#Of course one could argue what’s the point of caring about or opening yourself up to anyone

[poughkeepsie99]

stay gold - dw x fem!reader

warnings! slight mentions of violence, suggestions of depression, mental health, spoilers for 'the outsiders', use of nicknames; sweetheart, sweet girl

word count: 1.5k

pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

a/n: hey guys! this is my first fic ever so I'm really nervous to publish this, and also I wrote this at like 1 am... but also formatting was a pain in my ass so I apologize if this is ugly. this is totally random but I recently just rewatched the outsiders AND saw the play on Broadway so now I'm obsessed and can't stop thinking about it. so anyways, here it is!

"c'mon sweetheart," dean groans, turning his head to give you a look as you selected the movie on the screen.

"no, dean, it's my turn to choose, and you agreed to no complaining," you counter, unable to stop the smile from spreading across your lips, eyes locked on the tv as you press play on the screen.

you had a point, and you knew it. it was your and dean's weekly movie night, and as you had said, it was your turn to choose. normally, you chose a movie that you at least somewhat liked, but also knew he would enjoy, that way you would both be happy. but the past couple weeks had been rough, and honestly you just wanted to curl up on the couch and watch something familiar, something comforting.

'the outsiders' had been one of your favorites since you were younger, the brotherhood of the greasers, and just the story in general bringing so much comfort and warmth to you. even though it was inherently a sad movie, it was the good kind of sad. the kind of sad that left an ache in your heart that you could just wallow in instead of the problems in your own crazy fucked up life.

"m'not complaining," dean grumbles, settling back onto the couch, a slight pout on his lips. "just tryna make a suggestion.."

"dean, c'mon, please? just this once, for me?" you ask, turning to look at him with a look that was almost pleading. you were trying to hide how tired you were. how beaten down and defeated the past couple weels of nonstop hunts and constantly being thrown around were making you feel.

dean opened his mouth as if to argue, but he seemed to notice something in your face, and his expression softened. he let out a sigh, placing his arm on the back of the couch and holding out his other one, motioning for you to come closer. "alright, alright, but i don't wanna hear any complaining from you next week when it's my turn."

you simply hum in agreement, scooting closer to him and nestling into his side with a small smile on your face as the familiar opening credits play. dean's arm curls around you, holding you close to him and gently brushing his knuckles over the soft skin of your arm. you lean your head on his shoulder, eyes glued to the screen as you take a deep breath, allowing yourself to relax in the comfort of the moment.

as the movie goes on, you occasionally glance up at dean, surprised to find him thoroughly invested in the film, eyes slightly wide and zoned in on the screen, the glow reflected in his irises.

what you failed to notice, however, was dean doing the same. every so often, his eyes would drift down to you, taking in the way the soft glow of the tv highlighted your features, tracing the curve of your cheek and lips with his eyes. he found himself liking the movie a lot more than he would admit to you, and he could see why you liked it.

his favorite character was dallas, of course, but he also found himself drawn to darry, seeing himself in the eldest curtis brother. the way darry looked out for his brothers reminded dean of his childhood, how he took care of sam the same way. his eyes widened in surprise when ponyboy woke up to johnny having killed bob, and he actually let out a small gasp when the burning church collapsed on poor johnny. he watched eagerly as the greasers prepared for the rumble, secretly cheering for them in his head.

dean's hand never stopped it's comforting movements on your skin, whether it was your arm, or your hip, skin exposed where your shirt had ridden up, he was always touching you in some way, making sure you knew he was still there. dean had noticed that something was off for a while. he hadn't said anything, he was gonna let you come to him when you were ready, but he saw your exhausted, almost crushed expression when you had pleaded with him about the movie, and so he gave in, content with just making you feel better with gentle touches and soft kisses on your temple throughout the movie.

through the emotions going through his head as ponyboy read johnnys letter at the end of the movie, dean heard your soft voice next to him. he looked down, about to ask you to repeat what you said, but then he saw how your eyes were still glued to the tv, your lips moving in time to the characters on the screen.

he smiled, warmth blooming in his chest as he listened to you quote the scene, your voice soft and quiet. though the scene kept going, dean couldn't take his eyes off you, the movie just background noise now as his eyes traced over your features that he had memorized many a time, but always found himself wanting to learn again.

finally, when the movie was over, you felt his eyes on you, and you lifted your head, cheeks flushing when you met his intense gaze.

"what?" you ask, your voice barely above a soft whisper.

dean didn't reply right away, his eyes full of adoration and love as he continued to take in your face, his heart beating just a little faster as he noticed the faint blush on your cheeks. "nothin', m'just looking," he mumbles, reaching up his free hand to brush a stray hair from your face.

that only makes your cheeks flush harder, your eyes rolling in faux annoyance, but you lean into his touch slightly, eyes fixed on his.

"did you even watch the movie?" you ask accusingly, raising an eyebrow at him.

"i did," he defends, smiling at your reaction to his touch, hand cupping your face and thumb running gently over your cheekbone. "i actually really liked it."

your eyes light up at that, your lips parting softly in surprise as you stare up at him. "you did?"

"mhm. its a good movie. i see why y'like it so much," he says with a gentle shrug, a soft smile playing at the edge of his lips.

"im glad you liked it." you smile widely up at him, your heart warming at the fact that he liked the movie.

dean just smiles softly back down at you, tilting his head down to place a kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering for a heartbeat before leaning his head down and pressing his forehead to yours.

you two stay like that for a moment, eyes closed and just breathing each other in, basking in the rare moment of peace. dean breaks the silence first, opening his eyes to look at you, but not pulling away as he speaks softly, his voice a deep whisper. "m'always here for you, sweetheart. always gonna be here."

you open your eyes to meet his as he speaks, shocked yet again by how well he knows you, how he's able to read you and see that something was wrong. you don't say anything for a moment, lump forming in your throat and your eyes scanning his as if trying to memorize the way the colors swirl in his eyes. your head is telling you to brush off his words, mutter back something about how you know that, and how you're 'fine', but you're just so tired, and you can't bring yourself to.

"thank you," is the quiet whisper that comes from you in response, the sincereness evident in your soft voice, and the emotion written across your face.

dean just pulls you closer with his arm around your shoulders, pressing another kiss to your forehead, tucking you into his neck and resting his chin on your head, holding you close and silently letting you know that he understands.

"never gonna leave you, sweet girl, you've always got me," he mutters into your hair, his other arm coming up to wrap around you, holding you impossibly closer to him.

another older movie comes up on autopilot, one that dean thinks you've both watched before, but he doesn't make any move to stop it, just holding you close, gently rubbing your back and hip until you fall asleep in his arms. when he hears your breaths even out, he turns down the volume of the movie, pressing a kiss in your hair and letting his lips linger, inhaling your scent that smells like home.

"goodnight sweetheart, i love you," he whispers into your hair, even though he knows you can't hear him, and dean doesn't think he's ever meant any words more in his life. he spends the night holding you, and though his back hurts when he wakes up the next morning on the couch, the sight of you, asleep in his arms, expression peaceful, dean just thinks about everything he would give, just to keep you happy.

there it is, my first fic! lmk what u think and please feel free to send in asks/requests on my blog or on the google form linked on my page

tysm for reading and I hope ur having a great day/night! - bri

[a-murmur-of-a-prayer]

Sometimes I think I’m doing okay with my dog’s death and the next I’m having a breakdown in the shower because I realized that the next time I go to my parents’ house I won’t hear barking before I go in the door.

My dog was the best antidote to my lack of self-worth, depression, etc - because regardless of how unmanageable I was for everyone in my life, regardless how much I pissed anyone off, talked too much or too loudly or had opinions other people disagreed with…my dog, obviously, did not. I couldn’t do anything to piss her off except feeding her two minutes late, which of course got forgotten the second I fed her. She was one of the reasons I didn’t take my own life four years ago, because your pet won’t understand why you’re not coming back. God, it seems so stupid - obviously she was in horrible pain and I wanted her to have peace, I knew she was getting older, and it’s ridiculous how much this is affecting me.

I think I’m just having a hard time dealing with death and the passing of time in general right now. Because it’s not just about my dog, she’s just the most important person or animal in my life I’ve lost. My grandmas are going to die. My parents are going to die. All my role models, aunts, uncles, favorite professors from college. And then there’s no guarantee that I’ll die before my friends or sister either. It’s crazy cause obviously you know this growing up - I’ve been to funerals. But it’s hitting me so much harder. I honestly hope I die young, in my 30s or something, because I don’t think I can stand it if a bunch of my peers go first. I don’t take care of myself for myself, I do it for other people, or for the version of me I want other people to see.

I hated being 16 but right now I just want to go back to being 16. When I had just met my best friends, when my sister hadn’t had her eating disorder, when I was living with my parents and my dog was there all the time and she was never going to die and when I had hope for life in general. Yes I have a job now, yes I have an apartment and a degree and have started to undo traumas from my childhood but if all these things keep changing it’s not even worth it. I think I was meant to die at 20 - and I may as well have because I don’t know who I am anymore.

[darylbae]

Daryl and breath play <3

Imagine him choking you out from behind as he roughly fucks up into you after you fucked up yet *another* resource run; drool running down your chin as you babble incoherently as his thick cock splits you open so wonderfully!

there ain't no god here — daryl dixon🩰

in which you mess up on a run, and daryl has had enough

note: SMUT WARNING! do not consume this content if you are under the age of 18, i am not liable for you reading past this point.

warnings: rough sex, dirty talk, bad writing.

You and Daryl have never had a nice relationship. From the moment the pair of you met, you'd been at each other's throats. Always arguing, always antagonizing each other, but there was something sizzling between the two of you. Which neither of you had noticed. Maggie said it first. When you'd all turned up to the farm, she'd asked you if the two of you were a thing, to which you laughed in her face. "As if I'd let Daryl put his hands on me," you exclaimed. "Dream on, girl," he'd call out as he passed the two of you outside. When the farm had been lost and you'd all found the prison, the two of you were incessant on arguing. It was just a constant cat fight between the two of you. Glenn had even made a comment about it feeling 'weirdly sexual'. Rick had learned to keep you apart, for the sake and sanity of the group. He was surprised you'd made it this far without physically fighting or fucking. The long winter on the road, hunting in the woods, finally finding Alexandria, you two just never clicked. It had even become a game of sorts, to inconvenience the other one, to push them just that little bit off the edge. The two of you were so caught up in this game of riling up the other, that people within the community were beginning to assume there was a spark between you. And Daryl heard none of it, until Spencer had approached him once. "Hey," he spoke awkwardly, too afraid to look at the archer who was aggressively buffing his crossbow with a cloth. "What." Daryl grumbled, not even bothering to look up from his weapon. He could tell by the lanky figure it was Spencer. "I, uh," Spencer was rambling, unable to get to his point, "I wanted to know if anything was going on between you and Y/N." "Why do you care?" "I was gonna ask her out, well, I was gonna ask her over for dinner. There's not much in the way of dating anymore." Spencer faltered, looking anywhere except at Daryl. "But I didn't know if there was actually a thing between you two, so I thought I should ask instead of listening to rumors." Daryl finally stopped fussing his crossbow. "Why would I care? Do what you want with 'er." Just as Spencer had retreated down the porch steps, Daryl had immediately regret what he'd said. But why? You frustrated him to his core, you got under his skin, you knew just how to make him tick. And he hated it, at least he thought he did. All he used to worry about were walkers. Now, they'd been pushed to the back burner of his mind. He's been so swept up in this little back and forth with you, that he'd forgotten how terrible the world was for a moment. Did he really care about the thought of you spending time with another guy?

Daryl had watched in dismay as you spent less time winding him up, and more time walking the streets with Spencer. It was almost as if you were riling him up by walking past the porch he'd sit on. It was jealousy, and almost a sick possession to want you all to himself. You, unbeknownst to Daryl, had no interest in Spencer. You spoke to him and spent time with him purely as a friend and to make connections within the community. So when you'd been sent on a run with Daryl, it felt nice to not have to play a part anymore. To just be around someone you were yourself with. Of course you cared about Daryl enough to not see him get killed, but the two of you have always been at each other's throats. That was kind of your thing. "We taking a car?" You asked Rick, folding your arms as you stood beside Michonne. It was supposed to be the four of you, but Deanna wanted to see Michonne and Rick. "My bike." Daryl retorted. "I suppose it makes it easier to throw myself off," you reasoned, scowling at Daryl, and you could see Michonne chuckle into her hand. "Please," Daryl bit back, striding towards his bike, "gives me a break from you." You had your arms around Daryl, holding on tightly as you sped down a long, narrow road. The wind whipped your hair into your face, and every time you felt inclined to swipe it away, Daryl made sure both of your hands were around him. He'd gripped your hand and forced it back onto his waist as you tried to smooth your hair down. When you'd gotten to a small town outside of the area, Daryl dismounted and helped you off the bike. It was the least he could do. You did your usual sweep of each store, and taking the stock you needed, occasionally being annoying and getting a series of grunts in return. "Didn't ya ever learn to shut up?" He spat, waving you off as he entered another aisle. You rolled your eyes, shoving stuff into the backpack you'd brought along. "Didn't you ever learn to treat women nicely?" You had aggravated him the entire run. Instead of moving things out the way so both of you could pass, you'd just climb over it and let Daryl deal with it himself. Instead of listening to him, you'd go off and do exactly what you wanted to. Daryl felt like a babysitter. "Surprised Spencer puts up with ya." Daryl mumbled, shining a flashlight into a dark back room, only to find dead walkers and upturned furniture. "Excuse me?" "Ya heard me, girl." "Spencer doesn't have to put up with anything." You remarked, folding your arms. "So it's just me then? Ya annoy me and not ya own damn boyfriend!" Daryl's voice grew louder, the two of you so caught up in arguing that you'd almost forgotten the dead were out to get you. "Spencer's not my boyfriend!" Oh, Daryl thought. His heart lifted for a moment, until he'd seen a walker come out of the room behind you. Without hesitation, he shot an arrow through it's skull, and watched as you caught your breath. "Get in 'ere." Daryl demanded, grabbing your hand and leading you into a vacant bathroom. "Always messin' up the damn thing." "What?" You answered, voice small and still shaking with fear. You'd never come that close to death before. A walkers hands had grabbed your shoulders, it's teeth mere inches away from you. "Why don't ya listen to me, huh?" He whisper-yelled, his grip still firm on your hand. "Always runnin' off and doin' what ya want. Ya need manners, girl." "I need manners? When have you ever said a nice word to me? When have you ever thought about me in any positive way?" Daryl paused, was it the time for this?

"Every fuckin' day. Every mornin', every night. Every damn time I see ya, I can't not think about ya." Daryl admitted, frustration still laced in his voice. "All ya do is drive me insane." Both of you were breathing heavily, tension still clouding the air in this very small bathroom. You were almost chest to chest with the little space available in here. Daryl was thinking with the recently unlocked part of his brain that just contained you. Every glance he'd ever sent your way, every time he'd seen you stretch and show the hem of your underwear, every time he'd look down at you and see those innocent eyes staring back up at him. There was nothing that felt as right as this. His lips were on yours, and you'd moved against his like you'd done it regularly. Hell, you thought about it at times. When you were lonely in your cell, in your room in Alexandria, the hatred went hand in hand with passion, and you were so overfilled with lust that it had all blurred into one. Every bitter word the two of you threw at each other, it fueled the fire that you were both burning in now. He'd gripped at the clothes he wanted gone, and you'd silently obey him. His calloused hands swiped over your neck, and it had awoken a side of you that was powered off when the world ended. "Oh, you like that, huh?" He asked, his voice no longer containing it's usual gruffness. It was whiny, almost poking fun at how you were putty in his hands. You just sighed in response, giving up any self control you had. It was all his now, to do with it as he pleased. "Gotta teach ya a lesson, girl," he breathed into your ear, hands on your shoulders and spinning you round the other way. You hadn't realized the mirror facing you, your tinged cheeks and sleepy eyes clouded over with lust.

Daryl's lips grazed the curve of your neck, daring to place a kiss on your soft, pure skin. He wanted to toy with you, like you did with him every day. Sauntering around, giving looks you'd only give to him, leaving him to deal with his hard-on in the middle of the night. "Ya gonna listen to me now, hm." You could feel his hands gliding closer to the inside of your thigh, heat burning between your legs. You didn't just want it, you needed it. You arched your back into him, rubbing against whatever you could. Needed the friction, the look in your eyes almost primal. Daryl smirked at you in the mirror, holding your gaze as he spat on his hand. Your fingers squeezed the counter as he slid into you, the two of you completely in sync as you moaned out for each other. The feeling purely nostalgic. "God," you cried, your eyebrows knitted together and your lip quivering. "There ain't no God here, girl, just me." One of his hands gripped your thigh as rammed into you, jerking your hip bones into the counter. If you weren't so wrapped up in Daryl, it would ache. But you couldn't stop, not even to readjust, you needed Daryl to carry you to your high. His other hand snaked up your body, sensually rubbing at your breasts, of which he'd caught glimpses of for years. Finally seeing them felt... satisfying. All the times you'd fiddle with your shirt, exposing them just barely, and Daryl would have to be a gentleman and look away. His hand finally reached your neck and he'd gripped both sides with his fingers and thumb. He'd peered at you through the mirror, catching the whites of your eyes as you rolled them back. Seeing how delighted you looked, it made him feel good. He knew just how to make you tick. "Ya gonna do as I say from now on," he breathed, squeezing tighter on your throat, "you're all mine, girl." "Yeah," you croaked, Daryl's grip on your throat and him inside of you rendered you unable to speak, you were just allowing him to do whatever he wanted. "All yours." He'd suddenly stopped and you whimpered at the loss of contact. Daryl had turned you around again, hooking his arms under your ass and lifting you onto the counter. "Wanna see that pretty face." He'd entered you again, filling you up and you were back to seeing stars as he pumped into you. His grunts and moans were close to sending you over the edge. His hand found your throat again, squeezing on the familiar spot and Daryl's eyes flickered to your breasts as the bounced with every thrust. They were entrancing. He was close to finishing, but he wanted to savor this moment. He wanted this, you, over and over again. He could see the drool escaping your lips and running down your chin, some dropping onto your breasts. He almost finished at the sight of it all. "Let go for me, girl." He moaned, bringing you closer to him for the final few thrusts. "Come on. Good girl." Your body took over, sending you over the edge and quivering on him. Daryl held your body tight, careful not to let you go. His rhythm had gotten sloppier, he couldn't hold it, just knowing this was all with you, all for you, he let go himself and caught your gaze as he did so. There was nothing he'd change about this, the tiny bathroom, the argument beforehand, the relationship the two of you had before. It all led to this, and he'd do it again. Exactly the same.

