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juletheghoul · 3 months ago

Note

if you are still taking requests for the general can we PLEASE see what would happen if reader were ever in danger or threatened or kidnapped? to see marcus’ reaction and him do whatever it takes to get them back?? and his reaction to when he does?? 😭😭 i’m shaking askingthis omg,,

You're so right for this nonny, you're practically in my head. I was working on a chapter of the General, and it's basically this so here we go!

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, violence, attack on the villa - you are hurt and Marcus gets serious, hurt/comfort, creampie, master / slave dynamic (power imbalance), Marcus calls reader Girl, reader calls Marcus Dominus, let me know if I missed any!

Unbeta’d, any mistakes are my own!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 2.8k

reblogs are appreciated

Prev chapter Masterlist series masterlist

Your fingers cramped, his tunic had been more damaged than you’d initially thought and what you’d imagined would only take a few minutes, had taken the better part of an hour. With his tunic mended, you used the small knife to cut the thread and blessedly stretched, wincing at the ache in your back from being hunched over. An odd feeling weighed down the pit of your stomach and it was hard to place until you realized how eerily quiet the house was. Not just the familiar quiet of night, but an all-encompassing hush that seemed to cover everything like a blanket.

No crickets chirping, no night birds singing, even the breeze seemed to have stopped. An icy finger followed the line of your spine and when his dogs began barking loudly, it almost made you jump out of your skin.

You ignored the unease in your stomach and reassured yourself, the hour had grown late, and all of the chores had been completed. All that was left to do was fill the water basin in his private chamber, as well as yours. The dogs still barked as you made your way through the peristyle, irritated that despite being well trained, they did not relent. It was unlike them to ignore a command from your dominus and with a frown you belatedly notice one of the house's guards lying prone.

You gasped, rushing over to him to help him, hoping it was only the heat that had gotten to him. You turned him, struggling to reach his face when your hands felt something wet, and with a barely contained scream, you saw that he had been attacked, and had not survived. The realization hit you like a knife to the belly, there was someone in the house, someone intent on sending your Dominus to the underworld.

Ice crawling through your veins and with your heart in your throat, you ran towards his chambers to warn him.

The halls were dark and quiet as you ran as fast as your legs could carry you, praying to Diana to bless you with swiftness, to Mars to bless Marcus’ sword, and to humbly beg Pluto to stay away.

Diana did not listen, and a shadow caught you unawares in the dark hall outside his chamber, cutting off the scream before it left your mouth. Your vision blurred as the faceless hulk behind you all but lifted you by the throat, making you squirm in his grip until he pressed the sharp tip of his blade to your back.

“Silence!” He hissed into your ear, pain radiating from your neck, and where his knife cut shallowly into the skin of your back. You tried to scream, to kick and struggle out of his grip but it was iron, and when he slammed you back against the wall the world turned on its head. You choked on the coughs stuck in your throat, vaguely making out the angry words he hissed in your face.

“Where is he? Where does he keep the valuables?” The fight was going out of you, your eyes, felt like they were going to pop out of your head, and your hands had surely been weighed down with something. Warmth ran down your back.

Your vision blurred and a sinking realization hit you.

I am going to die here.

Everything faded for a moment before you fell, hard, onto the ground. Breathing in felt like swallowing fire, your body was so heavy, and you couldn’t be sure how much time passed before you took in the scene. The man that had attacked you was on the floor before you, his eyes open, but never to see anything again.

“Are you hurt?” His voice is like a balm and it’s with frantic hands that you clutch at him where he’s crouched in front of you.

“Dominus-” Your voice comes out like gravel, your throat burning so much so, tears fill your eyes and he shakes his head, shushing you softly.

“Quiet girl, do not speak if it pains you, simply nod, are you hurt anywhere but here?” His hand is wet with blood, but it touches your neck soft as silk. You nod your head as he helps you to stand, holding you close to his warmth, his eyes scan over all of you, frowning when he sees the blood seeping through the back of your tunic, and flowing down towards your ankle.

“Let me see.” He lifts it, turning you in his grip and an angry sound fills his mouth.

Your heart fills with something huge, something unknowable, unnamable.

“Can you walk?” The strength in him rears its head, and he practically holds you up, you nod your head yes and he nods back once, pressing his bloody finger to his lip to keep you quiet before tucking you in behind him. He picks up his sword and slowly, you both make your way through his halls, hunting those who dared threaten him. He pokes his head around a corner and is confronted with a small group of his attendants, the older women, the toughest of them has a knife in her hand.

“Hide yourselves, I will find you once the threat is removed. Go to the cellar and bar yourselves in.” He nods once and they obey, trusting him to protect those who are alive. You move to join them but his free hand holds you tight. “You stay with me, girl.”

You nod and hold onto his arm like an anchor.

He finds them in his library, rifling through his things and for a moment your heart drops at the sight of them. There are four of them, and they turn in unison, dropping his parchments and smiling to see him alone, and worst of all, accompanied by an injured slave.

Wordlessly they begin to circle and with your throat burning, you begin to pray once more.

One of them advances too quickly and Marcus slices him from throat to groin without blinking. The blood splatters onto Marcus and then spreads from where the man falls on the floor and you feel as though you’re stuck in a nightmare.

“I will give the rest of you the chance to keep your lives if you leave now.”

“To what end? You’ve seen our faces, you will just come looking for us.” One of the braver ones spits it back in his face, looking to the others for support. They advance but he doesn’t let them close enough to hurt either of you. You see why he’s earned his reputation firsthand, and your brain rebels against itself. Part of you is terrified to see such violence outside the arena, in the place that is your home no less. Another part of you though, rejoices to see him fight for his house, for you. His sword moves swiftly, as fluid as water as he cuts his way through them with terrifying ease.

He drips in their blood, unfeeling, unseeing, until there is one left on the ground, clutching at his wounds.

“Mercy, I beg of you!” He holds his hands up, eyes shining with a fear you have never seen.

“The time for mercy has passed.” He blocks your view, but you hear the sound of flesh parting, a sickening gurgling sound, and then silence.

You stand there in the dark room, still as a statue until he blocks your vision again, his bloodied hands holding your face softly. He says nothing, only holds your gaze and you cannot help but press yourself close, gripping onto his arms if only to convince yourself that he is healthy and whole before you.

Wordlessly, he leads you away from the gore of the room. He completes his circuit of the house, finding the guards that survived the attack as well as other attackers, none of them having survived their attempt.

He thanks them for fulfilling their duty to protect and orders them to dispose of the gore corrupting his home. He orders them to find the others hidden away, to let them know the house is once again safe. Your hands tremble, but you cannot be sure if it’s from fear or from the way he has not let you go since this whole ordeal began. You look down as he speaks his commands, to see the way his hand sits on your hip, wrapped around you, pressing you close to his side. The blood on his hands has seeped into the fabric of your tunic, it is smeared all over your arms and your neck. You swallow and the pain is still there, and when you shift his hand tightens around you, pressing into the shallow cut and you wince.

He feels the way you shy away from the pain, and promptly dismisses his guards, advising them that fresh water and linens are to be brought to him at once.

“Come girl, let me tend to that.”

The shaking does not stop, neither does the feeling of ghostly fingers wrapping themselves around your neck. Neither does the pain. Your fingers itch to do something, but with your Dominus cleaning and bandaging your wound, you can do nothing but stand in front of him, and tremble like a leaf.

He does his best to soothe, but his gentle touch and soft words can only do so much. There is anger in you, a sharp clawing desire to break something, to hurt those that hurt you, those that snuck into his house like rats to do naught but harm. If your throat didn’t hurt so much, you’d scream. His lips bring you back though, where they press to your back when he is done bandaging you up.

You watch him, wild-eyed with the blood still pounding in your ears, and wonder how he can be so calm, cleansing the blood off his skin like he’s done it a thousand times. But hasn’t he? The reality of him becomes crystal clear, this was nothing to him. His eyes are focused on the task at hand, they move methodically, dipping into the water and scrubbing at his face, and his arms. He undresses to the skin and continues his ritual, only looking to you once he is satisfied with his state.

“Come, girl, undress.” Your body falls into its usual rhythm, obedience.

You strip, careful of the wound and your neck, and once nude, you walk over to him. Silently, he dips a new cloth and sets about his task. Your face is first, gently but thoroughly cleaned of every drop of blood. Your arms next, and then your neck. You wince, but stay still. Handprints that had seeped through and marked your hip, your back, all of them wiped away like they’d never been there. He crouches and follows the trail of your blood where it had slid down the swell of your ass, down the back of your leg towards your ankle. Not a drop is spared, and then he is done.

“Thank-” It's a harsh whisper that comes out of your mouth, and he doesn’t let you finish the sentiment.

“Do not speak, I would not have you in pain. Your throat must heal and the more you speak the longer it will take.” He pressed a soft kiss to your brow, but you held him close, cold all of a sudden as you stood there in his chamber, both of you bathed in moonlight and damp from the cloth. He lets you clutch to him, lets you press yourself into the cage of his arms, and wraps you up in them. He is the cure, you do not tremble when he holds you like this.

An ache builds, the need for comfort, for warmth, for affection. For love, whispers a tiny little part of you, a part you ignore.

You stand on the tips of your toes and press your lips to his, hoping he can sense what you need.

“Are you not in pain?” His fingers curl around the long line of your neck, feather-soft, holding your gaze as you try to kiss him again. You nod, but try again anyway and he holds you still. You mouth the words, exaggerating the shapes of them in your mouth so he will understand.

“I need you.”

He searches your eyes and is satisfied with what he finds, nodding once and then finally giving you his mouth, his tongue, and the loveliest of sounds from deep in his chest.

You take charge and push him to sit on his bed, guiding him to lie on his back and he follows where you lead, arranges himself exactly how you want him, and lets you climb onto him. You straddle his waist, fitting his hardening cock between the lips of your sex. He bites his lip, eyes focused on the way you rock yourself along his length and despite giving you control of this encounter, his hands land heavy on your hips. His fingers dig in, sliding up to hold onto your breasts, both fingers pinching and stroking at the peaked tips of them in the way he knew you liked, the way he knew would turn your cunt into a fountain of arousal.

“Use me, girl, do what you need, take your pleasure.” One hand stayed on your breast, the other went to his lips and he dipped his thumb into his mouth, wetting it before sliding it between where the head of his cock peeked out from between your legs and slipped it over your clit. A heavy sigh leaves your mouth, the pain in your throat mingling with the pleasure between your legs.

You bend forward, pressing your mouth to his with an urgency that claws at your very being. The desperation isn’t just in you though, there’s something of the caged animal in Marcus, a tremble in his fingers when they dig into the meat of your hips that conveys an itch to take control. You need this now though, so with his tongue in your mouth, you lean forward and lift your hips enough to give your hand room to grasp the weeping head of him, and notch it at your soaked entrance.

It’s almost too much, the way he fills you, the slick head of him almost too deep. His cock twitches and you cannot help but clench around him, your cunt flooding with waves and waves of arousal for him. His hands are charged like the air before a storm, roaming from your thighs, to your hips, up to thumb and strum at your nipples. Moans and whimpers slip out despite the pain in your throat.

You roll your hips, the pressure against your clit radiates out and the pleasure builds. It makes you frantic, the slip of him inside made all the better with the way you soak his lap. You speed up, chasing the friction and the pleasure just there, despite the burn in your thighs and the sweat beading on your brow with the effort of your movements.

“That’s it girl, fuck me-” Your stomach drops with the dark thrill of him letting you take, your nipples so sensitive under his thumbs, it’s almost painful. You want to go faster, but you’re losing steam, and you let out a sigh in frustration, pushing past the discomfort.

“Come, let me give it to you.” His hands slip around your back, and he pulls you forward, so you lie onto his chest folded into his embrace. He wraps his arms around you, fully, holding your arms to your sides so you can do nothing but take, and then he gives.

He plants his feet, and thrusts up hard, and fast enough to make your mouth fall open in a silent scream.

“This is how you want it, hard, you want to feel this cock for days don’t you girl?” He grunts out the words, and despite the red, violent haze of his love, you cannot help but marvel at the strength in him.

“Yes, please Dominus, don’t stop-” It comes out whispery, into the crook of his neck but he shudders all the same, and somehow, he fucks up into you harder. You turn to liquid in his arms, shuddering when the climax hits you hard as a punch to the gut. He lets out a guttural sound, but fucks you through it just the same, drawing out the orgasm until it takes him under.

He comes hard, rope after rope of his release painting your insides. Hot and messy and it almost makes you purr like a cat.

He lets go, both of you breathing hard, and sticky with the sweat of exertion.

“Give me a few minutes.” He breathes hard, while you press soft kisses, and kitten licks where the salt of him collects, “I will fuck you again, I am ravenous for you, girl.” His hands reach down, and grab at the meat of your ass and you smile.

“Yes Dominus.” It doesn’t hurt as much as it did, and you’re sure that by morning, you’ll be right as rain.

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peppertoastuniverse · 6 months ago

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pep reads: gojo satoru – long fics (pt.1)

Part 2

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ

☆ the way you love me by @peachsayshi [AO3/tumblr] [status: ongoing ◦ 29/? chapters] [smut!] [fwb!gojo] #pep's first fic she was OBSESSED with #real good good smut WITH FEELINGS

“We can stop anytime. If either one of us feels like... this ...might be too much. We stop, no questions .” “We can stop anytime,” Gojo repeated “... and nothing changes between us .” You swallowed hard at his last statement. You may not be able to read his eyes but you could hear it in his voice that he needed reassurance. “No matter what happens, we’ll still be friends...” you replied softly, “now kiss me before I change my mind.”

☆ you and me by tomodachi [AO3: ] [status: completed ◦ 5/5 chapters] [tear jerker] [eventual smut!] #pep cried #gojo just kinda loves you real hard

“Prisoners say the most comical things when their judgment comes,” you tilt your head, lifting a finger before him, “Who are you?"

