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shorthaltsjester · 18 hours ago

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endlessly thinking thoughts about cr characters, morality, and selfishness (likely place for me to be, given that my day job includes endlessly researching ethics and meaning of life) but in light of bell’s hells most recent illustration of their insularity and individualism, I’ve been really like. Trying to unpack why I find it particularly egregious in this party when obviously mighty nein were notoriously self-interested, especially at the beginning, and when vox machina had quite a few moments where their horses were far higher than they had any reason to be. And again, I really want to make it clear her that I don’t hold self-interest or selfishness to be some abhorrent and unforgivable thing, in fact I think its incredibly normal especially given the context of main characters in a story told through game mechanics that flourish on the interest of the individuals making the choices. I’ve written before about how one of the throughlines that I’ve seen in laura’s pcs (since I’m someone who particularly enjoys looking at the moral outlooks characters develop) is a common thread of morality that’s highly dependent on their own interests. And like, this is a positive throughline to me! Without getting into my own views on morality, it is particularly compelling to me for characters with isolated upbringing (which applies to vex, jester, and imogen, each in different ways) to develop a moral code informed by that isolation, and in vex we see her moral code is ‘anything goes if it protects those I hold dear’, in jester we see a moral code that doesn’t care about morality as much as it cares about the chance to care and be cared for, and in imogen we see a moral code developed in response to her very unique experience of hearing the darkest parts of people and judging them on those (which to be clear, i am not judging her for that fact, I think it makes extreme sense for someone who hears the thoughts the people have to be horrified by those things, but it does mean her moral system is almost completely backwards, where intention holds more weight than action, which perhaps makes sense of the popularity of defending all of her ideas and choices and the Right Ones by certain parts of the fandom that insist leftism is hidden in the dnd real play). And that’s all to say that, out of the cr parties we’ve seen, I don’t think any single member of bell’s hells is uniquely more or less selfish or more or less of an asshole than previous characters. And in fact, I tend to be quite fond of selfish characters, I have a well documented history of cherishing them well beyond the cr fandom. But the point is that my calling something or someone self-interested is not a value judgement in this context, it's a descriptive claim about the traits a character exhibited.

Imogen, who has insisted time and time again re: the values of the accord that she would not be swayed by the temptation of predathos because she recognizes the importance of this fight, only to turn around and pretty immediately open herself up to predathos to fulfil the most threatening part of ludinus’ plan is self-interested. I cannot conceive of any other way to describe her choices. And her being self-interested doesn’t mean she can’t also be altruistic at times, but I will be clear that I don’t think her risking killing herself as she attempts to bring down the god-eater that she released is particularly selfless. In my best faith interpretation I’d say she’s pretty middle of the road in that choice. But I bring all this up because a comparison I’ve been seeing is that bell’s hells aren’t as mean as the mighty nein or even vox machina in certain moments and that it doesn’t make sense for the fandom to view bell’s hells as likely to be villains when the same wasn’t true of the previous two campaigns, and I think I have to pretty emphatically disagree, and not because I don’t think there aren’t moments in both campaigns that feature extremely high levels of assholery and villainry from pcs – I mean, some of my favourite cr characters are percy and jester, both of whom i’d say are ‘good guys’ due to the pure luck of the found familys they fell in with and both of whom often suggested plans that were. Not okay. To say the least. But ignoring the difference between suggesting fucked up plans and walking your god-eater infused bestie back towards the troops sent to support you in keeping that entity contained, the other big difference I’ve noticed in my own introspection on how I react to bh vs mn and vm, as well as which things i cherish about previous campaigns that were really missing from c3 to what I think is the story and the character’s detriment (staying away from the shape of the narrative, just because others have made posts that put words together better about that than I can) is that while members of vm and mn remained self-interest to the end of their campaigns and have reasserted those habits in appearances since, the parties as entities working in exandria had both, to echo ashton’s apt suggestion to ludinus, grown up.

Like one moment I think of is beau and fjord’s convo in the nein hells episode, because beau is being her asshole self and fjord is being his ‘I care about My People and I’ll think about the rest later’ self (i say affectionately but certain parts of the fandom I recognize would view derogatorily) – clearly they’re not the kindest people as they discuss bell’s hells, but two notable things are (a) they still treat the hells with the respect and use their means to help them prepare for the battle coming, even when they hear the horrifying thought that the hells aren’t certain they’ll choose to save the gods, all the nein request is that they choose the kind option (b) they say none of their doubts to the hells themselves – likely because they have the empathy to realizes that its a high stress situation that won’t be made better by a reminding the hells how small and likely ineffectual in the universe they are – and their comments about cannon fodder are ones made in jest to each other. Even taking that in the worst faith interpretation, the jokes that beau and fjord make in a private conversation has absolutely zero influence on bh. This is quite different than bells hells, after like. as clearly betraying the accord they promised to assist (even if their intentions are ‘good’) as is possible, belittling the religious armies sent to support their endeavor to keep predathos sealed as they all feel the weight of an irrevocable change occurring in exandria, one bells hells has first account knowledge now that it IS incredibly willing to eat mortals, and laudna and ashton, the members of bells hells most often cited by certain fandom spaces as characters who have gone through so much and it only made them kind and strong, look into the faces of people facing literally existential threat and laugh and mock them. That is, mighty nein as individuals is comprised of some of the, perhaps, most asshole pcs, but The Mighty Nein as a party is committed to treating others the best they can, to leaving things better than they found them (a quote that I think is particularly exemplary of the dynamics of self-interest at play in the mighty nein, since it originated as a blatant illustration of molly’s notion of self-importance but developed to become a kind of commandment that the nein became committed to fulfilling). The opposite is true of bell’s hells, where orym and dorian at least both seem to have motivation beyond themselves, imogen’s changes but has shown she is capable of letting go of her ‘intention reigns’ requisitely individualistic perspective, and chetney plays up his selfishness but has shown himself to care quite a bit for people beyond their party but bell’s hells as an entity is uh, pretty self-interested.

To clarify some of my thoughts here in the spirit of the wicked renaissance happening rn, I’ve always felt that for good was an incredibly apt song for the mighty nein, because it really nails that feeling that perhaps they didn’t change each other as individuals to become better people on the grand scale, maybe they’ve just changed each other permanently, but they (and I would agree with this) view each other as having changed each other for the better (e.g., I don’t know if I could say whether jester is a morally better Individual at the end of the campaign, but I can say with certainty that she fulfils and makes moral choices in her work as a member of the mighty nein). And I don’t know if this can be said about bell’s hells – I think they have certainly influenced each other and changed how alone many of those characters felt, and that is not a slight on the story, it can be a great centre for a story to focus on how a relinquishment of the feeling that one is alone in the world can change them. But for the most part, that hasn’t been bh’s story, their story instead has been about validating their refusal to become anything beyond what they insist was out of their control. And not to get to annoying philosophy student about it but bell’s hells are maybe some of the most explicit examples of sartrian bad faith I’ve seen in fiction in a hot minute, because their insistence that they treat their wounds as incurable and entirely out of their hands has led to them limiting their own potential because many of them ignore their responsibility as people to make choices in their own lives. In contrast, at the end of the campaign, mighty nein are still assholes as we all like to refer to them as, but in the context of an apocalypse, I think I’d prefer the assholes like fjord – who is certainly being truthful when he says he doesn’t care about what harm comes to 200 people when jester is at risk but who also, as they traverse into aeor, is insistent that their group won’t be running away from whatever apocalyptic threat awaits them, even if that means dying in the fight – than I would an asshole like ashton – who promises to fight for the little guys but who then turns around and acts upon a philosophy that says the strongest will survive. When you look at the mighty nein, it is incredibly easy to see the fingerprints of change they’ve left upon one another, and even to see the boundaries they place on one another’s asocial behaviours through their presence in one another’s lives (more recently the group chastising jester’s fond words about ludinus is a good example, but others are yasha’s pressuring caleb and essek to move on from their wizard talks as they collect paper in aeor instead of venturing further toward the battle they have to fight, or fjord and jester’s frustrated conversation in the ukotoa reunion about how fjord made a stupid decision and he doesn’t regret but he feels dejected and jester checking him on the fact that they still need to figure out a solution). It takes some extrapolation to see how bells hells have changed each other in more than aesthetic ways, if they have at all. Because the catalyst for change is pressure to do so, and aside from moments where it was truly change or be left behind, bh doesn’t challenge each other unless forced to by morri’s trials or delilah’s interruption and on the very odd occasion an interesting game of rollies-spin-the-bottle.

And it’s interesting because the asshole behaviour of the mighty nein, like bell’s hells, stems from being left on the outskirts of society and the mistreatment that comes with that, so seemingly the change from being alone to being with others is one that actually insists upon being challenged to grow and change. I mean, just looking at the starting points of the characters, there’s an intriguing amount of stark similarities between their pasts; jester and fearne were both people loved dearly by the family they grew up with but who were loved within the confines of a gilded cage, ashton and beau both have an glaring self awareness that their anger at the world has a very particular source (their parents) but use that as justification rather than a means of self reflection, yasha and orym are trying to navigate a world in the wake of an incomprehensible loss and a sense of duty, fjord and imogen are both seeking out knowledge of their own powers and unknowingly retreading the paths of their missing and presumed dead parental figures. The idea that bell’s hells are uniquely mistreated by society in the history of cr player characters is, politely, laughable. Absolutely they’re mistreated, and I think it could be fair to say these characters are more defined by their isolation than others but I think that has more to do with the lack of downtime rp than it has to do with the context of their suffering.

What I have loved about the mighty nein is that in their realization that the bonds they forge with each other are undermining the truths most of them had taken to be true – that they were alone and without a place in the world – they are also forced to realize that no longer being alone and isolated comes with the weight of social responsibility. And this was born out of a willingness the mighty nein had to call each other out and that the players had to allow their characters to be wrong and get called on it. Because that’s the friction of living with other people on the small party scale and the large world scale – in the mighty nein’s ability to survive as a people who cared for each other even when they didn’t agree or when they made decisions that they couldn’t understand, they were constantly developing their ability to care for the very same world that left them alone. Because in campaign two, the world as a whole had the role that the gods have in campaign 3 – why should a party of nobodies, treated like shit by the world and the people in it go through the effort of saving it?

And the mighty nein answered, in their own imperfection and assholery, that nothing is ever just one thing – one of the things I cherish most about campaign 2 is its commitment to ambiguity, allowing the complexity of the world to go unsolved because there is no solution to the fact that life is immense and sometimes incoherent. I don’t think its a coincidence that I’ve seen some of the people lamenting the idiocy of fandom members like me who think that it actually isnt a leftist win to destroy the world in the hopes of spontaneous justice arising in c3 are the same people who criticised c2’s conclusion with the cerberus assembly for not being leftist (a word which for them means . the aesthetic image of a rebellion sparked and not the unending commitment to doing what you practically can to make life more just for those around you – whether they’re particularly kind to you or not) enough. The conclusion of c2 emphasizes that the choice to make the world a better place isn’t something that can be achieved in one single sweeping action that will wipe the boards clean – there is no murder of all the members of the cerberus assembly that would’ve solved the problems that caused the assembly’s power. There is no forcing of the god’s out of exandria that will deal with the actual issue undergirding both bh and their blorbo-moralized fans' criticism of the gods, which is that mortals are cursed with the burden of free will, and being mistreated by other mortals means constantly having to try and make sense of the fact that someone chose to do something cruel to you (and, sometimes, that you made a choice that allowed that cruelty to occur) – a burden made much heavier when the person who hurt you is your cult-indoctrinated mother, or your cult leader father, or the person in the mirror. The mighty nein take up this fight, and the complexities of their individual identities begin to heal in the light of a commitment in their relationship as friends and as a team to improve the world, even on the small scale. Bell’s hells remain gridlocked and stagnant and unwilling to change in an unspoken turf war of self-interest because they’ve insisted (influenced in part by the context of the campaign 3 narrative but, as others have aptly pointed out, that narrative was much more influenced by bh’s lack of curiosity regarding anything except their own minds) upon finding a solution to a problem they’ve decided is earth-shatteringly (quite literally, to the people of ruidus) unjust based on, aside from encounters where fellow mortals were the primary oppressors, their own testimony of the god’s not listening to them and the obvious villain’s parallel testimony. Something I’ve really been chewing on lately is caduceus words to fjord about his role as a paladin of the wildmother – that maybe it just means that someday, someone will pray for a miracle, and there fjord’ll be and the weight that has given that fjord’s bond to ukotoa came from his desperation not to die and his willingness to accept whatever help would be offered, that fjord could now be the person that reaches out to someone in need, and that the hand he offers won’t come with a curse. And I think that’s really the poignant difference between bh and mn for me, that for bh, their experiences of injustice, though did make them personally bitter, did not make them morally misanthropic.

Comparatively, Bell’s Hells chose to ensure that, because the gods never answered their prayers, they shouldn’t be permitted to answer anyone else’s. Is this an understandable position? Sure, for the walls of a preschool, not really for a group of characters that I will ever be in any way inclined to view as something close to heroes. While it’s true that there are parts of life that are beyond our control – somethings happen to us that we have no say in, and they cause injuries both physical and mental that we are left to heal without any rhyme or reason, it is still our responsibility to heal them. And if you choose not to, well, then you’ve chosen not to, and are responsible for the consequences and judgements that choice might amount to.

Anyway, sorry this is all over the place but TLDR: calling bell’s hells as a party self-interested is actually just descriptively correct – they can save members of the party made up of their close friends and still be self-interested – and while the individual members of bell’s hells actually aren’t all that uniquely self-interested in the history of cr pcs, the party is uniquely self-interested in how they’ve chosen to navigate the world an their responsibility to the people in it.

#cr spoilers #cr meta #this is some very bad writing on my part but this is like draft 10 of compiling my thoughts on this particular comparison #and i need to save my editing brain for thesis editing so. embracing the 'make bad art' but. write bad essays. this isn't an essay #its projectile word vomit but alas #critical role #critical role spoilers #bell's hells #the mighty nein #mighty nein #cr2 #cr3 #my post #long post #(truly i'm sorry for the length i have overwrite disease)

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sailorsoons · 2 days ago

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Hush (c.sc)

Pairing: Incubus!Choi Seungcheol x afab reader

Summary: You can’t seem to sleep, but the strange man in the bar that you can’t visiting promises he can help.

Word Count: 6,239

Genre: Supernatural

Type: Smut, PWP

Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

Warnings: Mentions of insomnia including side effects like exhaustion, dysfunction, derealization, feeling out of it/in weird headspaces, time is not supposed to feel linear in this and it’s supposed to feel kind of liminal-space in places, reader is often confused/thoughts are a little scattered and feels out of it because of proximity to an entity, there are creepy vibes in this, Seungcheol doesn’t always appear the same/mentions of feeling like in danger or on edge around him instinctually, explicit language, sexually explicit content including unprotected vaginal sex, fingering, a lot of spit and cum, nipple play, reference to subspace or an adjacent, choking, oral (f. and m. receiving) multiple orgasms, biting and scratching, I wouldn’t categorize this as explicit dom/sub dynamics but there are power dynamics in some places, mean Seungcheol in spots, like very light humiliation if you squint in one section, overall just…. Weird ass vibes and recurring scenes/reader not remembering things.

A/N: This was originally requested for my Haliween writing event by @daechwitatamic on my old blog. Hopefully you all enjoy sleep demon Seungcheol just as much the second time!

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Nothing feels real. Your eyes burn as you stare at the computer screen, the letters and the buttons on your email becoming blurry as they swim out of focus. The dull sounds of your office feel as though they’re several rooms over, faint hums heard through walls of plaster.

Pushing away from the desk, you head to the break room, in desperate need of coffee. You know drinking caffeine this late in the afternoon will only further exacerbate your insomnia, and yet you need it if you’re going to get through the next three hours at work.

You’ve hit the point in your endless nights of no sleep where everything feels off, like you’re experiencing things in the third person. You’re there but you don’t feel like it, navigating your day knowing that it’s you doing and saying things at work without really registering that you’re doing or saying those things.

Coffee hisses from the machine into your cup. You stare at it, vision going unfocused again as the smell wafts up to you. Time passes. You stand and stare.

Someone walks into the room, bringing you back to reality as you look over your shoulder and see your coworker come in to fill up their water bottle. They raise their brows at you as though to ask if you’re okay, and you grin, gesturing to the coffee like that’s some sort of answer.

Really, you’re not okay. You have ventured past the threshold of tired into something else entirely. Something that is lesser than, something base and nearly inhuman.

Derealization. It’s a word your doctor had used when you described what it was like for you after so many nights without sleep, the disconnected feeling to the world around you. Even as you walk to your desk, it doesn’t feel real. You logically know that it is, that you exist in a specific time and space.

And yet… you remain buoyed in that space, totally untethered from everything around you. Floating. Lost.

Back at your desk, the words on the computer screen blur again. Come into focus. You type and email. The keyboard makes sounds, but you don’t really register them.

At some point, the day ends.

A bright neon sign burns against the darkness of the alleyway. You blink rapidly, holding your hand in front of your eyes to block out some of the light. Looking around, you don’t see anyone else. The sound of the city is muted and far away, but you smell the burning of fuel and the smell of stagnant water under a dripping window air conditioning unit.

You don’t remember walking here. You lower your hand as your eyes adjust to the burning pink above the door. Looking down at your clothes, you’re at least relieved to discover you put on jeans and a t-shirt before going out on an adventure out on the town.

Police sirens wail in the distance. You pull your phone out of your back pocket, thankful you brought it.

“Fuck,” you swear, flashing the time. It’s 3:33 in the morning and you know immediately you’ve sleepwalked your way to this strange, unfamiliar alleyway.

It’s a vicious circle: go days without sleep feeling like you’re a step away from death, or take just enough sleep medication to knock you out but make you sleepwalk.

Shoving your phone in your pocket, you look back up at the neon sign, reading it for the first time. Hush. A shiver goes down your spine at the name, eyes flicking to the blue crescent moon attached to the pink cursive.

There’s a magnetism about the sign. Your eyes dropdown to the door under it, a nondescript metal entrance to what you think is a bar. There’s nothing to indicate that it is a bar, just a gut feeling. Your gut feeling is also whispering at you to go inside, to open the door and step into the cool space of Hush.

Licking your lips, you take one hesitant step forward. The tingling in your spine increases and you feel static in the air. Heart racing, you take another step. Then another. Before you realize it, you’re at the door with your hand on the knob, cool to the touch.

With a deep breath, you pull the door open and step inside.

It’s even darker inside than the alleyway. Gentle piano music plays somewhere in the room and you swivel left and right, trying to gain your bearings as your eyes adjust. When they do, you see a very small room with a single piano in the corner, two booths, a bar at the back, and three stools pulled up to its counter.

A single person sits at the bar. You hesitate in the entrance, drinking in the stranger. It appears to be a man in a dark purple suit, his broad shoulders hunched over where he leans against the wooden bar top. You can’t make out much else beyond the wide shape of his shoulders and narrow taper of his waist, but you can see the crimson hair that glows like flame underneath the dull, flickering light above his head.

“You gonna stand there all night?” His voice is soft, a gentle pur. He turns his head to the side, his profile shadowed. “I don’t bite.” You hear the smirk in his voice when he tacks on, “Not often, anyway.”

Carefully, you approach the bar. There doesn’t appear to be a bartender of any sort or anyone else in the bar, for that matter. You realize that there’s piano music but no pianist, but decide not to focus on it as you enter the man’s line of focus.

When he looks at you, the world stops. It’s like stepping into a bubble, everything else ceasing to exist. The hair on the back of your neck stands on end and you feel your pulse hammer in your throat as you stare at him, unable to take your eyes off him.

He’s beautiful but it’s not that. His eyes are dark, but there is something more there. Something swimming in the depth of the darkness that you cannot place, something ancient and curious and awake. You feel pinned under his gaze, eyes darting to drink in the rest of his features: soft, pouty lips the color of berries, sharp jawline, thick, angular brows.

Stunning. Dangerous. Alluring.

“Hi,” he says, mouth stretching into a grin. His teeth aren’t sharp, but you have the distinct feeling that they should be. “You’re a pretty thing.”

“Um, hi.”

“Can’t sleep?”

“How can you tell?”

His grin spreads, wicked and cutting. “I have a feeling about those things.” His dark eyes drop to the seat next to him. “Have a seat. Maybe I can help.”

Tentatively, you sit down next to him. “You can help me sleep?”

“What if I said I can?”

Sitting next to him is oppressive. His presence weighs down on you, a physical entity that you can’t see. Static buzzes in your mind and your thoughts feel a little sticky, like just being close to him disrupts your frequency.

He smells like jasmine, immediately soothing. You feel your eyes grow heavy as you blink a few times, settling on the stool as you angle yourself toward him.

You’d misjudged his size when you walked in. He’d seemed broad when you first walked in, but you don’t think you fully understood the width of him. The weight of him. Or maybe it just feels that way when you look at him, your perception of him flickering like a bad TV signal.

“Tell me about your sleep problems.”

You shrug. “They’re like any other sleep problems.”

“Not all sleep problems are the same, Pretty.”

“I suppose that’s true. I don’t really know what causes them. I just… can’t fall asleep and then I start getting worried I won’t sleep, so it makes it worse. I want to sleep so bad but it’s like… wanting to sleep only makes it avoid me more.”

“Mmm. Sleep is a fickle thing, isn’t it?”

“My doctors give me meds but the normal dose doesn’t work and the stronger dose… makes me walk around.”

He pouts. “You poor, sweet thing.”

Something about his sympathy makes you flush. You sulk, looking down at the countertop as you pick absently at the peeling varnish on the wood. “I know,” you murmur. “I just want to be normal.”

“I can help. If you want it.”

You glance at him. His eyes are dancing dangerously. Half of you screams yes while the other screams run. You’re only vaguely aware that you’re in a bar alone with a strange man who knows you’re sleep deprived. No one would help you if you screamed. You don’t know where you would run.

His dark eyes seem to read your thoughts and he laughs, shaking his head as he turns to pick up his drink from the bar. “I’m not that sort of creature.”

“How would you help me sleep?”

“Are you accepting my help?”

His question hangs in the air between the two of you. The piano music has stopped, but you don’t remember when it did. Overhead, the light still flickers. On. Off. On. Off. Onoffonoffonoff-

“You’re under no obligation to accept.” His voice is kind. Warm. Soft like your blankets, cozy like your bed. “You’re always free to make your own decision.”

“I want help,” you agree slowly. “I really do.”

His red mouth curves into a smile and again, you’re struck by the thought that his teeth should be sharp. “Good. I’ll help you, Pretty.”

“What’s your name?”

“You can call me Seungcheol.” You give him your name and he tilts his head, drinking you in. “I know.”

“How are you going to help me sleep?”

Seungcheol finishes his drink. You watch him swallow thickly, suddenly fascinated with the way his throat bobs as he does. The smell of jasmine is overwhelming as he leans in, stopping an inch away from you.

The static increases. You feel your blood buzz pleasantly.

“Close your eyes for me,” Seungcheol murmurs, looking at you through silky lashes. “I promise everything will be okay.”

For a moment, you stare at him, the air charged. He doesn’t hurry you along, content to study your face with that same uncanny darkness swimming in his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, you do what Seungcheol says, and you close your eyes.

Sunlight wakes you up. You roll over in your bed, squinting up at the window. Your blackout curtains are open, letting the morning beam in on where you’re tangled in your comforter and sheets.

Sighing heavily, you close your eyes again, content to lay in the warm sun. Just as you start to drift to sleep again, you recall a pair of dark eyes and fiery hair. You jolt upright, heart hammering as you remember the exchange.

Snatching your phone from your nightstand, you open your walking app to look at where the hell you went last night, but there’s nothing there. Frowning, you pull the sheets off your body. You’re in pajamas and fuzzy socks that you don’t remember putting on.

Hauling yourself out of bed, you lean halfway into the laundry basket to claw through your clothing. None of the things you wore last night are there, so you go to your closet to wrench the doors open and search.

The shirt from last night and the exact pair of jeans are hanging, completely unworn. Your frown deepens as your confusion rises. Turning away from the closet, you open your phone again and try to get any sort of sense of where you went last night, but there’s no text threads. No signs you used public transportation. Nothing in any of your tracking apps that indicate you left at all.

“Was it a fucking dream?” you mutter to yourself, perplexed.

Sitting down on your bed, you try to look up Hush on the internet. You can find nothing in your city that indicates a bar or establishment like the one you discovered Seungcheol in. You even try social media to look him up - Reddit, neighborhood pages, anything to try and find the stranger from last night.

It seems Hush and Seungcheol don’t exist.

And yet… you don’t remember going to sleep last night after he agreed to help you. And you feel rested today.

Puzzled and a little freaked out, you give up your search. A dream is a dream, and you’re content that you finally feel a little less exhausted and a little more awake. You’ll take the win, getting up to start your day with a little bit of pep in your step.

By midday, you’ve mostly forgotten about the bar and the man in it, only remembering those dark eyes and that red hair.

Heat creeps up your spine. You nuzzle against the warmth behind you, the smell of jasmine coaxing you deeper into the embrace. You feel the vibration of laughter against your back, your nerves tingling as you feel feather-light fingers brush up your thighs.