[snowy-vee]

ALL MINE (3)

oblivious loser bsf! ellie williams x posesive popular bsf!fem reader

n/a: I may have rushed things! but I prefer to trust the process and cook a little bit more. I hope you all like it. Also, does the taglist works how I've done it or there's another way to do a taglist?

trigger warnings;; mention of vomit (1), idk if catalog it into violence because there's none but intense argue(?

Pt.1 HERE

pt.2 HERE

pt.4 HERE

Inform yourself about what’s happening and how to help! FREE PALESTINE, FREE CONGO.

Ellie was in such a boring class that she barely noticed when it ended and people started to pack up; a few of her classmates were waiting for her at the entrance of the door, so she hurried out with them. They discussed the topics covered in class today as they walked to the dinning hall.

“Ellie!” you called out, causing both her and her classmates to turn; you were on the opposite path from her, so you had to run a bit to reach her side faster. You opened your gym bag and pulled out the folder Ellie had left in your room last night after studying together. “Your folder, you said you needed it today.”

You were dressed in your cheerleading uniform since you had practice right now. Ellie, who had been a little dazed watching the movement of your skirt as you ran, nodded, feeling her cheeks burn, and indeed, you looked so pretty, especially when you said goodbye and turned around, showing the small bow in the back of your hair.

“Sometimes I forget you’re friends with someone so popular. How is it possible that you’re friends with her?” one of them said, mesmerized by your presence, like the rest of the group

“Well, we are, best friends,” Ellie asserted with a smile. It’s true that she was annoyed when people questioned your friendship, but she was happy to have you as a friend, and perhaps she also enjoyed the feeling of envy from others…

“Yeah but she is popular, pretty, hangs out with her kind of cliché, goes to every party invited ¡Hell! She could be an influencer if she wanted to… and you are you”

“Hey, I have my own charm” Ellie said softly feeling a little bit offended “Whatever, we’ve been friend for so many years and that’s what matters”

“Really? Then do you know if the rumours about her and Abby are true? I think it’s the hottest gossip on campus, the cheerleading captain and the captain of the women’s basketball team.”

“They’re all lies, don’t believe any of that. She wouldn’t be with someone like Abby,” Ellie said, dismissing the comments, and she sounded so sure of what she was saying, especially because you assured her of it the same night of the party.

Finally, you had arrived home, you were so tired that as soon as you got to your room, you collapsed on the bed.

“At least change before you throw yourself on the bed,” Ellie leaned against the door of your room. You nodded, kicking off your shoes and getting up to grab your pajamas; you began to undress in front of her, caring little, as it wasn’t the first time.

Ellie, without changing her position, watched as you slowly untied the knot of your top and let it fall, exposing your purple bra, unbuttoning the button of your skirt and slowly lowering the zipper. The skirt fell quickly, revealing your white panties with purple bows matching the bra.

She bit her lip as she looked at your body until she reached your collarbones; there was a hickey, and it looked recent. “Did… Abby do that?”

“Hmm?” You looked at her, she pointed to her collarbone, making you look at yourself in the mirror, seeing the hickey.

‘Shit, I told her not to leave marks.’ you thought rolling your eyes mentally

“Did she do that to you?” Ellie had a slight grimace of disgust as she asked the question, obviously she noticed.

“Of course not! It was some guy I was dancing with.”

“You swear? Because you know that I do not like Abby at all.”

You fucking knew it, that’s why when you were mad at her you used to call Abby. You knew how much it would hurt her, you had no idea why they hated each other and everytime you asked her she said that she had her reasons and was protecting you.

“I swear, I would never do that to you. Abby does want something with me, I think she’s obssesed with me, she’s telling people things that never happen, spreading false rumors,” you sighed as you finished putting on your pajamas, approaching Ellie and putting your hands on her shoulders. “At the party today, she tried to talk to me and go further, but I told her no, to leave me alone, she got really mad and threatened to keep spreading rumors, and I told her I didn’t care.”

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this? I could’ve defend you.”

“Oh, Ellie, please, I know you can but do you know how many rumors there are about me? I don’t care what others think; I care that you trust me. Do you trust me?”

“Completely,” she smiled before you kissed her on the cheek and let her go while you went to the bathroom to remove your makeup changing the topic.

Ellie smiled too, of course she trusted you, that’s why she was now in front of her classmates denying the rumors, no matter how much you didn’t care, she wasn’t going to let people talk nonsense about you. No one knew you like she did.

“Are you sure? Because Abby has been telling the whole team how much of a naughty bitch, how good she could take her seven inches strap, other nasty things I can’t repeat and that she had video proof…” the guy beside Ellie spoke while looking at his phone.

“What? Unbelievable! Isn’t that like revenge corn?” Another girl said looking at his phone as well.

Her smile dropped. “What did you just say?”

She stopped walking, and with her, the group. The guy who said that showed her his phone, it was a group chat with the football and basketball team, and Abby had sent different pictures that one could only see them once. “You’ve seen them?”

“N-no she hasn’t showed them yet but would do it soon…”

“Can you confirm that she was talking about her”

“It’s pretty much her name and physic description, yeah,” Ellie licked her lips, nodding slowly.

“Does anyone know where Abby is right now?”

(What happened in the fight?)

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

You began to climb the stairs to your floor, Ellie and you lived on the first floor so it took less than a minute, phone in your hand, calling Ellie for the twelfth time. Since you finished practice, you had been calling her to come pick you up without getting a response, not even a message.

By the time you were turning the keys and opening the door, your whole body was filled with worry, but seeing her shoes, you felt a little relieved. “Ellie? Hey, if you’re not going to come pick me up, let me know beforehand! And answer my calls even if it’s just for a second! You had me worried.”

You took off your shoes and left the keys at the entrance, noticing her backpack lying on the floor with all her things scattered about. You sighed, leaving your bag on the kitchen counter and crouching down to start picking up her things. “Ellie?”

You finished picking up and placed everything inside. The door to her room was halfway open, and you could see the light was on. “Don’t you hear me calling your name?”

You entered the room, placing the backpack next to the wardrobe. Ellie was sitting on the edge of her bed with her back to you. The atmosphere felt so tense that it made you involuntarily swallow.

“I want you to be honest with me,” she said in an intimidating tone, suddenly a shiver ran down your spine. “And I want the truth, if you lie to me…”

She let out an incredulous laugh. “If you lie to me again…” Your breath caught, thinking about what lie you had told Ellie, all small except for… Impossible, Abby wouldn’t spill, you had Abby under control.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. What’s wrong?” You tried to approach, but Ellie raised her hand.

“Stay where you are, or move away from there.”

“Ellie-”

“Shut the fuck up!” she interrupted you. “Did you or did you not fuck Abby?”

What you were praying that wasn’t the problem was exactly the problem. You didn’t know where to hide, your legs seemed to want to flee, you wished the ground would swallow you up at that very moment. You tried to say something, but your lips were trembling. Were you going to lie again? No. It was obvious that she already knew everything; she just wanted to hear it from you.

“Did you or did you not fuck Abby?” Ellie repeated the question, now more demanding and intimidating, making your eyes start to fill with tears. You hated confrontations, especially if it was your fault.

“Yes,” you whispered, looking at the ground and clasping your hands, embarrassed by how ashamed you were starting to feel.

“What? I can’t hear you.”

“Oh my fucking god, Ellie! Yes, I fucked her, I fucking did!” you exclaimed, tired of how tense your body was becoming. She nodded slowly, getting up from her bed and turning to face you. “What the fuck? What have you done?”

Her lip was split with dried blood on it, she also had a bruise next to her eye and a split eyebrow. Your concerned face made her chuckle. “If this worries you, you should see Anderson.”

You unconsciously approached, trying to touch the wounds, but Ellie stopped your hand at that moment. You were maintaining such intense eye contact that it seemed like you were communicating. You were asking her to let you clean her wounds and disinfect them; she was asking you how you could betray her like this.

“You lied to my fucking face. Was it funny?” Her grip felt more painful. “What? Were you two laughing at me behind my back?” You two were close, but Ellie started taking steps closer to you, so you had no choice but to take some steps back until your were was pressed against the wall.

“It’s not like that, Ellie… my wrist- you are hurting me,” you said, feeling tears running down your face.

“Not like that? And how the fuck was it?” She screamed, making you feel smaller and making you cry more. “Explain it to me! Because I can’t understand why the fuck my best friend went behind my back to fuck the person I hate the most out of everybody on the fucking earth. Oh God! I knew you were a whore, but I never thought you would sacrifice our friendship for some sex.”

You couldn’t answer as you cried; for a moment, Ellie loosened her grip on your wrist, and you could see her eyes also filling with tears. You couldn’t hate yourself more at that moment.

“Why? I just want to know. There has to be an explanation for you to do this to me.”

“It meant nothing, I swear, it was just a few times, nothing serious,” you tried to excuse yourself, wiping your tears with your hands, but it was useless, they kept falling.

“Did she give you the hickey?” You sighed exhausted, looking at the other side, but she grabbed your jaw, forcing you to face her and look her in the eyes. “Answer.”

You nodded. Ellie let go of you, shaking her head, raising her hands in the air, defeated, watching you slide until you were sitting on the floor.

“Incredible… When was the last time except for the party?”

“That morning… She was the one who drove me to class; we did it on the couch. But then I ignored her once we got to class, that’s why you saw me arguing with her in the hallway.” You didn’t even know why you were giving so much explanation.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

Ellie really wanted a clear answer, but it seemed so pathetic to tell her that you were fucking Abby to mentally punish her for annoying you. It was your way of torturing her without her finding out because many things Ellie did annoyed you, especially when she didn’t do things your way. You knew perfectly well how she would react if she found out, but you never thought it would hurt you so much. You shrugged, looking at her; you didn’t know what to say, but you knew what not to say.

“I can’t see you right now,” Ellie said, grabbing her jacket and leaving the room.

“Wait, where are you going?” you asked, almost crawling to follow her. “Ellie!”

You shouted her name, but the door slamming shut was enough to make you shut up and leave you there, alone on the floor, crying, and you could have kept going if it weren’t for the sound of a phone. Ellie’s phone.

You approached the bed where it was, seeing that she was being called. Dina was calling her and also sending messages; you managed to read one above:

Dina&lt;333

Of course, you can come to my house, but are you…

As if someone had kicked you in the stomach, you ran to the bathroom to vomit until you couldn’t anymore. You had pushed Ellie towards Dina yourself.

No, that’s not how the story should continue. Everything was going so well. After the party, Dina started ignoring Ellie all week, and she barely wondered why the raven-haired girl wasn’t talking to her like before, because Ellie was busy looking out for you.

She would leave her classes directly to find you, not giving Abby a chance to talk to you. She accompanied you at the beginning of your classes even if it meant she was late for hers… She was there for you 24/7, and it was so perfect for you. What was the mistake you made? Did you make it, or was it Abby? It was her. She ruined your precious environment and your relationship with Ellie.

At least that’s what you thought as you grabbed your keys and quickly left the house. Oh, you were going to fuck Abby. Fuck her UP.

taglist;; @boobdrug @lovelyxbaby @pedropascalsbbg @cherryimaa

[vampireimiko]

pregnant reader x miguel o’hara: gabis first parent teacher conference and they’ve gotta explain why she keeps saying her dads gonna whoop the kids ass whenever they piss her off

parent teacher conference

warnings, none at all !! just like 1 cuss word or something 💀

note, THANK YEW FOR REQUESTING VENUS 🫶🏾🫶🏾, this is the longest oneshot ive ever made😭 anyway i hope you all enjoy !!

It's Parent Teacher Conference night, and Miguel finds himself sitting near the back of the auditorium to keep an eye on the meeting. There seems to be a bit of arguing between teachers and parents about the workload being too much for some students, when he senses a presence next to him and looks up to see that you, his wife, sits to his left, who is visibly pregnant and with her own plate filled with food.

"Oh my god- Miguel! This food is so good, do you want some?" You said, mouth full of a bit of everything on your plate. Miguel chuckled at your antics and shook his head no.

"As entertaining as this is" He says pointing towards the arguments in front of him, "I'm just ready to have our 1 on 1 with Gabriella's teacher."

You agreed with him, as you two had been sitting here for quite some time. But just like clockwork, Gabriella's teacher, Ms. Rose walked up to you and Miguel letting you know she was ready to have your conference.

Ms. Rose greeted you both with a warm smile, her eyes briefly glancing at your visibly pregnant belly before focusing on the matter at hand. "Thank you both for being here tonight! I appreciate your dedication to Gabriella's education."

You exchanged a nod and a smile, grateful for the teacher's acknowledgment. Miguel stepped forward, his voice filled with genuine interest. "We're looking forward to hearing about Gabriella's progress and any areas where we can support her better."

"Of course! Please if you could follow me to my classroom and we can get straight into discussing." With that being said, you and Miguel get up from the seats with him having to help you. It was getting hard for you stand up by yourself and you absolutely could not wait to have this baby out of you. Anyway enough of that, you and Miguel make your way too the classroom following behind Ms. Rose.

She opens the door and encourages you two to sit wherever. As you settled into the seats, she began sharing Gabriella's achievements and areas for improvement, providing a comprehensive overview of her academic journey.

The both of you listened to her intently, focusing on what Gabriella needed a bit more help on. You and Miguel took turns asking questions and clarification's on certain things. You could tell Ms. Rose genuinely cared about her students, taking the time to learn they're strengths and challenges.

"Now despite Gabriella being absolutely wonderful, there is one more thing I'd like to address." Ms Rose said switching her tone to a more serious one. You and Miguel looked at one another then back at her.

"Yes?"

"I've been overhearing Gabriella tell people that Mr. O'Hara here would come up to the school and in her words, 'whoop anybody who pisses me off'."

The both of your eyes widened. Miguel knew he said that, you know he said that, hell even the baby inside of you knew he said it! Not only did be say that, but he meant it aswell. Nobody is messing with his babygirl.

"Miguel!" You slapped his shoulder, putting on a serious front up in front of Ms. Rose, knowing damn well you wanted so badly to burst out laughing.

The room fell into an awkward silence as Ms. Rose observed the exchange between you, Miguel, and your shared reaction. Your attempt to maintain a serious demeanor in front of her was quickly crumbling as your suppressed laughter threatened to burst forth.

Miguel's face turned a shade of red, realizing the weight of his words and the potential consequences they might have had. He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself, his eyes darting between you, Ms. Rose, and the floor.

"I-I apologize Ms. Rose. That was a misguided attempt at humor. I never intended for her to come to school and say something like that." He said rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Ms. Rose, her expression a mix of amusement and understanding, nodded. "I appreciate your honesty, Miguel. It's essential to address such statements to ensure a safe and inclusive environment for everyone."

You struggled to contain your laughter, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Taking a deep breath, you managed to compose yourself enough to speak without bursting into giggles. "Yes, Ms. Rose, we apologize for any confusion caused. We'll make sure to have a conversation with Gabriella about appropriate language and the importance of respectful interactions."

Ms. Rose's lips curved into a gentle smile. "I understand that children can sometimes pick up on our words and interpret them in unexpected ways. It's important for us as adults to model the behavior we want to see in them."

Fast foward to being done with the conference, you and Miguel were walking too the car. He stopped the both of you and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion as he leans down to your stomach.

"Just to let you know, that same statement in there goes for you too."

𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; 𝐖𝐎𝐎 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰 !! 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐦 (𝐢𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐟𝐮𝐥) 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 !!

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

[evieelyzabethh]

Love your work. <3 Could you write something with reader x spike where they're kinda' pining for one another, but one night he gets injured and has to stay over at her house? She patches him up and maybe offers him a bite? Doesn't have to be nsfw but +5 cool points if it is. <3

Hello, my loves, long time no see!!! I hope this is to your liking <3

Spike is so incredibly reckless. You knew this, he knew, everybody knew that Spike was a walking accident waiting to happen'. He likes to think he can handle himself. "I'm bad, baby," he'd tell you, "M' the big bad slayer killer. I can handle a few scratches." But you were never worried about what he could handle, you were worried about the fact that his blood was always staining your couch. That and the fact that his lack of self-preservation kept you up at night.

Usually, he has some decorum. He doesn't come to you with every scrape and bruise, even though you handled him with much more care than he was capable of extending to himself. It was his way of punishing himself, depriving himself of your head scratches and soft hands for bothering you too much. You scolded him for this, of course. It seems like its every other week (more like every other day) when you and he argue, most often in front of the Scoobies who waited anxiously for you take your arguments to the bedroom, about him leaving you to worry about whether or not he was ash.

"I mean, fuck Spike. Is it really that hard to just give me a call if you plan on bleeding at your place. A little 'Hi, yeah, I don't think I need my wounds treated with modern medicine, I'm gonna take my chances with old whisky and tetanus like the good ol' days'." And every time he takes his well-earned lecture with a smirk and a bowed head.