--- History is written by the winners, Satoru knew this well. It was only when he lost and got sealed inside the Prison Realm he learned how to be weak and find out a long buried truth.

☆ ito by @peekamatcha [AO3] [status: ongoing ◦ 48/? chapters] [super slow burn] [shinto elements] #pep DIES with every update #the TWIST in that one chapter omg

You, a former sorcerer now working as a university lecturer, were hoping to maintain your distance with the sorcerer world for an eternity to come. However, with the reappearance of an upperclassmen from a decade ago, you are forced to go on a journey which you would rather sit out of. But somebody must save humanity from the impending apocalypse and apparently the job falls on the shoulders of you two.

It would have been alright had he not been everything you didn’t want to be reminded of. And the sacrifices to be made may be more than what had been bargained for. ☆moonlight by @septembersummer [AO3/tumblr:] [status: completed ◦ 10/10 chapters] [smut!] #pep loves this AU #pep SCREAMED

Gojo Satoru is dying. And no, it's not his fault this time.

The curse which is withering Satoru into an early grave is actually the product of his great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather, who had a couple of sons that refused to procreate. And what does a proud, powerful man do when his sons refuse to fuck, and there won't be another heir to the clan?

He curses his own bloodline, of course.

It's only natural that he forces them through some twisted form of sorcery to become uncontrollably, violently attracted to the person they're most genetically compatible with.

It's even better that the curse creates a permanent, unbreakable bond between the two unwilling lovers. That's right, it usually takes more than one fuck to make a baby-- so, why not force them to have twelve?

Satoru wished his ancestor would be resurrected from the grave, just so that he could kill him again. That is, before Satoru inevitably dies.

He's had a good run, he thinks. Now, all he has to do is make sure you don't find out that you can fuck him back to life and try to very stupidly save him from himself.

(here's a spoiler: you do).

☆ a typical family by @literalia [AO3/tumblr] [status: completed? ◦ 32/32 chapters] [non liner narrative] [dad!gojo] #pep absolutely MELTED #slice of life #pep's gojo comfort fic

"satoru. where did you get these kids?"

after a six month absence, satoru shows up at your door two little kids following behind. chaos ensues.

☆ and if i cant see by hollowdonut [AO3: ] [status: unknown ◦ 26/? chapters] [slowburn] [eventual smut!] [tw: ptsd] #pep loves the reader's dynamics with gojo!

They say eyes are the window to the soul, but Gojo’s eyes are almost always hidden behind a blindfold. Even when they aren’t, you can never tell what he’s thinking.

You wonder if you should’ve taken that teaching job in Kyoto instead.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ

bonus!

☆ all hail the empress! by @chuluoyi [tumblr/AO3: ] [status: unknown ◦ 1/? chapters] [smut!] #pep loves this AU #but THE END THO? OMGGG you are an empress perfect in every way... until your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress. but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you, and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...

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edwardslvrr · 5 months ago

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CHAPTER 25 𐙚 lewis hamilton

౨ৎ lewis hamilton x younger!girlfriend!reader

the one where lewis and reader have a 14 year age gap and the media keeps commenting on it, making reader unsure about their relationship when lewis reassures her quickly ( based on this request )

taglist if you'd like to be added to my taglist, message me privately or comment on this post

warning this is all fake and just for fun, no hate to any of the people mentioned. Just a reminder that this is pure for entertainment хохо

main masterlist 𐙚 lewis masterlist

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౨ৎ lewishamilton new york city

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lewishamilton lovely few days, now onto Miami! 👊🏾

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#formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 #lewis hamilton smau #lewis hamilton masterlist #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton #mercedes #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine

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luvt0kki · 1 year ago

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𝟎𝟎𝟐 | 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭

The distance and the time between us

It’ll never change my mind, cause’

Baby, I would die for you

🎧 : Die For You - The Weekend

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ s.w.m masterlist ୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ taglist ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧

001 | 002 | next

pairings : ot8 x reader ( mingi x reader )

wc: 6.1k ( sorry for any errors ;-; )

cw: mature, minors do not interact, nsfw, mentions of assassination, hinted violence, slow burn, polyamory, smut , dom!Mingi for this chapter, choking kink, reader is bratty here, seggs, oral, eavesdropping, Mingi’s nickname for reader is baby, masturbation, hinted threesome, we feel bad for Wooyoung, filming/recording kink, some possessiveness on Mingi’s end, voyeurism. SPECIAL APPEARANCE OF SOMEONE IN THE END 👀

REMINDER : my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.

a/n: I’m so amazed at how well received the first chapter was and it really gave me the motivation to write the second one. I hope you guys like this one, it’s been awhile since I wrote some smut it’s like I’m losing my skill of seggsual euphemisms. ALSO ONE OF MY FAVOURITE WRITERS HERE IS READING MY FIC?! like omg no way 😭 hope you guys like this one . ( Feel to scream/fangirl in my askbox, I love those kind of interactions. I NEED TO KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS TOO) 💕

The Destiny was a spaceship Hongjoong procured with frightening ease from the Military Space Base he was stationed in long ago.

That was the sugarcoated way of saying he stole it.

If he hadn’t turned his back on the corrupt Military base, this fighter military starship turned into one of the most renowned ships and weaponized fortress, wouldn’t have become your shared space with your home, your home being the boys.

“I’ve kept your room clean,” Seonghwa stood next to you while you leaned into Mingi’s side who refused to not be on you in any way. He was clingy like that.

“You didn’t have too, Hwa.”

“I had some time to kill in the months you’ve been away. As usual, I didn’t snoop around.” He reassured you, hands folded neatly and elegantly behind him. “I left some little surprises for you to find too.”

“It’s not like she’ll be staying there all the time,” Mingi said, hand on the small of your back and guiding you up the ramp and into the ship. “She’ll be with me.”

“Don’t hog her.” San butted in, a small slouch in his usually straight posture.

“Awe, Sannie.” You cooed sweetly, rubbing his arm.

Wooyoung groaned, a couple of paces behind you, Mingi, San and Seonghwa.

“Jeez, what’s got your panties in a twist?” Yunho asked with a lilt of humor in his tone.

“Mingi’s room is next to mine.” Wooyoung huffed, feeling the comfort and safety of the Destiny make him relax with each step they took back into their home.

“And?” Yunho raised a brow.

“Never mind.” I don’t want to hear them fucking.

Even though Wooyoung didn’t say that out loud, Yunho knew what ‘never mind’ entailed. He can tell by the way he threw glances at you but the taller man only smiled and pretended like everything was fine and that he was oblivious.

“Join us in the lounge yeah?” He patted Wooyoung on the back. “We’ll be drinking a bit more and catching up. Plus, you can start to get know her better.”

“O-okay.” He could use a couple of more drinks to relax a bit.

Wooyoung paused a bit in the hall, letting his crew mates walk ahead of him and into the warm lit lounge a couple more steps forward. It’s not that he was anxious about you being here and adjusting to the dynamics with eight of you. He was confused. He felt as if there was something he didn’t know, something kept from him and he just couldn’t quite place his finger on it. It’s like something was staring him right in the face and whatever it was, was just at the tip of his tongue but he really couldn’t conclude what it was.

Other than that, the more he was around you, flashbacks of how you two danced in the club, so close and teasing each other plagued his thoughts. The way you touched him earlier that night left a ghost touch that sent shivers down his spine when he thought about it or like now, when he looked at you leaned into Mingi’s side on the couch with his arm draped over your shoulder laughing at something Jongho said.

Now he could see you properly. The mask was discarded and sat on the low coffee table in the center and without it, he was even more mesmerized. The way your eyes smiled with your lips and how your eyes paid attention to whoever spoke, as if everything they were saying to you was the most wonderful and interesting thing in the world. This was completely different from the woman he had danced with. You looked…sweet?

“Oh? This is the childhood best friend you were talking about.” Your pretty lashes fluttered at the realization while you held conversation with Yeosang sat on the couch across you with San.

Wooyoung perked up in his seat at the mention of him.

“It’s nice to finally meet you. I hope Hongjoong didn’t give you a hard time when you joined.” You smiled gently.

Hongjoong did take a while to warm up to him…but Wooyoung didn’t want to admit it, well not in front of the said man.

“Did he give you a hard time?” Wooyoung turned the question to you.

“Not at all.” You shrugged your shoulders a bit while Mingi played with the ends of the pink bob wig.

“You mean he couldn’t because you two were at each other’s throats.” Yunho chuckled, recalling the memory. “Literally.”

“What?” Wooyoung’s eyes widened, glancing between you and Hongjoong who shared a knowing look with one other. “Someone care to tell me more?”

“Y/N was actually hired to kill Hongjoong.” San spoke up. “She had snuck into the ship when we had docked in Estrade for supplies and she got to him in his office.”

“How?”

San laughed a little at the memory, glancing your way with a smile that Wooyoung has never seen on him before. It was different to the one when he’s happy, this one was tender and sweet.

He tilted his head up a little, hand gesturing to ceiling. “Through the vents.”

“It was almost too good to be true. The Destiny’s vents were perfect for anyone to infiltrate which was why after the incident, I advised him to tighten the security of the ship.” You added, unclasping your heels and slipping them off before folding them beneath you, snuggling closer to Mingi.

“I still don’t know how you found the entryway of the vents or even pried it open.” Hongjoong shook his head at the memory.

“What? Like it’s hard?” You stared down at him with a playful smirk and eyes twinkling challengingly.

“Careful, baby.” Mingi warned lightly, knowing what could transpire if you and Hongjoong went head to head again.

“So what stopped you from killing him?” Wooyoung asked. You wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t.

“My devilishly good looks.” Hongjoong uttered while you said a different answer.

“San.”

A silence fell amongst the group, it was comfortable for the most part but Wooyoung found the silence to be fuel to the bonfire of curiosity that sparked in the private dance room.

Noticing Wooyoung’s inquisitiveness, you decided to give him just enough to quiet his mind.

“San and I had worked together in the past. I trust him with my life. He asked me not to kill Hongjoong so…I didn’t.”

The answer was enough for now and a part of Wooyoung told him to stop prying and that he shouldn’t , not when he’s around all the other members. What irked him as well was how you had said that with such a pretty smile and a soft look in your eyes. Were you really dangerous?

“It’s not like you could, sweetheart.” Hongjoong smirked and you rolled your eyes, quickly deciding to end the growing tension with all the questions. There were things that needed to be discussed with the others. Which was what exactly about you and about your past could be shared with the new crew member.

“No, I couldn’t.”

Your voice was soft, gazing at the Captain in a way Wooyoung felt envious. Could he earn the same gaze from you? Would you look at him one day with the same fondness you had for all of them?

“You’re unfortunately too handsome to kill. It’d be a shame for such a pretty face to be smothered by a pillow.”

Your words made Hongjoong laugh while the rest smiled at how you two interacted. Wooyoung didn’t know if he was reading into it too much but they all looked at you in a way that hinted a closeness that was more than camaraderie, and a bond and trust that grew between a crew.

“As much as I’d love to stay up and catch up with you all, I’m going to retire for the evening.” You bade them good night, hooking the straps of your heels by your finger before getting off the couch and your other hand in Mingi’s.

“Goodnight, fellas.” Mingi clicked his tongue with a smirk, most of them rolling their eyes at him as the two of you made your way to the crews deck.

Once the two of you were out of ear shot, Seonghwa spoke.

“San, you’re pouting.”

“Mingi hogs her.” He murmured almost child like and crossed his arms over his chest.

“We’ll all get a chance to catch up and spend time with her. But you know…Mingi.”

“He’s way too clingy. She was my friend first.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know.” Yunho placed his hands on San’s shoulders briefly before excusing himself to his room.

Wooyoung was next to call it a night, unaware of how Yeosang, Jongho, Seonghwa and Hongjoong watched him leave. They were concerned…but they knew they needed to discuss something. Well, someone.

Wooyoung.

“So? Did you enjoy my little show?”

Mingi was watching you look around his room as if it was the first time you were ever let in here. He was sat on the foot of his bed, hands on the mattress as you removed your earrings and placed it on his desk.

“I did,” he replied, eyes completely on you and taking you in. “But when I realized that you had been dancing for other men I got jealous.” There was that hint of agitation in his voice.

“You don’t need to be jealous.” You reassured him, removing Yunho’s blazer and draping it over neatly on the back rest of Ming’s desk chair. “They never touched me.”

Mingi’s eyes darkened at the sight of your almost naked form. It has been too long since he was last with you.

You watched Mingi’s eyes rake your form through the mirror. He scanned you from your heels to your head. His eyes lingered on the plumpness of your ass accentuated by the lace purple underwear a bit longer before he met your eyes in the mirror.

“Keep the wig on, baby.”

“Oh, you like it?” You grinned, turning around to slowly walk towards him, letting the beaded strings of your bralette sway and shimmer.

“I like the whole get up. It’s sexy.” His hand reached for your waist once you stood between his parted thighs, the tall big man gazing up at you with desire.

“You like that I’m dressed like a stripper?” You raised a brow questioningly while you ran your fingers through his short pink hair that matched your wig.

“I like you in anything.” He slid his hands up higher til his thumbs rest just below the band of your bra. “You look so pretty.”

“I love the new hair,” you giggled, caressing his handsome face. “Yunho colored it for you?”

“Yeah,” he hummed, leaning his head into your abdomen.

“I’m sorry I was away for so long.”

“Take me with you next time…or San or Yeosang.” He murmured, voice soft as you held him to you. “I’ll rest easier knowing one of us is with you.”

“I can handle myself. You know that.”

Mingi groaned a little before guiding you to sit on his lap, your pretty legs straddling his waist while his hands supported and cradled your back.

“I know…” he sighed.

The two of you were now face to face. Mingi looked into your eyes, searching them. For what, you didn’t know but you let him. “But you’ll let me take care of you…” he cupped your face gently, his thumb caressing your cheekbone and like a cat, you leaned into his touch, eyes closing as you relished his warmth. “Right?” His thumb swiped over your lower lip, your eyes fluttering open as he parted them just a little.