“Tired?”

Immediately you know it’s Seungcheol’s deep voice, that same velvet purr whispered right in your ear. You shake your head no, suddenly not wanting to sleep at all. You press into him further, feeling the way his arms tighten around you as he chuckles, mouth pressing chastely against the spot under your ear.

“Liar,” he teases.

You pout. It might be true, but he could have the decency to pretend it’s not. You open your eyes and look up at him. His hair is like spilled blood in the dark of your room. The curtains are closed, blocking out all light from the moon and street, but your salt lamp still burns in the corner.

Seungcheol looks like the devil in the low, orange light. He’s in a black t-shirt, which is somehow more deadly than the fine cut suit. Your stomach flutters and you squeeze your thighs shut when you realize his hands are brushing up and down your thighs, touch slow.

“Thought you were a dream,” you mumble, words a little thick. “Thought you weren’t real.”

“Dreams can’t be real?” That makes you frown and he laughs, jostling you against his chest. His hands squeeze your thighs and you let out a breathy sound as he nudges you with his nose. “You don’t know anything about dreams, Pretty. Can I show you?”

More than anything you want him to show you. Suddenly your desire for him outweighs any sort of sleepiness, your nerves sparking and coming to life as you nod helplessly against his chest, trying to lean as close as possible.

“Needy,” he chides. He presses a wet kiss to your jawline and you preen, your head falling back against his shoulder. “I’ll go easy so you remember this time, alright?”

“Cheol.”

The nickname sounds familiar. Intimate. Like you’ve said it before - something tells you that you have said it before. You don’t remember where or when, but it’s with familiarity that you moan the nickname again as he nips at your neck, one hand drifting between your legs to pry them open.

He murmurs praise against your ear when your legs drift apart, spreading to accommodate his seeking touch. You’re wearing shorts but it feels entirely too hot under the blankets pooled around your waist. You kick at them and whine, managing to get them down to your knees before he huffs and presses forward, temporarily bending you in half to toss them.

When he settles back against your headboard, you follow him, turning your head to press your mouth to the corner of his. His lips twitch in a smirk, shifting to catch your mouth fully with his.

Seungcheol kisses you like he knows how you like to be kissed - devouring, consuming, hungry. His tongue brushes against yours as he drinks you in as his hand presses between your leagues, applying pressure to your clothed cunt.

You whine into the kiss and he grins against your mouth. A line of spit connects your lips when you pull away panting, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes. His fingers circle your clit gently and your hips buck in his hold against the stimulation.

“Not enough,” you whisper. You grip his wrist with one hand, the other gripping the sheets to bunch them in your fist. “Cheol, please.”

“Hush,” he scolds, biting your jaw. His free hand comes up to your neck, gripping you under your jaw to angle your mouth back to his. “Kiss me.”

You melt in Seungcheol’s grip. His tongue tastes sweet, his grip on you making you dizzy. Your thighs squeeze around his wrist as he works you up, his touch teasing and not enough through layers of fabric.

He knows it’s not enough, content to string you along until you’re writhing against him, back shifting against his chest as you squirm. His kisses drift from your mouth to your jaw, open-mouthed and spit-slicked as his tongue darts out to taste your skin while he goes.

Seungheol’s grip on your chin slides down toward the base of your neck, his fingers pressed tight against your pulse. You can feel your heartbeat slamming in his grasp as he bends your head away from him, lips attaching to the softness of your throat.

His name escapes your lips in a whisper. He hums a pleased sound, tongue dragging up your neck to your ear where he nibbles. “So good for me,” he whispers. “I’ll reward you.”

You follow with an urgent nod, pleased when his hand slides down the waistband of your shorts and underwear. When his fingers brush against the flushed, sticky folds of your cunt, you keen loudly, unable to keep it together.

“So needy.” You can’t tell if it’s an insult or not the way he growls the word against your ear, grip on your throat tightening. “Need my help that bad, huh?”

“Yes, god.”

“I am not god,” he grinds out, voice dark. For a second, the illusion shatters and you glance up at him. His eyes are endless, an ancient thing looking back at you. You freeze in his hold, a prey caught in a trap. Then he softens, pressing a kiss to your brow. “Tell me what you need, Pretty.”

“Hands. Need your hands.”

A bolt of pleasure goes through you when Seungcheol’s middle finger circles your clit. Your nails dig into his wrist, leaving little crescent moons behind. His ministrations are leisurely, giving you what you want but not as fast as you want it.

That’s Seungcheol’s game. He’ll give you what you want, only when he feels like it. You feel a sense of deja vu, realizing that you’ve been here before. Snatches of memories flash through your mind. They pass through your grip like sand, none of them firm enough to grab onto.

“Missed you,” you mumble. “Can’t sleep without you.”

“Ah, there it is.”

Seungcheol is pleased with your recollection. You can tell when he relents his teasing touches, fingers drifting down to press a single digit into your heat. Your stomach flips when he does, relief sweeping through you as he shallowly fucks you with a single finger.

It’s not enough but it’s better. You shiver in his hold, going a little slack in his arms, hips twitching. He’s content to have you like this, working your cunt slowly, watching your reactions as your breathing catches and restarts.

“Feel good?”

“So good.” You can barely get the reply out, words faint. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, Pretty.”

His kiss is soft against your cheekbone, at odds with the grip he still has on your throat. You feel his hand like a comforting weight, loving the feel of it resting against your pulse. He doesn’t squeeze or choke you, content just to hold you against him.

Seungcheol pulls his fingers out, the wet squelch obscene. “Take this shit off for me,” he tells you, pulling at your shorts.

His heavy hand rests on your collarbone as your hands shoot to your shorts. Hooking your thumbs in them, you shimmy down, lifting your hips with his help to kick them down your thighs and legs to the floor.

Cool air hits your heat as you settle against his chest again. He nestles against your neck, fingers resuming the task of peeling you apart as he sinks his pointer and ring finger into you. You clench around him, loving the stretch and the feeling of his fingers pressing against your g-spot as he slowly strokes you, breath hot against your ear.

Being unable to remember your previous encounter with him feels cruel. Seungcheol knows exactly how to work you toward your high. The slick sound of his fingers between your legs accompanied with his lips pressed against your neck drives you insane.

Unable to keep still, your hips come up off the bed to meet his hand. The hand not fucking you to insanity slides under your shirt. Heat trails his touch. He traces the curve of your breast and your breath stutters, catching in your throat. His nails scrape against sensitive skin, moving higher until he drags his touch over your nipple.

The heel of Seungcheol’s hand presses firmly into your clit. You mewl, thrashing against him, closer and closer to your peak. His strokes turn harsh, finger-fucking you at a brutal pace while his other hand tweaks your nipple, the pleasure-sting making you quake.

“Come on,” he urges, voice deep. Sharp teeth scrape against your throat. “Come for me, Pretty.”

Everything turns to static as you clench around his fingers. You squeeze so tight he can barely continue stroking you through your peak. There’s a high-pitched ring in your ears as you pant through it, vaguely aware that Seungcheol is muttering something against your ear that you don’t understand.

As your orgasm fades, so do you. The world becomes soft at the edges. You feel Seungcheol’s heartbeat against your back and smell jasmine, but you slowly drift away from him, barely able to catch his growl of remember me next time before you’re gone.

Cold granite countertop digs into your knees. You barely register the pain, one hand pressed flat to the counter, the other reaching behind you to tangle in Seungcheol’s hair. Your hot breath skates across the surface, the cool stone not enough to combat the heat of your skin.

Seungcheol’s face is pressed as far as he can go into your cunt, the flat of his tongue dragging from top to bottom. You’re nearly catatonic, eyes rolling behind your eyelids as he fucks you with his tongue.

He grunts when your fingers tighten in his hair, holding him close as he sucks harshly at you. He’s loud as he eats you out, his hunger something more demonic and fiendish than you’re used to. You don’t care, pressing back into him as he mouths at you.

His hands firmly pry you open, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. You can feel the bruising way he holds you, uncaring as he works you toward another high, so desperate for it that you’re begging.

Begging for what, you don’t know. None of the words that fall from your mouth really make sense. You’re a rambling disaster under the mastery of his mouth, and as you tiptoe the line of your high, it feels like you’ll never unscramble your thoughts again.

You come again, feeling the way you flood his mouth. He doesn’t care, growling low in his throat as his mouth becomes more insistent, fingers pressing into you even harder. Something takes over him in that moment, his grip on you so fierce that you think you might break.

But you don’t. You never do.

“Pretty,” Seungcheol murmurs, cocking his head to the side. Your mouth aches where it’s stretched harshly around his cock, spit leaking from the side of your lips. His thumb brushes across the spilled fluid, grinning as he leisurely pops it into his mouth and sucks. “Such a pretty thing, mouth full of cock.”

You hum around him eagerly, shifting back and forth on your knees. He’s got you on the floor of your bedroom in front of your bed, hands linked obediently behind your back while he stands in front of you. His stomach ripples as he flexes his hips forward, driving himself deeper into your mouth.

Your throat seizes around him again and you feel yourself gag. He pouts and pulls back, letting you gasp for breath. Your mouth is a mess of saliva and cum, wet and sore and battered. You don’t care, looking up at him with watery eyes and sticky lips.

“So important to me,” he whispers, nodding as though to assure you. Your stomach flips and you shuffle toward him eagerly, mouth open. “So perfect for me.”

Instead of using words, you stick your tongue out, eager. Seungcheol grins and the room darkens. There is a buzz in the back of your mind that you can’t place, ignoring the feeling in favor of watching him slowly slide back in, letting your tongue scrape the bottom of his shaft.

Seungcheol sighs, tilting his head back as he sets a slow pace, using your mouth as he pleases. He’s beautiful like this, all tan skin, heaving chest, sweat sliding down his neck, red hair damp. His eyes are closed but his mouth is open, cherry lips parted sweetly to show his sharp little fangs as he pants.

So pretty, you think. Even with teeth sharper than they should be.

You’re standing in front of a bar named Hush. The pink neon burns bright against the gritty night, hurting your eyes. Turning around in a circle, you notice there’s no one else in the alleyway. There’s a certain charge to the air, a hum that you can’t place, but grows stronger when you turn to face the bar again.

A single door sits under the sign, closed and waiting to be opened. Chewing your bottom lip, you stride toward the door, unsure what’s waiting for you on the other side.

With a hard yank, you pull the door open and step into the darkness of the room beyond. It takes a second for your eyes to adjust to the single, flickering light over the bar, but once they do, you see it’s a tiny room. A single piano sits in the corner near two booths, and there’s only one bar top in the back, a few stools in front of it.

A single man sits at the bar but he’s facing you, leaning back on his elbows as he drinks you in. He’s in a purple suit that would look ridiculous on anyone else, and his red hair is bright enough to light the night like a flame.

He cocks his head to the side, a wicked smirk on his lips. “Hi,” he greets. “Can’t sleep?”

“How can you tell?”

“I’m familiar with these things.”

He looks like a devil. You can’t place your finger on what exactly about his face makes you think so. His eyes are dark as the depths of the ocean and when he smiles, you swear his teeth are sharp. “Need some help?”

You do need help sleeping. The doctors can’t help you. Therapy doesn’t help you. Something tells you maybe this stranger can help you.

“Please.”

“It would be my pleasure, Pretty.”

“Seungcheol,” you gasp, hand flying to his wrist to grip him. “Fuck, holy shit.”

Fuck is absolutely right. His hand tightens around your throat, placed just right to make it harder for you to breathe. Your thoughts swim as he fucks into you, his sweaty chest sliding against your back as his strokes grow harsher.

Your knees slide on the bed under the strength of his thrusts. He growls at you to keep up and you whimper, flexing your thighs to remain upright as he drives his cock into you at a pace that sends you hurtling toward your peak.

“So fucking difficult,” he grunts in your ear. His teeth nip your ear lobe and you whine, intoxicated by the smell of jasmine and the tightening knot in your stomach. “You’re always so difficult.”

You don’t know what he means by that, but you don’t think it’s the first time you’ve heard something like that from him. Your thoughts turn to liquid you come around him though, feeling the way you grip his cock like a vice, seizing in his hold.

Everything turns to nothing. You can’t hear, see or feel anything but static. Can’t breathe. Can’t do anything but squeeze and squeeze and squeeze.

And then you're gasping for air, lungs burning as you gulp it down. Falling forward, you crash into the sheets and into complete darkness.

“Why do you come and go so often?”

Seungcheol lifts his head from the bed to turn and look at you. He’s still naked and covered in a sheen of sweat, crimson hair clinging to his forehead. He’s on his stomach laying opposite of you, his head by your feet.

Something sparks in his eyes at your question, his heavy brows pulling together, cherry lips downturning. “I only come as often as you let me.”

“What do you mean?”

His face twitches in what you think might be annoyance. “You have a complicated relationship with me.”

“We have a relationship?”

He snorts and turns away from you, resting his chin on his arms as he settles back down, closing his eyes. He reminds you of a cat - a particularly dangerous cat, you think. “I suppose. Most people couldn’t say they have a relationship with me, and yet I keep letting you invite me back.”

“Invite you?”

“Hush. Stop asking questions.”

“But I don’t… understand.”

“Good,” he quips. “Because every time you do, you send me away only to invite me back in.”

“Come on,” Seungcheol teases. “You wanted it, so do the work.”

Your thighs ache. A pitiful sound leaves you as you nod, putting your hands on Seungcheol’s shoulders as you lift your hips, legs shaking. You’re exhausted and burned out, but the ache you need filled as you slowly slide up his cock drives you to keep going.

Dropping back down in his lap, you feel sparks. Your movements are slow. Seungcheol’s hands are tucked behind his head where he leans back on your pillows, fathomless eyes watching you as you ride him, a little uncoordinated and weak from the exertion he’s put you through all evening.

“Cheol, my thighs,” you protest, instead trying to grind into him. He raises a brow and you pout. “Please.”

“No. Come on, Pretty, you can do it. You can fuck yourself on my cock and make yourself come. Come on.”

“Cheol.”

“No. Do it yourself.”

Gritting your teeth, you let your annoyance fuel you. Anger burns right alongside pleasure as you find the strength to do exactly as he tells you. Leveraging your hold on his shoulders, you continue to spear yourself on him at a steady pace and slowly, your anger is replaced with bliss.

Seungcheol feels incredible. He’s hard to take, stretching you to the max and at this position, he’s so deep that you swear you can feel him in your stomach. You keep going, nails biting into his skin and drawing blood but you don’t care.

Fire burns in his eyes as he watches you. You stare right back, seething at the way he’s making you do it yourself, a little bit of humiliation stinging the edges of your pride. You can tell he thrives on this, satisfied that what you want outweighs any sort of desire to be stubborn.

Somehow, he always wins like this. Always manages to get you to do what he wants. He’s sneaky like that, knowing just what button to press to get you where he wants you.

Sometimes you feel like you’re a puppet whose strings are connected to his fingertips.

Either way, you manage to drive yourself to an orgasm, shuddering around him as you seat yourself fully in his lap, throbbing around him. He lets out a long groan, eyes fluttering shut as he struggles to keep his composure.

Leaning back against his knees, you catch your breath. He’s still painfully hard inside of you, and when his eyes open, you see his hunger isn’t sated. Your heart lips when he surges forward, fast as an adder. His mouth crashes into yours hungrily and you let him have you, eager at the flutter in your stomach as he shifts, altering the angle.

“I’m not done,” he mutters, kisses turning into sharp bites. “So hush while I take what’s mine.”

Something wakes you up from sleep. It’s too dark in your room to see, but your heart is hammering and your hands are quivering. Leaning toward your nightstand, you search for your phone. All you feel is cool wood, no device anywhere.

The dark is oppressive. You don’t remember your room being this dark, the blackout curtains serving as a good device to keep out the city and streetlights, but never so much that you feel swallowed whole. Lost. Devoured.

A tingle buzzes at the back of your neck. You freeze in bed, looking into the never ending darkness. Silence roars in your ears, the outside world completely removed. You can’t even hear your own pulse or breath, the quiet so heavy that panic starts to rise in your throat.

You can’t see but you know you’re not alone - can feel the solid press of something else in the room.

Too afraid to make noise, you resume the search for your phone, fingers moving slowly across the top of your night stand. You can’t find it.

Something presses into the mattress at the end of your bed. You feel the dip under its weight but can’t hear the creek of springs. You give up the search for your phone, snatching your hand to your chest and squeezing your eyes shut.

It’s a dream, you tell yourself. It’s a dream it’s a dream it’s a dream it’s-

The thing in your room moves closer. A scream works its way up your throat where it gets stuck, lodged and unmoving. You squeeze your eyes shut harder, fireworks of color exploding behind your eyelids as you do.

“I know you’re awake, Pretty.” The voice is so low you can barely make out the words. They scrape against you like claws. “You can’t keep doing this,” it says, almost a sigh in its voice. “You know what this is. What I am.”

“Go away,” you whisper, voice weak. “Leave me alone.”

“Don’t do this again.”

“Go away, Seungcheol.”

There’s a low growl that you can feel as it vibrates the air. “As you wish.”

The neon sign above the door says Hush. It burns bright and pink against the night sky. You look around, unsure how you got here. Sighing, you pull out your phone to check the time. It’s 3:33 in the morning, which means you’re probably a victim of your sleep walking again.

Sliding your phone back into your pocket, you look up at the sign again. There’s a little blue moon to accompany the pink cursive neon, and though you don’t think you’ve ever seen this bar before, there's a magnetism about it that draws you in.

Curious, you walk up to the door and go in. The lights are dim and you have trouble seeing at first, but you can make out that there’s a piano in the corner, two booths and a small bar with some stools. A man sits at the bar, his back turned to you.

“We’re closed,” he grumbles without turning to look at you. You frown, cocking your head as you drink him in.

The purple suit he wears is an odd choice. His hair is the color of blood, slicked back and a surprisingly nice contrast to the bright color of his suit. A single light flickers above him, painting him in a gold hue.

“What is this place?” you ask, ignoring the fact that it’s closed.

He doesn’t answer for a second. You think he’s going to ignore you, but finally he says, “Do you have trouble sleeping?”

You’re surprised by the question. “Yes, actually.”

“I can help.”

“Really?” You step further into the bar, watching as he turns to look at you over his shoulder. He is painfully pretty, the kind of beauty that reminds you of old paintings of Lucifer. “How?”

“Are you accepting my help?”

Without hesitation you answer, “Yes.”

His cherry red lips twitch and he shakes his head. Picking up his drink, he polishes it off before standing to turn you fully. The weight of his presence presses down on you like an invisible blanket, weighing you down.

“Of course you do.” He strides toward you and though your instincts tell you to run, something else tells you to stay. He looks down at you with a pair of eyes that threaten to swallow you whole if you let them. His lashes are silky and long, a delicate balance to his heavy gaze. “You always need me, right, Pretty?”

You nod, a word - a name - buzzing on your tongue as he looms over you. “Please,” you whisper, thoughts a little cottony, a little dizzy. “Seungcheol.”

He grins, revealing sharp teeth. “Hush,” he murmurs. “You’re mine.”

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aliceinborderlandsquidgame · 1 day ago

Text

Ignored | Salesman x Wife!Reader

Summary: He knows his work can take much of his time. But the worse punishment its being ignored by you.

Warnings: Possessive!Salesman - Angry!Salesman - Violent!Salesman - Sad!Salesman - Manipulation - Toxic!Relationship - Suggestive - Grammar mistakes -

It was true. He had started to leave earlier and came home late. He was tensed, tired and angry. Everytime he had to face these excuse of humans made his blood boild.

But he was good, too good at it. And the money he got from it was a big amount. Enough to give you, his dear wife the life you have always deserve.

Splendind nights out, visists to the most precious places, fashion clothes and precious little details (expensive ones). He loved to pampper you in them. He could not help himself but pull his card out the moment he saw you looking at something. It was a reflex, even when you tell him that its not necesary he still insists.

If you want a private Island then he would do his job three times or even more times better.

You ask and he does. Thats how it works. The only thing he expects from you its to be at home when he comes. To get him with a delicious dinner, your soft voice making the stress go away. You would make him lay down on your lap as you play with his hair and tell him sweet nothings. Its almost unfair how much of a effect you have on him.

However, this past days these things have not been happening. Did food wait for him when he returned ? Yes. Where you there with open arms to ease him ? No.

It had started slow, you giving him simple responses when he talked to you. Mornings when you would say you were too tired leaving him to not really enjoy the shower missing your body against his. Not responding his messages or calls (He almost killed the next person he had to recruit when your voice email sounded back).

And at home you would give him the cold shoulder. Your attention on a book (that he got you and now he wants to burn) or your phone (that he hacks and sees what you are doing).

Honestly he is started to get tired of this. He has lots of patience with you. He loves you, in a insane way. But he cant help but feel...bad. The feeling makes him want to vomit because how the object of his love and adoration, the one he crafted and made a live with just...ignores him?

Yes he knows he can be difficult at times. He tries his best so you only see his good part. But this is ridiculous, no one would dare to disrespect him like that.

There is a centrain charm on your way of going against him. But he does not like it. He prefers the doting wife. The one who showers with love and affection. Not...this.

"We need to talk" Are his words on friday night after a long day recruiting and a cold and lonely shower.

He is quiet angry.

"Im reading" You said back not bothering to look up from your book.

Alright, now he is pissed.

He takes some steps towards you, his taller frame casting a shadow over you as he takes the book from you rather harshly.

"We need to talk, and we will" He says in a cold tone, making sure to mark the page you were reading before taking your arm and pulling you towards the bedroom.

The light blue walls and the big bed welcomes you as he throws you on the bed. Under other circunstances this would mean a good time, but with the look he is giving you right now, its not. Its a look you have never seen before, a look that sends shivers down your spine as he closes the door with a click and starts to walk around. Arms crossed as he fakes to think.

"What?" You ask seeing him go to the wardrobe and for the safebox pulling out a smaller box. He pulled out a syringe and a bottle with some transparent liquid.

"Dear...you are scaring me"

"Scaring you?" He asked with a smile that did not reach his eyes. "My Love, you should never be scared of me. I just want to talk" He did answer once more getting closer to her syringe in hand.

"Then for what is that-"

"Because I need to understand Love. I need to understand whats going on with you" He says anger in his tone. "You have been ignoring me for the past few weeks. Me, the Man of your life. Who gives your the world and does everytning so you dont have to lift a single finger"

One hand traces your face doing down to your neck giving it a grip.

"I work so hard, for you. I just ask for you attention. But you cant even give me that" He says pushing you down on the bed the syringe now close to your neck.

"Is there someone else ? Have you lost your love for me ? Im not enough now ?" He ask the syringe inches from your skin.

"N-no, please let me explain" You said tears falling

He does not move but gives a small nod so you can talk

"I...I was stupid. I started to feel like your work was more important. You have always be with me. You make time for me and we pass our days together. And then you...you start to leave earlier and be home late. You...you look different every time you get back. I thought..that if I did not give you my attention you would stop. But I never saw how much I was hurting you"

He does not move for a few seconds letting the words sink in. Then he leaves the syringe on the nightstand. He cleans off your tears kissing them.

"Oh my dear sweet wife. How could you be so dumb? My work would never be more important than you" He makes you sit on his lap as he moves you like a small creature.

"I have been under so much stress...and so much work. Im sorry I should have tell you. Last thing i wanted was to get ignored by you and hurt you. Not that I would ever do it"

Well, if you were seeing another men or women then yes. He would hurt you so much. You would be calling his name and only his. Never daring to think on going behind his back.

Much like right now. He is sure you would never ever again ignore him. Not after that scared he gave you. He still feels you trembling in his arms and its almost arousing to him.

Fear. Such a primal feeling. He loved being the one behind it. The face that was associated with the word.

"Shh my love. Its ok, we are ok. You wont ignore me again and now you know there is nothing more important than you" He whispers biting your ear.

"That syringe..."

He laughts, a well faked one.

"Do you really think I would ever hurt you my Love?" Yes, yes he would. If it did mean you staying with him and obeying him. "That was a bad joke on my side. My apologizes" He gives you a big kiss on your cheeck. "Lets order some food, we can watch a movie too and call it a night"

He sees you nod but before you can move he holds you in place one finger pointing at his lips.

You kiss him, not giving him much pressure but he is not letting you go that easy. He forces his tongue inside your mouth, tangles it with yours, his hips moves making you feel him growing hard under you. One hand presses your neck guiding your face as he leaves your lips and trails kisses down your neck and collarbone.

"Im almost temped to dich food and just have you" His tone is dark, possessive as he kisses you once more. "But I know you must be starving so we can save that for later"

You wont ever know that syringe did have a powerfull sleep drug...to make you unable to escape him if that was your plan.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

How He feels. VS. How He acts.

#squid game imagines #squid game x y/n #suicide squad imagine #squid game x reader #squid game x you #salesman x reader #recruiter x reader

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echo-riot · 3 days ago

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✞⛧ Ambessa x Gold digger reader ✞⛧ @loflesbians

✞⛧ Ambessa is no fool; she recognizes a gold digger when she sees one. Instead of being offended, she finds it entertaining. “You want to live off my wealth? At least you’re honest,” she says with a smirk.