"Yes, mother, next time I'll break your door down at three in the morning for some pretty pink bandages."

"If you were so ashamed of the pretty pink bandages, maybe you should think before you run into knives!"

Spike has maybe told the truth a grand total of two times in his whole life, so his word means absolutely nothing. He continues to ignore your street like the plague unless it's an absolute emergency.

Now was an emergency.

You barely heard the faint knocks on your door from your bedroom, where you sat on your bed, music blasting from your stereo and some reality court show droning on in the background, catching your attention when someone decided to be particularly messy. You had thought it was your neighbors blind dog scratching at your door again until something large and loud hit it. Quickly arming yourself with a frying pan, you crept to your door, tearing it open for a very injured Spike to nearly fall flat on your floor before he caught himself using your doorframe.

His left hand clutched at his bleeding side and he walked with a limp over to his couch which now had a plastic cover. His dead heart was touched.

"Aw, you were waiting for me, " he croaked out. He fell on his back, one of his hands falling over the side and his eyes closing as soon as his head at the pillow. His shirt had claw marks that were lined with blood and his duster had barely escaped the carnage, a few holes separate from the preexisting moth holes sticky with some supernatural substance.

"Have to be prepared when it comes to you." You patted his cheek, thumbing over his cheekbones to try and arouse some consciousness. "Can't have you fallin' asleep on me. You might not wake up." You weren't going to leave his side until you were sure he wasn't going to die in your absence.

He babbled unintelligently, his mouth moving but having no connection to his brain to form any sort of actual thought. His eyes flit between closed and aware, his head moving to catch up with the spinning room, his mouth impossibly dry, and his head pounding. In his head, he insisted he was fine, but the words wouldn't come out right. He spat them out garbled and messy until he was too choked up to even try anymore.

He was barely conscious when he felt your wrist at his mouth. He had enough sense to shake his head and nudge away your wrist with his nose, but his lack of strength made his attempts futile. "No," he mumbled.

"You'll feel better," your voice swam around in his head until the words lost meaning and he just smiled at the sound of your voice. You swiped your thumb across one of his canines, the red contrasting with the pearly whites of his teeth swiftly wiped away by the pink of his tongue. After the taste of your blood was on his tongue, his sense was surrendered to instinct as he brought your wrist to his lips.

You didn't know what you were getting into. Vampires get their life force from blood, so it just made sense to have him feed from you to expedite the healing process. The more he drank, the louder your heartbeat grew in your ear and the closer he pulled you to him. You had only done this once before, when you were both drunk and dizzy and jokes being whispered in your ear turned into tiny nips from your neck that Buffy nearly walked in on.

In complete shock of what had happened then, you never brought it up, halfway convincing yourself that it never happened in the first place. If it did happen, he had enough sense to pull away then and you hoped he had the sense the pull away now, but now was much different. Now, there was a newfound hunger. A desperation. Like he had been starving himself for years and you were the first bite of food he had eaten. Had to have been good food to, with the way he inhaled you, indulged in you like you were some ambrosia or golden mead.

"Spike," you moaned. "I'm getting a bit light-headed." Your voice was high and thin, fearful as you made attempts to pull your arm from his lips. Through his haze, his fangs contracted back, and his tongue swiped whatever lingered on your skin.

"I'm sorry." Sorry for going too far, sorry for almost turning you into an empty Capri Sun pouch, sorry for being reckless again.

" 's ok."

You wobbled a bit as you stood, fingers wrapped around your wound as you shuffled into your kitchen in pursuit of your first aid kit. "You gonna tell me what happened?" He only groaned from the couch.

"Maybe tomorrow. I'm tired." You laughed on your way over to him, wrist already covered in gauze with an all too familiar needle and thread in hand.

"You're tired?" The smell of your blood was all too pungent, still. He turned his head towards the wall, studying the numerous music posters and paintings you had hanging.

"Going out to fight evil is a very hard job." You chuckled.

"I know. That's why I stay in here to patch you up." Your fingers were like magic. They always had a way of calming him down. Especially the way you hummed to yourself while you worked. You were never content with just silence. "I expect an answer in the morning." He smiled.

"Yes, ma'am." He fell asleep before you even finished and by the time you were done, you were too tired to walk the down the hall to your bed. You laid your head down on his chest, with no heartbeat to thrum and no breath to rock you, you still fell asleep just like that. Who knew cold bodies were so comfortable.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 12

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: Andrew.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

It’s midnight. The blue digits above the console burn into your irises. You yawn as the headlights flash against a garage door and Andy steers up the driveway. Is this it? His home? 

You sniff and run your hands over your face. Andy shifts into park and kills the engine. He rubs his nose and glances over at you. “You awake, sweetheart?” 

“Mhmm,” you grumble. Regrettably. So much as you would have liked to sleep the whole way there, your mind wouldn’t stop. 

“Right, well, welcome home,” he says, “I’m sorry it took so long.” 

Should you tell him it’s okay? It’s not. You don’t want to be here but worse, you don’t want to go back to where you came from. Your grandmother doesn’t care at all. She didn’t bat an eye at this middle-aged man or that you just left. And you’re stupid. It’s this very man who crushed what was left of your naivete so no, you won’t believe that he cares either. 

Hell, maybe you don’t care. 

“I know it’s late but you could hop in the tub. It’ll help you sleep,” he suggests as he unbuckles his seat belt. “Get all fresh, settle in.” 

He sounds hopeful, almost excited. You’re happy you can’t see him through the dark. Or that he can’t see you. You know he’s smiling but if he could see the look on your face... 

“I’m tired, I just want to lay down.” It’s as much as you can say without lying. 

“Of course, honey,” he reaches over to squeeze your knee. You nearly slap him and scream. You hold back, instead putting your hand over his.  

You slowly pull away and undo your own seat belt. You open the door and he lets go of you reluctantly. You get out and he does the same. He meets you around the hood and you slow as his shadow lurks in the night. His fingertips trail down your arm and he takes your hand in his. 

“We’ll worry about the bags in the morning,” his keys jingle beneath his voice. “You can wear one of my shirts for tonight.” 

You don’t argue. You don’t try to get free of his grip. You just follow him. This is what it’s going to be like. You’ll do what he says and just hope he can’t feel how much you hate it. 

He unlocks the front door and drags you inside. He flips on the lights and you wince in the bright glare. He lets you and you kick your shoes off, leaving them on their sides. You shuffle forward and wander to the archway to your right. 

You take a step and he catches your arm, “hey.” 

“I’ll sleep here...” you point to the couch. 

“What? Bed’s upstairs, sweetie,” he tugs you back, “come on, let’s get settled.” 

You don’t resist. You let him take you upstairs and down a hallway. He opens another door and turns on another light. The bed is draped in navy and ivory. You slip free and trudge across the hazy room. You fall face first onto the mattress. You’re still at last. No more driving. 

“Hey, why don’t you get changed?” He asks as he opens a drawer. 

You don’t react. You turn your back to him and lift yourself to free the blankets from beneath you. You push your legs under it and slump back down. He huffs and his shadow appears on the wall as he closes in. 

“Come on, I got a shirt--” 

“Too tired,” you grumble and pull the blanket to your chin. 

“I know, sweetie, but you’ll feel better. I can still run you a bath.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut and pull the blanket higher. He clicks his tongue and lingers behind you. You shrink down until you think you might just be able to disappear. The floor groans beneath his weight and he finally backs up. You peek out from beneath your lashes. No, you’re still there. Stuck. 

He moves around as you hide in yourself. You sink down into fatigue. Your mind is a storm of anxiety but even that cannot keep you awake. More than anything, you need sleep. You’re tired to the bone. More tired than you’ve ever been in your life. You could sleep forever. You wish you could. That would fix everything. 

Andy fades into you conscious. Your mind turns to static, like a television. There’s only a monochrome crackle between your ears. The world is gone and for an instant, you are not afraid or hurt or angry. Not long enough. 

The hours pass in a blink. When you wake, the digital clock reads just before seven. You close your eyes again. You don’t want to be here. You want to be anywhere else. Yet, you have no escape, only this. Only sleep. Only the void away from feeling and thought.  

The next time you wake, it’s after nine. The other half of the bed is empty. You still don’t move. You sleep even as your head begins to thump. Another hour, and another, and another. Each time you open your eyes, time slips by. Not quick enough. 

“It’s noon,” Andy’s voice cuts through the fog. “I think it’s time to get up, sweetie.” 

His weight dips the bed in front of you and he rubs your shoulder, “come on, you want a coffee? A hot bath? I’ll make you pancakes.” 

“No,” you say and pull the blanket over your head. 

He huffs, “sweetie.” 

“No,” you repeat. 

“What’s going on? You have to at least get up and change. You’ve been in those clothes for two days.” 

“I don’t care.” 

“Sweetie, come on, I know it’s a big change. I thought... I thought we were past this. We’re going to work together,” he coaxes as he yanks on the blanket. He frees it from your grasp and uncovers your face. You squint at him, temples pounding. 

“That’s what you said,” you utter. 

He closes his eyes and puts his chin down. He takes a deep breath and pokes his tongue into his cheek. He lifts his head and his cheeks pinch with tension. 

“I’m being patient. I have been. And generous. I saw the way you were living--” 

“I didn’t ask you to fix me,” you say. “You can’t.” 

“That’s... you’re not broken, sweetie. I’m not trying to fix anything. You’re young and lost and I know it’s a lot but I’m trying to help you build a life--” 

“I’m young and stupid,” you glare at the wall, shuddering under his touch. “Because I believed you. I fell for your fucking lies--” 

“Sweetie, don’t--” 

“And you’re just some old man. I might be too young to know better but what’s your excuse?” You snarl. 

He’s silent. He retracts his hand and turns to sit straight. He drops his shoulders and another exhale slowly wafts from him. 

“My wife died. My son too.” He says, “I was alone and I found you. So don’t sit here and mope like you’re the one who knows pain. We’ve both lost people, I’m trying here, sweetie.” 

You want to laugh. You want to scream. You want to smack him. No, you want to sleep. You turn and roll onto your other side. 

“I’m tired,” you say. 

He grabs your elbow and you expect him to wrench you back. He doesn’t. Instead, he rubs your arm. 

“It’s okay, sweetie, I get it. I’ll be here.” He leans over and presses a kiss to your head. “Waiting for you.” 

He nuzzles your hair and draws away. You lay locked in place until he unlatches from you. The bed moves with his weight as he stands. 

“There’s a whole life waiting here with me.” 

You don’t move, you don’t speak, you don’t breathe until he’s gone. Then it all falls apart. You devolve into hiccuping sobs. You cocoon yourself in the blanket and weep. Its more than just him, more than just the weeks of doubt and self-hatred, it’s a whole lifetime of helplessness.  

The people you want to want you will never and the one person you could never see again won’t leave you alone. 

🎮

A soft weight lands by your feet. A sigh precedes Andy’s appearance as he strides up the side of the bed. He crosses his arms and glares down at you as your eyelids flutter. 

“You need to get dressed.” 

You wince and rub your forehead, “I’m tired.” 

“You’ve been in bed for two days. That’s long enough. Get up.” He demands. 

He's not coaxing anymore. There’s not an ounce of gentleness left in his voice. Or his stance. As you peek up at him, he seems bigger than ever. In that moment, you realise how truly big he is. He might be older but it doesn’t make him weaker than you. 

“Please,” you whine. 

“Look, I don’t want to treat you like a child, but that’s what you’re acting like,” he snips. “So come on. Sit up. I got a bath drawn for you. You’ll get washed up and feel a lot better.” 

“Andy,” you cover your face. 

He moves quickly. He grabs your wrist and pulls your hand away. “No, up.” 

“Hey--” you try to free yourself but he’s too strong. 

You kick and fight, trying to resist him, but he twists your arm and yanks you out of the bed. He holds your hand well above your head. He grips you tight enough that your bones creak. 

“Ow, you’re hurting me--” 

“I’m helping you, sweetie,” he lets you go at last. “So come on. I’ve been working hard to get everything read for you. You’re not going to rot away in bed.” 

You rub your wrist as you hug it to your chest. You’re a mess. You don’t need a mirror to tell you that much. Your hair feels grimy, your skin too, and your clothes stink of your sweat. You’re embarrassed at the realisation. 

“I’m sorry,” you shrink down. 

“I’m not mad. I’m worried,” he insists as he wraps his arm around your back and guides you forward. You don’t get how he isn’t repulsed by you. Deep inside, you hoped he would be. 

You’re pathetic. You’re gross. You're dumb. But he’s still there. He’s persistent.  

Are you ungrateful? 

It’s a nice house. Nicer than your grandmother’s. What is he even asking you for? To change your clothes and wash up? Basic, human acts. You are disgusting. How can he stand you? How can he want you? 

You feel the heat behind your eyes and a tingle in your nose. You need to be alone. You don’t want him to see you crack but you can’t keep it in much longer. 

“Okay, I’m sorry, Andy, I’ll... I’ll clean up,” you try to pull away but he doesn’t let you. 

He takes you into the bathroom. A nice sparkling bathroom with pristine tiles and clawfoot tub and fluffy mat and shining mirrors. It’s more than you could ever hope for or even dream of. 

He lets you go and you draw away at last. You hug yourself as you approach the tub, water lapping up the walls as it fills. He looms behind you. 

“There’s a towel for you,” he says. 

“Sorry,” you apologise again. “Can I just be alone?” 

“Sure, but I’ll check on you. If you need anything, just yell.” 

“Fine, sure, yeah,” you rub your neck and refuse to look at him.  

You’re embarrassed. You always hated the feeling that you were a loser. That you’re the dirty kid. You always smelled like your grandmother’s house and your clothes were always slightly wrinkly and you never had nice hair or new shows. You were always just the kid your parents left behind and your grandma wanted to forget. 

The door shuts and you turn to fall onto the closed toilet seat. You bend and cradle your head, bawling as you smother all noise in your hands. You hate yourself so much. You hate that you fell for his trick. You hate that you let it get this far. Even if it means Kara is safe, it doesn’t feel worth it anymore. 

You get up before the tub can overflow and shut it off. You undress and step into the steaming water. It’s too hot but you don’t care. You lower yourself in and close your eyes. Even if you feel unnerved by this strange house, the heat is soothing. 

In the moment of calm, you try to sort through it all. The grief, the fear, the anger, the doubt. You can’t let him take everything. You have to figure out what you can hold onto. What he will give you. He keeps saying he wants to give you everything, that he’ll take care of you. So, you’ll ask nicely, right? 

You sit up and grab the soap. You lather up a loofah without much attention to the act. He says you’re in this together. He’s making promises and you’re just asking that he follows through... 

You never asked anyone for anything. You never could. You were never afforded the luxury of expectation. This feels weird. It’s like you’re selling yourself for simple things and yet, he’s offering you more than you ever had before. 

Compared to what you know, the unknown might not be so bad. 

[shotmrmiller]

Needs must

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

WC: 2.1K

TW: prostitution, explicit fingering, and smut-ish.

ive got 4 other ideas for this goddamn escort au and one of em is MY BOY JOHNNY. oof i cant wait. im mad it took me this long to do this. I wrote this listening to rich sex by nicki minaj.

You had needs. No matter how magical, a toy can only do so much for you. You wanted the praise of another human being—the warm touch of their hands around your waist, your neck. God, you needed to get laid. But after the disaster that was your last relationship, how nasty it ended, you couldn’t even ring your ex-girlfriend up for a booty call. 

Sucking your teeth, you look at your phone. Noon. Well, maybe one of your friends you’re about to meet up with for a weekly Saturday brunch knew someone who would be interested in a no-strings-attached situationship.

—

Flipping the card in your hands,  you chewed on your bottom lip in deliberation and looked down at the business card— the color of bone with raised black lettering. Ghost, it read, with his number on the back. How you ended up with this in your hand made you almost regret having reprobates for friends. An escort. That’s what they had shamelessly suggested. You had almost choked on your eggs benedict when one of them pulled out a contact card from their wallet and placed it by your mimosa. I mean, really. Preparing to argue about their lack of sense, they brought up a great point. It was either this, someone who was there for what you needed whenever you needed it, or your toys which were in a pathetic state from constant use. Your ex called it quits because you simply couldn't find the time to maintain a proper relationship— your demanding job took up most of it. You couldn’t believe you were about to do this.

Ghost. What a name. But you suppose it didn’t matter what his name was, only that he could do his job, and with the way your friend gushed over him— he’d leave you walking side to side. You needed this. You worked too hard for too many hours to not spend your money on some self-care. 

Fuck it. Maybe he will be just a one-time thing, you thought, and sent his number a text. 

—

Closing the door of your car, you briskly walk towards the small cafe Ghost had sent the address to; A cute little quaint coffee shop. Coming to a stop, you straighten your office skirt and run a hand through your hair before opening the door. Breathing in the coffee aroma, you look around for who you’re looking for, spotting him sitting in the back. The click of your heels echoes inside the cafe, catching the attention of your awaiting companion. He looks up and rises to stand, and it takes you aback. It was like witnessing a grizzly standing on its hind legs. Jesus.

He was tall, so tall, and broad. Wearing a black beanie and covering the lower half of his face with a mask, he extends his arm out to shake your hand, and you internally scream at how shapely his arm alone looks over his long-sleeved shirt. 

“I’m Ghost. It’s a pleasure, love.” 

Choking back a moan at his accent, you put your hand in his and say, “No, I’m sure it’ll be all mine.” You can see his dark eyes crinkle at your quip. 

“If we get through this smoothly, the next time we meet I’ll make sure of it.” 

As you let out a playful laugh, Ghost reaches for the back of your chair, pulling it out with a chivalrous gesture. “And a gentleman? You definitely know how to sell yourself.” 