Despite his reputation, he was your gentle and loving Mingi. Sure, he was rough around the edges and appeared domineering. No one flies a fighter jet like he does and as the gunner and the best marksman among the crew, he was intimidating. But he gave himself to you and you did the same.

“Always.”

This was what he missed. The intimacy that he shared with you. That sweet loving gaze—

Mingi felt a sudden shock of heat pass through him. In less than two seconds your loving gaze intensified to desire and your lips were wrapped around his thumb, enveloping his digit in your mouth. The cherry on top for him was how you swirled your hot tongue and sucked lightly. You pulled back with a cute little quiet pop and looked at him with eyes that were far too innocent after what you just did. Licking his lips, he gripped your face, gently but strong enough the way you liked and to establish dominance.

This was also something he missed.

“If my pretty girl wants to be naughty…” he leaned in closer, the cute challenging look in your eyes unwavering. “I’m going to have to remind her how to behave.”

“But I am a good girl.” You shrugged him off of you so that you could press your lips on his defined jaw. “I told you, I never let anyone touch me.”

“You let Wooyoung touch you.” His hands rested on your hips now as you left gentle kisses along the skin of his neck, appeasing to him.

“So? It’s not like I’ll let him fuck me.” You nipped at his neck, tone sweet and unfortunately too bratty.

Next thing you knew, his ringed hand wrapped around your throat. It wasn’t in anyway to hurt you, Mingi would never. No. It’s how you two played sometimes. His hold on you made heat stir in your lower abdomen and his intense gaze was getting you excited.

“Of course you won’t.” He spoke, voice deep and low, and with his other hand on your hip, he guided you to drag your clothed cunt over the bulge of his trousers. Seeing your determined gaze crack with the friction, he grinned. “You won’t let him fuck you. You know why?”

You shook your head, biting your lip to hold back your whimpers, a little embarrassed that your resolve was so quick to crumble because of him but you knew that turned him on.

“Use your words, baby.” He squeezed your neck gently while his other hand stilled your hips, making you huff at the pause.

“I-I don’t know.” You couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your hips yourself, mouth watering at the thought of his member hidden beneath his pants.

Mingi tapped your hip in warning. You stilled and you did your best to glare at him. “Why?”

“He hasn’t earned it, baby.” His hand left your neck, trailing down to briefly brush the dip between your collarbones and he leaned to kiss your chest. “He hasn’t earned it like we had.”

“Is that why you were gatekeeping me?”

“Maybe.” You felt him grin on your skin as he kissed what was exposed of your breasts in your bralette. “Get up.”

You almost whined, not wanting to leave his lap or his kisses to stop but you did so anyway.

It’s like you were back to square one, standing between his legs while he gazed at you except you couldn’t stop glancing at the bulge in his trousers.

He clicked his tongue. “Is that what you want, baby?”

Instead of answering him, which could get you into some fun trouble, you slowly got on your knees without breaking his gaze. You slid your hands up his muscular thick thighs, knowing to not touch where you wanted to touch him the most.

Mingi noticed this and smiled. “Good girl.” He cooed, tucking the strands of your pink wig behind your ear. “You remember. Go on then.”

Getting his permission, your fingers made quick work of his belt and zipper, prying the fabric apart to reveal his erection in the confines of his briefs. You skimmed your fingers along the waistband, admiring his toned abdomen before tugging it low enough til his cock sprung free.

Without wasting another moment, you wrapped your hand around his length, feeling your walls pulse around nothing at how hot and heavy he was in your hand. His tip was pink and growing slick with precum. You licked your lips at the sight and you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore.

Mingi groaned lowly when you slowly pumped his length, kissing the hot and pink tip before enveloping the head of his cock in your mouth.

“Fuck.” He hissed. The sight of your glossed lips wrapped around him and the sensation of your wet tongue swirling his tip was sinfully perfect. “You look so pretty right now, baby.”

Oh how you loved how deep his voice was when he talked dirty. “God, I’m so lucky I get to fuck you first.”

He threw his head back as you took him deeper in your mouth, your struggle to take more of him something he always found so cute.

As much as you loved to blow your boyfriend, he was always a challenge to take. He was thicker than and longer than your other lovers. Well, Yunho was also a challenge but you were focused on Mingi right now and he was another story.

Your brows were knitted and your eyes were looking at him pleadingly as you did your best to bob your head along his length, sucking and swirling your tongue the way he liked while using your hand to pump what you couldn’t take of him. His taste and his low moans were making you ache even more, god you couldn’t wait for him to touch you.

“Shit, baby. You’re doing so well taking me in that pretty little mouth.” He praised, petting the top of your head lovingly. “C’mon baby. The quicker you make me cum the sooner I’ll be touching you. You’re getting wet aren’t you?”

Batting your lashes at him, you did your best to tell him yes while hollowing your cheeks and taking him a little more deeper, lost in his taste and his heat and fighting against your gag reflex. Your body was buzzing with need and when his tip reached the back of your throat, Mingi let out the prettiest moan.

The curse of silence that fell upon his room for months since you left was finally broken. Within the four walls, the not so quiet sound of your muffled moans and the obscene wet slurping of you sucking his cock bounced off them. You were taking your time, enjoying each glide of him against your flattened tongue and pumping the rest of his length in tandem with your movement.

Mingi through heavy lidded eyes searched for your gaze and he didn’t know if he regretted doing so because seeing your pretty eyes look up at him as you bobbed your head and suckled at his sensitive tip, he could’ve cum right then and there.

Lost in the sinfully indulgent pleasure, Mingi hadn’t noticed that his door was open just a crack, not fully closed. Even if he did notice, he wouldn’t care since it wouldn’t be the first time. Plus the rest of the crew weren’t strangers to being caught in the act with you. Most of the time they ignore it or tease each other about it after. And sometimes, it led to some…extra fun. But the man who recently settled into the room beside Mingi didn’t know that.

He was just on his way back from the showers since only two rooms had their own bathroom which was Hongjoong’s and Seonghwa’s.

He didn’t mean to look. He was just supposed to take his cold shower and then head to bed.

The sounds lured him in. And with his pent up sexual frustration he had only wanted to shut the stupid door fully and scold Mingi tomorrow about it…but when he saw the shade of pink that was haunting him, he just couldn’t function. Not when your head was bobbing up and down between Mingi’s spread thighs and how your back and ass looked so sexy while you were at it.

Wooyoung gulped, his own cock stirring at the lewd sight. He really should go.

And yet he continued to gawk at you, taking in the curve of your waist and the aesthetically pleasing view of your back. As if it couldn’t get any worse for Wooyoung, he noticed your free hand was between your thighs. Somehow in that dimly lit room he could see how you were working your fingers below you.

You moaned around Mingi’s length, the vibrations earning you a deep groan.

‘Fuck.’ Wooyoung swore over and over in his head, eyes unable to break from the way you were touching yourself. He wondered how wet you were. If your arousal soaked through the cotton of your underwear and if your fingers were easily gliding over your swollen clit.

Mingi, despite the dizziness of pleasure muddling his brain, finally noticed your hand between your thighs. “You getting wet by just sucking my cock, baby?”

Your lips released him with a pop and you were softly panting, trying to catch your breath. You nodded in response going at it again and this time, you were only using your mouth now and taking him deeper. Your hand other hand left your aching cunt only to rest atop his left thigh like your other hand on his right to keep you steady.

“Shit!” Mingi cursed, his hand coming to the back of your head to guide you down further, feeling the pressure on the base of his spine as he watched you take whatever you could fit of him in your little mouth.

Wooyoung bit his lip to keep himself from making any noise but he could still feel his throat dry at the obscene sight. The sound of your muffled whines and moans was driving him crazy.

Mingi’s fingers tangled themselves in your pink wig, his hips bucking until he stilled, cock twitching in your mouth. Hot spurts of his release spilled down your throat, your eyes not breaking away from his face that was contorted in pure bliss.

“Oh, fuck, baby.” He whined.

Only his tip in your mouth, he felt you swallow his release. “Good fucking girl.” His grip on your wig loosened to pet you. You hummed at his words, batting your lashes up at him in the way that made his heart flutter before you released him from your mouth. “Open up, let me see.”

Mingi was down bad. Really bad.

He reached into his pocket to whip out his phone, swiping the screen to the camera app. With pink lip gloss smudged at the corners of your mouth, your wig a little messy and his perspective with you on your knees, gave the camera the perfect view of your cute face, your tits in your purple bralette and his inner thighs that framed you.

You parted your lips and stuck out your tongue a little, and Mingi bit his lip when he saw a little bit of his cum remained on your tongue.

“Fuck, you look so hot, baby.” He captured a couple of shots while you decided to extend his high and to also give him a couple more pics to take.

Giving him a cute smile, you kissed the head of his sensitive cock and heard the little digital tone of the record button in his cell. He hissed at the stimulation and yet he let you continue to ride out his orgasm, his thighs tensing then relaxing a bit as you licked along his length.

Mingi was going to use this for the next time you’re away which won’t be anytime soon but you know, just in case and also for bragging rights for getting to fuck you in your stripper costume.

“Will you return the favor, Min?” You asked him, your voice husky from taking his cock deep in your throat. “I showed you how good I am for you.”

He couldn’t help but grin at your cute tone. You knew he was going to show this to the others to make them jealous so you were putting on a show exclusively for Mingi that the others won’t be able to have.

“Tell me exactly what favor I have to return to my good girl. Hm?” He knew how shy you actually were when speaking about what you wanted in a little more detail and it was something that all of them found endearing. Even though you could be bold, when it came down to things in the bedroom, you were submissive. You were bratty which was in your nature most of the time and Mingi like three other members of the crew loved to tame and fuck the brat out of you.

With your head muddled with lust, you softly uttered out your response, unaware of how needy you sounded.

“I want you to taste me too.”

Wooyoung palmed himself through his sweats. He wanted to taste you. He’s been wanting to and thinking about it since he danced with you.

“Yeah? And then I’ll fuck your pretty little pussy. You want that?”

You nodded, suckling at his length.

“Take off your top, baby. Show them what they’re missing out on right now.”

Without anymore direction, you knew what to do. You slowly got up, his hand holding his phone following your movement and he captured the complete look one last time.

Your fingers pinched at the front clasps of your bra, Mingi’s eyes glued on you, watching you intently.

You unhooked it and without rushing, unveiled to him and the camera your bare breasts. From where Wooyoung stood, he couldn’t see the teasing reveal. It was frustrating. Especially when you slowly let the pretty bralette drop into a pile at your feet and he could only see your naked back.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

Not wanting to get caught, he quietly retreated back into his room, shut the door and locked it. With his back against the cool surface, he freed his cock from his sweats and wrapped a hand around his length, cursing Mingi in his head for being so lucky. With each stroke, the man was forgotten and his head was filled with thoughts of you. He tightened his grip when he began to imagine himself in Mingi’s place.

Was he going to feel guilty about it later? Yes but fuck did he needed to jack off. He’ll regret it later.

…

You gripped the pillow beneath your head while the other was over your hand trying to muffle your voice as moans left you so embarrassingly easy. Mingi had one hand holding his phone your way while the other was splayed on your belly as his thumb massaged your clit and he thrusted into your tight heat.

Your panties were just pushed to the side while he stuffed you full with his thick length. He had slipped in so easily with how wet you were and you were creaming around his cock, the mess of it all and the obscene wet squelching making him fuck you harder.

“Mingi,” you panted, your core hot with pleasure and mind spinning from the delicious drag of his cock against your pulsing walls. “B-big. You’re so big.” You whined out, the pleasure close to making you cry.

“Yeah? But you can take me right? Look at you taking me so well. Fuck.”

You nodded at his words, unable to form anything coherent and not caring about the fact he was filming the mess you were making on his cock.

His praises only made your head spin further and when he tossed his phone to the side and was focused on fucking you, the tension in your lower belly grew tighter.

Mingi admired the way you looked before him, tits bouncing with each snap of his hips and your legs around him while the garter where money bills had been clipped to earlier remained on your thigh and the gorgeous, perfect sight of your pussy lips parted to accommodate his cock that stretched you out. All of that was consuming him. He missed how you felt, how smooth and warm your skin was, and how his name left your lips in moans and sweet sighs.

The wet smacking of his hips against yours and both of yours and his moans filled the room, and unfortunately for Wooyoung, he could hear you both despite it being muffled. Well he could hear because he had opened his door a little and the two of you were too preoccupied to take note of how Mingi’s door wasn’t shut fully. He was fucking his cock into his fist to the sound of you both.

Your arms reached out for Mingi and his heart melted at the sight. He leaned forward letting them wrap around him and your legs did the same with his hips. He crashed his plump lips against yours, swallowing your moans and cries, feeling your walls tighten further around him telling him you were close. He was close too.

He felt your nails dig into the muscles of his back and he groaned at the sweet pain, his hand between the two of you applying more pressure to your clit which pushed you to the edge. Walls tightening around him which hindered his fast thrusts, he let you feel your orgasm and god, did he love it when you came around him. Your velvety walls spasmed around his cock and he could feel it, and your thighs shook from the sudden wave of release.

“That’s my good girl. That’s it. Cum around my cock. Good girl.” He rasped against your ear before kissing your neck and slowly beginning to move his hips again.

“M-Min— wait,” you whimpered, sensitive and body electric.

“I’m close baby. You’ll let me finish too right? Inside?”

The idea made you moan softly and cave. “O-okay.” You managed to get out, the overstimulation so good and too much at the same time.

You gasped when he sped up, chasing his release. He was groaning and panting against your neck like a dog in heat. Your fingers threaded through his hair, gripping the short strands as you felt your second orgasm building up again.