✞⛧ The dynamic becomes a game for her. She knows you’re after her riches, but she plays along because your charm amuses her. “I can afford your expensive tastes,” she’ll say, leaning in close. “But can you keep up with me?”

✞⛧ Ambessa spoils you unapologetically—jewelry, fine clothing, luxury vacations. Money is a trivial thing to her, and she delights in watching your eyes light up with every extravagant gift.

✞⛧ She enjoys indulging you in a lavish lifestyle, but there’s always an unspoken agreement: you owe her respect and loyalty in return.

✞⛧ If your demands get too bold, Ambessa quickly reminds you who holds the power. “You’re enjoying my wealth,” she’ll say, her voice calm but commanding, “but don’t mistake my generosity for weakness.”

✞⛧ Watching you flaunt her gifts in public is a source of pride for her. Seeing the envy in others’ eyes when they see you at her side only feeds her ego.

✞⛧ Despite your gold-digging tendencies, Ambessa finds your boldness captivating. She admires the way you carry yourself, unapologetic and fearless.

✞⛧ Occasionally, she tests your limits, withholding luxuries just to see how you’ll react. Your pouts or manipulations amuse her. “So predictable,” she teases with a knowing smirk.

✞⛧ Ambessa loves the power dynamic. She thrives on knowing you rely on her, and the way you seek her approval only fuels her dominance.

✞⛧ You’re often left wondering who’s really in control. Ambessa may shower you with riches, but she always keeps you in check.

✞⛧ Her love language is a mix of acts of service and gifts, but she makes it clear that her affection isn’t something money can buy.

✞⛧ If anyone dares to insult you for your gold-digging reputation, Ambessa shuts them down with icy precision. “They’re mine,” she states, leaving no room for argument.

✞⛧ Over time, she begins to see more of who you are beneath the surface. Your wit and charm go beyond material desires, and it intrigues her.

✞⛧ When you try to downplay your intentions, Ambessa chuckles knowingly. “Don’t lie to me,” she says with a low, amused voice. “I didn’t choose you for your innocence.”

✞⛧ Sometimes, she pretends to cut you off, just to see your reaction. “What would you do without me?” she asks, her tone playful but her gaze sharp.

✞⛧ Her possessiveness knows no bounds. She’s fiercely protective of you and doesn’t tolerate anyone undermining your place at her side.

✞⛧ Ambessa’s confidence in her ability to keep you around is unshakable. “If you think there’s someone better out there, you’re welcome to try,” she says with a smirk, knowing you won’t leave.

✞⛧ As much as you rely on her wealth, you can’t help but admire her strength and intelligence. Ambessa notices this shift and uses it to her advantage.

✞⛧ “Are you still here for the riches,” she asks one evening, her voice low and teasing, “or is it something more?”

✞⛧ Despite her stoic exterior, she occasionally surprises you with deeply thoughtful gestures, reminding you that she values more than your superficial charm.

✞⛧ She’s impossible to outmaneuver, her years of experience in politics and warfare ensuring that she always stays one step ahead of you.

✞⛧ Your fiery dynamic evolves into something deeper over time. Ambessa challenges you to prove your worth beyond material desires, and you find yourself wanting to rise to the occasion.

✞⛧ When she catches you admiring her, Ambessa raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Careful, mi vida. You’re starting to look like someone in love.”

✞⛧ Whether it started for the wrong reasons or not, your relationship with Ambessa becomes impossible to ignore. Her commanding presence is magnetic, and you’re captivated.

✞⛧ In the end, Ambessa doesn’t care why you came into her life. What matters is that you’re hers now, and she doesn’t plan on letting you go.

#arcane #ambessa headcanons #ambessa the chosen of the wolf #ambessa league of legends #lol ambessa #ambessa x you #ambessa x reader #arcane ambessa #ambessa arcane #ambessa medarda #arcane x female reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #arcane x reader

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baeksqt · 19 hours ago

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𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐩𝐭. 𝟐 — alexia putellas

alexia putellas x barcelona!reader

a/n: fun fact, I had actually cut the whole piece part in half, due to me feeling like it was getting long winded but also adding like 2000 more words cause I didn't like how I ended it ijbol, but it seems like you guys enjoyed it so here’s the rest of it \(^ヮ^)/

word count: 4164

genre: somewhat fluff with angsty tendencies

tw: emotional cheating

now playing: swim by renee rapp

part one

summary: trying to keep your heart in check, but alexia's charm finally slipped through the cracks

You were determined to put everything behind you. Arriving to training early, hoping that focusing on football would clear your head. Going through your routine with extra intensity, pushing yourself harder than usual, letting the rhythm of drills drown out the noise in your mind.

But then Alexia arrived.

She walked onto the pitch with that effortless confidence, her hair tied back in a high ponytail, her sharp eyes scanning the field before landing on you. A small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

“Someone’s eager today,” the footballer called out as she jogged over, her confident stride matching the lively rhythm of the drill. In a swift motion, she fell into step beside you, her foot deftly stealing the ball from your control.

“Just trying to stay sharp,” you replied, forcing a casual shrug to mask the competitive spark within. With determination, you lunged forward, tackling the ball back into your possession.

Alexia’s gaze lingered on you, a thoughtful smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Good. I like that about you,” she remarked, her voice warm and encouraging.

You rolled your eyes, a playful grin breaking through your facade. “You like winning. And I help with that,” you shot back, a teasing edge in your tone as you both relished the friendly rivalry.

“True. But I like a lot of things.”

You ignored the way that made your stomach twist and focused on the drill as Coach Romeu blew the whistle.

As training wrapped up, the team broke into groups, chatting and joking while stretching on the sidelines. You sat on the grass, taking light sips of your water when Mapi and Ingrid flopped down next to you.

“You and Alexia seem to be getting along well,” Mapi teased, nudging you with her knee, “she’s been glued to your side lately.”

You maintained a calm and composed expression, letting no emotion escape as you replied, “She’s the captain. It’s her responsibility to ensure we feel at ease.”

Ingrid leaned back, a smirk dancing across her lips, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Sure, but that’s not the impression she’s giving off,” she quipped, an eyebrow raised as if challenging your words.

You shook your head, a light laugh escaping your lips, dismissing their concerns. “You two are overanalysing the situation,” you said, trying to inject a sense of levity into the conversation.

But you could feel Alexia’s eyes on you from across the field.

After training, you ducked into the locker room early, hoping to avoid another one-on-one with Alexia. Moving quickly, you shoved your gear into your bag when you heard the familiar voice behind her.

“Leaving so soon?”

You closed your eyes briefly before turning around. “Yeah, I’ve got things to do.”

“You’re always running off. What’s the rush?” Alexia leaned against the lockers, arms crossed, watching you with that same easy confidence.

You met her gaze once more. “Just…life outside football, you know?”

“You never really talk about it.”

“Not much to tell.” You shot back.

You felt the weight of the words. It wasn’t an accusation, but it sure felt like one. “You should let me take you out sometime. Show you what Barcelona is really like. Madrid has nothing compared to here.” The blonde suggested.

Your breath caught in your throat. There it was, undeniable, unmistakable. And for a brief moment, the idea of saying yes flickered in your mind. But Lucia’s face surfaced in your thoughts, and reality came crashing down.

“I…” you started, shaking your head, “I don’t really have time for that.”

Alexia studied you for a moment, as if searching for something beneath the polite refusal. Finally, she nodded, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

“Alright. But if you change your mind—”

You found yourself cutting her off, the words spilling out before you could think them through. “—walk with me?” The request left your lips almost involuntarily, and you could hear the uncertainty in your own voice. You weren’t certain why you had asked; perhaps it was a longing for connection, or maybe a desperate attempt to ease the tension that hung between you like a heavy fog.

For a moment, you studied Alexia's face, noticing the flicker of hesitation that crossed her features. Time seemed to stretch as she weighed her options, the silence stretching uncomfortably. Finally, she nodded, the expression in her eyes shifting to one of reluctant agreement. “Yeah, alright.” The softness in her voice suggested a mixture of curiosity and caution, and you could feel a small rush of hope at her response.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue over Barcelona, the streets settled into a serene ambience. The gentle murmur of conversations floated through the air as clusters of people began filtering out of offices, their footsteps echoing softly on the cobblestone pathways. An air of tranquillity enveloped the evening, punctuated only by the distant laughter from a nearby café.

At this moment, the silence between you and Alexia felt comfortable at first, familiar like an old song. Yet, you couldn't shake the unsettling awareness of her gaze lingering on you. Out of the corner of your eye, you could sense her curiosity, her expression a blend of contemplation and intrigue amidst the fading light.

Eventually, she broke it. “You don’t have to tell me everything, you know. But…you can talk to me.”

You swallowed hard, the action sending a ripple of tension through your throat. Your fingers tightened around the strap of your bag, a familiar habit when you felt exposed or vulnerable. Alexia stood before you, her eyes searching—probing deeper, trying to penetrate the thick walls you’d built around your heart. For a fleeting moment, you felt a flicker of temptation to let her in, to lower your defences and share the weight you carried.

But then, like a shadow creeping in, the image of Lucia flashed in your mind. You felt warmth spread through your chest as you remembered her infectious smile—bright and genuine, the kind that could melt the heaviest of hearts. You recalled the sound of her laughter, light and carefree, resonating like music in your soul. Lucia had always been your anchor, offering unwavering love and support without hesitation, regardless of the storms you encountered.

“I know,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I appreciate it.” The sincerity of your words felt like a fragile bridge between you and Alexia, one that you weren’t sure you wanted to cross.

Alexia nodded slowly, her expression a blend of concern and understanding, unreadable like a closed book. “Alright. Just…don’t keep yourself locked up too tight, chica.” Her tone was gentle yet firm, as if she was trying to impart wisdom born from her own experiences. As you turned to part ways, you felt the weight of her words settle deep in your chest, resonating like a long-forgotten melody.

You were left grappling with the meaning behind her statement. Was it a warning—an acknowledgement of the danger in isolation—or perhaps an invitation to open up, to let someone in amidst the chaos? Maybe it was a combination of both, a call to find balance in a world that had often felt too heavy to bear alone.

Later that night, Lucia’s messages were waiting for you, but you hesitated before picking it up.

You typed out a quick message: Hey, sorry, it’s been a long day. Miss you.

Almost immediately, your girlfriend replied: I miss you too. Are you okay?

Staring at the blinking cursor, you paused. You could tell Lucia. You should tell Lucia, about Alexia, about the way things were starting to feel…complicated. But what would you even say?

Instead, you typed: Yeah. Just tired.

You told yourself that you weren’t doing anything wrong. It was just training. Just football. Just Alexia being Alexia.

But the truth was, you felt yourself softening. It was in the little things. The way you didn’t always pull away when Alexia got too close, the way you found yourself looking forward to the moments alone after training, the way your heart didn’t hammer in panic anymore when she teased you. Instead, it did something worse. It fluttered.

It wasn’t like you meant to let it happen. It just…did.

After another late training session, Alexia caught up with you outside the locker room. The sun setting over the stadium, casting long shadows across the field, and you were in no hurry to leave. “Come on, I’m starving. Let’s grab something to eat.” Alexia nudged your arm, matching your slow pace. You wavered, but this time, it wasn’t immediate. The excuses that usually came so easily, I have things to do, I should call Lucia, I should keep my distance, felt weaker. “Okay,” you said before you could overthink it. Just dinner, nothing more.

Sitting across from Alexia in a quiet little cafe tucked away in the heart of Barcelona, you felt yourself relaxing in a way you hadn’t expected. Talking about football, about music, about the things you missed from home. You had laughed more than you had in weeks, and for a little while, you forgot about the gnawing guilt in your chest.

“You’re different when you’re off the pitch,” Alexia observed at one point, watching you closely, sitting opposite you.

“What do you mean?” You blinked.

Alexia shrugged. “You seem…lighter. Less guarded.”

“I guess I just focus a lot when we’re training.” You felt your stomach twist.

The footballer leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand. “Yeah, but you don’t have to do that with me, you know.” she poured herself water from the ceramic jug. “So, who’s the mysterious someone?”

“It’s nothing,” You stumbled over your words, heart stuttering. “Nobody, even.”

And at that moment, you thought about Lucia, About how easy things used to be. About how complicated they felt now. Alexia didn’t press, just smiled and changed the subject, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that Alexia was waiting—for something, for her.

And you were starting to wonder if you were waiting too.

Later that night, you lay on your sofa, barely focused on the telenovela playing on your TV. Your phone buzzed in your hand, Lucia. You hesitated before picking it up.

“Hey,” you said softly.

“Hey,” Lucia’s voice was warm and familiar, but you felt an ache deep in your chest at how far away it sounded. “I was starting to think you forgot about me.”

You closed your eyes. “Never.”

Lucia laughed softly. “You okay? You’ve been quiet lately.”

“Yeah, just…training’s been a lot.” You bit your lip. It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the full truth either.

“I get it,” Lucia said gently. “I miss you though.”

“I miss you too,” you whispered, but even as you said it, you couldn’t shake the memory of Alexia’s smile from your mind.

You woke up the next morning with a heavy weight in your chest. The events of the past few days played over and over in your head as you stared at the ceiling. Alexia’s teasing words, the way she lingered too close, the way you let it happen.

It had to stop.

You couldn’t keep toeing this delicate line, couldn’t continue to disguise the reality of your feelings. The gentle cadence of Lucia’s voice lingered in your mind, a soft and warm reminder from last night’s call: “I miss you.” You had echoed her sentiment in return, yet an unsettling doubt had begun to creep in; did you truly mean it the same way anymore? The mere contemplation of that question sent a shiver of dread coursing through you.

As you pulled into the parking lot for training, resolve washed over you like a tide. You knew what you needed: distance. A break from Alexia. A breath away from whatever confusing emotions were brewing between you and her. The weight of your decision felt both heavy and liberating, a beacon guiding you toward a clearer path in the midst of the emotional fog.

Alexia noticed immediately. During passing drills, you were efficient and precise—but distant. No small smiles, no stolen glances, no playful banter. Just football. At first, she brushed it off, assuming you were just having an off day. But as training went it, it became impossible to ignore. When she tried to nudge your shoulder during water breaks, you shifted away. When she joked with you after a goal, you only nodded stiffly and jogged back to position.

By the end of the session, Alexia was frowning, watching you grab your things from the locker without so much as a word. “Chica,” Alexia called out, catching up to you just outside the stadium, “what’s going on?”

You kept your eyes on the pavement. “Nothing. Just tired.”

Alexia studied you, unconvinced. “Come on. Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Your jaw tightened.

“Shut me out,” Alexia said delicately. “Did I do something?”

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to meet Alexia’s gaze, and for a moment, you felt that same familiar pull, the one you’d been trying so hard to ignore. But you couldn’t let herself fall into it again.

“We’re teammates, Alexia,” you said, your voice carefully measured. “That’s all this is. And I think we should keep it that way.”

Something flickered in the footballer’s eyes. Surprise, disappointment, something else that you couldn’t name.

“You don’t really believe that.” Alexia scoffed.

You tightened your fists at your sides, a fierce burn igniting behind your ribs as adrenaline coursed through you. “I do.” Alexia's gaze bored into yours, searching your expression with an intensity that felt almost tangible, as if she was peeling back layers to discern whether you were hiding the truth. Perhaps you were—just a sliver of it.

“Alright,” she finally relented, stepping back, the distance between you feeling monumental. “If that’s what you truly want.”

You nodded, the sharp edge of resolve mingling with a piercing sting in your chest that deepened with every passing moment. Turning away, you felt the weight of each step press down upon you, dragging your heart along with it. But just as the space between you widened, Alexia's voice cut through the air, softer now, tinged with what seemed like regret. “You know,” she said, her words lingering like an echo in the silence, “you can run from this all you want. But it won’t change how you feel.”

Your breath caught in your throat, a lump forming as you fought the urge to turn back. Instead, you continued moving forward, each footfall heavy and deliberate, with the sensation of an invisible anchor pulling you down.

You thought that putting distance between you and Alexia would make things easier.

It didn’t.

Lucia’s messages became more frequent, and you would respond quickly, forcing yourself to engage, to remind yourself where you belonged. You told her you loved her, that you missed her, and tried to ignore the gnawing feeling in your chest when you said it.

But despite your best efforts, Alexia was always there.

Days passed, then weeks, and the tension only grew. Alexia didn’t push anymore, no teasing remarks, no lingering looks, no casual touches that sent your heart into overdrive. She respected your decision, and that should have made you feel relieved. Instead, it felt worse. Because now, Alexia was cold too. She was still kind, still professional, but she didn’t seek you out like she used to. During drills, she passed the ball to you with the same precision as always, but without the usual grin that came with it. In the locker room, she sat with the others, laughing and chatting, but never near you.

It was exactly what you wanted. So why did it feel like a loss?

One night, you called Lucia. The moment you heard her voice, warm and full of love, you felt a pang of guilt.

“Hey, you,” Lucia started gently. “I was hoping you’d call earlier.”

You smiled faintly. “Yeah, training ran late.” The excuse you would repeat to her constantly in the past was now a reason.

“You’re always working so hard,” Lucia murmured. “I wish I could be there with you.”

You closed your eyes, the familiar ache settling in. “Me too.”

But even as you said it, your mind drifted, to the way Alexia had looked at her earlier, an unreadable expression in her eyes when you crossed paths in the gym. The way you had felt that pull again, despite everything.

“Are you okay?” Lucia asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

You swallowed. “Yeah. Just tired.”

A pause. Then, softly, “You know you can talk to me, right?”

“I know.” You nodded even though Lucia couldn’t see you.

But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

The following day, you avoided Alexia all morning, keeping to yourself, focusing on your drills, and when training ended, you planned to slip away quickly. But as you turned the corner towards the locker room, almost colliding with the blonde.

“Whoa,” Alexia breathed, her fingers wrapping around your arm with surprising urgency just as you were about to retreat. “In a hurry to get away?”

Your heart pounded in your chest at her touch, a jolt of electricity racing through you, but you fought to keep your expression steady. “Yeah, I just need to—”

“Talk to me?” Alexia cut in, her grip softening but still lingering as if reluctant to let you go. “Because I honestly think we should.”

Her tone shifted, turning serious as she leaned in slightly, the playful atmosphere fading. “Listen, I get it. You’ve got someone in your life, and I respect that. But it feels like you’re trying to push me away as if I don’t even matter.”

“I’m not trying to—” Guilt clawed at your throat, the weight of her words sinking in.

“You are,” she asserted, crossing her arms tightly and leaning against the doorframe, her posture radiating both defiance and vulnerability. “You've been avoiding me, and it shows. But if this is the way you want it, I won’t fight back. I just want you to be honest—with me and with yourself.”

“What do you want me to say, Alexia? I am being honest. I’m with Lucia, and I don’t want to jeopardize that,” you shot back, the frustration bubbling over as you met her gaze, the intensity causing you to realize only then that you had said Lucia's name out loud.

Alexia’s expression hardened, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I hope she’s worth it,” she said sharply, pushing off the doorframe and creating a palpable distance between you. The tension in the air thickened like a storm on the horizon.

And just like that, she was gone, leaving you staring at the empty space where she stood.

You hadn’t meant to miss training.

The first day, you told yourself you just needed a break, one morning to clear your head. But then one day turned into two, and then three, and by the time the fourth day rolled around, you couldn’t face the idea of walking back onto the pitch and pretending everything was fine.

Your phone buzzed constantly with messages from the team, from Mapi, Ingrid, and even coach Romeu. But you ignored them all. Except for one.

Alexia: Where are you? You okay?

Simple. Direct. No teasing, no pressure.

You stared at the message a little while longer before locking your phone and curling deeper into the sofa. You didn’t know how to answer, you barely knew what you wanted anymore.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the streets of Barcelona as the evening chill settled in. Alexia stood outside your apartment door, her breath forming small clouds in the crisp air. She raised her hand and knocked with a delicate yet firm knock once, then twice. Silence enveloped her, save for the soft rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. Just as she lifted her hand to knock again, the door creaked open a fraction, revealing you on the other side. The faint light illuminated your face, highlighting the deep shadows under your tired eyes, a testament to sleepless nights. You blinked, momentarily taken aback by the sight of her. “What are you doing here?” you murmured, the words barely escaping your lips as surprise washed over you.

Alexia crossed her arms. “You weren’t answering your phone. And you’ve missed training.”

You sighed, rubbing your temple. “I just…needed some time.”

“Can I come in?” Alexia softened.

You paused, the weight of indecision settling in your chest, before reluctantly stepping aside. Alexia entered the room, her gaze sweeping over the shadowy expanse of the apartment. The soft glow of the single light bulb illuminated the chaos, a tangle of cosy, crumpled blankets draped carelessly over the sofa as if they had been cast aside in a moment of weariness. Scattered around the coffee table were an assortment of half-eaten takeout containers, remnants of forgotten meals that spoke to long nights and untamed hunger. An unmistakable sense of fatigue lingered in the air, wrapping around the room like a heavy blanket, amplifying the atmosphere of exhaustion that hung in every corner.

“Do you want to me what’s going on?” Alexia asked softly as she perched on the armrest of the worn sofa, her presence both comforting and disarming. You couldn't quite fathom why she continued to show you such kindness despite the way you had been acting over the past few months. As you sank deeper into the plush cushions, a heavy sigh escaped your lips, a mix of frustration and resignation. “I’ve been feeling… off,” you confessed, searching for the right words. “I thought maybe taking some time for myself would help clear my head.”

Alexia tilted her head, studying you. “And? Has it?”

You wavered before shaking your head. “No. Not really.”

There was a beat of silence before Alexia leaned forward, her tone soft but firm. “Come with me.”

“What?” You frowned.

“You need to get out of here,” Alexia said, standing up and offering a hand. “You need a distraction. You still haven’t taken up my offer to show you around Barcelona, remember?”

You stared at Alexia’s outstretched hand. You know you should say no. You should tell her to leave and call Lucia instead. However, you found yourself nodding slowly, placing your hand in Alexia’s.

“Okay,” you mumbled, “give me 10 minutes.”

Alexia smiled, giving your fingers a small squeeze before pulling you up. “I know just the place.”

The city was alive this evening, bustling with tourists and locals alike. Alexia took you through winding streets of the Gothic Quarter, stopping at hidden cafes and scenic overlooks with the ease of someone who had grown up here.

You walked along the beach, the waves lapping softly at the shore, and you found yourself breathing easier for the first time in days.

“So,” Alexia said, kicking at the sand lightly. “Feeling better?”

You glanced at her, a small smile tugging at your lips, “Yeah. I am.”

“Told you I was good at distractions.” the Spaniard grinned.

You playfully rolled your eyes, but for once, you didn’t feel the usual resistance tugging at your chest. As you both made your way back through the narrow streets, Alexia suddenly stopped in front of a small gelato shop. “Okay, this place? Best in the city.”

You chuckled. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true,” Alexia shot back, dragging you inside.

You sat outside with your gelato, the city lights twinkling around you, as you sat on the cobblestone street, you took in the scent of flowers in the distance.

“You’re different tonight,” Alexia watched you carefully. “In a good way.”

You exhaled, staring down at your half-eaten gelato. “I think I just got tired of fighting it.”

Alexia’s eyes softened. “Fighting what?”

You met her gaze, and for the first time in weeks, you didn’t look away. “You.”

The air between you shifted, heavy and electric. Alexia set her spoon down and leaned in, her voice barely a whisper. “Cariña…”

Before you could fully process the moment, you stepped closer, bridging the gap that had kept you apart. With a tender urgency, your lips found Alexia’s in a soft, tentative kiss, a gentle exploration tinged with a hint of watermelon sweetness lingering on her lips. The initial uncertainty quickly melted away as Alexia began to respond, awakening something deep within you that had been tightly wound and yearning to be released. When you finally broke the kiss, the world around you seemed to pause, and Alexia leaned into you, resting her head against your shoulder. A soft, breathless laugh escaped her lips, light and airy, as if the weight of unspoken words had lifted. “So…does this mean you’re finally done running?” she asked, her voice a teasing whisper enveloped in warmth.

You smiled, feeling lighter than you had in weeks. “Yeah, I think I am.”

And for the first time, you didn’t feel guilty.

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #fc barcelona femeni #barcelona femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso fluff #woso fanfics #baeksqt writes

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julieloves074 · 1 day ago

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‘A little bit… or a lot’ (Min Ho x Reader)

Summary: K.I.S.S resident Marco will not leave Y/n alone so the night at the club Min Ho comes to her rescue and they set themselves up in fake relationship to make sure the guy gets a hint, but will their friendship survive the blurred lines?

Warnings: kissing, divorce

Word count: 8.7K

(Noy my GIF :))

“Not again,” I say out loud subconsciously, Kitty and I are once again in the boys flat just studying with Q, and I lay my phone face down frustrated.

Q and Kitty turn towards me immediately, annoyance showing in their eyes, but not at me “What did he say this time?” Q asks.

I just pass him my phone; Kitty gets up from lying on her stomach and looks over his shoulder, her face twists and turns as she reads the message.