“No, love. This is just a common courtesy. I don’t need t’tell you that I’m good,” and in one smooth motion, he extracts a sleek, forest green matte folder from the leather business bag lying at his feet.

“I need this filled out, just the usual— hard and soft limits. Safewords, nicknames, allergies, and so on.” You pick up the folder and open it, skimming over the contents of the front page. 

“This really is your job.” You flick your eyes from the folder to him and he’s already looking at you, watchful and steady. 

“O’ course it is. I take my clients, and future clients, seriously. I enjoy wha’ I do but it will never be at the cost of another. I will not make you uncomfortable in any way, nor risk your health. I aim to please you, not the other way around. And I cannot do tha’ if I don’t know tha’ you’re allergic to latex or completely against something I might do.” 

He gives a slight cough, and you divert your attention from the paper and meet his gaze. “What’s a pretty thing like you seeking out someone who offers these types of services?” and a lighthearted chuckle escapes you.

“The same reason the one who gave me your card did— just looking for a good time, no commitment.” 

He raises his eyebrows at that but makes no further comment. Smart man. Glancing at your wrist, you check the time. “Right,” and lean forward to get up when Ghost shoots up from his chair to pull out yours. “I’ll have your folder ready for you by the weekend,” and turn your head to face him.

“Is that when you’ll want this, then?” and you give a casual shrug. 

“If you happen to be available.” He reaches out and gently grabs your hand to pull you in for a tight embrace. Softly, he whispers in your ear, “I’ll be seeing you then, love.”

You leave with a silly little grin on your face.

—

The weekend comes and you’re a puddle of nerves. You can’t remember the last time someone made you this anxious. The knock on your door startles you out of your inner ramblings. It’s time. Taking in a deep, calming breath, you open it. 

Ghost calmly walks in, and starts taking off his mask, and then leather jacket.

“I’ve one absolute limit I forgot to mention,” he says in a firm tone. “I do not kiss. It is not a negotiation.” 

Well, you couldn’t give a damn if he didn’t. Nonchalantly, you shrug and say, “And mine is that we always use a condom.” With a nod and a chuckle, he eagerly grabs the folder from your table and starts flipping through its pages.

“A’right, love. Go get on the bed f’me.” The smirk he gives you is positively wicked. “I saw tha’ you have like to be told wha’ to do.” He jerks his chin towards your room. “And take everything off.” With nervous excitement, you run off, haphazardly tossing your clothes on the floor.

—

Eyes covered with a blindfold, all you hear is your shaky breathing and his footsteps on your plush rug. Your nerves feel exposed, raw. As you lie on the bed, you suddenly feel a firm grip on the flesh of your thighs, causing your skin to break out in goosebumps. The room's cool air contrasts with the warm heat radiating from his touch, pulling a hiss from your lips as he pulls you toward the edge of the bed.

“Atta girl, love. Open your legs f’me, lemme see that pretty pussy.” The lack of eyesight helps you to focus on his touch alone, making you fearless, and your legs drop open without hesitation as you lie on your back.

“Look at tha’. Aren’t you just a dream? Hm?” he puts his hands on your knees, keeping your thighs open, wet cunt exposed. “And you waxed, too. Hope tha’ wasn’t f’me.” You feel a fingertip slide from your hood, down to your clit and hole, spreading your juices around the labia and back up. Your nerves are on fire, your pussy clenching around nothing, forcing juices to drip down to your arsehole.

“A’right, pretty. Touch yourself. Shove your tiny little fingers into your,” he pauses to suck the skin of your inner thigh, “cunt and show me how to make you feel good.” He then moves his mouth closer to where you need it most, and bites. Are you defying me? Did you suddenly become deaf as well, once I blindfolded you?” and you aggressively shake your head. 

“No! No, sir. I hear you, loud and clear.” With a tight squeeze to your thighs, he says, “Then do as I say.” Moaning, you slowly bring your hand down, starting from your chest. Your palms rub against your pebbled nipples, down to your soft stomach, until your fingertips meet your swollen nub, then move in soft, tight circles, mewling at the feeling. The groan that reaches your ears is so lewd, you could come from that alone. 

“Tha’s it, baby. You’re doing so well. Look at how wet you are, fuck, show me just how you like it.” And you do. A vulgar noise comes from your hole once you stuff yourself with one finger, slowly stretching, before adding another. It’s something, but not enough, not what you want. Not thick enough, long enough, and that thought makes you whimper in disappointment. 

“Aw, are your fingers not satisfying? I’ll help you, sweet, only because you look so delicious spread out f’me like this. So vulnerable, bare.” His breath fans over your cunt, over your clit, and it sends a jolt up your spine— but he doesn’t move, doesn’t touch. It feels like you’ve been waiting for hours until he finally, finally, pushes a thick finger into you, and curls it, rubbing against the right spot, over and over, and then pushes in a second, threatening to tip you over the peak. The feeling is intense —your walls clench around him firmly in your rising pleasure.

“Oh, g-god, Ghost pleasepleaseplease,” squealing as you fuck yourself on his hand, and when your hypersensitive nerves pick up on the sensation of his scorching mouth on your clit, with a pulsating suction, your muscles tighten and tremble, to the point of pain, until Ghost gives one hard suck, forcibly pushing you off the edge. The wail you let out is ear-splitting— as ecstasy slams into your body, like waves crashing at shore. Your thighs squeeze Ghost’s head irrationally tight, but he doesn’t care, just groaning into your core, lapping up your juices like a dehydrated man who’s found an oasis. Your body stings— prickles from the vicious high you’re riding—chest heaving with sobs from the sheer force of it, fingernails digging into Ghost’s scalp, yanking on his hair. As your soul melts back into your body, you absentmindedly thank all the bloody gods for having friends who really do look out for you. 

Whimpering pathetically, your limbs go limp, loose, heavy. Ghost easily picks your body up and moves you toward the center of the bed, vertically, the blindfold still robbing you of your vision. 

 With a grunt of effort, his hand firmly settles by your ribcage, sinking into the softness of the bed, and then he slips a folded pillow beneath your hipbones, expertly arching your spine into a delicious angle. His hand firmly connects with your rear, not just once but twice, feeling the exquisite sting of it. The room falls into silence, only to be interrupted by the clinking sound of his belt buckle. Your body tenses as you hear the unmistakable sound of plastic being torn open, and then you feel his thick and warm shaft teasing your entrance. A moan escapes your lips as he penetrates you, his movements slow and sensual, until his hipbones press against your backside. Taking his time, he slowly pulls back his length, dragging it against your slick walls, before pushing forward again, covering your body with his own. His right hand is flat on the bed by your right shoulder, while his left curls around your neck, gently forcing your head to tilt back onto him. The tip of his head grinds against the entrance of your womb. 

He moans softly into your ear, before quietly purring, “Let’s see how many more orgasms I can wring out of you, pet.” The tightening of his makeshift necklace around your throat is your first and last warning of what is to come.

—

He pulled four. Four gut-wrenching, shattering orgasms before finding his own release. He left you a drooling, sloppy, sweaty mess on your bed, completely languid and relaxed. Somewhere, you faintly hear your phone ping with a notification. Hissing as you get up, you limp to your living room, and see it on the sofa. Unlocking it, you see that it’s Ghost, sending you his Cash App information. Holding in a chickle, you send him his money and wait for his confirmation. 

It was a real pleasure, doll. Let me know when you need me again.

Cackling to yourself, you place your phone back on the table. 

Bastard. 

He knows you’ll definitely be seeing him again.

[aewon]

HEARTS ON FIRE - YANG JUNGWON

SYNOPSIS: you lived your life buried in your parent’s routine for you. a perfect princess with a perfect life…or so one would think. now you’re being married off to the prince of valdenia for a trade operation. problem is, he already has a girlfriend, and he is not happy.

pairing: prince!jungwon x princess!reader

genre: royalty au, arranged marriage, enemies2lovers, non-idol au

word count: 8.1k

You don’t know what you did to deserve this. Here you are, a young woman with ambitions and dreams, being married off to some low-life prince. 

Being a princess is not easy, fuck everyone who says it is.

  From age 5, you have been taught, more like forced, to be a good princess. 

Following every rule, never stepping a toe out of line. 

You learned how to walk, how to talk, how to eat, how to be.

You were heavily reprimanded and punished if you ever appeared in a way your parents didn’t like. 

You can only be yourself when you’re alone, in your room. 

You are not allowed to indulge in your interests in front of your parents, who will shut you down immediately. 

  Your most immense love is art. You remember being ten years old and admiring the paintings your family kept in the palace. You pointed out every stroke, every color, every detail your eyes could find. When you told your parents you wanted to paint, they scolded you. They said art was a waste of time and that you had better things to do.

The following week, your parents had a professional painter come to do a family portrait. 

You got scolded for not holding still because you wanted to watch the painter. 

  The only good part of your life was Estelle. She was the head maid, and you loved her. 

She treated you as her own and let you indulge in every interest you had in secret. 

One day, Estelle showed up in your room with paint and a canvas.

You were so thrilled you almost screamed. 

You spent the rest of that day painting. Of course, you weren’t good, but that was okay. 

As time passed, you garnered a collection of paintings you had done, inspired by the ones you saw in the castle. Eventually, you got good! As much as you wanted to show your parents, you knew they would disapprove. And you didn’t want Estelle to get in trouble either. 

  Here you are over ten years later, still hiding your paintings in your room. You’re not worried about your parents finding them because they never enter your room. 

It’s almost time for dinner, and your parents said they had important news to share. 

As you make your way down, a pit forms in your stomach. Something suddenly doesn’t feel right. You do your best to ignore it, entering the dining hall. 

Your parents barely acknowledge your presence. 

“Before we start dinner, you must know something, Y/N,” your father says.

“Does this have to do with the news you told me about?”

“Yes, you’re getting married.” Your mother responds. 

  What? Did they say married?

“What are you talking about?” You ask, and that pit inside your stomach grows.

“You’re getting married to the prince of Valdenia. This is an opportunity to do business with them, and they only offered if we gave them your hand in marriage.”

  “Are you kidding? I'm being sold off for a business deal?”

Your father stands abruptly, slamming his hands on the table. “Don't speak to us that way! You have no choice in the matter!” 

  “This is my life we’re talking about. Who are you to give it away!” You can feel your eyes prick with tears.

You knew your parents didn't care for you the way they should've, but this was too far.

“We’re doing what's best for the kingdom!” Your mother argues.

“So, giving me away is what's best for the kingdom. I knew you didn't love me, but this is sickening!”

  With that, you rush out of the dining area.

You can feel the tears rushing down your cheeks.

Slamming your door shut, you climb onto your bed, still sobbing. 

  After five minutes, you hear your door slowly open. 

You figure it's your parents, and you're ready to tell them to get out until you hear a soft voice call your name.

You look up and make out Estelle’s figure through blurry eyes.

You spring up off your bed, running into her awaiting arms.

“Estelle, they're marrying me off,” you sob, burying your face into her dress.

“I heard, sweetheart. I hate to be the one to say this, but this could end up being a good thing.”

  You sniffle, looking up at her, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, maybe you’ll find love. A love who will cherish you and let you be yourself. Look at this situation with an open mind. You never know what’s in store for you.”

  You stop crying, taking Estelle’s words in.

Could this be a benefit to you?

Could your life take a different turn?

You go to bed that night, a million thoughts racing in your mind. 

The following day, you don't speak to your parents as they tell you that you’ll all be meeting with the king and queen of Valdenia, along with their son.

Of course, they're acting like nothing happened. That's what they always do.

You're in one of your best gowns, a beautiful blush pink ensemble.

Unfortunately, Valdenia is a long 3-hour carriage ride from your kingdom.

The only thing you have to cure your boredom is a book.

  As you read, no one speaks. You're surprised your parents aren't whispering to each other as they usually do.

Time passes slowly. When you finally look up from your book, it’s mid-day. 

Looking outside the carriage for the first time, the once dull gray that was painted in the sky turned brilliant blue. 

  The kingdom of Valdenia comes into view. As your carriage rolls through, you see people all along the streets. Kids, vendors.

Every person you see has a smile on their face.

Compared to the people of your kingdom, this looks like paradise.

  Outside the palace doors, the king and queen stand alongside their son. 

Your parents step out first, and you follow.

Coming face to face with their son, he looks away from you, not meeting your eyes.

You scoff, looking down at your heel-clad feet.

  You're broken out of your trance by the queen's loud voice. 

The queen cups your face, squishing your cheeks together.

“Look how beautiful you are! Isn't she perfect, dear?”

She turns to her husband, who smiles, gracing his features.

  They both usher you and your parents inside. 

The prince follows you grudgingly.

As you enter the palace, you are welcomed into their charming dining room, where tea and finger foods have been prepared for your enjoyment. 

  You end up sitting across from the prince as your parents make small talk.

  You can feel him glaring at you. 

It’s so obvious, yet everyone seems to be ignoring it. 

You look up, finally meeting his eyes.

He doesn’t look away or soften up. He continues to glare. 

You haven’t even introduced yourself, and he’s already looking at you with hatred. 

You won’t stand for that, so you quickly slip him your middle finger.

His expression finally changes from anger to surprise before he’s frowning. 

  Jungwon’s never hated someone so much.

You’ve done nothing to him, but your existence already hinders his life. 

And here you are, flipping him off.

How rude!

  Yes, he was glaring at you, but even so, that doesn’t mean he deserved that!

He’s about to say something, hoping to get you in trouble, but he’s interrupted.

“We’ve set your wedding for next week,” his mother says.

“Next week!” You both say simultaneously.

Your parents send you a ferocious glare, making you shut your mouth.

“Yes, next week. Y/N will be moving in as well. We’ve already arranged for your things to be packed and brought here for tomorrow.” Jungwon’s mother gives you a genuine smile, and you almost feel a twinge of relief for a second.

  You can't remember the last time you had a genuine smile directed your way by your parents.

Maybe moving here won't be so bad?

“Can I say something?” You ask out into the open.

Your parents send you another glare, but the king of Valdenia nods, signaling you to speak.

  “I’m honored that you're opening up your home to me. Can I ask that I bring someone with me?”

  “And who would that be, dear?” The queen asks, looking at you with warm eyes.

“Our head maid, Estelle. She’s someone I rely on very much, and I'd hate to be without her,” you respond.

You look at your parents for approval, as do Jungwon’s parents.

“If you are okay with it, then we are as well,” your father says, gesturing to the king and queen.

  “Then it’s settled!” The queen claps; she’s delighted.

As both families continue discussing arrangements and wedding planning, you zone out.

This could either go good or bad.

You'll have to wait and see.

  All your belongings had been moved into Yang’s palace by the next day. 

Your room is enormous, more extensive than your own at home.

Or should you say, your former home?

Your parents didn't even say goodbye to you; although you expected it, it still stung. 

Luckily, you had Estelle.

She, with her belongings, arrived in Valdenia that morning. 

You rushed out to meet her, squeezing her tightly.

“Thank god you're here. I don't know if I could do this without you.”

  The Yangs (minus Jungwon) welcome Estelle with open arms. She helps you unpack, hanging up your dresses, blouses, and pants in your closet.

Meanwhile, you rant to her while sitting on your freshly made bed.

“He didn't even let me introduce myself! He left the second the meeting ended, even when his parents told him not to!”

  “Maybe he's shy, darling.”

  You huff dramatically, “He’s not. He was glaring at me with such hatred in his eyes. If looks could kill, I'd be buried 6 feet under!”

  Estelle sighs, “Maybe he just needs time to adjust. This is probably sudden for him, too.”

You take a deep breath and nod your head. Still a workaholic, Estelle leaves for the kitchen to see if there’s any work she can do.

Boredom finds you quickly, so you leave your room to tour the castle. 

You hear hushed whispers as you reach the end of a long corridor.

You lean in, straining your ears to hear the conversation. 

“I know this is upsetting, my love, but we’ll figure it out.”

You immediately recognize the prince’s voice, but who’s he talking to?

“I just want us to be together like we promised, and now you’re being taken away from me.”

That’s definitely a girl’s voice. 

It’s easy to piece two-and-two together. This is the reason why Jungwon hates you.

He has a girlfriend.

Jungwon speaks again.

“She’s not gonna come in between us. She’s nothing compared to you, Maylee.”

You can’t help but scoff. It’s not like you’re hurt, but he doesn’t even know you. 

“It’s not like you can tell your parents no…just marry her. We can still be together. It’s not like you love her.” Maylee chuckles, and you roll your eyes, silently mocking her.

  As soon as you hear the sound of lips smacking, you rush out of there and go back the way you came. 

You return to your room, staring at the paintings leaning on your desk. You managed to smuggle them out of your old room without your parents noticing. Maybe now you’ll be able to indulge yourself in your art.

  There's a knock at your door.

“Come in!” You shout.

The open door reveals Mrs.Yang, and she smiles at you warmly.

“I came to see how you're settling in.”

She spots your paintings and is immediately intrigued.

“Did you paint these?” She asks, taking one into her hands and admiring it.

“Yes. I've loved painting since I was little. My parents never allowed me to indulge, so I had to do it secretly.”

  “They're amazing.” The Queen gawks, and you feel a twinge of pride. 

 “You must keep painting!” She says, “I'd love to hang up your paintings in the palace.”

  Your eyes widen at her suggestion, “Oh no, I’m not that good. I’m nothing compared to the professionals.”

  “Nonsense.” She waves her hand, “You must allow me to display these. You deserve to be praised. And please allow me to buy you more supplies.”

  You try to decline, but she insists, and you don't have the heart to tell her no.

By the following day, you see your paintings hung in multiple areas of the palace.

  You decide to explore outside the castle, finding yourself in its large outdoor area.

There's a beautiful garden in front of you, and you take your time smelling every flower.

There's a bench in the center, and you sit down and take a deep breath.

  “You can't be here,” a voice behind you says.