“I love you.” He murmured against your neck, rutting into you. You held him closer. “I love you. I love you. I love you…”He chanted over and over, completely loss in you. You missed those words from him and you weren’t sure if you were tearing up from the pleasure or how much you loved him too. Maybe both.

“I love you too Mingi.” You managed to say as your body bounced with each thrust and you gripped his hair tighter, the heels of your feet digging into lower back.

“Fuck!” Mingi snapped his hips one last time before completely stilling, shooting his hot cum into your womb. The sensation of him filling you up made you cum again so quickly and Mingi hissed at the sinful feeling of your walls fluttering around him again, milking his cock for all he’s worth, and what couldn’t fit in your womb began to leak out of you.

“I love you,” he sighed again, lifting his head from your neck to press his lips on yours messily and you kiss him back, both of you coming down from your highs. “Never leave me again, please.”

That tugged at your heart strongly.

Many believed it was San who was the clingiest among all them but in truth, it was Mingi. It didn’t look like it with his tough, bad boy coded exterior and how brutal he could be when he was armed but it was him who you trusted and opened up to first when you joined them.

“Even if you can’t, just say you will.”

And then your heart was ripped out your chest and in his hands.

“I won’t leave,” you told him, kissing his lips and cupping his face in your hands. “I promise.”

“This was the longest you were away.”

“I know…I’m sorry but I’m here now. I won’t be going anywhere. Okay?”

He nodded, sliding his hands under you, cradling your back so he could move the both of you to a comfortable position. Without untangling from each other’s embrace, he lied on his back with you on top him, your chest pressed against his and his arms wrapped around you.

In the room next to Mingi’s, Wooyoung’s head was thrown back as he came down from his own high. His release dripped down his hand and stained the fabric of his shirt.

While the two lovers on the other side laid in each others loving embrace, he was all alone on the floor with his back against the foot of his bed after having imagined fucking you and wishing his cum was on your body instead.

“Shit…” he cursed to himself , realizing what he had just done.

The guilt was gonna eat him up after and he may not be able to look you or Mingi in the eyes tomorrow after what he did.

Did he still want to fuck you? Yes. But he’ll keep that fact to himself and only himself. No one needed to know. It’ll pass anyways. Maybe a couple more times jerking off to you will make him get over it.

Yunho stretched his back on the way back to the crews deck, Seonghwa and Hongjoong were looking over the data you had gotten for them and he had just finished some touches to his and Wooyoung’s weapon reparations for Mingi.

Before heading to his room, he decided to check on the said man who had always come back with his, Jongho’s and Wooyoung’s weapons damaged every single time he was sent on the field.

“Fuck,” he heard Mingi’s faint voice at the start of the corridor.

He sighed as he removed his gloves, heading to Mingi’s room, his brow rising as he saw the door slightly open. He glanced at Wooyoung’s closed door and shook his head a little before stepping inside Mingi’s room and finally closing the door behind him.

He leaned against metal, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Mingi naked in all his glory fuck into you from behind. Your moans and whimpers were muffled as you bit at the pillow. Mingi’s hands were on your hips and his hold on you was the only reason your ass was still up. Your thighs were shaking and trembling with each thrust as the new angle made you feel him deeper inside of you.

Yunho bit his lip watching the two of you and glanced over at Mingi’s desk where his blazer was then at the mirror where he could see you face down and ass up with a your back beautifully curved as Mingi fucked you.

He began to unbutton his shirt.

“Next time, make sure you close the door properly. I could hear you from the corridor.” Yunho finally spoke but his presence didn’t stop Mingi’s rhythmic thrusts.

“It wasn’t closed?” He grunted, a hand pressing against your upper back to keep you down.

“It wasn’t wide open but if I was Wooyoung, I would be suffering.” Yunho threw his gloves onto the desk. “Hi, sweetheart.” He went to your side, sitting on the edge of the bed and speaking as if you weren’t being railed from behind.

He caressed the crown of your head, noticing the mascara smudged around your eyes in a pretty way. Yunho also noticed Mingi’s cell nearby on the bed and rolled his eyes, knowing exactly why it was there.

He’ll ask Mingi for a copy later.

“How many times has he made you cum?” He asked you, thumb wiping away the smudged makeup.

“Ah—f-fo—,” you gasped, clutching the pillow tigther . “Four.” It was cute how you couldn’t really speak properly.

“Four times ?” Yunho was impressed, you nodded quickly. “How many times has he said I love you?”

“Shut up, man.” Mingi huffed, knowing he was going to get teased for that.

Yunho raised his hands in surrender, he wasn’t here for that anyways.

He looked at Mingi. The marksman’s brows were knitted together and he was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and below where you two were connected was a darkened spot on the sheets. A mess caused by both yours and Mingi’s release, well mostly Mingi’s as your pussy was leaking white from being filled to the brim.

“I know you wanted her for yourself tonight but…” Yunho slipped his hand into yours, and you held his hand tight as you moaned into the pillow.

“Got room for one more?”

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR OTHERWISE REPURPOSE ANY OF MY WORK HERE. I DO NOT NOR WILL ALLOW IT.

taglist : @endeav0rsb1tch @eastleighsblog @scarfac3 @deadgirlwalking3 @ddaeing @lexiigom @lesyeuxdeanna @ja3hwa @prettyjewel93 @dear-dreamie @ashrocker123 @kookibuns @i2hyun0 @kpopismyescape23 @alex-tinyy @hyukssunflower @honeypaintedskies @peachyproductions @dawn-iscozy @waitingtillthesmilescomeback

Thank you for reading! Make sure to like and reblog hehe 💕

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phantomwithbreakfast · 23 days ago

Text

FORBIDDEN LOVE

DP Phanfic story.

Oh well.

Here’s a teaser from chapter 07 - Actions and Reactions

(You can read the whole chapter or the whole story on FanFiction.net—not finished yet—currently working on chapter 08)

———————

Teaser loading…

Summary:

Pitch Pearl (coming soon into the story — so that’s a spoiler I guess).

Trigger Warning {Bullying and Harassment — Violence — Emotional Distress — Strong Language}

I rated it as T, but I think maybe it has to be M, I don’t know.

—

Danny’s heart sank, his fingers trembling as he tapped on Tucker’s message, revealing the link. Dread pooled in his stomach, coiling tighter with every second. Another picture. Another post. His chest felt heavy as the image loaded, and there it was—the photo Mikey had snapped of him in class earlier this week.

In the photo he was smiling, cheeks flushed, clearly blushing while looking at his phone. The caption beneath it read:

 Mikey’s post:

 “Definitely dating Phantom ;)”

 The floor seemed to drop out from under Danny as he stared at the picture. His heart pounded in his chest, the rush of anger mixing with heavy embarrassment. How could things get worse? How could Mikey do this just for attention?

 Danny clenched his phone so hard it nearly slipped out of his grip. Clout. Mikey did this for clout, for likes, for the attention of being the guy who ’exposed’ Danny. He wasn’t even sure if Mikey believed any of it, but that didn’t matter. The damage was done. The post was already gaining traction, with comments popping up beneath it like wildfire.

 Danny’s blood boiled. His vision blurred with frustration, his body tensing as his mind raced. He could feel his ghost core stirring inside him, reacting to the emotional storm building in his chest. This wasn’t just embarrassing—it was humiliating. He wanted to scream. He wanted to disappear. Most of all, he wanted to stop Mikey from making everything worse.

 He glanced at the comments below, his hands trembling.

 FootballKing01: “Knew it! Fentgay’s been hiding this the whole time. #PhantomDating #Exposed”

 CreepyMcCreepFace: “OMG I knew he had a secret life! What a freak!”

 PhantomFanboyKW: “No surprise here. Fenton’s a loser either way.”

 WestonWS: "No, it can't be! I'm telling you, Fenton is Phantom!"

 Danny’s stomach turned, the heat rising in his face. His heart raced as the rage built up inside him. How dare Mikey post this without permission? How dare he mock Danny like that for a few likes? Didn’t he know what this could do to him? Didn’t he know how dangerous this was? The connection between him and Phantom was getting closer to being exposed with each post like this. He felt the familiar icy cold pulse of his ghost core reacting to his emotions, but he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay calm. He couldn’t let Phantom take over, not here, not like this. But he was tired—tired of being picked on, tired of having his privacy violated.

 Danny threw his phone down onto the bed, sitting up in frustration. His fists clenched at his sides as the anger bubbled over. How was he going to fix this? How could he possibly stop this spiral?

———————

Made in ProCreate. Drawings + GIF

DP copyright/rights, belongs to Nickelodeon.

So. If I don’t draw Danny like… angry, he looks so… weird. 😭

I draw scenes to get a vision of the situation. (Duh)

And if I may be honest, this specific story I’m writing hits me very personal. Just trying to get over my PTSD here! (the bullying parts)! So it’s kind of therapy I guess.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #danny phantom fanart #dp fanart #fanfic #phandom #pitch pearl #digital drawing #procreate #story #digital art #digital illustration

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lovecla · 1 month ago

Text

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

epilogue:

➴ chapter warnings: mentions of abortion.

➴ word count: 2.9k

💌 from me to you: writing endings suck by the way. hope u enjoy tho :)

౨ৎ

madisonhughes

liked by haileybieber, gigihadid, nickharris_img and 789,101 others

madisonhughes one year ago i married my best friend. i love u _quinnhughes 🤍

View all 1,398 comments

user1 i still remember the fuss we made the day she changed her username to hughes 😭

user2 user1 no bc u just had to be there 😭 everyone freaking out and people asking if her wedding had been live-streamed

user3 user1 user2 omg and people trying to cancel her for changing her last name?? i was on twitter fighting for my life

user4 user3 AND THE DAY AFTER QUINN POSTED A PICTURE OF HER WEARING HIS JERSEY DURING THEIR HONEYMOON LMFAO

_quinnhughes Pretty sure i love you more

nickharris_img my favorite couple. Miss you Mads

user6 the day i had to change my @ bc i couldn’t be quinnybear43wife anymore 💔

haileybieber it was magical 🥹

canucks One year already? 😱

jackhughes best night of my life… got drunk after 3 minutes

౨ৎ

2034, OCTOBER.

YOU HAD just turned the cell phone off when you heard Lila’s first scream.

Out of your instinct, you quickly walked towards her bedroom, knowing that she would be there with Quinn, since there was where you left both of them before you answered Jim’s call, asking about what time you were planning on going to their house, where they’d hold a Halloween welcoming party, since you and Quinn had just bought them a house in Vancouver.

Ever since your daughter, Lila, was born, three years ago, they’d been traveling to Vancouver every other week, and even though they told you several times that they didn’t mind all the flying and the hotels, you and Quinn both decided that it’d be best for them to at least have a private place to stay whenever they wanted to visit their granddaughter.

And Lila, the always calm, adorable baby, had been laughing with Quinn before you left the room, so her crying now was worrying to say the least. As you got closer to her bedroom, the crying got louder and louder, and you were pretty much sure neither Quinn nor Lila heard you entering the room.

“Tell Daddy what’s wrong, baby,” Quinn’s sitting on the floor, his hands wiping Lila’s tears, uselessly. “I’ll fix it, I promise,”

“No princess!” She yells back at him, throwing the yellow Belle dress you bought for her last week, making you frown as you lean against the door, choosing to let Quinn deal with her before you stepped in.

Bella stares at her, hiding her nose between her paws, which distracts you momentarily.

“Lila, baby. What did we say about yelling?” He asks softly, blue eyes searching for Lila’s. “There’s no need to yell. Daddy just wants to understand why you’re so upset since you wanted to be Belle so bad. What happened?”

Somehow, his question only seems to upset her even more. “No want. Belle.”

He chuckles, moving her chestnut hair out of her cherubic face.

“I can see that. And I want to know why. Do you remember how Mommy is always telling you that we need to explain why we’re upset? She’s right, baby.”

“Mhm,” she nods her head, scratching her eye with her left hand. “Mommy’s right.”

“Mommy is always right, isn’t she?” Quinn jokes, making you smile.

You decide that it’s the right time for you to step in, since Quinn already calmed Lila down and you wouldn’t get in his way of teaching her manners.

Walking until you were in the middle of the room, you smiled at them before you sat down on the carpet, beside Quinn.

“Is everything okay here?” You softly ask, giving Lila a brief kiss on her cheek, before doing the same with Quinn, making him smile right back at you.

“Lila’s upset about her costume,” Quinn explains. “She doesn’t want to be Belle.”

“No Belle!” She says loudly again, stomping her little feet. You had to use all of your strength to not coo at her cuteness.

“Okay, baby. We understand, you don't want to be Belle. Want to tell mommy and daddy why is that?”

Lila sighs loudly, her face still red from all the crying, proceeding to point at Quinn.

“Daddy.”

“Yes, baby, that’s daddy,” you chuckle. “What about daddy?”

“Wanna be d-daddy.” She stutters, hiccuping right after.

You and Quinn stare at each other, confused, before realization hits you both.

“She wants to be you for Halloween,” you whisper to him, watching as his eyes immediately fill up with tears, just like yours.

It was one of the most precious moments of your life. After years of going to therapy and working on yourself, and after you and Quinn married each other, you finally understood that you could have a loving family. Something to call yours. And when you found out you were pregnant, it was terrifying, because all you could think of is that you were going to be just like your mother.

You still remember that day as if it had been yesterday, and not three years ago. It was winter, late night, and you knew Quinn wouldn’t get home from his away game until the morning after.

Bella looked at you with a stressed expression on her face, putting her paw on your thigh, as you were sitting on the toilet’s lid and staring at the plastic thing on your other thigh.

Positive, it read. And it couldn’t be, not with you.

You and Quinn had a decent amount of sex, but even though you ditched the condom a long time ago, you still took your birth control pills religiously, you hadn’t been sloppy.

And now, after two weeks of constant headaches, nauseous and sore boobs, you decided to listen to your heart and buy a couple of tests. Despite doing all of that, you didn’t expect them to turn out to be positive.