“I mean it could kind of be kinda… romantic- no?”

“What can be seen as romantic?” Min Ho says walking in through the dorm door and taking off his shoes, looking between the three of us.

I let out a loud sigh and twist to lie on my back laying a pillow over my face, “It’s Marco he keeps message me,” I hug the pillow to my chest.

Q laughs, “He’s pestering her and very clearly not getting a hint,” he says pointing the phone in Min Ho’s direction, he pulls a disgusted face as he reads the message.

“They say you are what you attract,” Min Ho says with a level of sass and walks into his room closing the door behind him.

“No one has ever said that” Kitty exclaimed in a whisper and the three of us burst into a fit of laughter.

Q passed the phone back to me and I immediately threw it to the other side of the sofa, “That guy seriously needs to chill,” Q says turning back to the textbook and question sheet.

“Honestly I’m so tired of it, I’m scared he’s gonna try something in person,” I said, both my friends shoot my empathetic looks, trying to be supportive, but it doesn’t look like Marco is going to leave me alone any time soon.

Kitty started to gather up all her resources, “Okay time to stop this,” she says getting up and putting the stuff in her bag. I try to argue with her that we’ve only done half the homework questions, but she ignores me and keeps packing.

“Look I need time to get ready for this date with Praveena, I really think things could work out between us, so I want to put the effort in,” she explains, Q and I look at each other and identical smiles spread across our faces, “Plus I’m still yet to match make you and I think it’s time you find someone for you, and it might help Marco move on,” I give her the can we not talk about this right now look but then Q agrees.

He stands up to leans against the sofa arm and looks down at me, “We’re gonna have so much fun, come on smileee,” he says reaching out an arm and pulling me up.

We agree to finish the work tomorrow and to meet in two hours to head out to the club. A new DJ was playing and most everyone in the friendship group wanted to go.

When we arrive the atmosphere is perfect, the music is energetic but cool, the lights and decorations are the exact level of out there and complimentary, and everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. Kitty is quickly stolen away by Praveena and taken to the dance floor.

Dae, Q and I make our way to get mocktails before also heading to the dance floor, I watch Q looking around as if he were shopping for guys, which to be fair was exactly his plan for the night- a little distraction from the stress of tomorrow’s race and I was not going to stop him. Dae on the other hand looked stiff and uncomfortable but trying to move around doing something that kind of resembled dance moves.

“Oh my god,” Q says suddenly, and I follow his eyeline only to be met with the one and only, enemy on and off the track: Jin. Q looks… frankly offended at the sight and excuses himself.

When I turn back around to Dae he’s disappeared too, I look around but I can’t see him so go back to the bar to get another mocktail, then I finally find him talking to a group of girls at the back of the club and then I find Q making out with Jin so I went back for another drink and sat at the bar just people watching, all my friends were spread around.

That’s when I heard his voice. “Y/n!” Marco said sitting down next to me, I closed my eyes for a second. Great – now him. I couldn’t have my sad song music video moment, and I had to talk to him.

“Marco,” I say and it accidentally comes out a little too high pitched.

“What is such a pretty girl doing sat at the bar by herself?” he asks shuffling his seat closer and ordering a drink, being a good friend, I wanted to tell him, by not cockblocking any of my friends but I just don’t answer.

I finish the last of my drink and turn around to put it on the counter, in turn he places his hand on the counter almost touching my arm and leans closer to me, “Did you wanna get out of here? We could go grab some food or something,” he asked and I cringed internally.

Opening my mouth to answer he interrupts me, “Come on Y/n, we can go to that barbeque palace you love,”.

I grab my bag and stand as I say, “Marco I don’t-”

“There you are babe,” someone says from behind me, I feel an arm being strung against my shoulder, I turn to see Min Ho just as he presses a kiss to my forehead. He sees the confusion, and maybe a little fear in my eyes and nods subtly to Marco.

“Yep, just been waiting for you,” I reach my arm around his middle, he pulls me closer to him.

“Bye Marco,” Min Ho says simply and turns us away from the brunette walking in the direction of the exit.

What the hell just happened.

“What the hell just happened?” I said out loud this time as the outside breeze soothed me.

Min Ho just sighed taking his arm away, “I just saved your ass, you’re welcome by the way,” he explains.

“Thank you,” I say still in the state of shock.

“He really must not talk to many girls,” he continues, “you looked, repulsed, to say the least,” then one of his brows raised, “I can’t tell who I feel worse for, you, or that poor, helpless guy,”.

I shove my shoulder into his slightly, he swayed to one side by a step, a smile playing on his lips, I shook my head in response.

“What were you doing at the club anyway? I thought you said,” and then I turned on my best Mino Ho accent impression, “The sweat and heat of those places is terrible for my skin,”. The cool January breeze was rustling against my skin, and it was a pleasant contrast to the club which was starting to feel claustrophobic.

“I wanted to hear the DJ live, I’m considering hiring her for my next party,” he says placing his hands into his pockets, I wrapped mine around my jumper.

“So how long has this guy- what’s his name Mark- been bothering you?” Min Ho asked as we walk out towards the dorm buildings.

“Marco,” I say- he knew his name just chose to be petty, then I ran my hand through my hair but didn’t look at him when I answer, “Honestly pretty much since beginning of last semester but the messaging started getting more frequent over the break,”.

“Why haven’t you told anyone about it earlier?” he asked as if I was being an inconvenience to him, I explain to him that it’s never been anything big, he wasn’t being rude or demanding he just didn’t seem to understand that I wasn’t interested and the more I was pushing the more he was latching on.

“No every man can be as good as me, clearly,”

“Clearly,” I join in on his banter, “but seriously, thank you for saving me, I know how much how that must have killed you inside, to have to align yourself with me in such a way,” I said exaggerating, of course he didn’t actually feel this way, we are friends, but it was an inside joke in the friend group that Min Ho was just better than everyone.

Min Ho stopped in his track taking in a deep breath, “Fine, I’ll be your pretend boyfriend,”.

“What?- Min Ho I’m not asking you to-” the words fell out my mouth quickly.

He brushed me off immediately, “Until Marco leaves you alone. You should be thankful that I’m such a good person,” he starts walking again. I take a few quick paced steps to catch up to him.

“Min Ho you really don’t have to, I think he’s got it,” I argued but I agree with the words coming out of my mouth, if anything a one off like this was likely to propel Marco more, as if this were some kind of challenge for all I knew.

“You’re so ungrateful,”

“Ok fine,” I say defeated, “Thank you,” this time with more emotion.

“It was time to do some charity work anyway,” he said messing up my hair, my face scrunched up in reaction. The rest of the way home in his car was spent arguing about what the best snack for film night was, then what the best film is and soon enough we were back on K.I.S.S grounds.

Min Ho walked me to the door of the girl’s dorm, now that we were alone we discussed what this arrangement meant, and what we were going to tell our friends. The answer was nothing, we were gonna leave them in the dark, one of them was likely to blabber and this needed to seem real. We would act as a couple in front of others but mostly when Marco was around. Not going over the top but just enough to make him believe. When we got to the door we looked at each other.

“What do we tell them when they ask how this happened?”

“We say that you finally fell for my handsome look and irresistible charm,” he says running a hand through his hair, “I mean it was bound to happen, everyone does,”

“Okay Min Ho, whatever,” and then we quickly came up with our cover story.

“Night L/n”

“Goodnight Min Ho,”

Then he was walking in the direction of the boy’s dorm and I look at my phone that was buzzing mercilessly the last few minutes, a bunch of texts were shining brightly back at me.

Kitty: Where are you?

Kitty: Helloooo

Kitty: We want to leave soon

Q: Girl we’re worried answer the phone

Q: missed call (2)

Kitty: missed call (3)

Yuri: Y/n meet us by the front door

Kitty: Swear I’m going to expose all ur secrets if you don’t answer

Shoot.

I was so wrapped up in the Marco situation and then Min Ho that I didn’t even think to text any of them. Not wanting to call any of them right now I text Kitty a quick explanation, that I wasn’t feeling well and Min Ho took us home.

My reply was met with several other messages, but I just got inside our room, got changed and jumped into bed. Twenty minutes later the girls arrived in the dorm but I was pretending I was asleep, which I almost was, so a little white lie. They would’ve wanted to know what happened and I wasn’t quite ready to fake having a relationship in front of my friends.

<3 <3 <3

Over the next few days all was pretty normal, I didn’t see much of Min Ho outside of lessons, he was busy with avoiding his father and I was busy helping Kitty figure out who this Simon guy we are searching for is. Though on Thursday morning there was some flowers delivered to our door whilst we were having breakfast, I managed to get to the card before the girls thankfully and since then they wouldn’t stop prying.

That was until tonight, our weekly movie nights, I was feelings blessed with the fact that it was finally Friday, but I also didn’t know how to behave.

“I’m dreading whatever we’re gonna watch tonight,” Yuri says as we walk through the boy’s dorm building.

Kitty is flinging her popcorn bag, “I know I hate it when the boys pick, it’s always some kind of action film,” she says.

“They’re not always that bad,” Julianna says bringing Yuri’s hand, which she was holding, up to her lips to give it a kiss.

Even though I didn’t mind the action films or the thrillers it was when they put on horror films that I wanted to run and hide- I don’t judge what people like but it’s lowkey not for me.

“Oh guys remind me to ask Jin for that smoothie recipe before we leave tonight,” Yuri says as we arrive at the door. Kitty reaches for the handle and lets herself right in, we all take our shoes off and say hello to everyone. Giving the boys the benefit of the doubt they did prepare hot drinks and brought some blankets into the living area.

“Are you girls ready to dive into Infested?” Min Ho says coming out his and Dae’s room, the latter following behind him with a closed lipped smile.

“Nooo,” I drag out and look at Q begging him for some support, he just gives me one of those pitying smiles. That night on the way back from the club I told Min Ho that I refused to go watch the film in cinemas or at all.

Dae pats my shoulder as he walks past, “Sorry Y/n it was Min Ho’s turn to pick this time,” he said taking the drinks from the counter and passing them out to those who have already sat down.

Min Ho took a place on the edge of the sofa, I helped Q grab the bowls with snacks and lay them on the table as the others chatted, Jin was using the remote to turn on the film. I look towards Kitty to go join her and sit in front of the sofa when Min Ho catches my eye.

He nods his head ever so subtly, urging me to come sit next to him, I abide with some reluctance.

“L/n” he says lifting the blanket, I sit down with my legs curled up to my body, “I really do think you’re going to hate this movie,” his smile is sadistic, I go to elbow him and he flinches away.

“That’s my opinion,” I say sweetly.

After asking if everyone was ready Jin turned the movie on, and as expected it was creepy and eerie and my mouth was curled up in discomfort within the first 15 minutes. When everyone is deeply focused on the film I turn my head to Min Ho slightly.

“Also- flowers. Really?” I whispered shaking my head.

“Do you want this to be believable or not?” he said back still watching the screen, does he actually send flowers to the girls he was dating, just because?

“Who knew you were such a gentleman,” I teased and I just watched him roll his eyes before turning back to the screen, my distraction did not want to distract me from whatever the hell was happening on the screen.

About half an hour passed before jumpscare scared me so bad that I turned my head to the side covering my eyes and almost hit Min Ho who was sat very close to me. A low chuckle escaped him, then he was laying his arm around me, I felt myself stiffening, it was unexpected, but it only took a second for my body to relax.

After Kitty returned from the toilet later on during the movie she looked at me, her eyes widening as if I’d grown another head, her eyes scanned from me to Min Ho, back to me then to him in a questioning look. After I failed to satisfy her need for answer she sat back down and pulled her phone out, then I felt another two pairs of eyes on me, but I forced myself to keep my eyes on the screen. How long did we have of this film yet?

At some point Min Ho started to brush his fingers back and forth across the skin on arm, it was calming, and if it was anyone else, in any other circumstance I’d find it endearing, romantic.

When the movie was finished, I was half asleep on the sofa, my head on Min Ho’s chest, no one said anything about our position as they started getting up and cleaning, but they did look back once or twice to check if they were seeing things right.

I got up to help washing up, putting my jumper back on after unfurling from the warm blanket.

“So don’t worry guys we’ll be back with a super cheesy romance next week!” Kitty says clapping her hands together and then hugging Q goodbye. I laid the tea towel on counter ready to go get my shoes back on too.

One step into my journey I was stopped, everyone was still chatting and getting ready to leave, as a pair of arms wrapped around me.

“Bye babe,” came Min Ho’s voice, a little louder than usual, just to make sure everyone heard, and before I knew what was happening, he was turning me around slightly, his eyes going to my lips, then to my eyes, and he clearly did not read the panic in my eyes as he leaned down and kissed me briefly.

“Bye,” I said almost breathlessly, turning back to see all our friends trying to hide their shock.

The walk back to our dorm was very quiet, Yuri complained that no one reminded her to get the smoothie recipe from Jin and Kitty was listing rom coms, but what would usually be loud was rather quiet.

That was until we were all within the space of our dorm.

“What the hell was that?!” Yuri exclaimed

“Yeah, I think you have some explaining to do,” Kitty says fidgeting excitedly

I hang up my jacket before turning back to them, “Guys it’s not a big deal,”

“Not a big deal!” Kitty started, “Is this where you disappeared to last week after ditching us at the club

“Actually, you guys all ditched me…”

Julianna joined in “So not the point, but seriously you can’t say it’s not a big deal,”

“You and Min Ho have been butting heads all of last semester,” Yuri states.

“That’s irrelevant, what happened that night?” Kitty pestered excitedly.

I lifted myself to sit on the island counter, “He ended up coming to the club so he could listen to the DJ, he thought he might hire her for his next party, I bumped into him on my way outside, the hot air was giving me a headache and we just talked, and then came back and talked some more,” I pull my lips into a shy smile.

“Just talked?” Yuri says consciously.

“Okay talked and then, we kissed, it was an in the moment thing but then yeah, we’re just in this kind of middle ground where I don’t really know what’s going on,”

“Oh my God, so the flowers the other day were from him?” Yuri pieces it all together.

“I mean I have literally been telling you guys for moths,” Kitty says turning to the other two girl putting her hand out, palm upwards, “You both owe me,” she says. I shook my head and jumped down from the counter, Kitty had once said as a one off to me that maybe this line of annoyance with each other was more, but I just brushed her off, and now I feel bad tricking her, but it wouldn’t be for long.

<3 <3 <3

We all got stuck into the semester really fast the next few weeks, lessons were harder, and Kitty was actively doing opposite of what her intention was this semester with Praveena and Yuri, but at least we were making progress on her family situation. Min Ho and I were acting like a happy couple every time we all met up or Marco was around, which was decreasing the more times he saw Min Ho with his arm around me or whispering something judgy about someone else in my ear making me laugh.

This meant we started spending more time together and I was learning so much about him, one night when everyone else went out we cooked dinner, well more accurately he cooked dinner whilst I tried helping but he just sent me away to the other side of the kitchen island and I watched him sheepishly.

“Stop looking at me like that L/n” he said not even looking up from the vegetables he was chopping, and I felt a blush rise on my face.

There was also the first time I spent time in his room, we had been texting and I was complaining about homework for one of the classes and he told me to just come over and he would help me. We were doing homework sat on his bed listening to music, his back pressed against the wall, and I was laying on my stomach facing him as we worked out the answers.

The someone creaked open the door slightly, “I want to come in so stop making out!” Dae warned and Min Ho and I looked at each other as if that was the most disgusting thought. He was not a bad kisser, in fact the last few weeks I’ve found out quite the opposite, but I wasn’t about to boost his ego.

We all also ended up going to the Moon’s cabin for the holiday weekend, unfortunately his dad didn’t come up, Min Ho said that there was something more important with his favourite son. He played it off cooly, but I could see the hurt in his eyes but he said he didn’t want to talk about it.

That first night when everyone else had fallen asleep I snuck out to the kitchen to get some water, and there was Min Ho sat on the sofa scrolling through his phone, he looked tired with the light illuminating his face in the dark.

“Can’t sleep?” I asked, but he just murmured a reply. I grabbed a blanket and went to sit down next to him, “maybe you should talk to him Min Ho,” I raised the idea gently.

He shook his head and put his head down, “And say what? Oh by the way dad thanks for not coming to the weekend getaway you wanted and always choosing everything and everyone else over me, I don’t think so” he says sharply but I know it’s directed at me. I turn his face to look at me, the persona falls then.

I put my arms around him and pull him close into a hug, running my hand up and down his back and nape as his head is hidden against my neck.

“Be careful L/n or you’ll actually fall in love with me,” he said turning his head ever so slightly to look at me.

“You wish,”

But he didn’t move away, we sat in silence for a while and when I whispered his name I got no reply, only to notice that he’d fallen asleep.

The Kitty came out the corridor to see us, I was running a hand through his hair as I was also starting to doze off, and Kitty whispered, “Is he okay”.

I nodded, “Yeah he will be,”, and then she was heading back to the bedroom with an I told you smile. Over the last few weeks, I did come to care for Min Ho more, as a friend, I got to know more about him and how he’s actually a human with his own shit going on, but he just doesn’t let people in. The rest if our time was spent, playing games and sitting in the hot tub in the evening, there was minimal drama apart from the whole Yuri, Julianna, Kitty and Praveena love letter, and Min Ho’s dad bailing but we made the most of the trip.

By the time we got back it was only two weeks until the school’s annual ball, this year’s theme was going to be ‘Blossom Ball’. In all honesty I didn’t think Min Ho and I would be keeping this thing up for so long but maybe it was time to end it before the ball, I knew more than a couple girls were hoping for my downfall so they could go with him, and in part I did feel guilty, one of these girls could be someone he could really fall for.

After overhearing another not-so-subtle conversation in one of my extracurricular classes I decided that it was time to put it to an end.

That was until I was walking through the common room area and was bombarded by 5 people with signs, pink glittery writing spread out on them, music was turned on really loud behind me, a well known Korean love song. The signs read:

‘Y/n’ ‘Will you’ ‘go to’ ‘the dance’ ‘with me?’

Then Marco burst through the crowd of guys with a single flower in his hands, dropping down to one knee in front of me.

I could feel the eyes of all the other students, and their whispers, mostly judging Marco, because like come on, from the onlooker of an outsider, who asks out a girl to prom when she’s had a boyfriend for the past two months? I could feel the frustration building up under my skin.

“Marco can you just give it a break! I have a boyfriend, that I really like for gods sake. Leave me alone!” I say with more fire than I had intended

“I guess that’s my cue, excuse me mate,” Min Ho says coming from behind Marco who is stuck with a mortified face looking towards us.

“Now that that joke of a man is out the way, will you go to the Blossom Ball with me L/n” he asked lifting the pink roses he held, for a moment something fluttered in my heart and I reminded myself this is not real, it’s for show. I just needed to get through the ball and then we could go back to the way things were, and my heart would stop doing summersaults every time he touched me or smiled at me.

I pulled the ‘are you joking face’ and a smile, a genuine smile, spreads over my lips, I can almost drown out the pathetic complaints from Marco. A but of guilt was eating away at me but not even those surrounding us were paying him any pity, still those who were looking were looking at Min Ho and I.

“Yes, of course,” I reply and reaching for the flowers, the second they’re out of his hands both of them are on my face and he kisses me boldly and I can feel myself blush at the reactions of all the students. The thing about Min Ho was that he didn’t need big signs or loudly blaring music to make something grand and meaningful.

“Well, I hope you have a black dress to wear so you can match my suit,”

“And what If I don’t?” I asked in a challenge.

“Then I guess you’ll be going with Mr grand gesture over there,” he points his thumb behind his back and shrugs before walking away. I watch him walk away for a moment, the audacity of this kid.

“You coming?” he asked turning around briefly and I shake my head before catching up with him.

<3 <3 <3

Thankfully the dress that I bought a while back was black and I have to admit I was looking fucking hot, with my hair curled and let down, my makeup and the black and white corsage that Min Ho dropped off earlier.

“Well well well, Min Ho is being treated tonight,” Kitty says coming out from the bathroom, now too in her dress, a satin red gown, she looked absolutely stunning, anyone would be lucky to have her.

“And who are you planning on wooing tonight Miss Covey,” I said pointing up and down her body, “You look stunning Kitty, all eyes will be on you,” I tell her and she comes give me a hug, everything in Kitty’s love life was still a little bit on fire and in chaos but she was dealing with it, I was there for her. She was doing okay and we found her family, who wasn’t exactly talking to her yet but we got the letters from Peter and we would make them listen one way or another.

We finished getting ready and headed out, the ball was on the other side of campus in one of the new buildings, I couldn’t wait to see all the decorations, and the view was said to be absolutely stunning. We met Yuri and Julianna outside the dorm building and made our way over together. The air was a perfect mix of fresh but also pleasantly warm so none of us had to wear jackets.

“You guys all look absolutely fire,” Q states the second he sees us in an exaggerated voice, complimenting little things about our looks and conveying that we may burn the building down with how hot we look.

“Is it time we talk about you now diva? Come on give us a spin,” Kitty exclaims and helps him do a little twirl. Then Jin comes back with 2 drinks and drags Q to the dance floor, Julianna and Yuri follow.

“So,” Kitty says hands behind her back and looking out at the huge room, it truly was stunning, there was petals everywhere and the colour scheme mixed pink and white and black and gold, it looked elegant, and almost too fancy for a school, “Where’s the lucky guy?” she asks.

“His dad needed something from him, but he should be here soon,” I said and spotted Praveena in my eyeline, Kitty’s gaze followed mine, “Maybe now’s the time?” I suggested, Kitty has been trying to work up the courage to talk to her since everything went down at the cabin but she can’t seem to find a way and it’s been eating away at her.

She asked five times if I was okay being left along for a while and I urged her to go, she deserved to be happy, and something was telling me that Praveena might be willing to hear her out. I headed over to the bar to get myself a drink, pulling out my phone to see a message from my mom asking me to call me when I’ve got a quiet minute. A wave of anxiety passes through me.

“Hi, are you okay?” I look up at the unfamiliar voice.

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, I’m Josh, you just started to look really pale I thought you were about to faint or something,” he stuck his hand out, the boy has dark blonde hair, and he is learning against the bar with a friendly smile.

I shoved my phone back into my little purse, and shook his hand, “No I’m okay, thanks though,”

“Unpleasant message?” he asks and sits down, I take a seat next to him and explain that my family had a poor history of messaging me something really vague things when it was actually something serious and it would make me worry, he then took it upon himself to make me laugh, in his words laugher was one of the best medicines. I found he was from the year above and originally from Canada, and that he wanted my number and to take me out.

The conversation was enjoyable, and he bought me another drink so I gave him my number, he even wanted to dance but I couldn’t not save my first dance for my ‘boyfriend’, Kitty would be devastated. When he left to go to talk to some of his friends, I looked at the time, I hadn’t realised an hour and a half had passed already.

It was then that a figure walking in caught my eye. Min Ho was wearing a stunning black and white suit, his hair in his classic style and yet it looked extra lush right now. Watching him run his hand through it felt as though it was in slow motion. Q who was stood near the entrance caught his searching eyes and pointed in my direction.

“You look… pathetic,” he says in that very Min Ho way of his as he walks over, head turning slightly to the side observing my dress.

I smile subconsciously, “You too,”.

“I’m sorry I’m so late you know how my dad is, when he’s in a good mood it’s one thing after another,” he said earnestly.

I shook my head, brows scrunching, “Oh no don’t worry, I met a new friend, so he kept me company,”

“Who was it?”

“His names Josh, he’s in the year above us,” I say but Min Ho doesn’t seem to look impressed.

He reached his hand forward, a few strands of hair falling forwards, “Come on let’s dance,” he says completely ignoring what I just said, “You think people will believe you’re actually my girlfriend if I don’t even dance with you,”.

A reminder rings in my head, “True, Marco might think it’s his time to swoop in,” I say and something about his facial expression changes ever so slightly, the change so small and sudden that I can’t read it before it’s gone.

He doesn’t say anything just takes a hold of my hand and pulls me towards the dance floor, we stand before each other for less than a second before I reach my hands to rest around his neck, a small awkward chuckle escapes him. This wasn’t new, I have been in very close contact with him, but this felt different.

“Plus, I know this is your favourite song,” he says looking right into my eyes, as if he could see right into my soul.

We talked about Kitty, and Q and Jin, and his dad, and what was going to happen with the big talent competition, and what our plans were for the summer neither of us noting that when these plans were happening this was going to be over. Without either of us realising about three songs had passed, we made each other laugh and then tried to pull serious faces but my attempts were poor in comparison to his.

“This is not fair

“I lo- I really, really like your laugh,” he says correcting himself, I brush him off and move one arm to brush my hair behind my ear. He lifted his hand and tucked the side of my hair behind my ear, then his fingers went to my chin to lift my gaze towards him, his eyes scanning my face.

“L/n” he said, and I could feel my heart rate increase.

“Y/n!” Kitty’s voice shouted out as she approached with our friends, the music turned upbeat and she was pulling my arm to come dance with them, and that’s how the rest of the dance was spent, drinking fancy looking mocktails and running around and dancing with our friends.