Turning, you look Jungwon directly in the eyes, “Says who?”

“Says me, you're not welcome here.”

You bring your finger to your chin, pretending to look up in question.

“Hmm, according to your parents, I’m welcome anywhere and everywhere in and outside this castle. You wouldn't wanna go against their authority, would you?”

  You see his jaw clench, “Can you just leave? This place is reserved.”

You gasp, “Ah! This is you and your girlfriend's little spot, right?”

His eyes widen as he starts to sputter.

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me…or is it?”

With that, you get up making your way back inside the castle.

It takes a few seconds before you hear his footsteps rushing to catch up with you.

He grabs your arm, spinning you around to face him. 

  “You’re not gonna say a word about her to my parents, or else.”

You pout playfully, tilting your head, “Or else what?”

He can't help but chuckle in disbelief. He’s never been faced with this kind of attitude.

“I will make your life a living hell.”

It's your turn to chuckle, “I'd love to see you try.”

You take his silence as your cue to leave.

  That night at dinner, Jungwon eats his food roughly, pissed off.

How dare you speak to him the way you did! I mean, are you crazy?

Now, he can't help but keep his eyes on you, praying you don't expose his relationship.

“What did you do today, Y/n?” Mrs. Yang asks.

“I spent some time outside today, in the garden. I ran into Jungwon, and we had…a lovely conversation.”

Jungwon can feel his heart speed up. This is it. You're going to expose him. 

“Oh? What did you talk about?”

You smirk at him from across the table, “Just how excited we are for the wedding!” Only five days to go!”

  Jungwon visibly relaxes, and you catch his eye, sending a wink. 

He glares at you, sucking his teeth.

The eye contact is broken once his mother squeals, clapping her hands excitedly.

“I’m so happy you're both excited! It’ll be beautiful. We’ve made sure of it.”

  “It will truly be magnificent,” his father adds, patting Jungwon on the back.

He smiles, trying to hide his anguish behind his wine glass.

Dinner continues with Jungwon’s mother raving about the wedding: cake, decorations, guests.

“Mrs. Sim said she’s ecstatic to see you get married!”

Wait…the Sim’s? Jungwon suddenly starts to panic inside his head.

“The Sim’s are coming?” He asks, looking at his mother.

“Of course they’re coming, dear! You, Maylee and Jake were the best of friends growing up!”

  A lightbulb suddenly goes off in your head. 

Maylee? Of course, his girlfriend was his childhood friend. This new information sets a fire ablaze in your mind.

You smirk to yourself, shaking your head at the thought. 

“What’s got you smiling, honey?” Mrs. Yang asks.

“Nothing! Just thinking about my dress. I know you said it comes from the best in the world.”

  “Oh absolutely!” And she starts a long tangent of how renowned the maker of your dress is. She tells you small details so as not to ruin the surprise. Maybe it’s weird you haven’t seen your wedding dress, but you trust her word.

  Your eyes meet Jungwon’s again, and you blow him a kiss, chuckling as he looks at you in pure disgust.

  5 DAYS LATER

  When you wake up, your ladies-in-waiting immediately rush you into your bathing chambers. Your hair and body are thoroughly washed and scrubbed, your teeth are brushed, and your skin is prepped.

They bring you to Mrs. Yang’s room where you’ll be getting ready.

She smiles at you, ushering you forward. 

“Are you ready to see your dress?”

You nod, and your nerves are playing with you for some reason. Why are you nervous? 

  She unveils it, and you gasp in disbelief.

It’s beautiful. The neckline dips into a beautiful bodice with a butterfly in the middle. The design continues into the middle of the dress and its sides, with another butterfly at the bottom.

The sleeves are loose and flowy, and the skirt shines.

  “Mrs. Yang…it’s stunning.” 

“Only the best for a stunning girl,” she says, “I noticed that you paint a lot of butterflies, which is why I requested they be incorporated into your dress.”

It’s true. You do love butterflies. You loved trying to catch them when you were younger.

  Your mind begins to wander a bit. You remember imagining the day you’d get married. You didn’t expect it to be arranged, but the one thing you always hoped for was for your mother to be the one to see you in your wedding dress. 

She wasn’t here, yet Mrs. Yang was, and that’s more than you could ask for.

  Mrs. Yang brings in the stylists. They sit you down and begin to dote on you.

You see Estelle out of the corner of your eye and smile at her, giggling as she responds with two thumbs up.

Once your hair is dried and styled, they move onto your makeup. You decided on a light style, not wanting your makeup to outshine your dress.

Once it’s finished, they get you into your dress.

It fits you perfectly, and you almost squeal at how beautiful you look. Not to brag, but you think you look amazing. Once they place the veil on your head, you look complete—a perfect bride.

  The wedding is being held in the palace courtyard, with friends and family of the Yang’s filling up both sides of the seating. 

You’re not surprised to learn your parents didn’t come. 

But you have Estelle, and that’s all that matters to you.

  You make your way to the palace doors, knowing it has begun when the music starts to play.

Estelle stands by your side, ready to walk you down the aisle.

“You look beautiful. I never thought I’d see this day.”

“You’re all I need, Estelle. Thank you.”

As the doors open, you see everyone standing and looking your way.

You keep your gaze forward, walking one step at a time.

  Jungwon looks handsome. You can’t deny it. His suit is white to match your dress, and his black hair contrasts beautifully with it.

As Jungwon stares you down, he can’t deny you look beautiful.

You hear gasps and whispers as you make your way past the crowds. 

“She looks stunning.” 

“What a beautiful girl.”

“Jungwon is a lucky man.”

You chuckle to yourself if only they knew.

  Once you reach the end of the aisle, you stand across from Jungwon as Estelle takes her seat up front at your request.

Jungwon carefully lifts the veil, putting it behind you.

As you look into each other's eyes, you see something in his, an emotion you can’t put your finger on.

The minister clears his throat, bringing everyone’s attention to him. 

“Dearly beloved. We are gathered here today to witness the union of Y/N and Jungwon. Two souls brought together to become one. One soul, one body, one heart, and one mind. If anything should object to this marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

  No one says a word. The silence is almost deafening.

  “Let’s begin. Marriage is a partnership of trust and dependence to one another while walking life’s long path. Marriage is about communication and commitment, sacrifice when needed, and love in the best and worst times. 

It takes time to build a good marriage, and we hope for nothing but the best for our bride and groom.”

  The minister turns to you.

“Y/N, do you take Jungwon to be your lawfully wedded husband? Will you love and cherish him; trust and commit to him, through joy and pain, in sickness and health, for as long as you both shall live?”

  You take a deep breath, “I do.”

“Jungwon, do you take Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife. Will you love and cherish her; trust and commit to her, through joy and pain, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

  “I do,” he says, and as he smiles at you for a second, you almost think it’s genuine.

“Then, with the power invested in me, I pronounce you, huband and wife. You may now kiss your bride!”

  Kiss? Nobody mentioned a kiss.

Jungwon knows what his parents expect, so he takes your face into his hands with a heavy heart, pulling you forward and molding his lips to yours. 

You want to feel disgusted, but you can’t. You kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck.

The cheers in the background drown out as your lips move passionately.

What’s happening? Are you and Jungwon not supposed to hate each other? 

  As you pull away, you notice your lipgloss has transferred onto Jungwon’s lips.

Instinctively, you raise your hand to wipe the lipgloss off, making the crowd chuckle.

Jungwon takes your hand as you turn to the crowd, waving as pictures are taken every second.

You walk back down the aisle, entering the castle for the reception in the grand hall room.

There’s food, drinks, music and most importantly the cake.

Everyone sits to eat. There’s a large selection on the menu.

You decide on a crab-based dish, putting on a bib to avoid getting anything on your dress. 

Jungwon sits beside you, eating his food and being quiet.

  Once everyone has finished eating, people start chanting for you to cut the cake.

You and Jungwon, along with everyone else, gather around it, and you cut the cake together.

Cheers erupt, and without thinking, you put some frosting on your finger before smearing it on Jungwon’s cheek.

Laughter fills the air as Jungwon looks at you in shock.

He doesn’t hesitate to fire back, targeting your cheek.

  You laugh as he kisses your cheek, smearing the frosting.

After enjoying the cake, a delicious vanilla custard that you adored, you make small talk with all of Jungwon’s family and relatives.

“Where are Jungwon, Jake, and Maylee?” Mrs. Yang asks. 

“Those three are always doing something secretive. Y/N, would you be a dear and go find them?” Mrs. Sim asks you, and you nod, getting up and leaving the room.

  You don’t care to find them, so you wander the halls aimlessly until you hear shouting coming from an empty corridor.

“What the hell was that?” That voice definitely doesn’t belong to Jungwon so it must be Jake.

“What are you talking about?” Jungwon asks, confused as to why he’s being yelled at.

“You were practically all over her!” Jake yells.

“You looked so in love,” a feminine voice says, that must be Maylee.

  “I’m not in love with her. We hate each other!” Jungwon insists, looking between the Sim siblings.

“Well, it didn’t look that way to me!” Jake retaliates.

“I just watched you marry and kiss another girl. Don’t you realize how terrible I feel?” Maylee asks.

“I get it,” Jungwon says, “But I had to look convincing to my parents!”

  “That bitch certainly didn’t seem to mind having you to herself,” Maylee says.

You clear your throat, smirking as the three look at you like deer caught in headlights.

“The next time you wanna argue and talk shit about somebody, maybe don’t yell and cause a commotion about it.” 

You walk forward, standing in front of Maylee, who’s between Jungwon and Jake.

“And next time… come say it to my face. Don’t be a pussy.” You throw the bouquet in her face, turn around, and walk back.

“You may need that,” you say as you leave the three dumbfounded.

  You devise some weak excuse about how you couldn’t find them, but within a minute, they all come shuffling back into the grand hall.

The night ends with everyone congratulating you and Jungwon as you hang off his arm. You catch Maylee’s eye as the Sim’s are leaving. You can’t help but be petty, shooting a wink and waving her way. She glares ferociously before being ushered out by her mother.

  You yawn, the day's events catching up to you. 

“Are you tired, sweetheart?” Mrs. Yang asks, cooing at you as you nod sleepily.

“You’re in luck. We just had your bedroom cleaned and prepared for you both,” Mr. Yang says.

“Wait,” Jungwon interrupts, “What do you mean for us both?”

“Well, now that you’re married, it only makes sense to share a bedroom!”

  You and Jungwon look at each other and then back to his parents.

“I understand your point, but we still barely know each other. Isn’t it a bit soon?” you ask, Jungwon nodding in agreement. 

“Nonsense! If anything, this will help you get closer!” Mr. Yang responds.

  Before you can argue any further, they bid you both goodnight. 

You both stand there for a few seconds, taking in this absolute setup.

“We could just not sleep in the same room? They don’t have to know,” you suggest.

Jungwon shakes his head, “They’ll know. They’re parents, they know everything.”

  “So you wanna sleep in the same room?”

“I don’t want to,” Jungwon says exasperated, “But we’ll have to.”

It turns out that the bedroom is the second-best in the castle, only after the king and queen’s.

“We can move all our stuff in here tomorrow. Let’s just wash up, get changed, and go to bed,” Jungwon says before making his way to his now-old room.

  “Wait!” You call out.

He turns around, raising an eyebrow.

“Can you unzip me? I can’t reach it.” 

Jungwon doesn’t think anything of it, reaching to unzip your dress.

That is until he sees the expanse of your smooth skin. Before he can stop himself, he’s gently running his hand down the middle of your back.

You freeze, not expecting his touch.

He snaps out of it and, before you can say anything, runs, leaving you in the corridor.

  You turn to your room, undressing and wearing comfortable sleepwear.

You enter the bath chambers and wash off your makeup, putting your hair into a protective style.

You return to the bedroom, finding Jungwon hasn’t arrived yet.

  The room is even bigger than yours. When you check out the closet, it expands even farther than yours.

The bath chamber has a tub, a separate shower, and two sinks. On one side of the room, there’s even a couch.

It’s perfect for two people.

  You hear the door close behind you, and Jungwon clears his throat.

“I can sleep on the couch so that you can sleep in the bed,” he says, already making his way to it.

“No, I’ll sleep on the couch!” You protest, grabbing an extra blanket from the closet.

  “I can’t allow that. As much as we don’t like each other, I can’t let a lady be uncomfortable.”

You sigh, “Then we’ll both sleep in the bed, just keep some space between us.”

Jungwon nods, and you both make your way to the bed.

You get in first, making yourself comfortable, and Jungwon follows suit.

Neither of you say anything, nor do you say goodnight.

Sleep overtakes you quickly.

  When you wake up, you notice an arm around your waist.

Looking beside you, Jungwon is still fast asleep.

You carefully remove his arm around you and leave the bed.

Heading to the bath chambers, you quickly shower, brush your teeth, and wash your face.

Jungwon is still asleep when you return, so you head down to breakfast without him.

  The king and queen are nowhere to be found, but breakfast is still laid out, ready to be eaten.

You sit down, preparing your napkin before digging in.

About ten minutes later, Jungwon enters the dining hall, hair disheveled and pajamas slightly unbuttoned.

He says nothing as he sits next to you and starts to eat.

He looks cute, you hate to admit.

His eyes are puffy from sleep and his cheeks are slightly bloated.

  “What are you staring at?” He asks.

“Nothing!” You respond, quickly turning back to your food.

It’s quiet for a few minutes before you speak again, “You must’ve slept well last night, considering I woke up with your arm around me.”

Jungwon freezes beside you, side-eyeing as you try to hold in your chuckle.

  “I normally hold a pillow when I sleep. It must’ve been an accident.”

You hum, not believing him for a second.

“I ran into my parents before coming here. They said we’re having dinner with the Sim’s tonight.”

  You sigh, “Do I have to deal with your girlfriend and her brother again?”

“No, but maybe don’t provoke her either?”

“But it’s fun,” you pout playfully. 

“Not for me. I get all the backlash!”

“Well, maybe tell them to knock it off!”

With that, you get up and finish your breakfast.

You go to your old room where all your clothes reside and bring them into the new room.

Jungwon had the decency to take up only one side of the closet with his things.

  Next is moving your paintings. The room has enough space to line them up nicely by the large window.

You prepare for the rest of the day, taking a long, hot shower and getting dressed in one of your gowns.

You head to the garden, sitting on the bench with your paints and canvas.

The sky is still shedding its orange rays.

So you sit, and you paint.

You paint until your hands become numb from holding your palette and brush. 

  By the time you’ve finished, the sky has shed its previous colors and welcomed a beautiful blue.

You paint that as well, blending the colors seamlessly. 

You paint the clouds, their shadows, and the scenery before you.

Each flower is painted with details someone else might never see.

But you see everything.

  You hear footsteps approaching from behind you, and Jungwon’s voice graces your ears, “The Sim’s are here. I was sent to get you.”

  Your eyes widen. How rude of you not to be there when guests arrive.

You quickly gather up your paints, brushes, and palette.

Finding your hands full, you look to Jungwon for help.

He takes note and carefully takes your painting into one hand, his other occupied by your easel.

You take numerous fast-paced steps ahead of him, rushing to get inside.

“Calm down, they’re not upset.”

You send him a glare as you walk even faster.

  When you reach the bedroom, you put everything away, Jungwon carefully setting down your easel and painting.

You stand in front of the full-length mirror beside the closet door and fix your appearance.

Rushing wasn’t a good idea as your hair is now disheveled, strands flying everywhere.

You brush your fingers through it, calming any flyaways and loose hair.

  Turning around, you see Jungwon still there, staring you down.

“What?” You ask. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, you look fine. Let’s go.”

He holds out his arm, looking for you to interlock yours. 

You do as such, putting your other hand over his.

When you arrive in the dining hall, the Sim’s, minus the siblings, look at you both warmly.

Jungwon pulls your chair out, and you thank him quietly before he sits beside you.

  Everyone begins to eat while the parents start a quiet conversation.

You can feel eyes on you, but you don’t look up to catch them.

“So,” Mrs. Sim says, “How’s married life treating you both?”

You put on your “fake but real” smile. “Well, it’s only been a day. I don’t think we’ve experienced any real marriage life yet.”

Mrs. Yang interrupts you, “Nonsense. I heard them having a couples spat the other day. Of course, I don't know what it was about, but it’s not my business. They’re both adults. They can keep it between themselves.”

  The Sim’s laugh, and the Yang’s as you and Jungwon smile awkwardly.

“Oh, and they don’t know this, but I went into their room to check on them this morning. It was so cute how Jungwon wrapped his arm around you while you slept,” Mrs. Yang says, turning to you.

  Jungwon suddenly chokes on his food, coughing violently as you hit his back.

Mrs. Yang looks at Jungwon, “Careful, sweetie. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything, but I couldn't help it! My baby boy is embarrassed,” she coos.

“Mom,” Jungwon grumbles as he finally stops choking.

He looks at Maylee to find her glaring straight at him, and he gulps heavily.

  “Excuse me, I have to use the restroom,” Maylee says, quickly ushering herself out of the dining hall.

After five minutes, her parents question her whereabouts, and Jungwon takes this as his chance.

“I’ll go look for her!”

He rushes off, running through the corridors looking for her.

Suddenly, he hears a crash coming from the bedroom.

He darts to it and finds himself in the middle of Maylee destroying your paintings.

“What the hell are you doing!” He yells, dragging her away from the now slashed canvases.

His yell alerts everyone still at the table, and they’re rushing in within seconds.

  You get one look at your destroyed paintings before you collapse on your knees, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“What did you do?” you ask, looking at Maylee and Jungwon.

“This is what you get for stealing my man, bitch!”

The Sim’s and Yang’s look between you and Maylee before Mrs. Sim speaks up, “Sim Maylee, what on earth are you talking about!”

