce. You didn’t know what to expect. Maybe an argument or confrontation? Instead, she laid it all out and was ready to take him down. She was a girl’s girl through and through.

“So, what are we gonna do about this blockheaded asshole?” she asked, eyes blazing.

Something clicked between the two of you from that point on. You didn’t turn against each other like the guy probably expected. You confronted him, standing side by side as you teared into him about his lies. He never saw the force of two determined women coming his way. There was no turning back after that. You thought Camille had it all together, but she had been hurt just like you. Both of you were more similar than you thought–sharing the same love for fragrances...and apparently men. You two were inseparable after that and became a dynamic duo.

You woke up in the middle of the night feeling sudden nausea wash over you. You groaned softly, clutching the edge of the bed. Your head wasn’t pounding anymore, but the remnants of the stress from earlier was still lodged inside your body. You sat up slowly, steadying your breath as the nausea subsided. You reached for your phone on the bed side table, but when you tapped the screen, it didn’t light up. Dead. Of course it’s dead, it’s been going off all day. You plugged it into the charger and laid back down, waiting for the phone to turn on. Exhaustion pulled you back in and you fell asleep just as your phone woke from the dead.

It was 3AM and Trent still couldn’t fall asleep. He laid on his back, staring at the ceiling, the weight of everything pressing down on him. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could think about was you—how you didn’t answer his calls, hadn’t responded to his messages. He told himself it wasn’t even a full day yet, but the silence was eating at him.

With a sigh, he grabbed his phone off the bedside table, unlocking it for what felt like the hundredth time. No new notifications. No calls. No texts. He opened his camera roll to scroll through the memories you two made over the last couple of months. He wanted to feel close to you again, even if it was just through a screen. The first video he tapped on was a clip from a night at his place. You were in the kitchen wearing one of his hoodies, dancing to an upbeat song from a playlist. You had no clue he was recording and when you finally caught him, you were laughing, telling him to stop. He didn’t stop recording though, he couldn’t get enough of seeing you so happy and carefree. He continued to swipe through the roll, stopping on one where you were standing outside, looking at a full moon like it was the most beautiful thing you ever saw in your life, you loved the moon and he took note of that. Another photo featured the two of you dressed up for date night, his hand was on your waist as you stood in front of the mirror to take the picture.

He kept scrolling until he landed on a cute video of you in front of your shop, talking about something new you were working on. Your face lit up as you explained everything. He loved seeing you so passionate about your career. You weren’t like anyone else and that’s what he loved about you. You didn’t need him to complete you, he needed you. And that’s what made the thought of possibly losing you feel more painful.

Trent’s thumb hesitated when he scrolled to the last video, this one was recent. His pulse quickened just at the thought of the video, he pressed play as his breath hitched. It began with you in frame, wearing a black lace set that barely covered you. The panties featured high waisted criss cross straps that hugged your hips and left very little to imagination. The matching bra framed you perfectly, emphasizing your boobs. You stood in front of the camera, waiting for his reaction as the phone shook slightly in his hand. “You like it?”

“Fuuuck yes. You’re making me hard,” he muttered off screen with a rough voice. He zoomed the camera in on you, catching you shifting under his gaze. You turned slowly to show off the back as the barely there fabric hugged your hips in all the right places. His hand was heard smacking against your ass, making you gasp as he groaned. “You’re killing me. You look so sexy right now.”

You grinned over your shoulder, pushing your ass up against him. “Enjoy it while you can..I don’t think it’ll be on for long.” The video was meant to just be his reaction to the lingerie, but the moment he saw you his restraint snapped. “Baby..turn around for me,” he said in a low, almost desperate voice. You obeyed him, teasing him as you turned to face him fully. His breath caught in his throat when the camera panned over you, capturing every inch of the masterpiece displayed in front of him. “I could look at you like this forever,” he added in a husky voice.

“Keep recording so we can look at it when we’re away from each other,” you said with a smirk. His voice on the video cracked, barely able to hold back his need for you. “Come here.” The camera shifted as he moved to another side of the room to set it down on a flat surface, capturing you in the perfect angle. You walked towards him, swaying your hips with your eyes locked onto his. The moment you touched him, his hands were pulling you in. He couldn’t wait to touch you.

“Please just wear this around me all the time,” he muttered. His lips grazed the side of your neck as you hummed, arching into him. “Mmm, you would love that, huh?” you teased, running your fingers over his hair as his lips trailed down your skin, kissing and biting. His hands moved to your ass, pressing you against the wall.

“Off. Now.” he commanded. You could see how hard he was through his grey joggers and it was making your mouth water. You fumbled to unclasp the bra. As soon as it dropped to the floor his mouth was on your chest, tracing his tongue around your nipple as he tugged at the thin lace on your panties. You two were fluent in each other’s bodies, completely synchronized in every touch, kiss, and movement.

“I need you inside me,” you whispered, feeling your body thrum with need. He wasted no time kicking off his clothes while the camera continued recording. You were on the bed now with your legs wrapped around his waist as he positioned his cock between your thighs. He entered you slowly, making you gasp as you adjusted to him. Trent buried his face in your neck, thrusting into you with slow and deliberate movements as your nails dug into his back.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin.

“Faster, baby. Please.” you gasped, trying to meet his thrusts because you needed more of him. His rhythm picked up as the video captured your bodies moving against each other, your loud moans and his groans. He gripped your hips, driving into you harder..deeper..until both of you were on the verge of cumming.

“Oohmygod, right there. I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, closing your eyes as you tried to focus on riding the wave threatening to crash against you. “Open your eyes, Y/N. Look at me when you cum. I wanna see you.” You opened your eyes, brows furrowed as he continued snapping into you. Your jaw dropped when the band finally snapped, your pussy pulsating and milking his cock. He came inside you, releasing white ropes just as you were coming down from your high. The video ended with both of you clinging to each other, trying to catch your breath. Trent stared back at the screen, breath uneven. The memory of that night left Trent aching for you all over again, but not for sex. He just wanted to feel your presence. He shifted in his bed scrolling through all your old texts, teasing voice notes, and random selfies. Each one was a reminder of what he was missing tonight. He had no idea what he was going to do to fix his mistake but he needed you back in his arms, period. He sighed heavily, staring up at the ceiling. He was supposed to be asleep hours ago but he couldn’t fall sleep when everything felt like it was in limbo.

Without thinking, he looked at his phone again with his fingers over your name. He knew you wouldn’t answer, you didn’t answer the entire night. But hearing your voice on the recorded greeting was comforting to him and he couldn’t stop himself. He needed to feel that tiny connection no matter how small it was. So he tapped the call button, bringing the phone to his ear, expecting it to go straight to voicemail like all the other calls. He closed his eyes waiting to hear the sound of your voice in a cadence that always made him smile.

C’mon. Just wanna hear you again.

But instead of a voicemail, there was a click, a pause, and then a soft, groggy voice. Your phone was now fully charged and you heard the ring, which woke you out of your slumber.

“Hello?”

His eyes snapped open, heart pounding out of his chest. You answered.

“Trent????”

i thought i was being so creative coming up with the name 'Love Notes' in french and apparently ariana grande has a new fragrance line named that LOL

sorry for the cliffhanger but it had to be done haha. if you made it this far, thank you for reading! lmk what you think

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