It was a few days later when my mom had flown into Seoul and was going to meet me in a restaurant at the edge of town, I told Min Ho that I was more than capable of going by myself, but he insisted that drive and come with me, I only let him when he agreed to stay in the car. In the car he argued at me about not telling him my mom was flying in and that she could have used his family’s private jet rather than coach but I told him he was just being ridiculous.

When we arrived at the restaurant I saw mom through the window, she was wearing bright colours and had a gleaming smile on her lips as she scrolled on her phone. Some of the anxiety that I was feeling the last couple of days started to fizzle away. I pulled the sleeves of the hoodie that I stole from Min Ho in the car up and walked in.

“Y/n honey!” my mom stood up to give me an embrace.

“How are you mom?” I asked, “I’ve missed you, and dad,” I said I took the seat opposite her.

She brushes her hair behind her ear, “Oh it’s been quite chaotic I do have to say,” she starts and grabs a menu, “But let’s order food first then I’ll explain,” she said, I swallowed down and even though I wanted to argue I chose not to, not yet.

The food arrived and it was delicious, mom was talking telling me about some work drama and my aunt’s new baby which was lovely, but she was avoiding whatever she came here to tell me about. After she laid down her cutlery and picked up her phone I spoke up.

“Mom, can you tell me what’s going on?” I asked nervously.

The look in her eyes when she looked up at me had my heart dropping, brows burrowing and worry painting itself over my face.

“Your dad and I are getting a divorce,”

The world stopped. It was like I’d heard her say the words, but they weren’t registering in my head.

“We’ve been separated since you went back to school after the break,”

“What? How long has this been going on?” I asked frantic.

Mom moved her hand over the table and grab mine, they were soft and warm, “About halfway through last semester, we- we’ve been trying to make it work but we’ve decided we’ll be happier this way,” she said, her thumb running over my skin was not comforting. In all truth it was making me feel nauseous.

I didn’t say another word, I grabbed my phone and stood up, putting it in my back pocket and ignoring my mom’s words, her calls out to me. The only thing I could see clearly was the door, I needed fresh air.

When I was outside I couldn’t stop walking, I headed towards the outside area of the restaurant, towards the back of the fenced land.

“L/n!” a voice called but I didn’t turn around.

“Y/n!” they called again, at this point I reached the end of the land looking outward tears rolling down my face.

“Y/n are you okay? What happened?” Min Ho was asking frantically looking me over.

“They’re getting a divorce,” I whispered, the phrase sounded foreign on my lips, “Which means it was all for nothing,”

His brows furrow and he steps closer, “What was for nothing?”

“My whole childhood I spent listening to them argue, being the one in the middle, smoothing out the creases, bring the common ground, it was all for nothing,” I said again and felt the tears doubling.

“It’s going to be okay, it’s going to get better,” he said and reached his arms wide towards me, I took a few deep breaths and let out a sob, before wrapping my arms around him and letting him pull me close as I cried into his chest, shaking my head in denial.

He brushed his fingers over my hair moving it out of my face, holding me tightly.

“You must think I’m such a mess. You definitely did not sign up for this,” I say trying to add a playful tone, but it came out more pathetic than anything.

“Y/n I’d be more worried if you weren’t reacting like this,” he said laying his chin on my head, “You’re” he paused momentarily, “You’re kind and caring and loyal and have had a lot of pressure put on you your whole life, it’s normal for you to feel like this, this panicking need to fix it, even when you know you can’t make everyone happy,” he explained and I could feel my heart start to slow as I followed his breathing subconsciously.

After another few moments I took another deep breath and pulled away, still holding onto the sides of his open denim jacket, and him the sleeves on the hoodie, not much further apart.

“Thank you,” I said, and he wiped the last of my tears off from under my eye.

“That’s what I’m here for,” he said and then his eyes went from my eyes to my lips and back up, I could feel him leaning closer and my body naturally reacted, as if it were a dance it knew well. Then his lips were on mine, and they were soft and warm, and moved at exactly the right pace. I kissed back without a second thought, poured everything I was feeling into it, he pulled me close to his body. That’s when the second thought came and I pulled away.

“Min Ho, stop, what are we doing?” I asked, running my hand over my forehead, everything in my head a big mixture of mixed emotions and I could feel the tears building up again, the pressure in my chest making my shoulders rise, “There’s no one here, no need to pretend,”

“Y/n”

“In fact, I think the mission has ran its course,” I started, “Marco’s not bothering me anymore, so thank you, for everything, really. But we’ve been avoiding this because we don’t want things to be weird, but I think it’s time to come back to reality,” the words felt like sandpaper in my throat, “we should head back,” I said looking at his face, such a mixture of emotions on his face that I couldn’t read them. I forced myself to walk past him, he didn’t follow straight away but then his steps echoed behind mine.

We sat in silence the whole way back to K.I.S.S and I got out the car before he could say anything, I rushed to my dorm only to be met with all three of the girls upon arrival. The second they spotted me, all faces concerned and I started to cry again. Greving my parents divorce and what felt like the loss of a friendship I so desperately didn’t want to end, my words were harsh, and I didn’t want to lose his him, but his face was a clear sign.

They all questioned what happened, Julianna made me a tea, Yuri brought in a blanket and Kitty cooed me in her arms. I didn’t mention Min Ho, I didn’t know how to go about that yet, I didn’t want to make either of us look like dickheads, ending this right after what I found out about my parents.

I managed to give myself a huge migraine, so I went to bed early, and fell asleep after crying for what felt like hours.

When I woke up in the middle of the night I looked at my phone to see the time, and what was a few messages from Min Ho.

(20:30) Posh boy: Are you feeling any better?

(20:58) Posh boy: Do you need anything? I can bring some chocolate or ice cream

(21:25) Posh boy: Please answer I’m worried about you

The last was sent a couple minutes ago,

(02:23) Posh boy: I know you’re asleep, but I’ve ordered your favourite tea and those biscuits that you love to steal from me, they should get here tomorrow

(03:00) Posh boy: Night L/n

I turned my phone back on its other side and turned around to face the other side in my bed, and forced myself to go back to sleep.

<3 <3 <3

I barley left the dorm for days, at the end of the weekend I sent an email to Alex explain the situation and explaining that I needed a few days, he accepted the request if I kept on top of the work. On Wednesday I went back to lessons, I hadn’t spoken to Min Ho since that day, he was probably avoiding me, just like I was avoiding him.

Josh and I had been texting a load since the night of the ball and I was staring to feel like maybe it could go somewhere, he respected that I needed some space right now but was already planning on some activities for us to do when I was up for it. It was making my heart hurt a little less.

When Friday rolled around, I knew I would have to face him: move night.

The girls got in their comfies in the evening and were grabbing the snacks we bought earlier in the day, ready to head out to the boy’s room. I was dreading it and if the girls realised, I was being quiet they didn’t say anything.

When we arrived all was pretty normal. We made hot drinks and put out the snacks. Min Ho didn’t say anything to me and I hadn’t engaged either. He was sitting in his usual spot on the side of the sofa but I took a seat on Kitty’s side and laid my head on her shoulder, she quickly laid her arm around me and put her head on mine, rubbing my arm to soothe me, to tell me she’s got me. I think they all knew something was off between Min Ho and I too, that it wasn’t just the divorce I was upset about anymore, but they we’re giving me time.

I paid very little attention to the film and was ready to leave as soon as it was over. When we were back into our room Kitty sighed and turned around to me, “What’s going on with you and Min Ho, you guys seemed off tonight?” she asked.

I turned to her quickly, “We’ve ended things,” I say quickly “I think we’re figuring out how to behave around each other again,” I said earnestly.

Kitty looked both confused and worried, “Did something happen? Don’t get me wrong I love the guy but if he hurt you, I swear,” she started coming over to sit on the edge of my bed.

I gave her a sad smile, “Kitty, we just didn’t work,” I said and everything about the look on her face said she didn’t believe me, but she took the hint when I slid down my pillow and wrapped myself up in my duvet.

On Monday when I was walking to Mr Moon’s class for managers when I overheard Kitty and Min Ho talking inside, I quickly stepped back and listened from outside.

“Min Ho you’re losing her, she was so happy, literally glowed when you guys first got together, what happened?” Kitty demanded, “and don’t tell me things just didn’t work out because I’ve already heard that excuse, be honest with me,”.

I could hear a shuffle, and Min Ho taking a deep breath, “I don’t think she’d want us to be having this conversation right now,” he said.

‘Min Ho whatever you did I can see in your eyes that you care for her, so fix it before it’s too late,” Kitty says softly this time, then there’s a silence, “Oh my god,” she continued, “It wasn’t you, she ended it,” Kitty said.

“No, Kitty come on, it was a mutual decision,” he tried to argue, he tried to put in some conviction into it, but the lie was coming out weak.

“Min Ho,” Kitty said with conviction, “If you care for her you’ve got to fight, one thing I’ve learned from Lara-Jeans is that love isn’t easy and doesn’t always start in the way you expect it to, but it is worth it,” she said.

“Oh, hey Y/n,” Praveena said coming up to me, I could hear shuffles in the classroom “I wonder what Mr Moons has planned for this lesson,” she said completely ordinarily.

“Sorry I’ve got to go,” I said walking away quickly.

Later that afternoon after lessons had finished, I was leaving the main building to head back to the dorm, we were all having dinner in the boy’s dorm tonight and I was already running late because I had to tutor and bless the girl, but she was clueless. I was trying to use my arms to shield my face as much as possible from the rain that chucking down.

Then I heard a voice shout out, I turned around to see Min Ho, waking towards me.

“Y/n!” he called out and I stopped in my tracks, “finally you give me the time of day,” he says sharply, his tone makes me stand up straighter, “firstly so much for staying friends and acting normal,” he said and then ran a hand through his hair, water dripping down his face, “secondly-”

I interrupted him, “I’m sorry,”

“Y/n/”

“Look I’ve been talking to Josh and I-” this time he tried to interrupt me but I prevailed “Min Ho, he’s a good guy and I think,” I sighed, running my tongue over my lips, “I could really like him, and there’s plenty of girls waiting for you to give them a chance, but this thing between us, we blurred the lines and we need to stop” I said with the frustration coming through, rain falling harshly down my face, this is already hard enough, to know this is going to end, so why is he making it harder, giving my heart beats of hope, “We both deserve something real,” I sounded tired, even to my own ears.

“Y/n I don’t want this to end,” his voice came out just above a whisper, and I felt my heartbeat triple.

“What?” I asked, quieter than I expected.

“Look I know this was not the plan, but- I went to the club that night because I saw Marco and his buddies leave and they were teasing him about finally making a move on you, so I followed them, but I didn’t know why yet, then somewhere in this whole situation I realised that I was jealous, then it became real and I realised I didn’t want it to end, and ever time you’d bring up that we we’re doing it because of Marco it crushed me,” he said and I just stated at him.

“I think I fell in love with you,” he said looking at me, the rain pouring down his face, “A little bit… or a lot,”.

My eyes scan his face frantically. Min Ho had fallen for me. Just like I had fallen for him. Before he could move or say anything else, I fling my arms around him and kiss him passionately, holding him as close as I possible could, and that was still not close enough.

“I love you too,” I said after I pulled away, laying my forehead against his, I could see him smile before I closed my eyes again and he pulled me into a tight embrace. It felt like the relief was coursing through both of our bodies.

“It’s good to hear you finally admit it,” he said back to his natural cockiness, “Everyone eventually falls for me, it’s my charm unfortunately,” he said.

“Well stop using it on other girls or I might get jealous,”

“You know what? That does kind of make me feel some sort of way, I quite like my imaginary version of you jealous and it’s quite hot,” he muses, and I just pull him in for another kiss, running my hands through his hair. His hands on my waist pulling me close.

Then when we came back into the building, whilst still soaked, we came clean to our friends, and whilst most of them were shocked Kitty was very offended, but all in all they were glad we worked it out because it was obvious long before this that there was something bubbling under the surface.

“I can’t believe you pulled a Lara-Jean on me! Now I’ve fallen for it twice,” Kitty said running her hand over her forehead.

“I think this means Y/n is taking over the title of chaos queen,” Q said shaking his head, and everyone started laughing, Min Ho had his arm around me, and I naturally leaned into his chest as I giggled, and he kissed my forehead.

#netflix #kitty song covey #minho xo kitty #xo kitty #min ho moon #min ho x reader #minho x you #min ho oneshot #xo kitty season 2

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whoreforsexymen · 3 days ago

Note

We need a part 2 for the jayce and viktor cuck fic😫

And now.... The fic you've all been waiting for.

Jayce Asking You To Cuck Him w/ Viktor | PT. 2

(Please feel free to read Part One if you haven't already <3)

Pairings: Jayce x Reader x Viktor

Pronouns: None used, can be read w/ whatever pronouns you prefer <3

Rating: NSFW, 18+, MDNI!! I am not responsible for your media consumption.

Word Count: 1.2k

Tags: Cucking, M/M/F, Slightly OOC Jayce + Viktor (if you squint?)

Summary: Jayce asks Viktor a burning question.

Notes: I'm so sorry this took me so long. I had no idea how to go about it. I know exactly how I wanna do the smut portion, but this conversation had me drawing blanks. There's no denying that Jayce and Viktor are gay as PHUCK for each other, and I was trying to figure out how to subtly include that in here. I hope I did it some justice.

STAY TUNED FOR PT. 3 WHICH WILL BE THE LONG-AWAITED SMUT <3

“Is it just because you want to see me naked?” Viktor teases, his voice a smooth blend of mirth and mischief, the words laced with just enough edge to leave Jayce floundering.

Jayce freezes, caught entirely off guard.

“No!” he blurts out, his voice too loud, echoing off the walls with an almost comical desperation.

Viktor raises a brow, faintly offended in a way that feels deliberate, a glimmer of amusement playing beneath his cool façade.

“I mean—no, it’s not that,” Jayce stammers, his hands flying up in a flurry of aborted gestures. “It’s just… the principle.” He coughs, awkwardly pinching the bridge of his nose as though the motion might magically summon coherence from the chaos of his thoughts.

From his perch, Viktor observes him, leaning casually on his cane with a posture that seems both effortless and deliberate. The faintest curve of a smirk graces his lips—a secret smile, as though he’s already won a game Jayce doesn’t realize they’re playing.

“Should I assume that ___ is privy to this… fantasy of yours?” Viktor inquires, his tone so smooth it could pass for idle curiosity, though his sharp gaze betrays the humor he’s enjoying at Jayce’s expense.

Jayce’s head snaps up, his expression a poster-child of shock and indignation.

“No!” he protests, his voice breaking free in a frantic echo of his earlier outburst. “I mean… No… ____ doesn’t know.. Yet.”

Viktor hums, the sound low and thoughtful, his golden eyes glinting like sunlight through smoked glass.

“I must admit, Jayce, this is an�� unusual request. I don’t often receive proposals like this—or, well, any of this nature, to be honest.”

His voice is calm, his words so precisely measured they feel surgical, and yet they land like pinpricks of amusement on Jayce’s fraying composure.

“You can say no,” Jayce rushes out, his voice earnest, tumbling over itself in its haste.

“It doesn’t have to happen. I just—”

He falters as Viktor silences him with a single glance, a gaze weighted with unspoken possibilities.

“I am a man of reason, Jayce,” Viktor murmurs, his words deliberate, teasing out the tension like an artisan pulling silk from thread.

“And it’s quite clear this is something you deeply desire. Besides…” He pauses, letting the moment stretch before delivering his conclusion with a faint, wicked curl of his lips.

“I never said no.”

Jayce’s face lights up with the unrestrained joy of a puppy hearing the word “treat.”

“Really? You mean it?” he exclaims, stumbling over his own excitement, his eyes alight with gratitude. “Viktor—that’s—I—”

Viktor interrupts with a wave of his hand, calm as ever despite the blush that blooms faintly at his cheeks—a rare and fleeting crack in his composure.

“I will… indulge your request,” he says, his voice steady, though tinged with something softer. “But only on one condition. ___ must be fully accepting of this arrangement as well. Since you have yet to mention it to (insert pronoun(s) here), I suggest you do so first. I may be a willing participant, but I am not the only one in this equation.”

Jayce nods fervently, stepping closer with an eagerness that borders on reverence.

“Of course—thank you, Viktor,” Jayce says, his voice warm with sincerity, the words spilling from him with such honesty that Viktor’s lips twitch, betraying a rare flicker of fondness beneath his usual aloofness.

“I’m not in need of thanks…” Viktor murmurs, his grip tightening around his cane as he uses it to push himself up from the chair with careful precision.

For a moment, he struggles, and when Jayce reaches out to help, Viktor waves him off with a gesture that mixes pride and playfulness.

“I’ve got it—thank you,” Viktor adds, his voice carrying that familiar edge of sass, a subtle challenge lingering in the air.

Jayce offers a quiet nod, watching with an understanding that speaks volumes, his gaze unwavering as Viktor stands tall and adjusts his clothes with an almost theatrical grace.

The two are now standing face-to-face, the height difference as pronounced as ever, Jayce’s gaze naturally falling downward as Viktor straightens himself, a silent tension building between them.

“Viktor, I—I feel like I need to thank you mo—”

“Please, don’t.” Viktor’s interruption is smooth, deliberate, and almost too quick. “After all, we’re partners.” His tone softens just slightly, but his eyes remain sharp, taking in the faintest shifts of Jayce’s expression, carefully examining the unspoken truths there.

Truthfully, Viktor hadn’t stood merely for the sake of formality. No, he had risen to peer into Jayce’s eyes, trying to read the true intentions behind such a request, to unravel the subtle mystery that now hung between them.

Jayce offers up yet another nod, a silent acceptance of Viktor’s independence.

"Tell me, Jayce… What led you to choose me? Was it simply because we’re partners?" he asks, his gaze locking with the taller man’s once again, searching intently for any secrets concealed within those eyes.

Jayce swallowed hard, as he often did whenever Viktor looked at him like this—peering straight into his soul with unnerving clarity. By now, it had become almost routine. Every deep conversation seemed to culminate in moments like these.

"Well, yeah. But not just that—" Jayce pauses for a moment, his voice faltering slightly as his hand rose to rest on Viktor's shoulder.

"There’s no one I trust more than you," he finished, his gaze locking with Viktor’s, sincerity shining through the bond they had carefully cultivated over the years.

The silence between them stretched, heavy yet unspoken, as Jayce’s hand lingered on Viktor’s shoulder. Their eyes remained locked, a connection so intense it felt immovable—unbreakable, even if a stampede were to crash through the lab doors.

Viktor felt a tightness coiling in his gut, unfamiliar and unsettling. He struggled to keep his composure, almost appalled by how much effort it took to suppress the warmth threatening to bloom on his cheeks.

Viktor had debated saying more, asking more, but he held his tongue. This moment was already overwhelming enough, and pushing further would only complicate it. He knew, deep down, that if he truly cared for Jayce—and he did—he would honor what his friend was asking of him. There was no room for hesitation in that resolve.

All Viktor could muster was a single nod, mirroring the ones Jayce had given him before.

"Much appreciated, Jayce," Viktor murmured, his partner’s name slipping from his lips like honey—thick and sweet, seeping into the air between them.

Before Jayce could respond, Viktor interjected for what felt like the hundredth time that afternoon.

“Please—say no more. You need to go to ____,” he urged, his tone soft yet insistent.

Jayce hesitated, giving Viktor a puzzled glance that lingered just a second too long. For a fleeting moment, Viktor thought he saw something beneath the other man’s gaze, something he couldn’t quite place. But it vanished before he could decipher it, leaving behind only the tightening knot in his stomach. That flicker of hope had come and gone, like a wave retreating back into the sea, leaving him stranded on the shore.

Without another word, Jayce turned to leave, his fingers brushing against Viktor’s shoulder as if reluctant to part. The touch lingered until he pivoted fully, his back now to Viktor.

And then, just as quickly as he’d arrived, Jayce was gone—vanishing beyond the doorway, leaving Viktor alone once more.

PT. 3 COMING SOOOOOOOOOON. <3

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myrrusstuff · 3 days ago

Text

A winters night.

. . . Caitlyn x Reader.

CW: SFW, a bit suggestive & references to sex briefly, but it’s mainly fluff. A bit of comfort (r!receiving). Caitlyn walks in on you baking her a surprise on your anniversary. :^)

WC: 1.06K | CC: 5.7K | Proofread: No.. | Notes: this is my first time writing a reader x character fic. One of my first times writing romance at all, actually. I normally write warrior cats. But I wanna branch out to my other interests, one of which is arcane. I hope you like it! | MEN DNI.

It’s starting to get late out, the sun setting. The kitchen’s dim candles are the only things leaving the room barley visible, although, you don’t go to turn the main light on. You’re much too busy for that. You’re working hard making a pie for your girlfriend, Caitlyn. It’s Apple and cinnamon, her favourite. It also happens to be the same dish you made her on your first date. You had worried you’d come onto her too hard, but much to your surprise, she was impressed.

While sprinkling the cinnamon onto the apple mixture, your mind can’t help but drift to Caitlyn. "I wonder what she’s doing right now?" you ask yourself. She’s still at work, you’re positive of that. At least you think you are. You shake your head slightly, as if it’d help you clear your mind. You have to finish the pie before she gets home, even if it’s the last thing you do.

You slowly mix the pie filling, folding it. As you do, you notice the time. "7:30.." you murmur, gulping. Caitlyn finishes work at 7:00 on Tuesdays, she’d be home soon. "Shit, shit, shit." you think to yourself, your breath strained. You try to press on, working harder, faster.

15 minuets later, as you’re beginning to plat the top-crust of the pie, you hear the front door creek open. Is Cait home already? She can’t be, you’re not ready. This isn’t how you had planned it. You were meant to present her with a slice of her favourite pie as she came home from work, snuggling up to her on the couch as you play a movie you both enjoy. This is not what was meant to happen, she wasn’t meant to be home yet. Had it been a Monday, Thursday, or even Friday, she’d be home at 9:00. You’d have more than enough time to finish your plan. But on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, you’re not so lucky.

Before you can start to panic, Caitlyn drops her bag off on the couch. She begins to slide off her uniform, and your gaze immediately begins to take in her curves. Her under-shirt rides up slightly, revealing the soft skin of her stomach. You feel almost sad as she pulls it back down, folding her uniform neatly as she hangs it up to wash later. You gulp, caught off-guard.

"Y/N, you home?" Caitlyn calls out, due to you not greeting her. Suddenly, you realise you hadn’t even said hello. You yell out quickly, almost shakily "I’m in the kitchen! Welcome home, honey!". How hadn’t you done that when she first walked in? You always do. Well.. you know why. You remember the sight seeing you did earlier. How could you not? The way her shirt clung to her body..

Your thoughts are cut off as she walks into the kitchen, she reaches for her ponytail, undoing it. Her eyebrow tilts as she realises you’re baking, a soft grin forming on her face. "What’re you making?" She asks, walking up to you. Her arm wraps around your waist, her hair brushing against your neck. "What do you think it is?" You tease, looking down at the pie. Caitlyn scoffs slightly, before tugging your waist slightly, pulling you against her. "Is it really the pie?". Her phrasing makes you giggle slightly, your hand reaching to cover your mouth. As you do so, her hand meets yours, moving it away from your lips. "Now, don’t go covering such a pretty sight."

The air practically became thicker, a slight blush creeping up your neck. She breaks the silence with a quick peck on the lips, as you lean into it you feel it deepen. Suddenly, you break away from the kiss. "I have to finish baking. How about we.. continue this after?" You explain to her about wanting the pie to be done earlier, but forgot to makeup for her early finish from work. She reaches to cup your cheek, turning you to face her. Her thumb strokes close to your lips. "It’s a sweet gesture, don’t upset yourself."

You smile softly, noticing the sincerity in her eyes. She’s really not mad. You start to think about it, why would you assume she’d be mad in the first place? Caitlyn has always been sweet to you, always patient. You kiss her softly, before quickly turning back around, hiding the stunned look on your face. She lets out a small laugh, her hand still resting on your waist. She watches with awe as you bake, "I’m so glad you can cook, because I sure as hell can’t. Thank you for this, by the way."

You don’t turn to face her while replying, clearly still engrossed in baking, "I was planning to make something, it’s our anniversary after all. And the thought of pie reminded me of you." you admit with a smile. "Well isn’t that cute," she nudges your hip, before releasing it. "Let me help you with that." she moves to the side of you, gently taking the pie out of your hands. She bends down by the oven, putting it in with a smile before turning to you, "there, now I can have your full attention."

As the night wares on, you watch a movie with Caitlyn. It’s Scream, a shared favourite. You still flinch every time at the jumpscares, your nails digging into Caitlyn’s shirt. Her arms drape around you before pulling you closer. "Scaredy-cat, huh?", she teases. It causes you to smile slightly, amused by her tone. For the rest of the movie, you cling to her tighter. She mocks you for it, but you can tell she secretly loves having you in her arms. She plants a kiss on your forehead, holding you closer than ever. You start to wonder, would tonight be the night? The night you two finally.. you know. You shake your head, burying it in her neck as the next jumpscare hits. As time passes, your eyes begin to feel droopy, and you can’t help but think you could stay like this forever. Your body begins to relax into Caitlyn’s touch, her hand stroking your hair. She smiles softly at you as you begin to fall asleep, your eyes fluttering to a close.