  “You wanna know the truth,” she starts, “Jungwon and I have been dating for three years. 3! And all of a sudden, this bitch makes her grand entrance as his soon-to-be wife? Are you fucking kidding me? She’s been cuddling up to him this whole time, and I’m sick of it!”

  You get up, and before anyone can blink, you slap Maylee across the face, “How dare you. You’re mad about our arranged marriage, so you destroy my life’s work?”

She holds her now red cheek, staring at you in disbelief.

You turn to Jungwon, “I know you hate me, but this is too far.”

With that, you turn and leave the room, running through the corridor and leaving the castle.

You run and run as far as your feet will take you.

  Jungwon turns to Maylee, “This…this was too much Maylee.”

“So it’s true?” Mrs. Yang interjects

“Yes, mother, it’s true. I said nothing because I knew we’d be forced to break up if you found out. We planned to keep our relationship a secret even after my marriage.”

He turns back to Maylee, “How could you do this?”

“Why are you defending her?” she shouts. “I’m your girlfriend; you should be on my side.”

  “But you’ve crossed the line, Maylee, and dragged me into your mess, too!”

Mrs. Sim crosses the room and yanks her daughter by the arm. “Let’s go! Say goodbye because, as far as I’m concerned, you two will not see each other anymore.”

She drags Maylee out as she struggles in her mother’s hold while Mr. Sim puts his hand on Jake’s shoulder, dragging him out as well.

  The Yang’s are left in the room, glaring at their son.

“I’m very disappointed in you,” his father says.

Jungwon hangs his head in shame, “I know. I just… didn’t want to end my relationship with Maylee. We fell in love over time and never had the guts to tell any of you. But I don’t condone this! I would’ve never done something like this!”

  “You need to find Y/N and apologize to her immediately. You should’ve stopped Maylee’s actions when she first showed hostility.”

Jungwon nods, and with that, he begins his search for you.

He passes some maids, asking where you went, and they tell him you ran outside the castle.

As he makes his way outside, a guard rushes up to him. “Prince Jungwon, the princess ran out here in a frenzy. We tried to go after her but were ordered not to leave our post. She ran into the woods outside the castle!”

  Jungwon books it, running as fast as he can, shouting your name. He runs through trees, swatting branches out of his way.

Then, he hears it. Soft sniffles came from in front of him.

He approaches you carefully, not wanting to startle you or make you run away.

“Y/N?”

  You turn around, glaring once you see it’s him.

Standing up, you begin to walk away from him, but he’s faster and grabs your arm.

“Wait! Please let me explain! I had nothing to do with Maylee destroying your paintings. I didn’t tell her to do it. I didn’t participate. I don’t hate you. I’ve been in the wrong this whole time. I treated you terribly when you did nothing wrong, and I’m sorry.”

  “Those paintings were priceless to me, Jungwon. What am I supposed to do now?” 

He takes your hand, “Make new ones and new memories?”

You bite your lip, “You’re right, and I’m sorry, too. I was hostile towards you when you were also in a shitty situation.”

He waves his hand, “Let bygones be bygones and regarding Maylee, I think it’s fair to consider her my ex now.”

  Jungwon holds out his hand, “Let’s go home?”

You take his hand, and the both of you make your way back to the castle. 

Mr. and Mrs. Yang welcome you back with open arms, literally holding you in their arms. For the first time in forever, you feel like you’re with family. 

Estelle helps you and Jungwon clean up the destroyed paintings. You decide to throw everything away, wanting to make new memories like Jungwon said. 

  That night, you and Jungwon get into bed with a newfound friendship.

  The morning light shines through the curtains, and it makes you squint. 

You look beside you and see Jungwon is gone.

Sitting up, you stretch before preparing to get out of bed. 

“Hold it right there! Breakfast in bed for the lady.” Jungwon comes in with a whole tray of food. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, and toast, with a glass of orange juice.

“Jungwon, you don’t have to do nice things for me. We’ve forgiven each other for past mistakes. There’s no need for this,” you say, smiling at him.

  “I want to do this. I want to make up for my wrongdoings, so please, just let me,” he pleads.

He sets the tray down in front of you. 

You pick up your fork and knife, cutting into the pancakes. You hold out your fork for Jungwon, “Say ah!”

A light blush dusts Jungwon’s cheeks, but he accepts the food graciously. 

You gesture for him to sit next to you in bed, “Let’s talk.”

He complies, “Talk about what?”

“Anything,” you say, “What are your plans for today?”

  “I didn’t have any plans for today. I thought maybe we could go out and paint! I’ve never done it before, but it looks fun!”

You smile as you eat, “I think that’s a great idea.”

When you (and Jungwon) have finished breakfast, you gather all your art supplies again and make your way outside the castle, this time with Jungwon in tow. 

“So, first things first. There are no rules when it comes to art. You can do whatever you want, as long as you like it.”

  You’re facing the woods, so you tell Jungwon to paint that. He begins, and within half an hour, he’s finished. He presents his final product to you like a shy kid, and you can’t help but coo.

Surprisingly, it’s not bad for a complete beginner.

“So right off the bat, I can tell you understand color. What you’re missing is lighting and shading. Notice how some are lighter when the sun hits the trees while the branches in the back are darker?”

  As you ramble on and on, Jungwon can’t help but think you look beautiful. You’re talking passionately, and he can’t stop staring in awe. 

He doesn’t even realize you're calling his name until you snap your fingers in front of his face.

“Are you listening? This is important!”

“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “I can just tell how much you love art, and I think it’s cool.”

  You hum, “Well, thank you. What about you? What’s your favorite thing?”

Jungwon contemplates momentarily before looking down at the grass, “I don’t have one.”

You frown, sitting next to him on the bench.

“That’s okay!” you say. “We can find your favorite thing; we just have to experiment!”

  Painting class for the day officially ends there, as you’re now determined to help Jungwon.

As you walk the corridor castles, you ask, “So, what do you like to do?”

“I like sports. The guys and I usually play rugby when we’re all free.”

You recall being introduced to 5 other boys who Jungwon said he grew up with, Jake included.

“I don’t think you can teach me that.” You laugh as Jungwon smiles shyly beside you.

“What else?” You ask.

“Well, I like to sing.”

“Really?” You ask, surprised.

  Jungwon nods, “I always loved putting on performances for my parents when I was younger.”

“Well, sing for me!”

“But I’m shy,” he says, looking down as his cheeks become red.

“Come on,” you whine, dragging out the n, “I’m your wife. You don’t need to be shy in front of me.”

“Not you pulling the wife card.” He laughs.

“Please.” You pout, putting on your best puppy eyes.

Jungwon takes a deep breath before he starts to sing, and you’re immediately captivated.

  His voice is like honey. It’s smooth but slightly raspy, and it’s like an angel singing in your ears.

When he finishes, you clap excitedly.

“Jungwon, you’re so good!”

He gives a small thanks while you keep walking.

You think you’ve found a new obsession.

  Jungwon sits on the picnic blanket beside you, singing quietly to you as you watch the sky.

You sit up abruptly, causing Jungwon to stop.

“Do you think in a different universe, we would’ve been friends first before anything?”

Jungwon ponders for a moment, “I don’t see why not. Let me ask you something: do you think we could make our marriage work?”

  You turn to Jungwon, eyebrow raised, “You mean, like, romantically? I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” You smirk, causing Jungwon to turn away quickly.

“I mean, you’re beautiful. I can’t help but think, now that things are good between us, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try. The last thing I want is to be in a loveless marriage.”

  “Sure, we can try.” You turn yourself towards Jungwon, touching his cheek to make him face you.

“Kiss me,” you say.

Jungwon’s eyes widened. They dart to your lips quickly before finding your eyes, “So suddenly?”

You figure he’s not going to do it, so you do.

Leaning forward, you capture his lips with yours.

He kisses you back, pulling you closer with a hand behind your head.

His lips are soft, and he tastes like the strawberries and chocolate you had.

  It’s passionate. It feels like sparks are going off. This kiss is different from the one you shared on your wedding day. This one feels natural like it’s a kiss with love and not for show.

Before it can go any further, you pull away, giggling as Jungwon chases your lips.

He whines, “Don’t tease me!”

“I’m sorry! You’re just too cute.”

“Don’t wanna be cute to you,” he mumbles.

“You don’t wanna be cute? Do you wanna be more than that? Like what?”

“Handsome, hot, sexy?”

“Who said I don't find you hot, handsome, and sexy?”  

  Jungwon smirks, “Do you?”

You push Jungwon’s shoulder back, throwing your leg over his, straddling his lap.

He brings his hands to your waist, holding it tightly.

“What if I said I think you’re the sexiest, hottest, most handsome man I’ve ever seen?”

He rubs circles into your waist, “I'd say you're the sexiest, hottest, most beautiful woman I've ever seen.”

You lean in for another kiss, nipping Jungwon’s bottom lip. 

  God knows how long you spent there. After coming inside, you sit down for dinner with the Yang's.

“So, what did you two do today?” Mrs. Yang asks.

“We had a picnic!” You respond. “Jungwon prepared everything, and it was amazing.”

Mrs. Yang asks for details, and the two women talk excitedly while Jungwon looks at you with fondness. 

  As you lay in bed that night, you think about how drastically your relationship with Jungwon has changed.

You dreaded this marriage, being forced to be with someone you didn't love. And now? Your perspective has completely changed. 

Jungwon is a fantastic person. You wish you had seen it earlier.

  Do you think you could fall in love with Jungwon? You believe you already have. While the thought almost scares you, your feelings for Jungwon overcome that.

Your thoughts are interrupted when Jungwon comes out of the bathroom, having thoroughly washed up.

He joins you in bed, turning to face you as you smile at him.

“What?” He asks, smiling back at you.

  You raise your hand, stroking the area above his eyebrow, moving the hair in the way. 

“I think I love you, Jungwon.”

Jungwon's eyes widen, and then they soften.

“I think I love you too, Y/N.”

You don't say anything else as you lean in, kissing him.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, my love.”

  2 WEEKS LATER

Jungwon plays with your hair as your head lays in his lap. His nimble fingers find their way to your cheek, grazing over it. 

You look up at him, meeting his eyes.

Puckering your lips, he laughs, bringing his to yours in a sweet kiss.

“There's a festival in the town tonight. Do you wanna go?” He asks.

“What’s it gonna be like?”

“Games, music, food, the works.”

“Sounds fun, I'd love to go!”

  Night comes quickly, and you've just finished preparing for the festival. 

Jungwon comes out of the bathroom, ready as well. 

“You look beautiful, my love,” he says, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around you. 

“And you look dashing.”

  The festival is in full swing by the time you and Jungwon arrive.  

People greet you as you pass, giving you gifts and free things. 

You take them all graciously, thanking them for their generosity. 

  You and Jungwon find a private spot, taking time to admire the view of the town ahead. 

“I got you something,” he says.

You turn to him, eyebrows furrowing when he pulls out a small box.

  “I know we had a rocky start, but I have to say that these past few weeks with you have been some of the best I've ever had. I know our vows weren't exactly the most genuine, but now, I mean those words genuinely. You are an amazing, passionate, loving, caring woman, and I love everything about you. I truly promise the rest of my life to you.”

  With that, he opens the box, presenting a beautiful gold necklace. You gasp in surprise as he shows it to you. 

“Jungwon, it's stunning.”

“I got our initials engraved on it, so we're always together no matter what.”

  As he puts it on you, you think to yourself, maybe this life was meant for you.

In the end, you got your fairytale ending.

note: this took me entirely too long but it's done!! i hope you all enjoy!

taglist: @jiamini @dokidokior @26796i

[natewriteslol]

"Short" Fuse

Summary: Despite not really being close, Chilchuck opens up to you about being short, you listen and offer some interesting counters to his insecurities.

A/N: a lil sum sum :P

It had been a long, adventurous day, yet Laios continued his search within the dungeon for some food. The entire party was hungry, but of course the two chefs especially held the urge to eat. They both wanted to go after these specific monsters in the area that could be tasty, something about these snail creatures and main course. Despite apprehension from Marcille she tagged along and Izutsumi not wanting to miss out on the action and still wasn't tired due to her slight nocturnal nature followed suit.

They assured the remaining two should keep watch of the supplies of your camp. And with waves from all of them except from the beastman, the four were engulfed within the darkness of the dungeon.

Leaving solely you and Chilchuck.

Your relationship was most definitely not the closest as he adopted a fatherly nature amongst the other members of the party except for Senshi and you. And whilst that makes sense as the dwarf and yourself were both adults just like Chilchuck, it still was completely different.

You honestly just chalked it up to you joining the party at a later date than the rest, despite bonding with the rest of your other people, even getting closer with someone as combative as Izutsumi.

Truth be told, you couldn't stand it as you were at a stand still of a lack of satisfaction. You weren't liked and you weren't disliked as you both almost never spoke to one another. But you persevered and decided to completely break the ice, not caring if you were being weird at this point.

"How is your sight so good?"

He was caught completely off guard, thinking that you both were going to sit in silence the whole time.

"What do you mean?" Chilchuck asked back, side eyeing you.

"When defeating golems, you're the first to spot their hearts before anyone and you spot weak points on different creatures also that others are blind to. How do you do that?" You explained.

"Half-foots typically have keen eyesight, it comes with the hearing too. Big eyes, big ears," he put it simply.

You continued to poke and prod at him and you ended up making decent conversation with the man, even getting a couple of laughs. But somehow your topic had evolved from weaknesses, to then insecurities.

"Laois is an idiot, but I would rather have more height and be able to perform in battle a little more. Half Foots mainly need to stay out of the way and let other people handle it. It feels...cowardly," he says, putting his arms on top of his knees and sighing.

It was catching you a bit off guard but I guess the saying of opening up to a stranger than someone you know is making itself very apparent at the moment.

"I completely disagree man," you replied, taking a more casual approach.

Chilchuck didn't want to completely block your opinion and he was curious about what you had to say surprisingly , "What are you saying?"

"I'd argue every person in here obviously has an asset that they possess, meaning one would fall apart without the other. Also we have all been in close to death situations and you're usually the most likely to survive due to your height," you explained, poking at the fire with a twig as you sat on the cold dungeon floor.

"I guess," he replied, looking off to the side. But the look on his face had told another story, as if the brunette had more to say.

.

.

.

"Ever since my wife left me, I've been more caring about how people percieve me. Gets on my goddamn nerves."

There it was.

The Half-Foot blurted out, both horrified and relieved he got that off his chest. He held a small pebble within his palm, semi- gently throwing a rock into the fire, crackling the wood and which sent out light embers into the air.

He had been definitely holding that in for a long time, and had no idea how to say it or if he could even speak it aloud. It's common for people to feel that way, more vigilant and embarrassed over what others have to say about them especially if they're single. But it had been a while since the Half-Foot truly felt it after being married for so long.

And for the past five years, it had been completely gnawing at him and his security as a man. He was twenty nine yet still couldn't shake that feeling, but with his occupation, Chilchuck couldn't exactly dwell on romance mid-lock picking or battle.

But on quiet nights like this, it got to him.

"Well, you're lucky you're a good looking guy, otherwise you would be screwed," you said bluntly, taking off your boot to get some dirt out from the inside. He was honestly speechless, had you of all people thought that? Or were you just talking to make him feel better.

But this whole interaction makes him feel so weird, but it's not a... negative feeling.

"You are so damn ridiculous, you know that?"

"You can think whatever you want Chilchuck, but I think deep down you know I'm right," you said, your eyes still fixated on your boot cleaning process. Your statement made a blush spread across his cheeks.

"This dungeon is making me talk to you, I swear," he replied frustratedly, growing "tired" of your antics.

"Well good thing we had this talk, since we both have had things on our mind for a while, huh?"

Although you both opened up about how you've been feeling, Chilchuck was doing a majority of the talking on this subject. Was that what you mean? The beginning when you were talking about yourself and not his appearance and you finding him attractive?

Right?

And just as he was about to inquire further, the short man was quickly cut off by a certain loud blonde.

"Hey guys, we're back!" Laios said excitedly from afar, his voice echoing slightly on the dungeon walls, his hands were wet with wet giant snails whilst Senshi carried a large sack of god knows what on his back.

Marcille and Itsuzumi looked green in the face with disgust, but you knew they would most definitely eat the monster Escargot that you knew the dwarf would whip up. The sight always brought a smile to your face, especially their hypocrisy in finding everything Senshi and Laois made yummy.

As you sat up to go and help with dinner, you looked over your shoulder, "Thanks for the talk Chilchuck, we should do this more often."

This was might not curate the best outcome, but why didn't he want to stop?

Why the hell did he even care?

[whousestypewriters]

i'm here - joey lynch x reader

pairing: joey lynch x fem!reader

warnings: flufffffff, swearing + a lil angst

a/n: BELLE BELLE BELLE DO YOU SEE ME?? IM WRITING JOEY LYNCH FICS FOR YOU!! LOVE YOU POOKIE <33 (i've kept this surprisingly spoiler free as well!!) also pls ignore my delusional ass over here writing fics late at night-

joey lynch is a protector.

its his way of being. he's been that way all his life. constantly looking after his siblings when their parents couldn't.

so you take it upon yourself to be joey's protector - much to his disgruntlement.

so when you find the space next to you on your bed empty and cold. you know he's having nightmares again.

fighting with your very sleepy brain - which should shut up by the way - you roll out of bed, wrap a discarded blanket from your shrek movie marathon earlier and go in search for joey.

the nightmares aren't a regular thing - not anymore at least, that you are very grateful for - but when they do plague joey he falls into the downward spiral of think he's not good enough for you. which of course is absolute nonsense.

pulling the blanket tighter around you, you slip out through the balcony door and out into the crisp night where a shirtless and haunted looking joe sits with his head in his hands on a half broken chair - curtsey of the hotel you were staying in.