It was scary as hell. You pondered calling Emma, your therapist, but then you checked the time on your phone and it was already three a.m. Besides, you felt bad for telling her first, and not Quinn or Victoria even.

What the hell am I going to do?, you keep asking yourself. You knew that Quinn wanted to have kids, but what about those couples who fall out of love when they have kids? Or those people who start complaining about children all the time?

Or what if I turn out to be just like my mom, the hidden, dark part of you asks, and the thought sends you into a spiral. What if I turn out just like my mom?!

You rest your head between your hands, letting the first tears roll down your face, freely. For the first time ever you were happy that Quinn wasn’t around you because you don’t even know what you would tell him.

Bella continues to whimper beside you and even though you want to tell her you’re fine, you couldn’t. Because you weren’t.

“Sweets? What’s wrong?”

Quinn’s voice scares you so hard you get up from the lid, gasping as the test falls from your thigh, hitting the carpet underneath your feet with the softest thud.

“Quinn?” You ask, trying to wipe your tears as fastest as you could. “What are you doing here? You said you’d be back tomorrow.”

“We left the arena earlier but—” he steps closer, his hands finding your waist immediately. “What happened, baby? Are you hurt? Do we need to visit the hospital? What’s going on?”

His soothing voice only made you cry more, because you could totally picture him talking like this with a little baby, your baby. Quinn would be the most perfect father ever, and you had always known it.

He puts your head in the space between his neck and shoulder, rocking you gently as he often did whenever you had a meltdown— rare moments that happen from time to time, always with him by your side to take care of you.

He didn’t force you to speak, he never did. He respected your time, and even when sometimes you only wanted to talk about the things upsetting you days later, he’d respect your wishes. And you love him so much for that.

“I’m pregnant,” you say, the words coming out muffled since your mouth was hidden.

Quinn freezes for a second, pulling you just the slightest bit away, his blue eyes searching for something inside of yours. Whatever he found, it only made him frown.

“I think I misheard what you said. Can you repeat, baby?”

“I’m pregnant,” You finally say, feeling the tears that had stopped for a minute coming back with more strength. “I’m sorry.”

His frown deepens. “What are you sorry for, baby? Don’t say that.”

“I swear I took all of my pills,” you choke on your tears, shaking your head. “I did everything right but—”

“Maddie, look at me,” Quinn grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. “This isn’t your fault, sweets, there’s no such thing as saying sorry because you’re pregnant. The moment we decided to have sex without a condom we knew this could happen. It’s fine, baby, we will work it out. It’s my responsibility too.”

“I know you don’t want this now,” you whisper. “I know the timing is bad. That’s what I’m sorry for.”

Quinn kisses your cheek before intertwining his hand with yours and getting you both out of the bathroom, with Bella following behind you. He took you to the kitchen, sitting you on one of the stools and filling up the baby blue kettle that sat on the counter with water. While he waited, he turned around and walked back at you, kissing your head.

“In what world do you live in, baby?” He chuckles. “Of course I want a baby with you, Maddie. You’re the love of my life.”

Your heart jumped inside your chest, the tiniest hint of a smile appearing on your face.

“I’m just— you’re in the middle of the season. I have work too. And—what are we going to do, if we decide to k-keep it?”

“I think it’s too soon for you to decide anything, mhm? I’m not an expert, but I know we have some time before deciding what you want to do. Either way, I’ll be holding your hand the entire time.” He smiles at you again, booping your nose, like he often did.

The kettle beeps, and Quinn runs straight to it, turning it off and pouring the water in your favorite mug, where he had already put a chamomile tea bag inside of it.

He also poured a little bit of cold water, just to get the tea’s temperature perfect for you to drink.

“No sugar for you, because you’re already sweet enough.”

You laugh between your tears. “Will you someday stop talking about the fact that I don’t like to drink tea with sugar?”

“I don’t think so, baby, but I’ll try.” He winks, the mood lighter.

You drank your tea with Quinn by your side, talking about his game and how things went. He knew you liked when he talked about his work, so the fact that he started doing it without you asking meant a lot to you.

As he talked, you tried to organize your thoughts inside your head. Which hadn’t been easy.

“I don’t wanna be like her.” You whisper, and Quinn smiles sadly at you, shaking his head.

You haven’t spoken with your family in years. You’d yearly text them on their birthdays, but you’d always block them right after, not wanting them to reach you. It was just still hard for you to understand how your own family didn’t want anything to do with you, so you kept doing that, just for your peace of mind.

It wasn’t like you missed having them in your life, because you reached a point where all the memories you had of them were bad. And when you married Quinn, and added his last name to yours? It was like your mom finally reached her breaking point and unleashed all of her disgust for you in one go, during a very harsh phone call, where Quinn had to intervene and turn it off. “It will be the last time you’ll speak to my wife like this, do you hear me? I don’t care who you are or what you do. This is the last time, Jessica.”

And it had been the last time indeed.

“You won’t ever be like her, baby.”

“You don’t know that,” you frown. “I’ve heard people talking before, y’know? I remember how they’d say my mom was different before I was born. And sometimes Peter would talk about it too. She might’ve not loved my dad, but she was happy before me. Will I be the same if we keep the baby?”

Quinn holds your hand and caresses it with his thumb. “You already know the answer to that, Maddie. You’re nothing like her, and you never will be,” he kisses your lips. “Besides, why are you so worried about being a mom? Aren’t you one already?”

You laugh, looking at Bella slaughter her tennis ball on the couch.

“I guess you’re right.”

Lila frowns at Quinn’s tears, looking at you for help, because she had never seen her Daddy cry before.

“Why daddy cry?” she asks, before taking little steps and stopping in front of him, little hands wiping his face. “Don’t cry, daddy.”

“These are tears of joy, babygirl,” he laughs, hugging her tiny body, their beautiful curls touching each other. “Of course you can be daddy, baby. In fact, we’ll both be daddy.”

Lila’s giggle fills up the entire room, and she runs around, happily.

“Be careful, love,” you tell her, resting your head on Quinn’s shoulders, watching as Lila sits on top of Bella, making her growl loudly. “We have to get going, though, baby. Grandpa is waiting for you with Grandma.”

“U-uncle Luke?” she asks, making you laugh and Quinn sigh.

“What’s up with that unhealthy obsession of hers with Luke?”

“It’s probably the curls,” you joke, teasing him. “And the smile.”

“I have curls and a beautiful smile too, Madison, I’m not following.” He furrowed his eyebrows, and you giggled at his jealous face.

“We have to get ready, come on,” you tell him, before getting up and searching for Lila’s jersey with Quinn’s name and number on it, while Quinn looked for his.

“Why aren’t you wearing a costume, Maddie? Lila, your mommy’s boring.” Jack rolls his eyes at you, his arms reaching out for Lila as soon as he opens the door. “And look at you, huh? Are you supposed to be Quinn?”

“Mommy’s not— boring. And I wanna be daddy.” Lila wraps her hand around Jack’s neck, holding him close. “Uncle Luke?”

“I’m here, princess,” Luke says, standing behind Jack and smiling at Lila, who makes grabby hands and jumps to his arms right away, making both Quinn and Jack pout. You laughed behind your hands.

Thankfully, Lila managed to distract everyone from the fact that you were the only person not wearing a costume. For your surprise to work, it wouldn’t make sense for you to wear anything. Earlier, you had told Quinn that you hadn’t had time to buy anything, which had been a straight up lie. But he didn’t question you anyway, just told you that next time you could ask him to buy it for you.

Jim and Ellen’s house was packed with people, some of the family’s friends and cousins, all dressed up and cheerful. You spent the entire evening making sure that everything was perfect for your surprise, while Quinn took care of Lila— or tried to take care of her, since your little girl hadn’t left her uncle’s arms yet.

“Okay, so, everyone,” you start, watching as Quinn’s family sits on the gigantic table in the backyard, with Lila sitting on Luke’s lap and Quinn beside Ellen and one of his cousins. “Last thing we’re doing before dinner is the pumpkin carving contest. The prettiest one will win.”

“Who will be the judge?” Jack asks.

“Me.” You grin at him, hearing his complaints.

Thankfully, everyone was very competitive, and seemed to be enjoying the little game. You eyed Quinn surreptitiously, trying your hardest not to catch his attention before he found your surprise, which happened ten minutes later, after he opened the pumpkin in front of him, suddenly interrupting his talk with his cousin.

You watched as he read the little card you left for him inside the orange fruit, his blue eyes immediately finding yours.

“Why is it so hot in here?” you say to no one, removing your hoodie and placing it on the chair beside where you were standing, stretching your shirt that read Growing Our Little Pumpkin, the cheesy line written with a funny calligraphy.

“Madison.”

Somehow, Quinn’s serious tone reached everyone’s ears, and now all of them, minus Lila who was very entertained with writing on Luke’s pumpkin, were staring at you and, well, your shirt.

You found out that you were expecting again two weeks ago, deciding not to tell Quinn immediately, this time not out of fear but out of want for doing something special, and since Ellen had already arranged this costume party, you thought this would be the perfect moment.

“Oh my God!” Ellen shouts beside Quinn, her smile brighter than the moon decorating the sky. “Oh my God!”

Quinn gets up so fast you barely have time to breathe before his arms are wrapped around your body, squeezing you tightly.

“Baby, are you serious? Is this a joke?” he asks, voice quivering a little.

“No,” you laugh. “I’m pregnant, love.”

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he glues his lips to yours, and even though you can hear his family’s cheers for you and Lila laughing somewhere, nothing else matters, except for how Quinn holds you.

And if you stop to think for a moment, nothing has ever mattered more than your love for him in your life. You weren’t exactly sure if that was healthy or not, but after caring about the wrong people for so long, you were happy to finally have found something that was yours to keep. Quinn, Lila, the baby growing inside you, his parents and brothers— they were part of you now, and would always be.

Loving Quinn was the best decision of your entire life.

And now you were the person who’d get to keep him for life.

౨ৎ

madisonhughes

liked by kyliejenner, lhughes_06, trevorzegras and 1,082,001 others

madisonhughes past few days :)

View all 2,013 comments

user1 HELLO??? SHE’S PREGNANT AGAIN!????

maddiehughes_updates SHE’S PREGNANT

lhughes_06 missing lila :,(

adrianalima Omg congrats!!!! 🥹

canucks Baby Hughes no 2 💙

vic_alonso can we name the baby victoria if it’s a girl and victorio if it’s a boy

madisonhughes vic_alonso no.

jackhughes madisonhughes vic_alonso don’t be silly. Jack if it’s a boy, Jackie if it’s a girl.

_quinnhughes jackhughes 🤦

nickharris_img i love u 😗😗

user2 Lila will be a big sister 😭😭😭

user3 I will kms right now so I can reincarnate as your kid

| THROUGH THE YEARS |

taglist: @hischierswhore @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @he6rtshaker @nope-i-am-done @nngkay @urthem00n 🤎

#quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #captain quinn #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes angst #quinn hughes x model!fmc #quinn hughes x fem!reader #quinn hughes x oc #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #nhl fic #TYPA

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sadesluvr · 1 month ago

Text

The Bride — PART THREE.

PART ONE / PART TWO

A/N: This is so late omg...September was a busy month for me but I promised I wouldn't forget y'all! Sorry for any mistakes <3

Warnings: Smut + Murder. This chapter contains the theme of domestic violence and victim guilt. Please leave a relationship if your partner hits you, it's not okay and will likely escalate to full blown abuse. Skip to the paragraph beginning "All it took was..." if you'd like to avoid this.

Word count: 3.4K

“Jude’s family have a boat. Every morning on his birthday, he takes it out for a drive – early morning when the water’s calmest. No one should be there but him. The bay is a ten-minute drive from here. I’m thinking that I surprise him, get him to drive me a few miles from the shore, then I knock him out with one of those fishing weights.”

“What if you can’t hit hard enough?”

“Then you’re gonna have to teach me how to shoot.”

You’d gone to the dock separately; with the Twins clambering into their rented car whilst you jumped into a discreet bicitaxi, squashed next to a random stranger on a rickety bike. The colourful streets became a blur as you passed them, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were on a horrible, stomach-churning ride, ultimately screaming to yourself to get off. You were scared that it was all going to be over, all so suddenly and unexpectedly on a random trip to Havana. What was life going to be like without Jude? Why had you decided to trust two random British guys to help take care of your domestic dispute?

What if everything backfired?

You didn’t feel any better stepping off the bike and onto the brown boards of the bay, eyeing the familiar licence plate of the rows of white yachts, tourist boats, and fishermen, making the occasional glance down at the deep blue waters below. Rippling; uneasy...the literal unknown.

Other than a few locals fishing, it was rather quiet. At least until you heard the Twins’ hurried footsteps; with Tangerine’s dress shoes clicking against the ground. Even though they were slated to be ‘professionals’, the moustached man seemed eerily panicked; finding it difficult to walk straight as he constantly fumbled with the gun under his jacket. From the 24 hours or so you’d spent with him you knew he was rather erratic but had never expected him to be so rattled by the situation.

“Morning darl’,” Lemon said, briefly nodding his head at you. “Looks like today’s the big day. Give ‘em hell, would ya?”

“I’ll try,” you grinned, chuckling half-heartedly as you swallowed deeply, trying to hold back last nights’ meal. “You should hide in the wine cellar. It might be a little cramped, but it beats the downstairs.”

Lemon silently raised his brows, patting your shoulder before he scurried onto the boat, desperate not to be seen, and leaving you alone with Tangerine on the dock. He was handsome of course, but there was something rather striking about the way the blue of his eyes sparkled in the morning sunrise, casting a pinkish-golden hue on his skin. Maybe you were still partially hungover, or perhaps it was just plain old lust, but you felt your heart skip a beat as he walked up to you, staring at you intently.

“You should probably go inside. Jude could show up any moment now.”