Maybe another time. Tonight, you just want to be held, and she just wants to show you how much she cares for you.

This is reposted from my old blog: @myrruwrites. This was my first fanfic I’ve like, ever written about people. Before this I mainly wrote warrior cats and stuff like that. This fanfic is also pretty old,, but I’m re posting all my writing onto this blog

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lvrrgirlll · 2 days ago

Text

Knight in Shining Armor

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

Pairing: medieval princess ! reader x knight ! Patrick Zweig

Word count: 3k

Warnings: smut, p in v, fem reader, knives mentioned (briefly in a nightmare?), some Christian biblical imagery and mentions of sin/religious related guilt (I was playing into the whole medieval royalty thing idk)

Notes: Thank you guys for all the love on the moodboard/little blurb on this!!! Without all the support I wouldn’t have been inspired to go crazy and write this (I fear this will seem like the most pretentious fic ever written bc I really lent into the medieval thing so the language feels kinda crazy at some points…idk, if y’all were rocking with the last one, you’ll probably rock with this lol) Enjoy!!

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

You did your best to avoid Patrick in court the following days. You were unsure if you could even face him after your dream. But, of course, nothing can last forever. An attempted attack on your wing of the castle (which was, thankfully, stopped by the valiance of Sir Patrick) led to a change that would greatly affect your fate.

As you entered the grand hall of the castle to take your seat in court, you noticed Sir Patrick in his armor —something rather unusual to see in the castle, though you didn't mind— speaking to your father, metal helmet in hand. Your father had always favored Patrick, you presumed for his determination and natural swagger, and acted as such. He was the head knight of the royal guard and spoke with the King frequently. Taking notice of your presence, your father addressed you whilst you curtsied. “Good daughter, what fortune you arrive now of all times. In light of the attack on your wing, I have decided to appoint Sir Patrick himself to be your personal guard. Your safety is of the utmost importance to me and this entire kingdom. It is only right I appoint our best knight.” Your father smiled warmly at Patrick then.

“I thank you, your majesty,” Patrick bows before the King. “I shall be prepared to risk my life for the life of our princess.” At that, he turns to you, offering a look so secretly smug you have trouble maintaining your composure. You simply smile and nod, silently acknowledging the workings of your father and the knight that now create a great dilemma for you.

“Father, I am suddenly feeling quite faint. Might I take my leave and rest for the afternoon?” You just want to get away from him. He’s dangerous. You can hardly control yourself around him. And what’s worse is he knows it.

Your father, concerned, approves of your leave, though you feel dismayed when Sir Patrick follows you. “I am perfectly capable of making my way back, myself. Thank you, sir,” you offer, trying to be as strict as you can, for your own sake more than his.

“M’lady, perhaps you did not understand. As your personal guard, I am tasked with protecting you at all times. This would require that I be with you at all times. The King wills it so.” He speaks formally though his tone is far too pleased to be merely dutiful. You had not considered that. Sighing, you merely nod in understanding before turning again to return to your room.

In your room, Patrick takes his station directly outside the door. “I am only a moment away. Do not hesitate should you need me.” He may not know exactly how you may need him…

You nod, though, smiling softly before closing the door, creating a divide between the two of you. You are overcome by desire. You feel dirty, guilty, and wrong…but you know he feels the same. And he is noble; he is a gentleman…would it be so bad if you acted on your feelings? God, you feel foolish. You have hardly spoken to him in the years he has served at the castle. What feelings could you really be harboring?

Sick of your racing thoughts, you resolve that a nap would be the best right now. In your sleep, though, you dream of enemies breaking through your windows and climbing up the tower of your wing. It is utterly terrifying. You can feel yourself stirring, heart racing and sweating profusely, as your subconscious plays tricks on you. In your nightmare, a cloaked figure, face hidden in the shadows of his hood, plunges a dagger through your heart, causing you to lurch awake with a loud cry. You are breathing heavily, trying to adjust to your new, real surroundings and shake the terror of the dream when you hear Sir Patrick through the door.

“Your Majesty? Are you alright…?” You do not answer, still shaken and attempting to compose yourself. “I am entering, m'lady.” And before you can tell him not to, that you’re alright, Patrick burst through the door, already reaching for his sword. Seeing you are merely sat in bed, his urgency leaves him, concern taking over. “Is there not a threat?” He observes, then, the state you are in. Dressed only in your thin, white nightgown (which has grown somewhat see-through on account of your nightmare induced sweat soaking through the fabric), Patrick is reduced to nothing but a mere man in love, forgetting himself entirely. Unbeknownst to you, he adjusts himself in his trousers, clearing his throat.

The room is illuminated only by the cold, pale light of the moon shining through your large paned windows. Shadows dance across his features as a breeze blows the trees outside steadily. He has never looked more beautiful. Both concern and lust play on his face, leaving you to squirm just a bit more than you normally would have under his gaze. Looking down then, you reply, embarrassed. “Forgive me for my foolishness. There is no present threat. I am sorry to have wasted your time and effort, good sir.” You bow your head in remorse. This on its own is a sign of you respect for the knight before you. Technically, he should be bowing to you, but under his gaze you feel so small, yet so regarded at the same time. It is unlike with any other man, though it is rare you interact with many often anyways. You lift your head, meeting his eyes again and feeling your stomach flip.

A pang of guilt runs through you as you realize you are noticeably smiling at him. Despite his nobility, you believe the two of you would never be. The only way your union: emotional, physical, spiritual, or (more officially) marital would ever occur would be if your father willed it. And though Sir Patrick was your father’s right hand man, it was the relationship of that of an employer and his best employee, not that of father and son nor of old companions.

Your smile dropped and so did his. He knew what he was doing, his silent, unspoken, but clear pursuit of you ever since that fateful night was wrong. But he did not care. He had no regard for his own life or death, he was a knight, after all. He risked himself for this kingdom, he would be willing to risk himself for you. He brought a hand up, cupping your face in his large palm, and offering you a sorry smile. “To defend you, threat or no threat, is my life’s honor, m’lady. You have wasted nothing of mine.” His hand brushed your ear as he tucked your hair behind it. Seeing you with your hair down for the first time was something entirely new to him, similar to when you first saw him shirtless that night. In typical court fashion, you would never leave your chambers with your hair fully down. Seeing you so bare, so honest, and unadorned felt novelty. He was grateful for his wit, being able to convince the King that he should serve you personally.

You, however, were so deeply conflicted. You knew better. Your station in society as well as in life did not allow for these endeavors. But your mind, you body, your heart…they longed for your knight in shining armor. His touch, though somewhat chaste, only holding your head in his hands, felt deeply intimate. You considered your options. “Sir, might I ask your discretion in asking a favor?” Your felt fearful of your own desires, but conjured up as much confidence as possible.

“Always, m’lady.”

You tugged your bottom lip into your mouth for a moment, before continuing. “M- might you…kiss me?” It was hard to maintain your composure, overcome with shame as you looked up pleadingly into his eyes. It was only the two of you in your bedchamber, the door closed —yet another forbidden thing.

Softening, a smirk gracing his features, he sighed. “I would be a fool not to.” This was exactly what he had been wanting since he first saw a portrait of you. The strength required of his position kept his feelings concealed, but in this one, small moment alone with you, he could reveal them. He leaned in slowly, closing the gap between you as his lips move against yours feverishly. You can feel his tongue dart out and wet your bottom lip, but you pull away quickly before he is able to deepen the kiss.

“I am sorry. This is…” you search for the words, not wanting to be so harsh but wanting to be clear. “This is sinful.” Your eyes meet his, pleading for him to offer you a reprieve from your consuming feelings by distancing himself. Though, that twinkle behind your eyes and in the corner of your lips betrayed you. He could see you had fallen for him the same as he for you.

He takes a seat next to you on your bed, looking into your eyes earnestly. “If I it is a sin to touch you, I would become a sinner every day till I am dragged to hell, should you allow me?” He was begging you to let him touch you, feel you, love you. And who would you be to deny him?

You were quiet for a moment, considering your fate and whether or not you would be able to find absolution after giving in. Throwing caution to the wind, you allow yourself, for once, to make your own decisions. "Please, good sir. Touch me. Take me, for I am all yours."

He wasted no time, leaning in to kiss you, his armor clanging against itself as he did so. The kiss was passionate, the years of admiring you from afar being poured out in this one moment. Breaking the kiss, suddenly, he stood, leaving you confused until he began swiftly removing his armor. He made sure to set each piece down gently, so as not to alert and servants lingering nearby of his presence in your chambers. You tried to stifle your smile as his form was revealed more and more with each layer of metal gone. It was new and exciting, and his gentleness despite his clear eagerness was unbelievably admirable.

Once he had removed it all, clad only in a white linen undershirt and trousers, he returned to your bed, leaning over you and pulling you into another deep kiss. This time, he slipped his tongue into your mouth, licking softly into it, his nose brushing against your cheek as he pressed closer into you, as if he longed for your two bodies to be one. It was impossible to be any closer, but you did not mind one bit. Though timid at first, your kisses matched his fervor. You could feel his calloused hand combing through your hair as his other snuck lower, carressing you through your nightgown. You let out a shivered breath at his touch.

"Is this alright, my lady?" He pulled back, looking into your eyes longingly. God, forgive you, but you needed this so badly. You both did.

You nodded, lifting your hips to gather your nightgown up and off of you, casting it aside carelessly. Now, you really felt exposed. But something about Patrick made you want to feel honest; made you want to seek pleasure shamelessly. His eyes widened in tandem with his smirk. He was so pleased and so in love.

"I've never...I-...I'm a virgin," you admitted, looking up at him through your thick lashes. His smile only widened, but not in some sort of sick, smarmy way. It was genuine and kind.

"Oh, I know, your highness. Or...I imagined as much. Not to worry, I am well aware of how to please a woman," he spoke softly, trying not to intimidate you. You would have taken offense at his mention of his previous experience, but you had imagined he was experienced in the first place, as many men and knights of his age are by now. It is different for you, a princess, always expected to remain pure. With him, you did not fear impurity after this. You felt strongly that you would steadfast remain pure in his eyes till the end of time.

He leaned in again, placing hot kisses along your neck. He moved to remove his trousers as he did so, working at the string that held them up quickly. As he did so, your fingers found their way to the tie that held his shirt together, pulling at the string with a new confidence, you brought your hands to the hem and he pulled away from your neck to remove his shirt. Both his bandages and bruises were gone, a good sign, but there was a scar where he had been scratched, a reminder of your previous encounter.

His trousers finally hanging low around his legs, he teased himself around your entrance, causing you to jolt and whimper beneath him. The feeling was entirely foreign but oh so enchanting. He reached a hand down, running his fingers through your folds, smirking at the wetness that gathered on his fingers. "You are like the Lady of The Lake...beautiful, otherworldly, and so, so wet..." Patrick murmured lustfully. It was such a dirty compliment, but you were so deeply moved.

Like your dream, you were both under your layers upon layers of white sheets, so warm, close, and intimate. His fingers danced around your clit, circling it at an agonizingly slow pace. You gasped, sucking in a breath quickly and biting your lip so as not to make any more sound. He did not miss this, leaning in to peck you on the lips before reminding you "The walls are stone, the door thick oak and iron. We should be cautious, yes, but you mustn't be embarrassed to make a sound. It is better, in fact, if you do."

His reassurance brought a smile to your face as you dropped your lip from your teeth, a sign that you were allowing yourself the honesty you so craved with Patrick. He resumed his hand movements around your most sensitive spot, causing you to let out a symphony of high pitched gasps. His fingers moved away then, moving down and slipping inside of you, first one, then another. The stretch was unfamiliar and hurt a bit, something your scrunched eyebrows didn't hide, but he did not move them for a moment, allowing you to adjust. "All will be well," he cooed into your ear, lips brushing against your skin. "I just need to warm you up."

His fingers began to move, first only in and out at a steady pace, but soon replaced by him scissoring his fingers deep inside of you, your walls squuezing him tightly. "Good sir..." you sighed in pleasure.

"Patrick," he corrected. "You may call me by my God given name: Patrick."

"Patrick..." you sighed again as he quickened the pace of his fingers. To your surprise, though, he pulled his fingers out abruptly. You almost protested, but he swiftly replaced his fingers with his cock, pushing lightly at your entrance.

"May I," he asked, looking into you eyes unwaveringly.

"Please," you nearly moaned in response. He followed your request, sheathing himself inside of you slowly, allowing you time to adjust to the thickness and length that so differed from that of his fingers. He watched your reaction carefully, taking in the way your breath hitches and your eyes flutter shut, eyebrows knitting together in both pleasure and pain. You inhaled sharply as he bottoms out, feeling as if he was practically prodding at your stomach.

"Are you ready for me to move," he inquired, eyes lidded and breathing already heavy in awe of you beneath him.

Looking up at him then, as if he were an angel or possibly some type of temptation sent by the devil that you had so easily fallen for, like Eve and the apple, you yearned to take a bite. "Patrick," it felt unfamiliar to address him so informally, but there was an undeniable intimacy in doing so as well. "If I should wait any longer it may kill me."

With that, he began moving, his pace quick but not agonizing, instead quite tender. You cried out, moans, sighs, and gasps leaving your lips repeatedly as his hips met yours time and time again. His gaze didn't leave yours, except when he would close his eyes, losing himself in a particularly deep thrust. His skin on yours was warm, a stark difference from your naturally cold body. "God, Princess, you are better than I've ever imagined."

The thought that he had imagined this with you made you feel elated, but you couldn't even bring yourself to offer a witty reply, overtaken by pleasure. "P- Patrick," you moaned, your whole body feeling hot suddenly. He quickened his pace just a bit, leaning in to suck at your neck as his other hand came up to toy with your hardened nipples. It felt so sinful but so perfect and right. How could something this good ever be wrong?

At his added touch, hips still pistoning in and out of you, it all felt like too much. Your stomach began to tighten, walls clenched tightly around him, bringing him to an almost sorry state as his jaw went slack, eyes closing suddenly and his thrusts becoming sloppier. It was impossible to restrain yourself as your hips began bucking up to meet his. "Please, please, please," you didn't even know what you were asking for but you knew you needed it.

"I'm there too, Princess. Come on, let's finish together..." he moved his hand from your chest to you clit, rubbing swift circles as he slammed his hips into yours. Pleasure finally overtook you entirely as you fluttered around him, body stiffening and falling weak as you reach your high. He pulled out of you quickly, his hand moving to finish himself off lazily on your stomach through stifled grunts. When you were both completely spent, he momentarily laid next to you in bed, both of you looking up at the grand vaulted ceilings of your bedchambers.

"Thank you, Patrick, for showing me a kindness I should never know how to repay," you whisper softly. He sits up slightly, turning to you and offering a chaste kiss to your cheek.

"You should never have to 'repay' me. After all, I live to serve you, my dear Princess."

#again asking you all to walk with me #knight Patrick to me is just so yum I hope y’all get it #also got to put to use my knowledge of Arthurian folklore for a little reference in here lolz #cordelia writes #medieval fantasy au #challengers #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig fic #challengers fic #patrick zweig fluff #patrick zweig smut

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yelenasdiary · 3 days ago

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hiii! I'm a big fan of yours !!

Can I request ? Bcs like I love Agatha but I barely find fluff of her it's just smut, I know it's good but we need fluff 2!!!

( something very domestic fluff, maybe based on wandavison Agatha! )

Little Temptress

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Fem! Reader

Summary: A relaxing afternoon with Agatha.

Fluff

Warnings: Slight suggestive themes? Talks of skinny dipping/being naked. | 0.8K

AC: Thank you for sending this! I hope you enjoy! x

The late afternoon sun casted a long, warm shadows across the living room of the Harkness house in Westview. You were curled up on the sofa with a worn-out book in your lap, the sun’s warmth distracting you from the words in front of you. Enjoying the gentle breeze that drifted through the open window.

Agatha was in the kitchen, softly humming a tuneless melody while she moved about, wanting to make you a warm mug of tea to drink while you read your book. The world outside never really saw this soft side of Agatha. To them, she was a loving neighbor who loved a bit of gossip and always had a sarcastic remark for everything.

“Extra milk, just how you like it” she said, her voice low and soft not to disturb you too much.

You smiled, taking the mug from her, “you read my mind! Thanks, honey”

“Call it my sixth sense!” The woman with long wavy brown hair winked.

You chuckled at her playful remark, “it’s a bit too quiet today, don’t you think?” You asked.

Agatha lightly shrugged, “Honey, you should hear the rambling Dottie was going on about today! And between you and I, something weird is happening at the Maximoff house”

“How so?” You questioned with a light frown and a quick sip of your tea.

“It’s practically humming with… chaotic potential” she said, taking a seat beside you.

You raised a brow, “humming? You mean like a refrigerator?”

“Oh, far more dramatic than that” she chuckled, “Vision seems to be on edge a lot” she added.

“Well, I’m sure with you keeping an eye on them, they’ll be fine” you teased, you always teased her about being the neighborhoods watch dog. She chuckled once more, “somebody has too”

You hummed at her words before taking another small sip of your tea. Almost naturally, Agatha gently placed a hand on top of your knee, “so, what would you like do on the weekend, hot stuff?”

“Mmm, what about we go out for lunch tomorrow?” You suggested, “I heard there’s a new Greek restaurant in town”

Agatha smiled softly, “I’m listening” she said she with a raised brow

“I also need to stop at the hardware store to get some gardening supplies, so maybe we could do that after” you replied, stretching your legs and carefully placing your mug on the coffee table.

“Or, instead of you getting attacked by the rose bushes again, we could do a picnic by the creek?” Agatha suggested with her lips curling into a knowing smile.

“A picnic? With you? You hate things like” you looked at her.

“If the mood strikes, we could skinny dip”

“Ahh, right” you chuckled, shaking your head playfully at her before straddling her lap, “and why would skinny dipping be on your list of things to do?” You asked. Her hands resting on your hips as she looked up at you with a mischief grin on her lips. “Oh honey, it’s not for me. I know how much you’ve wanted to go skinny dipping before, my little temptress”.

“Or is this just your way to see me naked?” You cocked a brow at her. Agatha chuckled, “honey, I don’t need to take you skinny dipping to see you naked, we save water every morning” she reminded you.

You leaned closer, your nose almost touching hers, a smirk playing on your own lips. "So, it's purely out of the goodness of your heart then?" You purred, your fingers teasing the edge of her shirt. "You're just selflessly fulfilling my deepest desires?"

Agatha’s grin widened, “something like that” she said. Her fingers now tracing lazy circles on your hips, sending a shiver down your spine. “Though I must admire, the thought of you splashing around all bare and breathtaking….it’s rather appealing image” her voice dropped that made your heart skip a beat.

“Breathtaking, hmm?” You repeated, one hand going to cup her cheek, “and you expect me to believe that’s the only reason?” You lowered your head until your lips were a breath away from hers. She tilted her head slightly, her gaze locking with yours, “alright, maybe there is a tiny benefit in it for me” she said in an almost whisper before your lips locked with hers. Her fingers tightened on your hips, deepening the kiss while the image of skinny dipping flashed through her mind.

Pulling away, you smiled against her lips, “well, who am I to deny a little selflessness?” You nuzzled into her neck, breaking in her familiar scent. There was no need for further discussion. A silent agreement passed between the two of you. The afternoon was spent in each other's arms, enjoying the peace that comforted the two of you. Agatha, not that she was a great one, cooked dinner for you both to enjoy while making her watch a trashy rom-com.

“Honey, promise me one thing” you looked up at her.

“What’s that cutie?” She asked.

“Don’t cook anything for our picnic” you chuckled, making her playfully roll her eyes at you. “I was going to get Wanda to whip something up” she confessed.

“Of course you were” you replied, still giggling at her reaction.

If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.

#yelenasdiary asks #anon #fanfiction #marvel #Agatha harkness #Agatha harkness x reader #Agatha harkness x you #Agatha all along

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antinousletmehit · 1 day ago

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˚₊‧꒰ა Chapter 28 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

୨୧┇pairing: Telemachus x reader

୨୧┇mostly gonna be a filler chapter with acrisios

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

Acrisios leaned against the railing of the palace’s outer courtyard, enjoying the cool breeze that carried the scent of the sea. Telemachus sat beside him on a stone bench, his legs sprawled out lazily as he toyed with a dagger, tossing it between his hands.

“So, Acrisios,” Telemachus began, his voice light but clearly mischievous. “You’ve been oddly quiet lately. A bit distracted, I’d say.”

Acrisios side eyed him, already sensing where this was going. “I’m not distracted. You’re just louder than usual.”

Telemachus smirked. “Oh, I’m plenty loud, but not as loud as your heart probably is whenever you think about Lethea.” He dragged her name out teasingly, watching as Acrisios visibly stiffened.

Acrisios tried to play it cool, but the flush creeping up his neck betrayed him. “What are you on about now?” he muttered, looking out at the horizon as if it would save him.

“Don’t act dumb,” Telemachus said, nudging his friend’s arm. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. The thin girl with the classy walk, always looking like she belongs in the heavens with the Olympians.” He grinned as Acrisios groaned and rubbed a hand down his face.

“Don’t start,” Acrisios warned, but it only fueled Telemachus further.

“I mean, seriously,” Telemachus continued, his tone mockingly dreamy. “She’s so proper, so pristine. And you… well, you’re a sailor’s son who smells like saltwater half the time.”

Acrisios turned to glare at him. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, friend.”

“Don’t take it the wrong way,” Telemachus said with a laugh. “It’s just… Lethea? Really? I can’t picture her even looking at you without flinching, let alone returning your feelings.”

Acrisios crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. “And yet I’d bet she’d look at me with more interest than Y/N looked at you before your pillow incident.”

Telemachus froze, his smirk faltering as his face turned crimson. “That—was—different!” he stammered. “We’re not talking about me!”

“No,” Acrisios shot back, his smirk returning. “We’re talking about you shutting up before I throw you into the ocean.”

Telemachus rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop laughing. “Fine, fine. But seriously, you’ve got to tell me—how’d you even meet her? Did she drop a handkerchief, and you picked it up all gallantly?”

Acrisios sighed, clearly reluctant to share. “It was nothing like that,” he said, his voice quieter. “Her father’s religious practices take him near the docks sometimes. I… ran into her there, helping some workers distribute offerings.”

“And what? She smiled at you, and suddenly you’re writing ballads about her?” Telemachus teased, though there was a genuine curiosity behind his tone.

“No ballads,” Acrisios muttered, though his ears turned red. “But she… she’s different, alright? She has this presence, this way of holding herself. It’s like she’s untouchable, but she doesn’t look down on anyone. And those little strands of hair sticking out from under her veil?” He shook his head. “They drive me insane.”

Telemachus let out a low whistle. “Wow. You’ve really got it bad, don’t you?”

“Shut up.” Acrisios pushed him lightly, though there was no real force behind it.

Telemachus leaned back, grinning. “I’ll admit, she sounds like a goddess. Maybe I should meet her myself. Who knows? She might think I’m more her type.”

Acrisios’s glare could have cut stone. “If you so much as breathe in her direction, I swear—”

Telemachus raised his hands in surrender, laughing. “Relax, sailor boy. She’s all yours. Just… good luck convincing her father that you’re worthy.”

Acrisios sighed heavily, leaning his head back against the railing. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Telemachus watched his friend with a smirk, but there was a glimmer of respect in his eyes. “You’ll figure it out. If she’s really as amazing as you say, you’ll find a way to reach her. Even if you do smell like fish half the time.”

Acrisios shoved him again, but this time he couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at his lips.

——

Acrisios leaned against the edge of the palace balcony, gazing at the distant horizon, his mind far away from the bustling noise of the palace. He wasn’t thinking about the sea this time, though. No, his thoughts were focused on her. Lethea. The way her veil delicately framed her face, those stray strands of hair that peeked out like golden threads from beneath it, and the serene, almost ethereal way she carried herself.

“She’s so…” Acrisios murmured, almost to himself, before catching the faintest sound of muffled snickering behind him.

He turned to see Telemachus leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed, and the widest grin plastered across his face. “So what, Acrisios? Pretty? Divine? A walking poem?”

Acrisios groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Do you always have to sneak up on me?”

“Well, when you’re standing here, looking all dazed and dreamy, it’s hard not to,” Telemachus shot back, laughing. “I’ve never seen you like this, Acrisios. You’re smitten! Absolutely smitten!”

“I’m not smitten,” Acrisios muttered, his cheeks flushing.

Telemachus gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Not smitten? You’ve been standing here staring at the sky for an hour, probably imagining her descending from Mount Olympus, all glowy and perfect!” He stepped closer, eyes wide with mock excitement. “Do you write her name in the sand when no one’s looking? Or carve it into the mast of the ship? Tell me!”

Acrisios shoved him lightly. “I don’t do that. And stop making such a big deal about it.”

Telemachus wasn’t deterred in the slightest. “Oh, no, this is a huge deal. You, Mr. Rough-and-Tough-Sailor, have a crush! And not just on any girl—on the daughter of a religious man, all classy and proper. You’re in trouble, my friend.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” Acrisios grumbled, though his lips twitched as if suppressing a smile.