"hey you," you say softly approaching him. you're eyes definitely don't stray down to his bare chest... not at allllll.

joey's head snaps up, noticing you for the first time. "hey, what are you doing out here? go back to bed baby."

shaking your head you determinedly open the blanket and wrap it around him wincing at the coldness of his skin. how long has he been out here?

"nahh, if you're out here so am i."

joey already knowing that there is no point in arguing with you, stands up and picks you up bridal style, blanket and all bringing you back inside and gently places you back on your bed before closing the door again.

he busies himself fixing the duvet cover and pillows on the bed ignoring the knowing looks you're sending him.

"joe."

he looks at you. "y/n."

"do you want to talk about it?"

"no."

"joe."

he's quiet for a bit probably contemplating what he should tell you.

"it was the same one." his voice is quiet, soft. you know joey doesn't like talking about these dreams so you don't push it. "but different this time." he takes a deep breath and looks at you with resigned eyes. "i lost you. cause of the... cause of the...."

"i know," you whisper. unwrapping yourself from the blanket, rounding the bed and coming to stand in front of the broken boy in front of you.

"but hey," your eyes fill with tears as you look at the defeated look in his eyes. he really believes that it could be true. he really believes that you would- could leave him. "i'm here. and i'm not going anywhere. joe- joe look at me." when he refuses you step closer between his legs and cup his face. "joseph lynch, you look at me."

joey's pained eyes meet yours and your heart breaks for him. for the amount of shit he's been through. for all the years he had no one to turn to. now he has you, and you have every intention of making sure that joey lynch is fucking loved and cared for.

"i love you. and it would take a very very very big group of people to take me away from you- even then don't get your hopes up because believe it or not joey there is something in my soul that is connected to yours and in every life time, every life time i will find you." you press a soft kiss to his forehead. "so don't even think for one second that i'm going to leave you. you're my joey. and i don't plan on giving you up. so im sorry but you're kinda stuck with me."

joey's eyes shine with barely restrained love as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in, squeezing your waist tightly.

"i love you baby," he whispers against your midriff. "so much."

running your hands through his blonde hair you press a kiss to his head, "love you too baby."

you stay that way for a while, joey wrapped tightly around you and you pressing soft kisses to his head until joey leans back taking you with him.

"joey!" you laugh toppling over on top of him.

"yes?" he hums as he adjusts you both so you're facing each other with your legs intertwined.

"nothing," you smile and press a kiss to the tip of his nose, his green eyes shining beautifully in the moonlight.

joey grins and pulls you closer by the waist pressing a soft, yearning kiss to your lips.

you both fall asleep to your hushed whispers in the dark, promises and loving kisses.

"love you baby..."

[taglist] @lxvebelle

a/n pt2: THE WAY I NEED ME SOME JOEY LYNCH IS UNFORGIVABLE sleep delusion reaaaally got to me at the end there- hope you liked it babes <33

[captain039]

Wolf and bear

Halsin x shapeshifter!reader

Warnings: sexual, adult content, eventual smut, light swearing, mentions of dog fighting, first times.

Again! I don’t know Halsins character very well, nor have a played the game still lmao (3rd of the 9th ) well 5th cause that’s when I get paid lol.

Angry little wolf with her future bear husband lol

Kinda questionable xD

I cannot find Halsin smut and I need it

Also need Astarion smut

Challenging a bear probably wasn’t the smartest idea you had, but he was too close to your home. He smelt different though, not like normal wild bears that sometimes roam through. There was a scar down his eyes and his one of his lip. He was bigger than a normal bear also, then again you were a bigger than a normal wolf. Was he a shifter? He didn’t seem fazed by your warning growls and snaps, if a bear could looked amused he looked it. You huffed through your teeth and hoped he’d disappear. You headed back to your cottage, shifting back into your human form with a pained groan.

“Why’re you in pain?” you screamed at the deep voice behind you, body instantly going back into a wolf form due to reflexes. You smacked the ground with a groan before shifting back. Your body extra aching now, of course it bloody hurt your body literally changed into an animal! stupid idiot. You grabbed your robe quickly and covered yourself, you turned seeing an overly naked large man.

“Gods!” you covered your eyes praying he’d just leave.

“Do you have clothes?!” You yelled.

“I rather enjoy changing without them on, more comfortable” he said and you couldn’t argue with logic, but still. Sure if you were skilled enough in magic you’d keep your clothes on and not ruin them, every time you changed though they’d be torn and ruined.

“Why’re you here?” You asked keeping your hand over your eyes.

“It’s been a long time since I met another shifter, I was curious I suppose” he said and you sighed.

“Well I shift, the end, please leave” you probably sounded like a bitch, but you hadn’t had anyone here in years, people weren’t to found on a wolf in their villages, and life with other shifters was weird, constant need to bond with nature and a lot of nudity.

“Why have you not joined others?” He asked and you sighed.

“Because they are too much for me I like my quietness!” You pressed hoping he’d get the hint.

“You are against bonding with nature and being yourself?” He added and you groaned.

“Listen man, I don’t want your company or questions please leave!” You finally moved your hand to look at him, geez he was big. Big broad shoulders and wide torso, strong legs- oh gods. You flushed and looked back to his eyes seeing a small smirk. He had the same three scars over his eyes and the one on his lip, tribal markings down the right side of his face. Pointed ears and long brown hair half tied back.

“You didn’t answer my question” he stated and your mouth hung open slightly, did he not get a word you just said.

“I’m Halsin” he said.

“I don’t care!” You groaned getting up and going inside, slamming the door behind you.

You awoke the next morning ignoring the scenes

of last night, hopefully he’s gone back to his little nature loving pack. You went outside to tend to your garden only to freeze when you sensed someone to your left. You stared at the large man sitting by your table chewing on what looked like dried fruit. Is he serious? You walked back inside surely this was a dream, or an illusion.

“I’m real” he called and you walked back outside.

“What in the hell are you doing here?!” You snapped and he just smiled. He was clothed thankfully as he stood, woah he was much bigger than you.

“You intrigue me” he said.

“I don’t care, get off my property or-“ you stuttered what could you really do to a giant bear man? He smirked head tilted he knew you couldn’t do anything.

You ignored him as you went about your gardening. He didn’t say anything which annoyed you more, what did he want somewhere to hibernate?! Certainly wasn’t going to be in your comfortable bed.

“Excuse us” you frowned at the approaching men. The bear man stood on edge a frown on his face. You walked to them and wiped your hands.

“What is it?” You asked seeing a note in their hands.

“Have you seen or heard any bears around?” He asked and you froze.

“One with a scar on his face!” The man behind him piped up.

“No?” You said questioning.

“We believe it’s a demon” he said and you raised a slight eyebrow.

“Bear shifter” he added, so this man was a shifter hater.

“He caused a rampage in a dog fight arena” your stomach churned at the words, people still did that? Horrible beings.

“Was anyone hurt?” You asked trying to not sound suspicious.

“Just the owners, not dead, but all the dogs were let free” he answered and you felt relief flood you.

“This your husband?” He nodded to the bear man behind you.

“Uh-“ you faltered as he stood and came over with a smile.

“I am” he said and you froze as a hand went around your waist. You wanted to punch that smile off his face.

“Ah, have you heard or seen anything?” The man asked and your supposed husband shook his head.

“Can’t say I have” he said.

“Kinda got scars like you” the one behind said studying.

“Oh these I was attacked by a bear actually, got its head in our living room” he chuckled, but you felt how rigid his body went.

“Awesome!” The man behind said and you sighed.

“Well if you see or hear anything let us know, oh and if you see a dog or dogs let us know, we’re at the village council” the man said and left. The bear man growled and you tensed feeling the anger rolling off him. You rested a hand on his chest feeling his urge to murder those men.

“Killing them won’t solve anything” you said hushed and he stared down at you with big eyes. Now that he was close, you could feel his warmth, feel the muscles beneath your hand, smell his scent.

You closed your eyes for a moment taking him in before you realised what you were doing and stormed away embarrassed.

“What about those dogs?” You asked.

“They’re with good people now, away from that horrible place” he growled the last part and you couldn’t ignore the shivers and unwanted arousal it gave you.

“Good” you whispered as you went back to gardening.

Apparently this was his daily ritual, to greet you in the morning, ask some questions and just be around you. You really couldn’t deny how comforting it was to have his presence, but you also couldn’t ignore how weird it was. After a few days of not shifting your body began to ache, you hated it, hated having to change and run in the forest despite the freedom it gave you. You waited till night, waited till Halsin was gone. You went outside in a robe, shrugged it off and shifted. You took a moment to gather yourself before you took off into the woods. You rested by a lake and looked at the moon reflection rippling in the water. You heard heavy steps and stood, hackles up before you recognised the scent and scar on the big bear. You sat back down listening to him saunter over and sit by you. You enjoyed the cool breeze and took in a breath to smell the forest around you. Halsin bumped you suddenly and you looked to him seeing the bear smile. You huffed at him and looked away feeling him doing it again. You gave him a narrowed look feeling his playfulness. You pushed him back with your body watching him stumble. He roared playfully and you stood up tail wagging slightly. You bowed down slightly in a playful dog stance as he roared softly and began play fighting with you. If someone was to walk by the would be weirded out, but for some reason this felt natural. If you could laugh you would, it just came out a strange grunts and growls as you nipped playfully at Halsins paws. He was stronger though and knocked you into the water. You froze standing up quickly and shivering. You growled charging at him and trying tackle him into the water only to fail. You were pinned under him, paws in the air and you gave a huff. He shifted above you and you tilted your head.

“Shift” he said smiling and you did expecting pain. You frowned though as he waved his hand, yellow light coming from his hand.

“Was that better?” He asked softly and you nodded surprised.

“I’m a Druid” he said.

“Oh” you said glancing at your nakedness and his. You covered your breasts and looked away with cheeks flushed.

“Why do you hide?” He asked and you glanced to him, biting the inside of your cheek.

“This is- intimate” you muttered.

“I’ve never been intimate, nor has anyone seen me like this” you added embarrassed, you glanced to his face seeing his eyes darken slightly but remaining soft.

“May I kiss you?” He asked softly and you froze, but felt yourself nod. He smiled as he leant down, you closed your eyes as you felt him press his lips to yours. You made an embarrassing noise, but he just deepened the kiss. Your arms left covering your breasts and you gripped his forearms instead as he began to kiss down your jaw and to your neck. You felt him press his lower half to you, hips meeting yours, you gasped hand slapping over your mouth. You heard him chuckle lightly, his breath tickling your neck.

“I want to worship you” he said softly and heat ran straight through your body.

“I want to taste you” he pressed a kiss to a sensitive spot on your neck that made you squirm.

“Feel you” he muttered and you sealed your eyes close. You felt his hand rest on your ribs before sliding up your side and over your hip, before gripping your thigh. He gripped the flesh pulling it gently so your knee bent. He stopped kissing your neck and chuckled again as you opened your eyes and flushed, you moved your hand and he kissed you again.

“You’re not so feisty when you’re flustered” he grinned and you glared.

“I was wrong” he chuckled and you hated how you loved the sound. Hated how you loved the feeling of him against you. You were battling with yourself, you didn’t even realise he had slid down your body till lips pressed against your inner thigh. Your eyes went down to his, he smirked pushing your legs further apart before you felt his breath against your folds. Your breath hitched when a tongue darted out and ran through them, a groan leaving his lips as he began to lick. Your body squirmed and you closed your eyes leaning your head back fully. You had one hand on your stomach in a fist, the other at your side, he was skilful, gods you felt like you were in heaven, or hell. You felt his hand snake up your stomach and you opened your hand to hold it, which he gladly accepted. You moaned as he began to suck and prod his tongue against your entrance. You gripped his hand harshly but he didn’t seem to care, too busy working you up with his tongue. You felt fingers though, joining his tongue and sliding in heat. You moaned back arching as he began to slowly thrust his finger in and out. His fingers were much bigger than yours and much more delightful, you kept clenching his hand as you felt your stomach tighten with need and release. You moaned brokenly when he added a second finger, working you open for what was hopefully to come. His mouth paid extra attention to your clit while his fingers scissored and beckoned. You whined lowly muttering a please that you barely managed to get out. You felt him grin and wanted to slap the cockiness off his face, but was too caught in the pressure building. You felt the knot in your stomach come undone as you came with a moan. Your legs shuddered and you panted loudly as he continued riding out your high slowly. He sat back up, and crawled up your body again smiling down at you.

“Beautiful” he whispered and you flushed looking away. You waited for him to move, but he didn’t and you looked back ready to huff at him. He had a playful look and you groaned quietly with a huff, why was he teasing?

“Why’re you teasing?” You asked.

“Because it gets you worked up” he smirked and you glared with a huff, you crossed your arms over your chest too, looking away till he kissed down your neck and you felt his hips shift. You tensed a bit as you felt the tip of his cock resting by your entrance. He grabbed one of your hands and pressed it above your head, clenching it before he thrusted in. You moaned while he groaned in your ear, you held your breath before panting. You clenched his hand, gods you felt full. He let you adjust before slowly skipping out and back in, your eyes slipped shut as you felt the sting.

“Gods” you muttered.

“I’ve got you” he whispered giving your hand a gentle squeeze. You whined in response as he set a slow pace, the sting slowly fading. His hand left yours as he rested on it instead and you wrapped your arms around him. His pace quickened slowly and you were struggling to keep in your moans.

“Only I can hear you” he whispered lifting his head which made you open your eyes. He kissed you gently and you moaned into his mouth as he began to quicken again. He was getting close, his pants became uneven and his hips were moving more desperately. You closed your eyes tightly again, back arching as he sped up to chase his release. You gripped his arms in your hands as his hips stuttered and he came with a groan. His head was in your neck panting harshly as you lifted your hands to run them up and down his back.

“I’m sorry” he suddenly said and you frowned.

“Why?” You asked as he lifted his head.

“I didn’t bring you to your release again” he said looking guilty and you smiled shaking your head pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Another time” you whispered and his eyes widened slightly but smiled as he kissed you once more.

[whackk-kermitt]

Oh I got a good one, How the God of War characters would react to reader kissing them for the first time eather on the cheek or the lips or both. Please definitely add Atreus. Please

Smooches

Warnings: Cuties being cute.

Genre: Headcanons

≫ ────── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ────── ≪

Kratos

It was a total shock to Kratos when he felt your lips against his temple.

You would never guess he was dumbfounded and awestruck by the sudden affection.

He didn't respond with words or even look at you, just kept on with his task.

He wracked his brain trying to think of what the kiss had been for.

What made you think to do it?

All he had done before was take the flint and start the fire you were having trouble starting.

After all, he needed that fire going so he could cook the fresh game.

He didn't quite understand until Mimir, the smartest man alive, told him after you'd excused yourself from the room.

“You've been married before, brother! How do you not realize that women relish being taken care of?”

So you kissed him because he helped you?

That's it?!

That's ridiculous.

He totally started helping you out more often though.

Not because he yearned for you to kiss I'm more often.

No.

Definitely not.

He only wanted to show you how to do the things you should know how to do already.

Smooches were just a bonus.

Atreus

He'd liked you for so long that by the time you'd kissed him it was like a damn breaking open and river water finally resuming the course it was meant to flow.

Even if it was just a sweet peck on the cheek while sitting beside each other at the campfire.

A peck that lasted a second.

But to him, it felt like everything was finally the way things should be.

He smiled and shuddered and tried to find words or the courage you had to reciprocate.

He stumbled under himself for a few long moments hating how stupid he must have looked.

He was afraid his awkward response ruined the mood.

He almost had the heart to blame you, you did this to him after all.

But that embarrassment only lasted a little bit before he was reassured this a longer kiss on the other cheek.

He settled for comfortable silence enjoying the moment.

Not before kissing your hands of course.

Such a gentleman.

Mimir

He really enjoyed the moments you stole him away and walked with him, sat with him, talked for hours about nothing and everything.

You'd find a log, or field and lay him in you lap, laugh and talk sweet to him.

It was one of these moments, were you stopped him mid story, lifted him up close and kissed him sweetly on the lips.

He was saddened at first, insecurities about being just a head filled him.

He cares for you, absolutely, there was no doubt he'd be happy to spend the rest of his days with you.

But he felt you deserved better than an old man with not body to hold you with.

You didn't seaem to mind, and since he didn't really have the guts (metaphorically and literally) to voice these concerns you just kept coming back for more smooches.

“You deserve better, love.” He finally spoke. “A man who could hold you.”

He didn't believe you when you said none of that matters to you.

He argued his point for a few minutes.

“Well, you have no legs to run away from me. So your fate is sealed, my love.”

He almost laughed until you kissed him again.

Indeed it was.

Sindri

The first kiss between you wasn't necessarily a real kiss.

But it made his heart swell up more than anything he'd felt, ever.

It was a long-fought battle, some nearly died.

He'd not been there with you Kratos and the rest.

But when they all returned without you, and told him of the struggle he was a second from demanding where you were.

He was scared.

Only for you to walk in, wound wrapped up, armor rinsed of blood and grub.

You'd taken time outside to clean yourself before entering his home.

The relief of seeing you alive and well was enough to make him smile so purely.

Then, as you approached, scars of near death in your eyes, you smiles back and blew him a kiss.

It made him stubble over his feet as he met you halfway, a gesture he'd never thought of anyone doing for him.

He considered for a moment kissing you for real, but his stomach twisted and he settled for returning the hand gesture.

He revealed it the way it wiped the pain in your eyes and made them glow with beautiful life again.

It wasn't anything extravagant or overly romantic, but it was something sweet and simple.

Perfect for both of you.

Heimdal

All he'd done was throw an insult in the direction of some hag who was too invasive of yours and his business for his liking.

You were for the few people he tolerated and it irritated him that someone would sully your name out of petty spite.