“Yeah, yeah, I will in a minute,” he said, brushing you off as his jaw clenched. “You got everythin’?”

“Don’t I always?” You snorted. “Why’re you asking? Are you worried about me?”

“Nah, I’m just making sure you’re prepared, init?” Tangerine sniffed, briefly diverting his gaze. “This ain’t no movie, alright? I know you’re a right little spitfire n’ all, but you ain’t never seen a dead body. You haven’t gotten your hands dirty like we have.”

It was true. All your work had been purely operative; sneaky and based on mind games – this was the real deal. Rubbing your temples, you sighed before looking up at him.

“I’ll get out of this, ok? I always do. I’ll use the residuals for a therapist or something.” You laughed, but Tangerine didn’t share your smile, instead rolling his eyes and swiping at his moustache.

“Just — We’re on deck if you need anythin’ alright?”

You nodded, taking note of the grave look Tangerine flashed you before climbing onto the boat in search of his brother. Sighing, you nervously glanced around at the bay before following them, the spare gun in the garter under your dress brushing against your leg as your lifted it; a reminder of your final option. This was real, and you weren’t going to be able to take it back.

It was a few minutes before you heard commotion on the back of the boat, with Jude’s loafers making a slight squeaking sound as they approached the bottom deck. He recoiled slightly upon seeing you, a mimosa in either hand, wearing a big smile and his grandmother’s pearls.

“Happy birthday,” you grinned. “Thought I’d surprise you.”

“Fuck…” Jude said under his breath, shaking his head. He walked over and took the glass from your hands, raising his eyebrows as his way of saying thanks.

“That’s my wife, always surprising me…” he said sarcastically before taking a sip. “Why are you here? You never get up before 7.”

“Can’t I do something nice for you?” You scoffed. “You’re thirty now. It’s a new start.”

“Don’t remind me…” he sighed. “You know when my father was this age he’d already had three children?”

You snickered into your glass.

“You’ve never expressed an interest.”

“Just saying,” he shrugged, glancing around the deck suspiciously before taking another sip. “Maybe if you weren’t away all the time, we’d would’ve been able to start a family.”

Shutting your eyes, you shrugged, brushing off one of the many gaslighted statements Jude had given to you over the years of your marriage. It wasn’t anything new of course, but it still agitated you; hurt you, even, but you managed to find a way to regain your composure.

Just hang in there a little longer.

“Start the engine already. We can talk about this after.”

Jude rolled his eyes and marched back up onto the top deck. Your gaze was fixated blankly on the narrow staircase, listening to the scraping sounds of equipment being moved about and eventually the boat leaving the harbour; the clanging of metal chains reading as an omen. It was all painfully metaphoric; and you wondered whether you really wanted to go through with this.

After all, he was thirty now, and that usually meant a new beginning. He was annoyed at your presence, yes; that was a given, but you were beginning to consider that maybe, just maybe, he’d change. Kids had never been in the picture until now, and you took that as a sign that maybe he was having an epiphany too. It was unfathomable to you that the past seven years of your life had been an entire waste, that there was no reward for what you’d endured whatsoever.

Forget the Twins; this was about you. You knew Jude, and they didn’t.

You could make this work.

Eventually, Jude put the engine on pause, and you were left bobbing on the water, roughly fifteen minutes from shore. You raised a brow as he came down, a strange sense of dread wiping over you as he poured himself a glass of whiskey. Fuck the plan; if you didn’t off him, you were certain that drinking an operating a boat would do the trick.

“If you’re serious about kids, then maybe we could start fresh?” You questioned; your voice noticeably soft as you fiddled with your necklace.

“Yeah, right.” He snorted, barely bothering to look up.

“I’m serious, Jude,” you continued, sitting up in your seat. “You’re thirty, I’m two years away from that…We’re not getting younger and you’re the only love I’ve known. It’s time for us to be adults now.”

He seemed to freeze at the word ‘love’. Admittedly, it wasn’t a phrase you’d used of late, if ever. Pouting his lip, he turned to face you, eyeing you up and down before he spoke.

“You serious?”

“Yes.” You pleaded. You could practically feel your insides turning into yourself, but you continued anyway. “I know about your affairs, and I know that you brought one of them along on this trip. But once we leave here, I’ll forget about it, I swear. We can focus on a family.”

Jude pursed his lips, rubbing his hand over his mouth pensively. His eyes were like saucers; glassy and round, and you could only decipher that he was feeling guilty. Guilt about the funds, guilt about his infidelity...everything. You felt a tingle in your heart, and in your loins, even.

“I haven’t fucked you in a while…I was starting to forget what you felt like.” He mused, walking over to you and playing with your necklace, eyes moving down towards your collarbone and exposed décolletage. “Hm. If you’re serious, then we may as well start now…”

Your brows twitched upwards. The Twins were on the boat, and you were certain that they wouldn’t enjoy such a sordid display; for separate and distinct reasons entirely. Yet, that wasn’t the only thing holding you back.

You grinned, but it wasn’t because you were happy.

“Not without getting a test first.”

Jude visibly recoiled.

“Excuse me?”

You shrugged.

“Don’t play dumb, Jude. It’s only fair that I ask.”

He slumped his shoulders, a frowny pout wiping across his lips as he tried to wrap his head around the request, as if you’d spoken to him in Klingon. You paid no attention to the erratic bounce of his leg, or the subtle way his jaw ticked – none of it really scared you. Jude was simply being the same person he’d been since the beginning; a whiny manbaby.

He hadn’t even denied being unfaifthul.

“Besides, I haven’t been loyal, either.” You finished nonchalantly.

His movements paused, and he broke his gaze from staring somewhere in the corner of the room.

“You what?”

“You had your vices and I had mine. I slept with the concierge a couple of times – we were always safe, but you never know —“

Before you knew it, there was a sharp jab to your nose, which turned into a burning, and eventually a numbness. The pain began to throb almost immediately, and all you could do was stare wide eyed at the man opposite you – the man you’d once loved – as he resumed what he was doing, casually fixing his watch as if he hadn’t just struck you across the face.

Panting, your fingers trembled as you braced yourself, expecting droplets of blood. Instead, you were met with a shrug.

“Oh, come on,” he huffed. “I’m sorry, baby. I just can’t stand the thought of you with another man.”

You didn’t respond, and he scoffed.

“It was a mistake – I was just angry. I won’t do it again, and I never will, ok?”

You remained silent, instead staring blankly as you turned around, with Jude barely casting so much as a glance at you as you disappeared into the bathroom. It was only a few moments before you returned, the trembling hand on your nose replaced with two hands on a gun, one cupping the barrel and the other the trigger.

“You’re not serious --”

All it took was two bullets to his chest, the sound of the releasing mechanism ringing out on the boat. It was loud, but knowing you were so many miles off shore you knew that it was ultimately nothing. When the smoke cleared, you were left with a slowly dying body, scarlet circles widening as they seeped through the white material of his polo shirt. His eyes were still open; and inexplicably they looked at you with more emotion then they ever had when he was alive.

You barely had a moment to yourself when The Twins scrambled out from their hiding spot, with Lemon taking his position next to you; arms folded and a bored expression on his face, and Tangerine on your other side.

“Are you sure this was your first time firing a gun?”

“Lemon, this ain’t the fuckin’ time --”

“I’m just sayin’,” the dark-skinned man said exasperatedly. “She’s bloody good at everything. You sure you ain’t some secret agent, girl?”

“With all due respect, Lemon, let’s not get on her fuckin’ nerves,” Tangerine continued, holding a hand up as if to slow his brother down. “She’s just killed her bloody husband for God’s sake, that ain’t fuckin’ easy --”

“She fires better than you.”

“That ain’t true.”

“I thought we were supposed to be liftin’ her up?” Lemon continued in disbelief before biting his lip. “I know just the thing. There was an episode of Thomas where --”

“Finish that sentence and you’ll be on the ground with the bastard.”

“Easy, let’s not get too hasty,” Lemon replied, eyes wide and lips stretched into a frown, his hands outstretched as if he were surrendering. “All I know is that I ain’t dealin’ with that body o’ his. I don’t like blood.”

Tangerine merely cocked his head in disbelief.

“It makes me queasy.”

The moustached man sighed, shaking his head as he cast his gaze to the ground. Blood was beginning to seep into the fine cracks of the ships, decking, all the while you’d gone missing. Considering there weren’t many places for you to hide, the man correctly assumed that you were up deck, steering the boat aimlessly as they continued to bob along the water, where the cold Atlantic was hitting the warmth of the Gulf of Mexico. The recipe for a perfect storm, yet all was silent.

“Alright,” the man sniffed, placing his shiny cufflinks in his back pocket and rolling up his sleeves. “I’ll chuck him over. Bring the weights, would ya?”

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹ ‧˚

“ ‘Ere ya go.”

“What’s this?” Lemon replied as he looked down at the pamphlet in his hands. The three of you were cooped up in a shitty motel, practically en-route to leaving the country. Once Jude’s family found out that you were both missing (or that their son was gone and you remained) there was certainly about to be a manhunt. Hell, you might’ve even been a suspect.

“Just look at it.”

It didn’t take long for Lemon’s face to light up in recognition as he scanned past the Spanish words and into the corner of the paper to see the image of a train; several to be precise.

“The only Caribbean country to have railways. Got you a ticket to the museum.”

Lemon lit up.

“Well thanks, mate but it’s late at night... I should probably get my jammies on.”

“Just say Tangerine sent you.”

“Why do you want me to go now?”

Tangerine frowned. “I gotta have a word with Y/N.”

“You can speak to her now, don’t let me stop you --”

“Jesus Christ, don’t make me have to spell it out for you, Lemon. Her and I got somethin’ goin on, and I think we can --”

“You wanna sleep with her. Got it.”

“Lemon --”

It was almost impossible for him to deny it anymore. Tangerine considered himself a gentleman, but there was something about you that made him think otherwise, particularly the way spots of blood had begun to dry up on your dress. You were tainted, yet not in the borderline sociopathic manner he was. In a sick way, you almost complimented each other. The bride and the groom.

You hadn’t spoken much since the incident. Granted, it was only a few hours ago, and he figured you were still in a state of shock. He wanted to breach the conversation, but he wasn’t sure how; finding it wholly unfamiliar for him to be outwardly sensitive and considerate. It just wasn’t in his nature.

“Where’s Lemon?” you spoke suddenly, breaking your aimless gaze from the television.

“Him? Ah, he’s out.” The man waved off.

“So late?” you frowned. “He’s probably lonely...He could get hurt!”

“He’s an assassin, love,” Tangerine said matter of factly. “ ‘An trust me, there’s nothing Lemon loves more than his own company.”

“Figures,” you shrugged. “You wanna have sex?”

Tangerine scoffed confidently. “If I shagged you, sweetheart, it wouldn’t be a one-time thing.”

“Never said it had to be.”

Before you knew it, your body was on his in the heat of passion, fingers running through his brown locks as his moustache tickled your upper lip. His taste, was very much like the sea; salty, yet airy, almost the very definition of the outside. even through it all, he was sweet, with the smell of his cologne tantalising your senses even through the stench of death. God, it was so fucked up.

“You’re perfect, love,” the man cooed through your entanglement. “That bastard didn’t deserve ya.”

“Easy,” you teased, skilfully sliding your hands down to his belt. “I haven't even taken my clothes off yet.”

In a rare moment, Tangerine blushed, making up for his vulnerability with a quip.

“Lippy, are we?” he grinned, blue eyes and white teeth sparkling. “You ain’t gonna have all that chat when I’m finished with ya...”

He dragged his large hands up the sides of your body, caressing the wides of breasts, tracing down your hips and eventually giving your ass a firm grope as you played with his erection through his pants. For a bunch of grown adults, you were behaving like a couple of teenagers, fooling around in the backseat of a car after prom. His grunts and breath quickened as you finally undid his zipper, breaching contact as you slid your fingers into his briefs, coaxing a sharp sigh from the action.

He was hung; perfectly so, in the sense that he wasn’t too big or small, and you were more than certain that he knew how to use it. It didn’t take you long to slide your panties down your legs, the action a sinful image that was certain to be burned into Tangerine’s mind for a while.

When he entered you, it felt like heaven. Better than the bellboy, and certainly better than anything Jude had given you. Tangerine let out a gruff grunt, his usually kept hair falling into his face as he allowed himself to adjust to the sensation. You were warm, certainly wet, and fit perfectly around him, leaving him wondering why he hadn’t found you before.

“Oh, darlin’...” he hummed. “Forgive me, I usually got a lot more in the tank...But I don't think I can hold back with you.”

Your walls clenched at the statement, gripping the man as he began to thrust his hips in and out of you, finding a rhythm almost immediately. Your head dangled off of the arm of the couch as you glanced across at him; a beautiful British man you’d met 48 hours ago rutting into you with such passion that you’d never experienced in your 8eight year marriage. Sure, it could’ve been the fact that he was only the third man you’d been with, but it felt different; sweet, but sultry, firm, yet intimate. He was fucking you like an animal, but he was almost certainly the man of your dreams, the kind of man the college version of you had dreamed about marrying someday.

Ok, Tangerine wasn’t the marrying type, but you couldn’t say you weren't bound for life. It was practically by blood.

“Shit...” he groaned, momentarily pulling back to withdraw his hips and dagger you from another angle, hitting that oh-so sweet spot. “I ain’t ever had nothin’ better than this. You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?”

You bit your lip and wined, finding words, let alone sentences, hard to conjure. You were far too overstimulated; with the man’s hands finding their way to your breasts again and his lips by your ear as he whispered sweet nothings in that thick accent of his.

Desperately, you gripped onto his broad clothed shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as you basked in the motions. Jude was gone, dead, his body right at the bottom of the ocean, unlikely to ever be seen again (You’d learnt to never say never), and which technically made you a fugitive, but also a free woman. A free woman who’d met two handsome men, one you had a suspicion you’d be seeing often. Perhaps you’d become an assassin too; join them on the run across the world, or maybe you’d lay low for a while and drop off completely. Either way, you knew one thing for a fact – The Twins were going to have your back.