“But seriously,” Telemachus continued, his grin turning a bit softer. “What is it about her? You’ve seen plenty of women at the ports. Why her?”

Acrisios hesitated for a moment, leaning back against the railing as he looked up at the sky. “She’s… different. Most people look at someone like me—a sailor’s son—and see nothing worth their time. But Lethea doesn’t. She… sees people, you know? Like she really looks at you. And she’s just so—” He paused, searching for the right word.

“Beautiful,” Telemachus finished for him, his grin returning.

“More than that,” Acrisios said, his voice quieter. “She’s like… sunlight. Warm, but not overwhelming. Just enough to make you want to stand in it a little longer.”

Telemachus froze, blinking at his friend before letting out an exaggerated squeal. “Oh my gods, Acrisios, you’re hopeless! This is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard! I can’t believe it. You’re actually—wait, wait, I need a moment.” He pretended to fan himself as if overwhelmed by the sentiment.

“Are you done?” Acrisios asked, though he was clearly fighting back his own laughter.

“Absolutely not,” Telemachus declared. “I’m going to tell everyone.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Acrisios growled, narrowing his eyes.

“Oh, I so would,” Telemachus shot back, still laughing. “But don’t worry, I won’t. For now.” He clapped Acrisios on the shoulder, grinning. “I’ve got to admit, though. You’re really into her, huh?”

Acrisios sighed, shaking his head but smiling slightly. “Yeah.

——

Acrisios leaned back in his chair, propping his boots up on the low table in Telemachus’s room. The two had been lounging for a while, enjoying a rare moment of peace. Acrisios took a sip of his wine, smirking as he glanced at Telemachus, who was sprawled out on the bed with his tunic messily half buttoned and his hair a wild, unkempt mop.

“You know,” Acrisios began, his voice dripping with mock seriousness, “it’s kind of amazing.”

Telemachus turned his head lazily, raising an eyebrow. “What’s amazing?”

“That in less than a month, you’re going to be married. To Y/N. Y/N. The daughter of the enemy. And not just married, married and crowned as king of Ithaca. And yet,” he gestured dramatically at Telemachus’s appearance, “you still look like a drunken sailor who’s been shipwrecked for a week.”

Telemachus snorted, throwing a pillow at him. “Oh, shut up.”

Acrisios dodged the pillow with ease, laughing. “No, seriously, how does Y/N put up with you? Does she think this whole ‘slob aesthetic’ is charming or something? I mean even Antinous has more manners.”

Telemachus groaned, sitting up and running a hand through his hair, making it even messier. “It’s not that bad.”

Acrisios pointed at the half-eaten loaf of bread sitting on the floor next to the bed. “You’ve got crumbs everywhere, your tunic’s hanging on for dear life, and I’m pretty sure your sandals are mismatched. Are you planning to show up to your wedding like this? Because if so, I want a front-row seat for Y/N’s reaction.”

Telemachus threw another pillow, this time hitting Acrisios square in the chest. “I’ll clean up, okay? Gods, you sound like my mother.”

Acrisios grinned, tossing the pillow back onto the bed. “I’m just saying, Telemachus, kings are supposed to look… regal. You? You’re one step away from being mistaken for a stable boy.”

Telemachus rolled his eyes. “What do you know about being a king? You’re a sailor’s son.”

“And yet I’ve got better manners than you,” Acrisios shot back, smirking. “At least I know how to brush my hair.”

Telemachus groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “Why are you even here? Don’t you have a ship to catch or something?”

“Nope,” Acrisios said cheerfully, crossing his arms behind his head. “I’m here to make sure you don’t embarrass yourself completely before the wedding. Someone’s gotta whip you into shape, and clearly, Y/N given up on that front.”

Telemachus sat up again, pointing a finger at Acrisios. “You’re lucky you’re my friend, or I’d throw you out of the palace right now.”

Acrisios laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, Your Majesty. I’m just preparing you for the kind of teasing you’ll get from your in-laws. Antinous isn’t exactly going to go easy on you, you know.”

Telemachus groaned again, flopping back dramatically. “Don’t remind me.”

Acrisios shook his head, chuckling. “You’re hopeless, Telemachus. Absolutely hopeless.”

——

Telemachus ducked behind his bed, clutching a pillow like it was a shield in the heat of battle. “You’ll never win, Acrisios!” he taunted, a mischievous grin plastered across his face.

Acrisios stood on the other side of the room, holding two pillows like weapons. “Oh, I’m already winning. Watch and learn, future king of Ithaca!” He lunged forward, hurling one pillow across the room.

Telemachus yelped as the pillow smacked him square in the face. “Cheap shot!” he cried, throwing his own pillow back with full force. It missed Acrisios entirely and hit a vase, which wobbled dangerously but didn’t fall. They were both laughing like children, the room an absolute mess of feathers and disheveled bedding, when the door suddenly opened.

“Telemachus, are you—” Y/N’s voice trailed off as she and Lethea stepped into the room.

Acrisios froze mid swing, his pillow raised in the air, as his eyes locked on Lethea. She stood beside Y/N, her veil perfectly in place but with a few strands of hair delicately escaping, framing her face. Her hands were folded in front of her, but her head tilted slightly, and her wide, curious eyes settled on him.

For a moment, it was dead silent. Then Lethea’s gaze flicked to the chaos of the room—the feathers scattered everywhere, the pillows strewn about, and Acrisios standing there like he’d just been caught stealing. “What… is happening?” Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow at her fiancé and his friend.

Telemachus cleared his throat, hastily tossing the pillow aside and trying to sit up straight on the bed. “Uh… strategy meeting?”

She gave him an unimpressed look, crossing her arms. “With pillows?”

“Very advanced strategy,” Acrisios mumbled, lowering his pillow slowly, but his eyes stayed glued to Lethea.

Lethea blinked, her gaze moving back to Acrisios. Her expression didn’t change much—calm, composed, with a slight air of curiosity—but it was enough to make Acrisios’s brain short circuit.

Y/N glanced between the two and smirked knowingly. “Anyway, we just came to—”

“I-I didn’t mean—” Acrisios stammered suddenly, startling everyone in the room. He dropped the pillow entirely, his hands going to smooth his tunic, which had been ruffled in the chaos. “This isn’t what it looks like. I mean, it is, but it’s not—uh—usually I’m not…”

Lethea raised an eyebrow, her veil fluttering slightly as she shifted her head. “Usually you’re not… what?” she asked softly, her voice calm but clearly curious.

Acrisios’s mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. Telemachus, sensing his friend’s impending meltdown, tried to step in. “What he means is, Acrisios is just really dedicated to… physical activity.”

Y/N snorted. “Right. Physical activity. Sure.”

Acrisios shot Telemachus a desperate look, his face going redder by the second. “I, uh… I mean…” He trailed off completely, shifting awkwardly under Lethea’s steady gaze.

Lethea’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles, and she turned to Y/N. “Should we leave them to their… physical activity?”

She grinned, clearly enjoying Acrisios’s discomfort. “Oh, absolutely.” She grabbed Lethea’s arm and started leading her out of the room, but not before throwing a teasing glance over her shoulder. “Try not to destroy the place again, boys.”

As the door closed behind them, Acrisios let out a loud groan and collapsed onto the bed, burying his face in what remained of a pillow. “Kill me. Just kill me now.”

Telemachus burst out laughing, flopping onto the bed beside him. “You’re hopeless! Did you see her face? She was so judging you!”

Acrisios groaned louder, smacking Telemachus weakly with the pillow. “I made a complete fool of myself. I’ve got zero chance with her now. Zero!”

Telemachus wiped a tear from his eye, still laughing. “Oh, you had zero chance before this. But hey, at least now she knows your favorite weapon is a pillow.”

Acrisios rolled onto his back, glaring at the ceiling. “I’m never showing my face again.”

“Good luck with that,” Telemachus said, grinning. “You’ll need it for the wedding next month.”

Acrisios groaned again, throwing the pillow over his face to block out the world.

@procrastination20 @jackiepackiee @barrythestrawberry041 @blessedbyahuntress

@f3r4lfr0gg3r @permanently-nothere @eyuunho @jackintheboxs-world @simpingmyassoff @sunshinewhosketches

@sugarlillycookie @kaguraaaa @doodle-with-rhy

@0anodite0 @cocosparkel @tati-the-fangirl

@dazedemery @tsmaruchan

@holywizardprincess @galaxygurlil @pjopinkk @xo-cuteplosion-xo

#aphrodites gamble #epic the musical #epic the musical x reader #telemachus #epic telemachus #telemachus x reader

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scoupsakakitty · 2 days ago

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Cherry Blossom | idol!Jun x reader | fluff

The bustling streets of Tokyo were alive with energy as Y/N and Jun wandered through the crowded streets. Lanterns swayed gently in the evening breeze, casting warm light over the stalls lining the street. Everything smelled delicious, from freshly grilled skewers to steaming bowls of ramen, but Y/N was too distracted to enjoy it.

“Jun, I think we’re lost,” she said, looking around nervously.

Jun tilted his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “Lost? No, we’re just… exploring.”

She shot him a skeptical look. “Exploring? We’ve passed this takoyaki stall three times already.”

Jun glanced at the stall and then back at her, his expression calm. “Well, maybe the takoyaki here is just that good.”

“Jun,” she groaned, tugging at his sleeve. “We need to find the train station. We’re going to miss the last train.”

Jun pulled out his phone and frowned at the screen. “No signal.”

“Great,” Y/N muttered, crossing her arms. “And neither of us speaks enough Japanese to ask for directions.”

Jun shrugged, his nonchalant attitude doing nothing to ease her frustration. “We’ll figure it out. Maybe we can just stay out all night. It’ll be fun!”

“Fun? Wandering around a foreign city with no plan and no place to stay? Yeah, sounds like a blast,” she said sarcastically.

Jun chuckled, slipping his hands into his pockets. “You worry too much, Y/N. Sometimes you just have to go with the flow.”

She sighed, looking around the crowded street. “Going with the flow is easy for you. You’re Junhui, the guy who always seems to have everything under control.”

“That’s not true,” he said, his voice softer now. “I just… don’t show it as much.”

Y/N glanced up at him, her irritation fading slightly. “So, what do we do now, Mr. Go-With-The-Flow?”

Jun grinned and pointed to a small café at the end of the street. “We go there. Sit down, regroup, and figure it out.”

With no better option, Y/N followed him. The café was cozy, with soft jazz music playing in the background and a warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. They settled into a corner booth, and Jun pulled out a small map he had picked up earlier in the day.

“Okay,” he said, spreading the map out on the table. “Let’s solve this like a puzzle.”

Y/N leaned over to look, her shoulder brushing against his. “You’re really bad at puzzles, Jun.”

“True,” he admitted with a laugh. “But you’re great at them, so we make a good team.”

She couldn’t help but smile at his optimism. As they traced their route on the map, their laughter gradually replaced her frustration.

An hour later, they stepped back onto the street, their spirits lifted.

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” Jun said, tucking the map into his pocket.

“You mean after we spent half an hour trying to figure out which way was north?” Y/N teased.

He rolled his eyes playfully. “Details.”

As they walked, Jun suddenly stopped in front of a small shop window. Inside was a collection of handmade trinkets, each one delicate and unique.

“Wait here,” he said, disappearing inside before Y/N could protest.

When he returned, he held out a small charm in the shape of a cherry blossom.

“For you,” he said, placing it in her hand.

“Jun…” she started, but he shook his head.

“Think of it as a souvenir,” he said. “Something to remember this adventure by.”

Y/N stared at the charm, her heart swelling with warmth. “Thank you.”

Jun smiled, his eyes soft as he looked at her. “You know, getting lost with you wasn’t so bad.”

She laughed, slipping the charm into her pocket. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re my favorite travel companion,” he said, reaching for her hand.

————————————————————————————-

As they walked hand in hand, the sounds of the city seemed to fade into the background. Jun occasionally swung their arms gently, a playful smile on his face. Y/N couldn’t help but glance at him out of the corner of her eye, marveling at how relaxed he seemed despite everything.

“You’re enjoying this way too much for someone who got us lost,” she teased, squeezing his hand.

Jun tilted his head dramatically, feigning offense. “Got us lost? I prefer to call it spontaneous adventuring.”

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” Y/N laughed, shaking her head.

Jun stopped abruptly, pulling her to a halt as well. “Actually,” he said, his tone suddenly serious, “you’re the one who helps me sleep at night.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean it,” Jun said, his voice soft but firm. “Being with you makes everything feel… lighter. Like, even when we’re lost or things don’t go as planned, it doesn’t bother me because I’m with you.”

Her cheeks flushed at his words, the sincerity in his tone making her heart skip a beat. “Jun…”

He smiled at her, a little shy now. “I just wanted to say that. I’m not always the best with words, but… I hope you know how much you mean to me.”

Y/N felt her irritation from earlier melt away completely. She reached up to touch his cheek, her thumb brushing against his skin. “You’re better with words than you think, Junhui.”

His eyes lit up at her use of his full name, and before she could say anything else, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Come on,” he said, his voice lighter now. “Let’s find that train station before we accidentally end up in a completely different city.”

After another half hour of wandering (this time with better navigation), they finally found the train station. Y/N let out a triumphant cheer as they stepped onto the platform.

“We made it!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.

Jun chuckled, watching her with an affectionate gaze. “Told you we’d figure it out.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, giving him a pointed look. “And next time, you’re in charge of asking for directions.”

“I’ll start learning Japanese right away,” he joked, pulling her close as the train approached.

By the time they returned to their hotel, it was well past midnight. Y/N flopped onto the bed, exhausted but content. Jun joined her, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling.

“Today was kind of a mess,” she said, turning her head to look at him.

Jun smiled, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “The best kind of mess.”

Y/N laughed softly, rolling onto her side so she could rest her head on his chest. His arm instinctively wrapped around her, holding her close.

“I don’t mind getting lost,” she murmured, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on his shirt, “as long as it’s with you.”

Jun pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his voice low and full of warmth. “I’ll take us anywhere you want to go, Y/N. Even if we get lost a hundred times.”

As the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat lulled her to sleep, Y/N smiled, knowing that with Jun by her side, every detour would feel like the right path.

————————————————————————————-

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luimagines · 2 days ago

Text

PALWORLD Meets the Chain

Another Commission!

They wanted Twilight, Wild, and Sky with a Reader who comes from Palworld/interacting with the Pals. I hope I delivered it well enough because I know nothing of Palworld. Friends had to be consulted.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

Wild

Wild was fascinated.

There were no other words to describe what he was feeling. He knew, to a degree, that there were animals that one could train and use to help out with day to day life but you… You took it somehow to a whole other level.

The creature that followed you was a lot like the foxes that he saw in his world but the tail was concerningly on fire.

Wild watched you from the sidelines at the beginning. It didn’t last for very long. Without a word from anyone, you’d need only to snap your fingers and the little fire fox would run away, only to return with firewood, placed neatly into a pile by his foot.

“Sorry,” You’d say every time. “They like to be helpful. I didn’t think they’d pick on that you were about to start dinner yet.”

“It’s fine,” Wild would play along. “I don’t mind it. It saves the rest of us the trouble.”

Moving the little pile of wood was easy enough. Setting the stones around them for a proper fireplace was child’s play. Wild reached into his Sheikah Slate for some flint and a dagger to spark a small light. Without warning, the little fox had sneezed and set the little pile of wood into a small blaze.

Wild had froze, staring with awe at the sight in front of him. “...Well that was convenient.”

The little fox looked proud of itself.

You laughed on the sidelines as the little fox-like creature trotted back up to your side. Wild watched as you pet the furry friend on the head, giving him little scratches behind the ear with a small giggle on your lips as you did so. His finger slips in his distraction and he nicks the tip of his thumb with his knife.

Biting back the curse before anyone could notice, he bit his nail and quickly took care of the sharp stinging pain before blood would weep from the cut.

“Are you ok, Champion?” You asked him, turning to him after the commotion he’s caused.

“Oh, yeah, of course, never better.” He lies with ease. It’s a shame he’s such an obvious liar. Wild’s left ear twitched at the thought. He’s not fond of being caught in broad daylight, however, so he’s quick to change the subject. “What did you want for dinner?”

“Anything would suffice,” You said with a dazzling smile that left Wild momentarily distracted. He failed to notice that the little fox was slowly making its way back to Wild. “You know I’m not picky. I’ll take whatever you’re willing to make. You’re a great cook.”

He tries to give you his flattest look, but the mirth is still on his lips. “I appreciate the compliment but that doesn’t really help me with ideas.” Taking out the cutting board, Wild looked through his slate for a moment, trying to think of what he could make on such short notice. It had been a while since they’d stocked up on food. He was running low. “Chicken?”

He took out a few pieces and placed them on the cutting board. “And come potatoes and carrots?”

“Works for me!” You cheered.

“Perfect.” Wild grinned and began to take out as many potatoes as his hands could carry.

“How come you never ask us what we want to eat?” Warrior called out from somewhere behind him. “We can give you ideas too you know.”

“I don’t need to ask you,” Wild deadpans, switching to the carrots. “You lot just yell at me what you want to eat while we walk or in the middle of battle.”

“You could still do us the courtesy of asking us-”

“Wild look out!” You cried.

Wild perked up but it was too late. A flash of orange zipped past his leg and away from the cooking fire, sitting itself as far as possible to enjoy the stolen treat. Wild looked back to the cutting board at once and scowled.

“It stole the chicken!” He shouted, outraged and indignant.

You started laughing.

Twilight

Twilight liked to consider himself a man who wasn’t afraid of anything.

When shadows overtook his homeland, he didn’t want his fear to override his need for justice. His loyalty to his friends was second to none and wasn’t about to sit back and allow anything bad to happen to the people he cared about.

When the dust had settled and the light came back, he wasn’t as surprised as perhaps he should have been when the first portal appeared. Without thinking much about the consequences, he went through it, assured that whatever was about to meet him on the other side was messing with things it shouldn’t.

Which brought him to this moment.

A large dog-like creature growled at him, poised to attack at any moment.

He nearly snarled back, reaching behind to grab his sword. Twilight never liked the idea of hurting animals but he wasn’t about to let this canine have his way with him. The creature was larger than he was as a wolf. The maw, legs, tail, and second portion of the mane were white. The rest of the beast was as black as night.

“No!” You screamed from the other side of the trail. “Don’t hurt my Direhowl!”

“How about he doesn’t hurt me instead?” Twilight yelled back, not once taking his eyes off of the Direhowl in front of him.

“Sorry! Sorry!” You say again, running up to him and taking the beast by the scruff of the neck. “I thought he wouldn’t be like this after a while but I guess it’s because you’re a new face. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t he’d be as sorry as you are.” Twilight bared his teeth ever so slightly.

“Bad dog!” You shout.

Both Twilight and the Direhowl perked up at the words and turned to look at you. You were glaring down at the creature, who, to Twilight’s amusement, began to look rather sheepish. His amusement quickly turned to subtle embarrassment when he realized that he was just as affected by your tone as the canine in front of him.

Twilight put his sword back in its sheath.

Clearing his throat with a cough, Twilight patted down his clothes and rubbed his palms. “If that’s everything, I’m going to check the perimeter.”

“Yeah… Yeah, good idea. Again, I’m really sorry about all this-”

He holds up his hand. “Don’t worry about it. No harm done. Just keep a tighter leash on him.”

He leaves it at that, walking far away to be out of earshot. Without thinking twice, Twilight takes out the shadow crystal and transforms into his wolf body. As per usual, his senses change. Colors were no longer as vibrant, his sense of smell strengthened tenfold, his hearing tripled in range, and his vision both sharpened and lowered to the ground.

He began his trip around the perimeter checking for various signs of mischief or danger if possible. It was old hat for him and he thanked the golden three above that there was nothing to report back on once his check was complete.

That is until he heard a now familiar growl.

He growled back without question, poising his body onto the ground to strike if the Direhowl tried anything. “Oh stop it!” He snarled. “You’re not the biggest beast here.”

“Big words for a tiny dog.” The voice responded. It was deeper than Twilight anticipated for his wolf ears. The Direhowl walked in front of him. “Am I supposed to feel threatened?”

“If you kill me, the others will never forgive you.” Twilight tries a different approach. Because yes, he was, in fact, bigger than him even in this form. “And they’ll take your human and kick them out for the group for treachery.”

That seems to set the Direhowl back a few steps. His loyalty was also unquestionable.

“They wouldn’t.”

“They would.”

A pregnant pause followed before the Direhowl sat down instead. “You’re the one they call Rancher.”

Twilight followed his example and sat down as well with a nod. “I am.”

“...I don’t like you.” The Direhowl glares. “But my human likes you. So I suppose that’s enough to save your skin.”

Twilight had to fight not to roll his eyes. “Charming. I’m forever grateful.”

Sky

“This is awesome!” You shout as you fly through the skies around Skyloft.

Sky laughed and followed you, playfully getting a bit closer than strictly necessary. The heat of your bird was undeniable. Sky could feel the heat of the feathers on his cheek. His loftwing was off-put, unsure about the lack of safe space from the creature beside it.

You pushed off, giving him space to fly in the direction with an indignant squawk. “Hey!”

Sky laughed.

Laughing yourself, you also push him in the air, his loftwing banking left to keep a safe distance between the two of you. “Hey now!” Sky shouted, a large smile on his face. “That’s not fair. Are you trying to set us on fire?”

It’s a tease. He’s well aware that he started it.

Without replying, you bank off to the right and land your bird on one of the many smaller islands around Skyloft. Sky followed you, landing a considerable distance away so that your bird didn’t bother his loftwing. You had warned him before you both set off for the flight that he was aggressive and prone to attack on sight.

As much as Sky trusted you and trusted your judgment, he didn’t want any harm coming to his loftwing.

“Was he getting tired?” Sky asked once the birds were settled. He tossed some treats to distract the loftwing and keep his energy up before jogging to close the distance. “I have extra fruits if that’s what he eats.”

The bird hissed as Sky got close. He paused in his tracks, not taking his eyes off of the volatile bird.

“No, no, no,” You wave him off with a slightly embarrassed smile. “He’s a ragnahawk. I found him living in a volcano and his kind only eats rocks. I have a few in my bag.”

“I’m sorry-” Sky reels back for a moment. “Did I just hear you correctly?”

“Yes. Rocks.” You giggle. “Don’t worry, he has the stomach to handle it.”

“...Right.” Sky awkwardly pockets the snacks once more. Clearing his throat, Sky looked up at the red bird as you tossed it rocks once at a time. He admired the feathers. The colors were much like those of his loftwing’s but the tips of the wings were completely yellow with black lines on the edges. The sickening crunching sound was a little offputting but there was an unmistakable birdy joy as it ate its treats. “So long he’s being taken care of, I suppose.”

“What does your bird eat?” You pocketed the last of the “snacks” and turned back to Sky. “I doubt it’s rocks like this beast.” You use your eyes to gesture back to the ragnahawk with a bright smile on your face.

Sky shrugs. “Fruit mostly. But they live on their own islands. So we’re not entirely sure what it is that they eat. We just know they usually accept our treats when we give them. Each one has their own taste, though. They’re a bit picky like that.”

You nod. The information sounds familiar. “Each has their own personality. I can respect that.”

The silence turns comfortable as you both look out to the expanse of the Skyloft and the surrounding islands. You let out a wistful sigh and step forward. “Your world is beautiful. I didn’t think I’d ever get to see anything like it.”

“It’s not much,” Sky smiles bashfully. “The surface world has much more to offer than our little island.”

“Nonsense, I like this.” You turned to him. “Will you show me more?”

“Of course! Is your bird ready to fly again?”

“Ready whenever you are!”

Sky laughed, jumping off of the ledge “Perfect! Let’s go!”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #lu x reader #lu sky #lu twilight #lu wild

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simplyraeblue · 17 hours ago

Text

King and Captive

(Hunter and Hunted Spin-Off) read here

modern au a chance meeting with Sukuna quickly turns into a nightly routine you can't escape. as the lines between game and something more blur, you start to wonder—how long can you keep playing, or will Sukuna make you his next conquest? !Sukuna x !femreader

chapter warnings/tags: MDNI, NSFW, swearing, mention of needles, piercings, drinking alcohol, mentions of semi-public sex, hooonestly not sure what else for this chap!

A/N: rah rah rah! new chapter! sorry it has taken me so long you guys, but I’ve already got the one after this locked and loaded so I promise it won’t be as much of a wait next time! I wanted something a little more fluffy/lighthearted for this one, so I hope you enjoy ◡̈

index part five | part seven

part six word count: 3,312

you figured that this would be the part of a romance novel where everyone cheers, where every reader can revel in the happiness. but of course, life had to throw you for a loop.

walking to Cursed Ink was becoming part of your routine—right behind swinging by the pub near work to see Sukuna. on nights he had clients and couldn’t make it to the bar, you found yourself drawn to the shop, craving more of his company.

it didn’t help that your wicked fantasy of being bent over the tattoo chair had come true just last week, mere days after your first time with him. Sukuna swore he had full control over the security cameras and would scrub the footage clean afterwards, although you doubted he’d actually erase them completely before downloading the data for his own personal use.

you were proven right by a clip sent to you in the middle of work today. distracting you from your responsibilities and earning a sharp glare from your coworker who just so happened to hear your volume up too loud when you initially opened the message – the sound of breathy grunts exploding from your speakers.

as you pushed open the door, you silently hoped Sukuna was there alone. no such luck. the moment you stepped inside, you spotted Gojo perched smugly on the front counter, snowy hair catching the light. you barely had time to sigh before Uraume blocked your path, their expression as chilly as their voice.