The next thing he knew, you were on him. 

He was more surprised he didn't see it coming.

He had no time to even process what you were thinking before you laid one him.

Then he realized you didn't even think about what you were doing until you were doing it.

Kissing the life out of him.

He enjoyed the fact your instinctual reaction to him “defending your honor” was to rob the air from his lungs.

It was such a little thing that got suck a big reaction.

He didn't mind at all, even after you pulled away and apologized.

He just smirked and pulled you back in.

Baldur

He’d been angry, throwing things, breaking furniture, seething, and cursing his mother’s name.

Another dead end, false lead, trying to find someway to break his curse.

You just stood there watching sorrowfully until he called enough to know he would hurt you if you approached.

You’d been by his side since the start, trying to help.

Watching him go mad.

When he did calm, and sat, panting and gritting his teeth, you took a seat beside him.

He could not feel the way you hand gently touched his shoulder.

He could not feel, the hand you placed over his chest and stroked to try and smooth him.

That made him angry all over again.

He wanted to feel your touch more than anything.

He never had the chance of being close to you like this before his curse.

Out of the corner of his eye he watched you lean in and place a soft kiss on his jawline.

His anger slipped into despair, as he wished more than anything to feel the warmth of your embrace.

The softness of your skin.

The taste of your lips.

At least he could still feel you in his heart, but it wasn't enough.

≫ ────── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ────── ≪

•Kermitts Masterlist•

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

This one has been circling in my mind for a while and I’ve been waiting for the full headcanons to open up for it.

M6 and MC have an argument, and MC abruptly left to clear their head. It’s been an hour or two and it’s begun to storm, and MC hasn’t come back yet. Whether MC returns on their own or the M6 end up going out to find them, they find MC soaked to the bone and freezing cold.

- 🌿

The Arcana HCs: When MC argues with M6 and gets stuck in a storm

-- to set the scene --

It was so inconsequential, you don't even remember what it was about. All you can remember is that you had decided to take a walk to avoid blowing the disagreement out of proportion, and before you knew it, you were a good ways away from shelter and a storm was rolling in. It's impossible to stay warm in the downpour that soaks your thin clothes. When you see your lover again, you're drenched, shivering, and much more lonely and depressed than you expected to be.

Julian

He originally tried to follow you out, if only because he could tell that you were upset and he didn't want you to have to deal with it alone. Once he saw that being alone was the point, he left it

Of course, being left by himself wasn't helpful. His anxiety began to blow the whole ordeal out of proportion, and by the time the storm hit, he was half convinced that he had ruined your life

It goes without saying that Julian and storms do not mix well

When you finally make it back to the front door of your home, soaked and shivering, it's eerily dark and quiet inside

Julian's curled up in the corner, anxiously wadding his coat up into a crumpled ball in his lap, sniffling because the fire went out

He's leaping up and fussing over you as soon as you walk in

Building the fire back up, bringing you a warm change of clothes and a towel, chafing your cold hands between his for warmth

He's babbling almost incoherently about how worried and frightened he was and it's not hard to realize half of it is the storm

It ends in a resolution shaky with relief, holding each other and slowly warming up as you both agree to try processing better

Asra

They're more than happy to give you space - if an independent moment to yourself is what you need to figure things out and self regulate, then please, have at it! Take your time and be safe

While you're gone, he'll try to take his mind off of things - and then get fidgety when he can't - and then get frustrated when his best option is to just ... wait until you get back

They eventually give up and head out after a couple hours to check on you, not realizing it's raining until they open the door and you're standing right outside dripping wet

All of the heartache is catching up and hitting him right now and he's bundling you inside, eyes full of concern and hurt on your behalf, trying to care for you without overstepping your space

You're freezing! Can they - can they hold you? Only if you want

As upset as he is by the poor state you're in, he's a little relieved that he has the chance to put things back in perspective without needing to scramble for elaborate words to communicate

They love you so much more than an argument - disagreements can be resolved, what matters is you, safe and happy, and loved

Nadia

Fine. Take your space, and while you're doing that, she'll enjoy some time to herself as well. She doesn't take well to feeling brushed off, and this is triggering that just a little bit

Spends the whole time you're gone trying to be productive and muttering to herself about just wanting to fix the problem

Notices that the time drags on, notices the storm rolling in, and stubbornly stands by letting you have what you chose for yourself

And then blaming herself when you return soaked and shivering

This, though, this is problem with a clear solution that she can implement, and she drops everything she's doing to get you into a hot bath and full of warm food and dressed in soft clothes

She's not leaving your side for a moment

But she does want to talk - about how helpless she felt when she wasn't able to reach you to make things right, about how you deserve your space but she doesn't like to feel brushed off

Her tone is disappointed, not in you, but in herself

Highly likely to cuddle you and suggest a spot where you can take your space but she can still reach you in an emergency

Muriel

You needing space is more than understandable. Take as much as you need, he'll be here when you come back

He doesn't love sitting with negative thoughts and feelings, but he's used to it and can handle it fairly healthily

He still worries, though, and when an hour passes and he feels the atmosphere shift, he's getting on his feet and walking out the door to track you down and bring you something rainproof and warm

He doesn't expect you to have walked so far, or for the rain to come down so quickly, or for you to look so small and feel so cold when he reaches you

You can stay upset with him if you want to, but he wants to carry you home. Please let him carry you home

You might be ready to talk about it, you might only want to mumble an apology for leaving without speaking, you might prefer to stay quiet. He'll still hold you like you're made of glass

He'll lay out everything you need and bring you a hot drink, focusing far more on the safety and stability of your home together than the thing that made you upset. You can talk about it later

Portia

She understands you needing space and you're welcome to take it but she hates being left alone to feel strung along and unimportant and she knows that wasn't your intention but -

By the time you walk in the door shivering, she's crying from frustration and working it out by aggressively cleaning out the cottage and making food from Nevivon

The first thing you hear when you walk in is a horrified gasp

She assumed you were fine, you're clearly not fine, don't tell her you've been out in the rain all this time! Get in here, she's fixing you up until it feels like it never happened at all. Talk to her!

Her main impulse is to scold you, considering how much you're accidentally reminding her of her brother right now

More than anything, she's worrying that her love for you might not be enough, that she was too pushy about talking to her and forced you away, that she wasn't clear about her core motive being love

To cut a long story short, she needs a decent amount of comforting too. After the scare, after she's fed and cuddled and snuggled you, she needs some safe, gentle hugs from you

Lucio

He actually thought it would be fine. He's an adult, you're an adult, adults need space sometimes! It doesn't necessarily mean that he did anything wrong -

Okay you've been gone for five minutes and you left really fast and really quietly and the abandonment issues he doesn't want to acknowledge are making their existence felt

He's just going to distract himself and pout in self denial until you get back, and then give you a big hug when you do

YOU'RE FREEZING AND NOW HE'S AS SOAKED AS YOU ARE

What happened? Did you stay out in the storm like that, alone?? Are you that mad at him??? Tell him it isn't so!

It's not, thankfully, but after that roller coaster of emotions he's gluing himself to your side for mutual comforting purposes

He's drawing a bath, and then he's taking it with you. He's getting something warm to drink, and he's drinking it with you. He's hunting down blankets, and he's snuggling under them with you

Sometimes, in life, people make oopsies. He's lucky enough to have a partner who knows how to recover from them with him

[sophswritingthings]

hello !! so like, i suddenly got a fever due to flu season (just when finals was over 😭) and i have this scenario in mind where mizu takes care of sick!reader/the other way around.

mizu w/ sick!reader

i imagine her to not be so good at it, only handling stitches and gash wounds whenever she gets hurt. so, when it's about fevers/other internal illnesses (+ the fact that no one probably showed her how to treat and deal with it), i think mizu goes on auto pilot and does whatever she thinks might work 😭

of course, being the kind soul that he is, ringo may offer his assistance. but mizu wants to be the one to take care of you.

[ + bonus points if mizu and reader has some sort of distance instead of having a close bond. imagine mizu grumbling how weak reader is and reader just goes, "you don't know what you're doing, do you?" ]

reader w/ sick!mizu

mizu rarely gets sick, she doesn't even remember the last time she had it. or the feeling of someone treating her while she laid down, vulnerable, somewhere hidden from view─or in bed, if she were lucky.

i think she's the type to neglect herself. saying "it'll pass" while wobbly holding her sword. this also explains why she doesn't know how to treat others, (ahem, you), as she had only sucked it up and dealt with it like another obstacle on the road.

im so sorry this is kind of long 😭 i love your works so much!!

a/n: THIS IS SO SWEEEET. and yes, mizu is 100% a girlfailure when it comes to this sort of thing

warning(s): swearing

word count:  710 words / 3,782 characters

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

pairing: mizu x fem!sick!reader 

————————————————————————————————————————————

“could you lie down, please? for gods sake,” mizu narrowed her eyes at you, ushering you back toward the bed. she heads for a table on the other side of the room, littered with poultices. 

did she have any clue what to do with them?

hell no.

but she would try whatever she thought could work, you being sick would only hinder your progress on the quest. and no way could she have that.

and she didn’t want you to be hurting, either.

you gaze at her across the room, your face was red and puffy—hot and under the weather. you can barley see her, due to your disoriented feeling, but she knew for a fact she had no fucking clue what she was doing.

“.. mizu,” you rasp. “you don’t know what you’re doing… do you?”

mizu freezes, if only for a second. she sighs, grumbling something under her breath.

“no,” she answers blankly. “I do not.”

“then why didn’t you take ringo’s help? I’m sure he knows something,” you murmur, your eyes trained on her as she walks over to you. she settles down on the edge of the bed.

her hand gently brushed the side of your face, “I want to be the one to care for you,” she whispers. “you’re my responsibility. I brought you out here, it’s my job to care for you.”

you’re not sure your face could get anymore flushed, but it somehow does, your heart pounding in your chest as your stomach drops.

“oh,” your mouth forms a cute little “o” shape, casting your gaze downward.

she chuckles, taking your hand and pressing a quick kiss to it.

“you’re going to get yourself sick,” you protest, watching as she gathers herself back to her feet—and heads for the table again.

“I don’t get sick, (y/n).” she shoots back.

“everyone gets sick at some point, mizu. even you. doesn’t matter if you think you’re built of—“ you cough in between words, “—steel, even.”

she scoffs, “I don’t think I’m made of steel. steel is a pure, strong metal. something I am not. nowhere close to it.”

you sigh. you never liked the way she talked about herself.

“whatever you think you are, mizu.. everyone gets sick. even you.” you reply.

she decides not to respond, this time, not wanting to argue you when you don’t feel well. she listens as the door opens, revealing ringo with a bowl of soup. he smiled, and placed it down on your bedside table.

“thank you, ringo,” you rasp, returning his infectious smile.

“of course, (y/n),” he replies, glancing at mizu. “are you sure you do not need help, master? I heard—“

she cuts him off with her hand, “I’ve got it, ringo. thank you.”

he seems surprised she even thanked him; but he nods his head and slides out of the room.

she grabs a poultice from the table, and walks over to you. she sets in down in your hands, gesturing for you to drink. 

you look at her, skeptical that this is one that will even work.

“it isn’t poison,” she grumbled. “I know what poison looks like.”

you chuckle weakly, “I’m sure you do,” you gulp down the poultice, gaging a little at its bitter taste. “my fucking god.”

she laughs at your reaction, reaching over you in the bed and grabbing the bowl of soup.

“.. are you going to feed me?” you giggle, watching as she slides the noddles onto the chopsticks. for a minute, you thought she was joking. “oh. you’re serious?”

your heart flutters at the thought.

“does it look like I’m joking?” she raises an eyebrow.

you advert yourself gaze, “no.”

“than why are you asking?” she offers you the food again, waiting for you to take it. 

you lean forward, and slurp the noddles into your mouth. “not sure,” you mumble between your food.

“then eat and be quiet,” she murmured. 

you do as your told; smiling as she gently fed you. mizu was never so.. gentle. but you could see her hands shaking, she was scared she would fuck something up.

but here you were… sitting in front of her, having her feed you in your time of need.

you couldn’t help but love her.

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

pairing: sick!mizu x fem!reader

warning(s): swearing 

————————————————————————————————————————————

mizu’s breathing was a bit raspy, a bit heavy as she held her sword wobbly in her hand. being sick was not something she dealt with often.

“mizu,” you narrow your eyes, “you need to sit down.”

“no.” she said firmly, her voice a bit raspy— “it’ll pass, (y/n).”

“I don’t care if “it’ll pass”. you need to sit down. now.” you commanded, grabbing her by the shoulders and pushing her down.

her eyes widen, staring up at you. she was never so forcefully handled, everyone was always so scared of her cold demeanor. 

“.. okay,” she whispered.

“lie back in the bed—and I’ll get you some soup and some medicine. i think ringo’s almost done,” you gently gesture for her to lie down.

she does as she’s told, for once in her life. listening to other people was never her strong suit. but she didn’t feel well, and you wanted to care for her. 

being cared for wasn’t… normal, to her. she never had a caring mother. her ex-husband tried to turn her in for a bounty.. care from someone else was new.

when you returned, you came back with a bowl of soup, and some medicine. a sticky, disgusting poultice. 

“you need to take this,” you hand her the poultice. she gazed at it, disgusting in her hand. but she quickly took it, repulsed by the taste. “it’ll help, I promise.”

“.. right,” she rasped. her eyes travel to the bowl of soup, her eyes alone asking you to hand it to her.

“in a sec,” you place it on the table beside the bed, pulling at her overcoat. she almost jumped out of her skin. “relax.”

you pulled off her overcoat, taking off the layer beneath it, as well. all she was left in was her wrapped, binded chest.

“It’ll make you more comfortable,” you whisper. “eat.”

now, she was happy to do that.

she grabbed the bowl and slowly began to eat, making sure to be slow and steady—she didn’t want to be throwing up her guts later. not in front of you, at the least.

you slide into bed next to her, gently rubbing her sides with your fingers.

she leans into your touch almost instantly. god, why was she so weak to you?

“you’re going to make yourself sick,” she whispers.

“I don’t care,” you grumble back. “my only job right now, is to care for you. sound good?”

she scoffs, adverting her gaze. “.. sounds good.”

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

a/n: HEYYYY holiday is over, back to your regularly scheduled programming!! (I did get p!nk tickets tho guys so that’s cool <3)

[half-dead-writer]

hello I am in fact not dead I've been sick and lacking the motivation to write but hopefully I'll get into the groove again, I got so many requests I'm itching to get done but no strength to do it at all grrrr at first I tried to write a drabble but it just wasn't coming out right so I settled for the short headcanons - as a bonus you can see what I wrote for it below

Kim Pine with a shy and nervous S/O

character: Kim Pine (Scott Pilgrim Takes Off) words: 261 reader: gender neutral warnings: none

𝔯𝔲𝔩𝔢𝔰 + 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 / 𝔖𝔠𝔬𝔱𝔱 𝔓𝔦𝔩𝔤𝔯𝔦𝔪 𝔗𝔞𝔨𝔢𝔰 𝔒𝔣𝔣 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

she thinks your nervousness is cute, to an extent

Kim isn't nervous or shy herself, but she can understand where your worries come from

if you're visibly stressed during a social gathering, she won't make a fuss out of it, instead taking you somewhere where you can cool off

Kim having the patience of a saint plays a big role in your relationship

even if you ask her a lot of times whether you done something wrong (whether it's an issue in your relationship or during an event where you're stressed about something you did during interacting with others) she'll always calmly reassure you and chase away your worries

that doesn't mean she won't be blunt about it, though

she will point out whatever you did right (or wrong) in her usual flat fashion

she doesn't mind re-explaining to you her logical reasons, as much as your anxiety makes you doubt her words

at the end of the day, she loves you, even if your confidence is lacking at times

if your love language isn't as open and not easily perceived, little gestures like holding her hand, staying close, no matter how small it may be - she sees it and appreciates you

the type to come up to the McDonald's counter and ask for extra fries they forgot to pack into your happy meal when you're too shy to ask for them yourself

will argue for/defend you if you need it, but also makes an effort to slowly make you come out of your shell, one step at a time

Seeing the look of pure passion on the drummer's face was enough to keep you occupied throughout the whole session of the band playing. You didn't wanna be a creep, of course, so you kept your staring at a minimum. You couldn't deny Kim held you tight in her grasp, though. She just seemed so cool. Somehow, her sarcastic remarks did not push you away, even if they poked holes in your already weak confidence.

Since you started working at No-Account Video, you made it your goal to get to know her better. Learning Kim was in a band was your best chance at showing your eagerness, as awkward as it was from your side. Your attempts at being social at work usually fizzled out after a few minutes, right after you used all of your small-talk dialogue options. Interacting with people didn't come easy to you, but you had to learn somehow, right? Thankfully, Kim accepted your request of seeing her playing live. Perhaps she took pity on you, seeing how hard it was for you to even utter the question.

The girl lowered her drumsticks, wiping the gathered sweat on her forehead. She grabbed the leftover soda from the nearby table, taking a sip. Briefly acknowledging your presence, she glanced your way.

"So? Do you think we suck?" Stephen asked, furrowing his brows with anxiety and hope, trying to gauge your reaction before you could even respond. He assumed the worst, per usual.

"I think- I think that was awesome." You hoped your smile, even if a bit shy, conveyed your excitement clearly.

"You don't have to be nice just because you don't wanna hurt Stephen's feelings." Kim commented with her usual flat tone, not bothering to sugarcoat her words. She knew they most likely sucked.

"No, no, I- I really think you're cool. Um, all of you." You clarified quickly, obviously overthinking your simple words.

"That's a relief." Her tone was ambiguous, most likely sarcastic, but somehow you managed to pinpoint a bit of sincerity in her words. Perhaps she did care at least a little bit of the opinion of her co-worker.