In fact, they probably weren’t going to let you out of their sight.

But, considering one of those were on top of you; a striking blue and filled with passion, you figured you just might stay a while.

FIN.

Taglist: @mylatest-hyperfixation @thewizardcat @j23r23 @ohgodthebogisback @starkeyboyismine @multifandomdiva 🤍

#florence writes!!#tangerine x reader #bullet train tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train x reader #bullet train x reader #aaron taylor johnson x reader #atj x reader #tangerine smut #atj smut #aaron taylor johnson imagine #tangerine imagine #bullet train imagine

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dcandmarvelimagines · 2 months ago

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sweeter than you ever knew. (pt 4)

Series: pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5 Pairing: Wade Wilson x Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader Rating: Mature Word Count: 7.9k (yikes omg)Warnings: AFAB reader (uses she/her pronouns), 1st person POV, non-mutant Reader, fluffy and softness, Logan gives you a bath and also makes food, Wade is so gentle and cute, lots of kissing!!, descriptions of bruises, mildly horny? Author's note: Hi lovelies!! Take some intense fluff and softness! I maybe made Wade a little too serious in a spot but I just needed it, we all needed it after how intense that last chapter was <3 This is also an eternity long omg, but the comfort took me over, mind and soul. Next chapter is the last one :’( it makes me so sad to think that this will be over soon. But it’s going to be THE chapter. All the sexual tension is finally going to be resolved. ao3 Tags (if you would like to be included or removed, just let me know. If I forgot someone I'm so sorry!!): @fallout-girl219 @xolosimp @o0aligoth0o @thedevilsaysthings @jaeyuni @redmitsuru5 @jeffs77 @spideybv28 @trumanbluee @jennapearce13 @chxrrybomb22 @7soulstars @what-the-jams @lostinheavensworld @purplestars222 @movieat @whiskeyghoul @paintballkid711 @unmotivated-artist164 @sun7lowxr @minniekitties @ceobuggy @amararosesblog @harryshousewhore @bontensbabygirl @belgium2 @g0ldenstarr @wolvndmouth @sseleniaa @reddesires

The next hours passed in a haze. A group of men in large cars picked us up. No flashing lights pierced through my closed eyelids, so I didn’t think they were police. Logan kept me in his arms, growls rumbling through his chest whenever someone came closer. At some point my numb hands pushed his mask away. I just want to see him, see the comforting lines of his face, finally be able to read his expression. But my brain was sluggish, unable to make sense of him as he blinked up at me. Instead, I nuzzled my face into his cheek, smearing blood on his skin, eyes drooping closed.

Then I was in a bright room and a woman was talking to me. She was wearing a lab coat but I didn’t seem to be in a hospital. Logan and Wade weren’t in the room with me. She told me she was a mutant that would be able to heal me, but not completely, that I would still be stiff and my wound would turn to a horrible bruise. I just gave weak acknowledgements to all her questions. I barely felt the discomfort of my skin and muscles knitting themselves back together. Her touch was gentle as she wiped away the gore from my face and hair, the same healing ability applied to my busted lip and aching cheeks. She handed me a bottle of painkillers, telling me I would need to rest for at least a week. I was grateful that she also gave me a pair of thin pants and slip-on shoes. She helped me hobble to the door and out into a bare hallway. That’s where I found a mask less Wade, bouncing his legs in a chair that seemed near breaking point, and Logan pacing, his hair messy from running his fingers through it. They both sprung toward me and I collapsed into Logan’s awaiting arms. Wade kissed my temple as his hand caressed down my back. The woman explained my situation to them before she disappeared again.

“We’re going to stay over, at least tonight, okay sugar muffin?”

“Can you stay longer?” The idea of being alone, especially in my apartment, made my head scream in resistance. My hands scrambled against Logan’s costume, trying to cling to him, to make sure he stayed right here next to me.

“Of course sweetheart,” Logan murmured, “we can stay as long as you need us to.” His beard scrubbed at my forehead as he drew me close.

“I’ll go back to the apartment and grab our stuff then.” Wade parted with one last peck at my cheek. Logan let me rest my head against him for a long moment. The fact that I was alive, that I had survived everything hadn’t settled in quiet yet. But I knew it was only a matter of time before I broke down. Maybe Logan knew it as acutely as I did because he lifted me into his arms once again. My consciousness blinked in and out. We were in a car that smelled of cleaner. We passed by the bright skyscrapers. Then I was being jostled once more as Logan stepped out of the car. He placed me on my feet before crouching down in front of me. I didn’t ask for an explanation and just climbed onto his back, arms and legs latched around him. He climbed the steps to my fourth floor apartment.

“I’m sorry I ruined your shirt,” I whispered, lips next to his ear. His hand squeezed my uninjured thigh.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I have plenty more that you can have.” By the time we exited the dingy stairwell, dawn was peaking through the hallways windows. Wade had clearly told him my apartment number, or I had in my pain induced delirium, because he found my door easily. I glanced down.

“I guess my pizza actually was delivered. Probably bad now though.” I would have thought after two weeks it would have been taken away or would have started to smell. Odd. Logan jiggled my door open and brought us inside, catching the pizza box with his foot and bringing that in as well. My body felt lethargic as I let go of Logan. My healing leg felt far stronger than before, only minor tremors in the muscle. He was drifting through my kitchen, filling a glass with cool water from my fridge, grabbing snacks from my cabinet. “Can we take a bath?” He studied me, worry etched onto his lined face. “I don’t think I have the energy to do it myself.”

“Drink this,” he tapped the glass, “and eat this first,” he pushed a small packet of crackers toward me. I did as he asked but didn’t sit. If I did, I doubted I would get back up again. He watched me closely, like I had any reason to hide from him. Once the glass was empty and the crackers gone, I trudged to my bathroom. My leg was tense and hard to move. The doctor had done a good job healing my face, leaving me only with two twin bruises on my cheeks. They were already in the yellow stage of bruising and would be gone within a few days. I stood in the familiar space for a moment. Something soothed in my soul at the sight of my towels, the new ones that were like a cloud. I felt back to myself, if only a bit.

While I waited for Logan to join me, I brushed my teeth. Twice. Then I raked a comb through my knotted hair. I started the bath, not caring about my neighbors and the early hour. When I turned, I found Logan in the doorway, naked. The small horny part of my brain shouted at the rest of it to take in every inch of his sculpted body. But I just didn’t have the energy. “Sorry,” he huffed, sounding a little self conscious. “The suits are hard to get out of without looking stupid.”

“Hopefully you can help me out of these,” I plucked at my shirt, “without making me look too stupid.” Fine, a small win for horny brain. He approached me in tentative steps, like I was about to attack him or scream. “Logan, I’m not scared of you.” His face relaxed, if only slightly, but he didn’t seem reassured.

His hands were gentle as he lifted the filthy shirt off me. The calluses whispered across my hips as he reached for my pants, thumbs hooked through my panties, and let them pool around my feet. I braced myself on his shoulders so I could remove my shoes. Logan’s eyes drank my body in before he closed them and shook his head once. “Not the right time,” he grumbled to himself. He stalked to the tub, sitting himself on the lip, before testing the waters with one thick finger. It was seemingly up to his standards and he shut the water off. He collected a washcloth, soap, shampoo, and conditioner before he lowered himself into the hot water. A little groan escaped his throat, neck bared as it fell back. There was a firm muscle in his jaw that relaxed as he sunk into the hot water. Steam filled the bathroom, the mirror foggy. It made him look like something from the cover of a romance novel, too handsome and otherworldly to be real. He propped one wet arm up on the edge of the tub and I followed a drop of water as it traced down a vein. “You just gonna stand there and stare, princess?”

I shrugged. “Nice to stare at.” I climbed into the tub, settling between his spread legs, melting into his comforting body. I watched as the blood coating my legs and torso swirled into the clear water, tinting it pink. We didn’t speak for several long minutes, the plunk of the dripping faucet the only sound echoing in the room. My thigh ached but the tight muscle started to loosen the longer I soaked. I absently rubbed at it, hoping to work the last of the soreness out, but only managed a wince of pain. His hair tickled my ear as he leaned closer.

“Hurt?” I shook my head. His fingers outlined the injury, touch feather light.

“If it means you keep touching me, then yes.” His chin notched itself between my shoulder and neck. But he kept up his soft touches, his other thick arm curled loosely around my stomach. It seemed like he was intending to let silence fall again. “Why the new nickname?” The question popped out just to give him a reason to keep talking.

“Wade has a new one every time he talks to you, thought I would try. I thought sweetheart would be dull by now. Don’t like it?”

“I didn’t say that,” I teased, wet fingers running through his hair. “I figured you would be very old fashioned with your pet names.” I felt his chest rumble with a restrained chuckle. His chest hair tickled at my back. We lapsed into silence again. As it stretched, my mind started to wonder.

The man’s brain splattering across my face.

The crack of the wood seat as the knife drove in deeper.

The creeping numbness in my feet.

The sight of a man walking through my bedroom door.

“Hey,” Logan whispered against my ear, “come back to me.” I shuddered and clutched at his arm, wrapping it tighter around me, nails digging into his flesh. “You’re okay. Take a deep breath for me. Good job,” his big hand rested on my chest, right over my heart. “Deep breath again, okay?” I did as he said. His hand pushed down against me in a comforting press as I breathed out. I took five more inhales before he removed his hand. “You’re safe, sweetheart.”

“I know,” I said, trying to reassure myself. I knew I was. I trusted Logan and Wade with my life. But I felt a confusing mix of vulnerability and numbness. I wanted to cry, to break down at the injustices done upon me. I also wanted to retreat into myself and become nothing but a husk of my former self. Logan gave me a light kiss on the cheek.

“Time to clean you up I think.” I nodded. He was, as always, gentle. He used a plastic cup to spill water down my hair, hand braced along my forehead to stop any from falling into my eyes. He shampooed my hair three times, trying to get every bit of blood out. His fingers massaged into my scalp and I let out satisfied sighs at the feeling.

“You’re good at this.” The last of the shampoo was washed away, sending a cascade of soap down my spine. He pumped a generous amount of conditioner into his hand before spreading it along the ends of my hair. He worked diligently through the knots, never tugging or ripping.

“I’ve had a lot of…” his voice trailed off, seeming uncertain.

“Girlfriends?”

“I was going to say practice.” My lips twitched. “Lean forward.” I drew my knees up and rested my head on them. I heard the squirt of soap a moment before the washcloth touched my back. He rubbed in smooth circles, just the right of pressure applied. Eventually his hand curved over my shoulder and I sunk back against him. He was thorough, scrubbing spots I often passed over quickly. The hollow of my throat, the ditch of my elbows, between each of my fingers, behind my ears. Something hard nudged against my back. I pushed experimentally back against him. He let out a hiss and stilled my hips with a single hand. “No. Not now, just relax.”

“That usually does help me relax.” His hand disappeared under the cloudy water to scrub at my legs. I sat up suddenly and spun, a small wave of water spilling out of the side of the tub. My legs braced themselves on either side of his hips and my hands landed on his shoulders. I caught his hazel eyes flashing down to my breasts where they squished against his chest, before he looked back up at me. “You’re so handsome,” I purred, fingers mapping lines of his face.

“Hey,” his tone was commanding, but not mean, as his hands latched around my wrists. I tried to catch his lips but he was able to avoid me.

“Distract me,” I plead.

“Not like that.” I struggled a moment longer and then I deflated. My forehead fell, landing against his, eyes shut tight. Self consciousness and shame bit at me.

“I’m sorry. I don’t…I just don’t want to think about it anymore.”

“Don’t have to apologize, princess.” He brushed my damp hair off my shoulders, hand trailing up my pulse point, before rubbing along my cheekbone. “Let’s get you in bed. I know all your emotions are keeping you up, but you’ll crash soon. You don’t have to worry about anything else until you’re ready.” I groaned.

“Shit, I have to call work. That’s assuming I’m not fired for being gone for weeks.” His thumb stopped. He drew back, pinching my chin, forcing our eyes to lock.

“Weeks?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, looking at him with confusion. “Well maybe more, I was trying to count by the sun.” I pointed at the ceiling to convey the sunroof. He blinked, brows knitted together. “What?”

“You were only gone for about half a day. Wade started panicking when you didn’t text him that you made it home.” My mind spun. “We would’ve never let you be taken that long.”

“So, what, it was some illusion?” The water had grown tepid. My thumb nail broke easily when I began biting it after it’s prolonged soak. The fact I could track my days was one of my saving graces. It kept my mind anchored to reality as I sat, bleeding out. But it was all a lie. Why? Logan tugged at my wrist, taking the nail away from me, giving the abused finger a kiss.

“That woman,” Logan hummed, voice slow as he thought. “She was a mutant. I think she could fuck with time or make us feel like she did. Wade said it felt weird right before he killed her, like he was moving too slow.” That would explain all the odd inconsistencies. The woman standing outside the door for weeks. Bleeding out for days without dying. Never feeling hungry or needing to use the bathroom.

“Why? Why would they do that to…ah.”

“What?” He was back to watching me like I was half feral, like I would attack him. It was a heartbreaking combination of weariness and open affection.

“The man told me that,” my voice stuttered. His touch was light as it moved down my back, disappearing under the water to my waist. “He said that you guys wouldn’t-“ I hated that my eyes now decided to sting. That I was breaking at this, about him.

“Don’t have to say anything sweetheart.” I shook my head, wet hair sticking to my shoulders. I curled my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, playing with the strands that had curled from the hot water.

“He said you guys didn’t,” I glanced down, looking at his chest instead, connecting the splatter of moles along his skin. “That you guys didn’t care or want me around anymore. That’s why you were taking so long.” He growled, the sound reverberating through the water.