“did Sukuna know you were dropping by?” they asked, a hint of warning in their tone.

“uh, no,” you admitted, suddenly self-conscious. “he’s got a late session, so I thought I’d stop in.”

were you breaking some unspoken rule? you weren’t sure.

“relax, Uraume, no need to bite her head off,” Gojo chimed in, pushing his sunglasses down his nose. his piercing gaze landed on you. “maybe she’s here for a tattoo or piercing… unless she’s still too scared?”

the defiance in you flared, and you stuck out your lower lip. “I'm not scared,” you muttered, though the tiny waver in your voice said otherwise.

Gojo grinned wider, glancing at Suguru Geto, who lurked across the room. “so you wouldn’t mind if Geto gave you a brand-new piercing, then?”

Geto grumbled something too low to hear. you fidgeted, scanning the shop for Sukuna and silently praying he’d show up before Gojo’s taunting went any further.

Gojo’s challenge hung in the air, and although your heart did a nervous flip, you couldn’t stop your pride from stepping forward first. maybe it was that smug look he was giving you, or the fact that Uraume looked ready to toss you right out the door. either way, backing down now would be worse than going through with it.

“fine,” you said, trying your best to keep your voice steady even though your pulse was thumping in your ears. “let’s do it.”

Gojo’s grin widened. “oh-ho, really?” he hopped off the counter. “Geto, you hearing this? she’s ready for a new hole.”

Geto, who’d been quietly setting up equipment at a nearby station, gave you a measured look. he didn’t seem nearly as amused as Gojo. “which piercing?” he asked.

your gaze flicked to the glinting piercing tools, something wild and impulsive sparking inside you. “actually… I was thinking a nose piercing.”

Gojo’s eyebrows shot up. “oh? didn’t peg you for a daredevil.”

a smile tugged at your lips. “guess I felt like taking a risk.”

Geto nodded, gesturing for you to follow him to one of the piercing stations. “I promise it won’t be so bad. you’ve got this.”

you dragged your feet a little, nerves spiking again as you slid onto the chair. the station smelled faintly of antiseptic and metal, and you suddenly realized this was really happening. worst case scenario the hole will close up once you remove the jewelry, right? Gojo prowled over to watch, leaning in far too close with that wolfish grin still on his face.

“don’t hover,” Geto muttered, rolling his eyes at Gojo before turning to you. “it’ll be quick. you good with that?”

you nodded, swallowing thickly. “yeah. I'm good.”

a short laugh escaped Gojo. “you should see your face,” he teased. “relax, you’ll be fine.”

Geto lifted a sterilized needle, his brow drawn in concentration. “stay still.”

you braced yourself, your hands gripping the seat. the clamp pressed against your nostril, and you forced a steady exhale, counting down in your head—three… two…

a sharp sting made you wince, your eyes clenching shut for a heartbeat. then it was over, the needle swapped for a small stud you could barely feel sliding into place. it burned, but not as badly as you’d imagined.

Geto handed you a handheld mirror. “done.”

“looks good on you,” Gojo remarked, studying it with a surprisingly serious nod.

you let out a breath, some mix of relief and pride washing through you. “guess I'm not that scared, huh?”

a new voice cut through before Gojo could retort. “that scared of what?”

all three of you turned to see Sukuna standing just inside the doorway to the back room, his gaze flicking from your newly pierced nose to the tray of equipment and then to your face. his eyebrows arched, and the lazy smirk you knew all too well curved at his lips.

“really, you guys couldn’t wait till I was done to start poking holes in her?” he said, sounding both amused and a little annoyed.

you hopped off the chair, nose still stinging, and tried to shrug it off like no big deal. “I'm fine,” you muttered, though you were pretty sure your cheeks were giving you away.

Suguru was already tidying up, but Gojo was grinning ear to ear. “you missed a whole show, Sukuna,” he sang out, but Sukuna just waved him off.

“yeah, yeah,” Sukuna said, eyes locked on you. “I'll get the recap later.”

as he crossed the shop to you, Gojo snorted, and Geto half-rolled his eyes. Uraume might have murmured something disapproving under their breath, but you barely heard it. all you could focus on was the way Sukuna’s gaze softened—just a fraction—when he saw the slight wince you made, still wiggling your nose to get used to the feeling.

“come on,” he told you, jerking his head toward the back. “let’s clean that up properly. you’re not done yet, princess.”

you followed Sukuna through a narrow hallway toward a tucked-away section of the shop. he stopped in front of a small station draped with a clean black towel, turning to eye your new piercing under the bright overhead light. “so,” he drawled, crossing his arms over his chest. “that adrenaline high still going strong?”

you shrugged, half-smiling, your pulse still galloping from the sudden decision you’d made in front of Gojo and Geto. “yeah,” you admitted, “actually it feels pretty great.”

his smirk twitched, half amusement, half curiosity. “I gotta give it to you—didn’t think you’d go for the nose. maybe a simple ear piercing first. you really jumped straight to the fun stuff.”

you met his gaze, lifting your chin in playful defiance. “don’t act surprised. I’ve shown you plenty of times I'm not afraid to keep up.”

Sukuna chuckled, the low sound reverberating in the small space. “fair enough,” he said, stepping forward until he was close enough for you to catch the faint scent of leather and disinfectant on his clothes. his hand reached out, fingertips brushing your cheek.

“you cool with it?” he asked, quieter now. “doesn’t hurt too bad?”

you shook your head, your voice equally soft. “nah, it’s fine. might sting a bit if I accidentally bump it, but…” you shrugged, forcing a casualness you barely felt with him standing so near.

for a moment, he said nothing, his eyes lingering on you as though trying to memorize every detail of your face. when he finally spoke, his voice was low enough that it felt like a secret. “kind of suits you,” he repeated, a subtle smile tugging at his lips. “a little edge. looks good.”

heat rose to your cheeks at the unexpected gentleness in his tone. “thanks,” you managed, your heart thumping just as hard as it had when Geto pushed the needle through your skin.

the only thing Sukuna hated about your new piercing was that it made tearing his eyes away from you nearly impossible. not that he’d had an easy time ignoring you before—but now, it was downright futile.

he could lie and say it was because the tiny stud caught the light, creating a distracting sparkle, but deep down, he knew it was because it made you look damn good. pristine skin, no other ink or metal to speak of—until you met him. Sukuna liked to imagine he’d corrupted you just a bit.

“it’s nice to finally meet you,” Shoko said, offering a handshake from across the table. “I’ve heard plenty about you.”

you and Sukuna were settled into the booth of a bar alongside Gojo, Geto, Uraume, and Shoko. “likewise,” you replied, feeling oddly self-conscious under her calm, assessing gaze. but she just smiled, gave a small nod, and sipped her drink as though you passed some unspoken test.

“next rounds on me,” Gojo declared with a cocky grin, sliding out of the booth. before leaving, he cast you a mischievous look. “hope your new piercing can handle strong liquor without bursting into flames.”

you rolled your eyes, flicking your gaze to Sukuna in time to catch him staring yet again. he masked it with a lazy smirk, slipping an arm across the back of the booth behind you. “what?” he drawled, shrugging as though you’d caught him red-handed. “I like the view.”

Geto, sipping his drink, let out a small laugh at Sukuna’s halfhearted attempt at nonchalance. “you’re not subtle, you know,” he remarked, earning a wry eye roll from Uraume. Shoko, who’d been quietly observing, raised an eyebrow and shook her head, a hint of amusement on her face.

ignoring the teasing, Sukuna leaned in just enough for you to hear him over the crowd. “how’s it feeling? everything okay?” he asked, nodding at your nose with a quick glance.

you smiled, appreciating the concern behind the brash exterior. “it’s fine,” you said, voice low enough that only he could catch it. “might sting if I catch it on something, but I'll survive.”

“good girl,” Sukuna replied, that faint edge of cockiness tugging the corners of his mouth into a grin as he watched your face flush. he pulled back right as Gojo returned with a tray of drinks, his voice booming with mock cheer.

Gojo, now comfortably sprawled out on the opposite side of the table, decided to stir the pot. “hey, princess,” he called to you with a grin. “does your new hardware come with hazard lights, or is that just the glow of Sukuna’s embarrassment?”

Geto gave Gojo a mild shove, rolling his eyes at his friend’s antics. “give it a rest, Gojo,” he said, but the slight curve to his lips betrayed his amusement. Uraume merely side-eyed the exchange, sipping their drink without comment.

you only smirked in response, turning back to Sukuna. “apparently, I'm giving off some kind of glow.”

“shut it,” Sukuna grumbled, although his hand slipped to your waist under the table in a half-hearted warning. Shoko caught the movement out of the corner of her eye and shot you a knowing smile, but didn’t comment. “why is it always me that gets picked on?”

“because it’s fun,” Gojo chimed in, knocking back the rest of his drink.

another round of drinks arrived, then another, then another, and soon everyone was just a bit looser—voices carrying over the thrum of conversation, laughter coming easier, boundaries melting away under the pleasant buzz of alcohol.

Gojo, predictably, became even more theatrical, gesturing wildly as he recounted some half-true story about a weekend escapade. Geto, who was perched next to him, looked half-amused, half-ready to stuff a napkin in Gojo’s mouth. Uraume sipped at their glass, occasionally rolling their eyes when Gojo got too carried away.

in the midst of it all, Shoko slid into the seat next to you, offering a fresh drink. “thought you might need something less… obnoxious,” she said with a wry grin, nodding pointedly at the neon-colored concoction in Gojo’s hand.

“thanks,” you replied, swirling the amber liquid in your new glass before taking a cautious sip. it had a pleasant warmth, a slow burn that settled nicely in your chest.

“first time out with the whole crew?” Shoko asked, her tone neutral, though her eyes flicked in Sukuna’s direction—where he was engaged in a half-heated, half-joking argument with Gojo about god knows what.

“yeah,” you admitted, leaning in so she could hear you over the noise. “usually, it’s just me and Sukuna… or occasionally Geto, too. this is the first time I’ve been with everyone at once.”

she took a sip of her drink and gave you a small smile. “they’re a handful,” she said, tilting her glass toward Gojo, who was now attempting to coax Uraume into doing a shot with him. “but they grow on you, if you let them.”

“kind of like a fungus?” you joked, earning a quick snort of laughter from Shoko.

“exactly,” she teased, her eyes lighting up. she was quiet for a moment, swirling the ice around in her glass. “so,” she said finally, “how’s the nose piercing treating you?”

you touched it lightly, feeling that subtle tug where the skin was still a bit tender. “it’s fine, actually. doesn’t hurt too much anymore. Sukuna was more worried about it than I was.”

Shoko’s brows rose. “he always acts too tough. but behind that façade?” she paused, taking another drink, and shook her head knowingly. “he’s just as concerned about his people as the rest of us. maybe more.”

it made you smile, thinking of how often Sukuna’s gruff exterior slipped just enough to reveal that protective streak. “yeah,” you agreed softly, glancing over at him. “I'm starting to realize that.”

Shoko followed your gaze, then turned back to you, looking strangely pleased. “well, if you ever need a second opinion on any of your new… adventures—or if that nose starts acting up—feel free to reach out. medic on call.” she tapped the side of her head, half-mocking, half-serious.

“thanks.” you lifted your glass in a small toast. “I appreciate it.”

she clinked her glass against yours. “no problem.” then her gaze shifted, eyes narrowing slyly. “just don’t let him drag you into too many fights. or do—your call. but if you ever have to patch him up, call me instead of the hack job he’d try to do on himself.”

you laughed, and Shoko joined in, her once-reserved demeanor warming the more you two talked. another cheer erupted from the other side of the booth as Gojo finally convinced Uraume to take a shot, and even Geto got in on the revelry with a faint grin tugging at his lips. Sukuna caught your eye in the midst of the chaos, one eyebrow raised as if to ask if you were okay. you gave a small nod, a silent reassurance.

turning back to Shoko, you found she was watching the exchange with that same wry smile. “looks like he’s keeping an eye on you,” she remarked quietly, sipping her drink.

and from the way your heart flipped at his quick check-in, you realized that maybe you were keeping an eye on him, too.

your cheeks were beginning to feel hot and your words a little slurred by the time Shoko coaxed you into another drink. you couldn’t help but laugh as Gojo tried—and failed—to balance an empty shot glass on Geto’s head. Uraume observed the entire spectacle with their usual cool detachment, while Sukuna shot you a quick, amused glance and shook his head like he couldn’t believe you’d let yourself get dragged in so deep.

then the door swung open, ushering in a new wave of noise and energy. you saw the pink puff of hair before you heard him. a ripple of excitement ran through the group as Yuji approached, Megumi, Nobara, and Choso in tow. they were quickly swept up in Gojo’s exuberant storytelling, but you were getting swept up by that nagging feeling again.

because she came along.

you leaned against Sukuna’s side, soaking in the warmth of his presence even as your gaze drifted to where she had sat. she was chatting easily with Choso, her hand resting comfortably on his forearm, and every so often, her eyes slid across the table to Sukuna.

you tried to ignore the way your stomach twisted each time she did. your insecurities flared, a nagging voice in your mind whispering that she was probably the prettiest woman in the group. you couldn’t help wondering if Sukuna had ever looked at you the way he used to look at her.

she smiled at something Choso whispered to her, then turned her attention to you. “I love the new piercing,” she said, genuine admiration coloring her voice. “it really suits you.”

you mustered a smile, hoping the warmth in your cheeks didn’t show. “thanks,” you managed, fighting off the prick of jealousy at how easily she carried herself. next to her, you couldn’t help but feel… ordinary.

Gojo, never one to miss a chance to stir the pot, leaned forward. “you should’ve seen Sukuna’s face when he first noticed it,” he teased, tipping his glass in your direction. “man nearly fell over.”

Sukuna gave an exasperated eye roll but tugged you a bit closer, his hand settling at your shoulder. “don’t start,” he warned, though the corner of his mouth twitched with reluctant humor.

Choso, seeming to sense the slight shift in tension, cleared his throat. “so, who’s ready for another round?” he lifted a brow at Megumi and Nobara, who nodded, and Yuji eagerly shot to his feet to help with the drinks. meanwhile, Shoko watched you with an understanding glimmer in her eyes, like she’d noticed your momentary discomfort and decided not to comment on it directly.

as more of your group flitted from the table to go order, leaving you without Sukuna’s presence, Shoko sat back down next to you again. “to be fair,” Shoko began quietly, leaning in just enough that you could catch her words over the music, “I'm really surprised they can even be this friendly with each other.” she followed your line of sight, an almost rueful smile playing at her lips.

“friendly?” you repeated, trying to sound casual. “I mean… they seem okay.”

Shoko’s shrug was subtle. “they are now. but it wasn’t always like this.” she paused, as though weighing how much to reveal. then she let out a small sigh and continued. “things were… messy between them. he didn’t talk about it much. neither did she.”

your heart twinged at the word messy, and you couldn’t keep yourself from asking, “what happened?”

Shoko grimaced, pausing as if she wasn’t sure if she should share the information. but thanks to quite a few drinks, her lips started moving on their own. “they were never... official. and it was quite the love triangle between those three for a while. but all I know is he messed up. told us that he’d hurt her without meaning to, and that there was no redemption.”

“hurt her? I know Sukuna can be… intense, but what did he do that was irredeemable?” you shouldn’t have asked, and your conscious reprimanded you for it. but you couldn’t have possibly known the next words that would come out of her mouth.

and after learning what he did... you felt your heart drop to your stomach.

⊹. ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊

taglist : @mangiswig @sorahatake @osohchoso @clp-84 @sterzin @csolya @emochosoluvr @aldebrana @ravester @marie-is-in-the-dark @makingtimemine

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lalathemediterraneanmermaid · 2 days ago

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Love & Deepspace Boys and how do they smell like

Hi, hello, how are you, my beloveds? Lately, I’ve been obsessed with the game 'Love and Deepspace.' I haven’t started playing yet (my phone is completely out of storage, tragic, I know), but hear me out: THE CHARACTERS. OMG, THE CHARACTERS. Anyway, today I bring you my thoughts on what I think each LaDs boy smells like. Enjoy!!!

Caleb

I know, I know, Caleb is a new character who was an npc in the beginning and we know little about him. But I’ve seen his release trailer and I think we can work with that. He is depicted as friendly, approachable, energetic, grounded and fresh, but in his release trailer we can see a darker side of him (he is now literally an android, I mean, he has a robotic arm). While my poor boy was an npc, he seemed naturally warm and friendly, with a light, refreshing personality and an approachable and energetic vibe. It appears apples are a symbol of him, and apples are naturally fresh and sweet. We can also see a more calm and peaceful side of him while he interacts with MC. But this sense of calmness, airiness and freshness, ends up a bit left aside with his release trailer, that gives a more obscure and mysterious aura with a lot of angst. He is giving me “good boy gone bad” vibes if you know what I mean… He seems to be seeking revenge (just my opinion). And it’s not just the vibes, he seems hella toxic and possessive.

That being said, his scent matches that vibe of “good boy with a dark secret”. Caleb's scent would be fresh and vibrant at first, reminiscent of his warm, approachable beginnings, but it will fade pretty quickly, settling into something smoky, leathery, and grounding. This duality captures his essence as someone torn between his apparent goodness and the weight of his transformation, or may I say his true self? I would also say he smells pretty clean, like aftershave or something similar, why? I don’t really know, it’s just a vibe.

Notes: Green apple, bergamot, lavender, smoky vetiver and dark amber.

Perfumes:

Yves Saint Laurent - Y

Creed - Spice & Wood

Le Labo - Bergamote 22

Dior - Sauvage (this one for the toxic part lol)

Tom Ford - Oud Wood

Rafayel

Okay, we DO KNOW Rafayel, he is our favourite diva drama queen. Now let’s get serious. Rafayel is a passionate, fiery (lol), playful, artistic and a teeny-weeny bit mischievous fine pisces man. Lemme explain, Rafayel's vibe is that of a passionate, creative soul with an intense drive to express himself through art. To others he's quite aloof, cold even, stopping at nothing to achieve his goals, even if his actions may seem morally ambiguous. But with those who really know him, he has a fiery and dynamic personality, much like his artwork, which leaves a profound impact on those who view it. Though with MC, he tends to act pretty carefree, petulant and childish, Rafayel is a tease and really likes to act clingy around her, but just around HER. Also, he is pretty, like beautiful, ETHEREAL (literally, he is a merman) and he appreciates fine art and beauty. His art is mood-influenced, the colors he uses depend on his feelings. Also, there’s a mix of sensuality and intensity in his character.

With all that information about our fish boy Rafayel we can tell that he, more or less, smells like paints (obviously), but he also smells really clean, fresh and a bit sweet, but overall light, fresh and airy, beautiful. On top of all of that, he is nostalgic of the ocean, so there’s clearly something aquatic about his scent.

Notes: Sea salt, yuzu, bergamot, white jasmine, ambergris, cherry, dry woods and paint accords.

Perfumes:

Jo Malone - Wood Sage & Sea Salt

Loewe - Agua Él

Giorgio Armani - Acqua di Gio Profondo

Issey Miyake - L'Eau d'Issey Pour Homme

Calvin Klein - Eternity Air for Men

Xavier

Xavier, our sleepy boy. Only that says a lot about him. He is calm, caring, playful, overprotective and a bit obsessive towards MC. Xavier presents a serene, almost ethereal vibe, with a calm demeanor and a caring nature. He has a pure and angelic aura, but his occasional obsessive tendencies add complexity to his character. He won't even hesitate to eliminate anyone who threatens him or MC. He is quite mysterious though, with not so many facial expressions, his unknown age, that hidden need to have MC for his own… Which is pretty amusing to know given the fact that he has no problem falling asleep anywhere, anytime. Xavier has a boyish, endearing and otherworldly charm due to his awkward speech, mannerisms and lack of awareness of social norms. And lastly, I will say he has a kind of nurturing side, but he also demands you to nurture him lol.

With that being said, what does Xavier smell like? I can sense some fresh and clean notes along with other calming ones. I also can picture him spraying onto his bedsheets baby cologne, more specifically “Petits Et Mamans” by Bvlgari. I don’t really think we can “smell” that more obscure side of him, so it’s safe to say he smells light, fresh and clean.

Notes: White tea, baby powder, lavender, cotton blossom, musk and water lily.

Perfumes:

Bvlgari - Eau Parfumée au Thé Blanc

Clean Reserve - Skin

Maison Margiela Replica - Lazy Sunday Morning

Jo Malone - White Jasmine & Mint

Byredo - Blanche

Sylus

Sylus, my man, my beloved, the love of my life. Okay, now for real, Sylus gives off a strong, commanding aura, with an air of danger and mystery along with a strategic mind and cold, calculated nature. To make it easier to understand, he is giving major red flag vibes. He is the leader of Onychinus, so he definitely has leadership qualities that go well with his very defined ruthless attitude. He is sassy duh, and the definition of a tease. Sylus is an arrogant and confident man and rarely perceives anyone as a real threat. Even in dangerous situations, he remains calm and smug. His cruelty knows no bounds when it comes to achieving his goals, as he's willing to threaten or even kill to get what he wants. At the same time, there’s a hint of warmth in his character, he is a softy at heart, he loves his fluffy onesie. So he is not really that much of a red flag, he really cares for MC and it shows in his eyes on quite a lot of occasions. His vibe can be best described as dominant, powerful, mysterious, dark and a bit of a tease, yet deeply caring for MC..

Knowing both his cold and dangerous side and his warm and caring one, and looking at his “looks like could kill you, would kill you”, “bad boy”, “touch her and you die” vibe. His scent would likely be dark and intense, with a spicy, animalistic base, balanced by warm and seductive notes that reflect his caring side.

Notes: Leather, black pepper, tobacco, liqueur, amber and tonka bean.

Perfumes:

Tom Ford - Ombre Leather

Givenchy - Gentleman

Penhaligon's - The Dandy

Kilian Paris - Old Fashioned

Tom Ford - Tobacco Vanille

Zayne

Oh Zayne, my other man. At this point I don’t even care for my digital footprint anymore so let’s be honest, Zayne and Sylus could sandwich me in between them and I wouldn’t complain lol. Okay, back to our Zaddy Dr. Zayne, he is very professional and focused, as the perfect doctor he is. He is stoic and grounded, again, he is a doctor. My pookie appears to be cold at the beginning, but he is really caring, loving and a huge softie, and, of course, he is an indulgent with a sweet tooth lol. Let’s summarize, Zayne has a very serious and disciplined vibe, especially in his role as a doctor. He’s grounded, practical, and very level-headed. However, there’s a contrast in his character as well, he indulges in sweets and has a soft spot for certain comforts. His complexity lies in balancing his demanding profession with moments of personal relaxation. He is the complete opposite of Xavier, Zayne suffers a lot from bad nightmares and insomnia, my poor boy needs to sleep really bad. He gives off major 'girl dad' and husband material vibes, I mean, he literally focused his doctor career on researching congenital heart abnormalities in neonates and he learned how to braid hair by taking care of kids in Akso Hospital. He also strikes me as the loyal type, and if you don’t agree just look at his safe black outfit with sunglasses, he loves that outfit more than he loves MC I swear, and we love a consistent man. Outside the main story, Zayne displays a more affectionate personality with MC. He is also openly physically affectionate, often boldly holding or even kissing the main character. Btw, I love this fact that I’ve found on the internet: “Zayne's alcohol limit: One piece of liqueur chocolate.” and this one too: “When he's down with a cold, he dodges the medicine and insists on a hot cocoa instead.” He is so like me for real.

Okay, I’ll stop writing about Zayne before this turns into a full-blown thesis. about him lol. So, how does Zayne smell like? Fresh and clean with hints of sweet notes. We do have to remember that he works at a hospital, so, typically, it’s not common for doctors to wear perfumes, at least not the strong type. Considering this, I imagine that on a daily basis, he smells clean and fresh, with just a hint of sweetness. Outside the hospital, he likely keeps the same clean and fresh scent, though perhaps slightly stronger, sweeter and more noticeable. And, I also imagine he wears a perfume that’s simple yet undeniably luxurious, something niche and understated.

Notes: White musk, vetiver, bergamot, cedarwood, ambergris, vanilla and cocoa.

Perfumes:

Imaginary Authors: The Language of Glaciers

Zoologist - Snowy Owl

Creed - Silver Mountain Water

Guerlain - L'Homme Idéal Eau de Parfum

Chanel - Allure Homme Édition Blanche

And that’s all, my dears! I hope you’ve enjoyed this post! As always, it’s just based on my opinion. I’m really curious to know what you think our boys smell like!

#lads #lads sylus #lads zayne #lads xavier #lads rafayel #lads caleb #love and deepspace

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