“He’s wrong.” He aimed to reassure, but it was rough around the edges, anger tearing at the corners. It was very Logan. “We want you around as long as you’ll have us.” That mounting anxiety inside me began to dissipate. “Listen,” he squeezed my waist for extra emphasis, “don’t think of that waste of space. He deserved everything that happened to him and more. Everything he ever said to you was a fucking lie.” I nodded and leaned in for a kiss but paused.

“Just one.” Logan hesitated. “I promise I’ll be gentle.” He grinned and my heart stuttered at the sight. A true Logan grin was like spotting a shooting star, quick and stunning.

“I remember what your last kiss was like, I’m not sure I’ll survive it again. Having you against me has been enough torture.” Pride made me smile at him.

“Later then?” He nodded but gave me a quick peck anyways. I didn’t rush after him.

“Yeah,” he agreed. He cleared his throat. “I promise, I’ll take care of you, do whatever you need, give you anything I can.” My heartbeat stumbled and I blinked back a wave of tears. “I’m sorry I haven’t always been there for you.” His fingers danced along my shoulders. The action felt a little shy, nervous even. But his gaze never left mine. “But I,” his voice died for a moment. He cleared his throat again. “But I don’t want to let you go, not anymore.” I opened my mouth, ready to say he already had me, that I was never going anywhere, but he covered it with his wet hand. “Don’t say anything sweetheart. Just let me help you.” Reluctantly, I nodded.

He washed the long forgotten conditioner out of my hair before he rose from the bath. I nearly drooled at the sight of his thighs, thick with muscles and covered in a dusting of dark hair. I tried to avoid looking at his dick, it would only rile me up, but I caught a brief sight of it anyways as he stepped from the tub. The tip was a dusky pink and it looked wide. He padded over to my towel rack and grabbed one for each of us. He kept his back, and perfect bubble butt, to me as he dried himself off. While he did, I pulled the stopper from the drain and let the dirty water swirl away. He wrapped the towel around his waist before he turned back to me.

Logan carefully guided me out of the bath, both hands gripping my arms. Being back on my feet reminded me of the wound on my leg and I grimaced at the tremble that went through it. “Need some of the pills?” I shook my head. I was tempted to look at the injury but my empty stomach lurched at the idea.

“No,” he squeezed the towel over my wet hair, “the water just felt nice. Gravity is a bitch.” Logan chuckled but still looked worried. When my hair was only slightly damp, he moved to the rest of my body. I let him rub me down, giggling as he found ticklish spots in his thorough work. Occasionally his lips would ghost over where he had just wiped, my knee, my hip, the rib nearest my breast. They were always light and fleeting, but I relished them nonetheless.

Once I was thoroughly dry, he hung my towel back up. He caught my shoulders before I left the bathroom. “Don’t panic, Wade’s been back for about thirty minutes.” I quirked an eyebrow.

“And he’s just been sitting there? Without saying anything?”

“Trust me it’s been hard! Just like me honestly.” Logan sighed, eyes flicking to the ceiling, asking anything that would listen for patience. But I smiled and walked into my short hallway and found Wade sitting on my couch. He was surrounded by an obscene amount of bags. He had changed into a pair of X-Men branded pajama bottoms. When Wade saw me, completely naked, haloed by the dawn light, he made a strangled noise. “Holy fuck, oh my god, shit.” He glanced down at his cock, which was indeed very hard, tenting in a comical way. It gave a noticeable twitch.

“Calm down bub,” Logan growled, skirting around me to reach Wade and the bags. He glowered down at the other man’s pants. “She’s going to sleep and you,” he punched Wade’s arm for emphasis, “are gonna leave her alone.” Wade whined, head thumping against the back of the couch. Logan opened a bag, fishing out a shirt and boxers, along with a toothbrush. He dropped his towel, not caring that the blinds in the living room were wide open. Both me and Wade tilted our heads, gaze skating over Logan’s exposed body before he covered it with his underwear. He picked the towel up and went to put it back in the bathroom. He handed me the shirt, “don’t get brains on this one.”

As I took the worn shirt, he turned, but I stopped him with a hand to his cheek. “Thank you.” His hazel eyes nearly glittered in the rising sun’s rays. I gave him a kiss, just on the heavy side of chaste, but not what either of us craved. I drew back first and left him lingering, eyes half closed. I turned on my heel and into my bedroom. As I was picking up a fresh pair of underwear, I spotted Wade coming into my room as well. The faucet in the sink began to run. Exhaustion was finally starting to prickle at me and I yawned so hard my jaw popped.

“You’re so tired, let me help you.” Wade tugged the underwear from me before falling to his knees. He stared unabashedly at my pussy. I rolled my eyes, smiling despite myself. I was sure to give him a show, stepping into the stretched underwear one leg at a time, spreading myself open more than needed, my hand planted on his head for balance. He was slow to move it up my body, rising into increasingly hunched positions to keep the underwear level with his eyes. He left them down to reveal just a bit of myself to him. He leaned forward, a little point of pink exposed between his lips.

Logan’s hand clamped around his neck, hoisting him straight, like a mama cat with her misbehaving kitten. “So bad at following directions. Go brush your teeth, asshole.”

“Yes daddy.” Logan grunted in response. “You sound much scarier all growly like that. Much hotter too.” Wade dodged Logan’s fist as it swung toward him. He scampered away, winking, before the bathroom door shut.

“Insufferable.” Logan scanned me and I hastily tugged the shirt over my torso. “Good girl, now get into bed.” I blushed but did as he said. Before I collapsed down, I snagged a hair tie and brought my still damp hair up into a haphazard bun. It would be a complete knot when I woke up, whenever that would be, but I just needed it out of my way. Logan climbed after me, the bed frame groaning under his weight. Movement outside my window caught my eyes. It was just a bird fluttering by but a sudden spike of fear rushed through me. There was a clear handprint on the pane of glass. Logan, perhaps hearing my heart rate increase, followed my gaze. “It’s okay,” he mumbled, going to my window to shut the blinds. The room dimmed, the blinds cutting off the bright morning light. “No one will be able to get in here without Wade or me knowing.”

“I know,” I sighed, curling under my sheets. The bed creaked again as Logan joined me. His arms were like steel rods as they latched around me, drawing me flush against his firm body. He tucked his forehead against the nape of my neck and his breath tickled at the hair dangling there. His breathing was slow and even. My eyes drifted shut, chest synching with his. As if from down a long hallway, I heard Wade make some comment about how cute we looked. Logan’s chest rumbled in response.

The first thing I felt when consciousness finally reached me was bumpy skin against my nose. I buried my face deeper into Wade’s chest, shifting my stiff legs to feel that ours had tangled together. My thigh twinged at the motion. “Good morning, my lovely sleeping beauty. Never thought you would wake up, thought I would have to do it with true loves fuck.” A sleepy grin tugged at my lips.

“It’s true loves kiss, Wade,” I croaked, my throat scratchy. I must have been snoring. Cute.

“Not in the movies I watch.” I rolled to my back, stretching my body with a series of cracks and groans. Wade watched me with a hungry glint in his eyes, following Logan’s shirt drifting over my underwear and showing a sliver of stomach. I glanced at the window. With the blinds shut I wasn’t able to tell the time well, but judging by the burnt orange rays leaking through, it was either dusk or dawn.

“What time is it?” I reached for my phone on its usual spot on my bedside table before I remembered it had been taken with me. It was probably on some long forgotten table or smashed to pieces in a fight.

“It’s,” his phone flashed, “seven at night.” I scrubbed the lingering sleep from my eyes.

“Where’s Logan?” He wasn’t in the bed and I couldn’t hear any noise from the rest of the apartment.

“He went to get food. According to him, you don’t eat enough protein.” I shrugged, stretching my hips open, face scrunching at the ache. My hands went to my thigh, kneading at the skin. Wade twisted, kneeling between my spread legs. His pajamas were low, the edges of his hip bones peaking above the waist band. The dim light danced across his stomach and my eyes followed along the ridges of his abs. “You have lotion?”

“What?” I asked, half laughing, the question taking me off guard. A full giggle bubbled up inside me as his hands coasted along the crease of my thighs, fingertips catching under the elastic of my underwear.

“Well, I can’t give you a good massage if you aren’t all slippery.” His touch drifted up, pushing farther along my hips, revealing more of my skin to him. “I know you have some, don’t get such buttery smooth skin without it.“ I pointed my thumb to my bedside table. He leaned over me, hips flush with mine, as he rifled through the drawer before he snagged the lotion. My arms snaked around his waist, pressing little kisses to his neck and cheeks. “Logan warned me that you would try to seduce me.” I gave a throaty laugh and it only seemed to rile him up, his hips adjusting between mine.

“Do you want me to seduce you?” Wade groaned. His nose knocked against mine as he looked at me.

“No need sweetums, your snoring was as much of a turn on as I needed.” I rolled my eyes, pushing his chest back so he was kneeling once again. He grabbed the ankle of my injured leg, bracing my heel against his bare chest.

“You sure know how to charm a girl.” He smirked and popped open the lid of the lotion with his teeth, squirting a generous amount into his hand, rubbing them together to warm the liquid up.

“You’re still here aren’t you? Just can’t get enough of me.” I was going to give some sassy retort, but it was cut off by a surprised moan as Wade’s knuckles dug into my calf. The lotion helped his hands glide over my skin, working through knots with pressure that would have been painful without it. He moved in sweeping half circles, squeezing as he went.

“Shit,” I mumbled, eyes drifting closed. The tips of his fingers worked at the back of my ankle with the last of the lotion. Wade’s hand disappeared before returning to just below my injury, slicked with more lotion. His motions were more controlled, the press lighter, dancing around the bruise. “How bad does it look?” I tried to keep my voice light but there was a faint shake to the words.

“It doesn’t matter how it looks,” Wade responded, fingertips brushing the damaged skin. “How does it feel?” His touch was light and nearly tickled as he doodled idly across it.

“Doesn’t hurt, just feels numb in that spot. I can feel you touching the skin but it doesn’t feel…connected to me, I guess.” Wade hummed thoughtfully, lifting my heel to be over his shoulder, still damp hands going to the joint of my leg and hip, spreading my leg wider for him to massage. I sighed contentedly. “You’ve been holding out on me,” I teased, “should have made you give me back rubs anytime I saw you.”

“Just trying to show you all my skills before you let me fuck your brains out.” I opened my heavy eyes to find him smiling softly down at me. I reached out and he met me halfway, resting his cheek on my offered hand.

“We can add romance to the skill list. Who would have thought.”

“Hey,” Wade nipped my palm, sitting back on his knees. “I can’t do anything nice for Logan without him throwing a fit. So all my hopeless romanticism goes to you.” He lowered my propped up leg carefully before grabbing the other. He added more lotion to his hands.

“Well I’m honored,” my voice tilted into a moan, back arching as he found a particularly sore spot on my calf. His eyes were glued to my torso, my belly button just peeking out from the bottom of Logan’s shirt, nipples hard enough to point under the fabric. His movement mimicked his work on my other leg, knuckles pushing deep into my tight muscles. He was able to be more thorough with this thigh since he didn’t have a bruise to dodge around. I gasped and moaned, being over dramatic just to see the look on his face. As his hands crept farther up my hips, I spread my legs wider, trying to entice him closer.

The lotion faded but his touch didn't, fingers going under my shirt. “You’re quiet.” He nodded, middle finger dipping into my belly button and making me laugh.

“Logan gets like this sometimes.” I cock my head in question. “He gets quiet and will just touch my face. Especially after we get back from jobs. I never really understood it.” He traced up my stomach in soft sweeps, catching the edges of my ribs. “But he’s a grumpy asshole so if I mention he’s doing it, he goes and pouts.” The shirt whispers up my skin as he exposes more of me to him, the bottom curve of my breast visible, and he takes the opportunity to run his thumbs along the sensitive skin. “I get it now though.” I wiggled my hips farther down the bed and Wade drew them higher, resting them on his thighs. “I’m not one to talk about my feelings, and if I do, it’s usually in ways that make people think I’m deranged.”

“Well you are,” I teased. He pressed feather light kisses to my knees before throwing them over his shoulders.

“But you love that about me, right?”

“Ooh, throwing around the big L huh?” Wade grinned.

“Why shouldn’t I? Life is short.”

“Mine is, you and Logan will live forever, won’t you?” I reached up, mapping his face.

“Logan will outlive the sun on pure spite. Who knows for me,” he inched my shirt over my chest, exposing myself completely to him. “I haven’t always been like this. I used to have to worry about my life. It always felt like I saw one wrong step away from dying. I used to be way more reckless.” I raised an eyebrow and he chuckled. He tested the lengths of his healing factor beyond recklessness. “Let’s not point out my flaws while I’m trying to be sweet and open. I at least am guaranteed to live when I do dumb shit now.” I held up my hands in surrender and they moved to his forearms instead. “Even then I didn’t see a point in being guarded and ‘reasonable’. If I loved someone, I loved them.” I swallowed and I knew my cheeks were dusted with pink. “When you were taken, I realized I hadn’t told you. I don’t expect you to say it back but I just want you to know.” He circled my nipples, drawing them to peaks, and a soft sound caught in my chest. “Just think about it, yeah?”

“I don’t need to,” I mumbled, pushing my chest into his hands. Wade’s mouth opened just as the apartment door was shoved open. My body goes tense for a moment, expecting an intruder, but Wade gave a playful tug on my exposed nipples.

“Just the old man,” he reassured. I could hear the crinkle of paper bags being placed on my counter, the clink of my keys as he dropped them into my purse, then the light padding of Logan’s feet on the hardwood.

“I see you’re awake,” Logan said. He strode to where Wade and I were tangled, leaning down to give me a brief kiss, his leather jacket creaking as he did. “You’re a nice sight to come home to.” I preened under the compliment. Wade tugs the shirt back over my chest with an overly jealous huff.

“Am I not nice to come home to? And where is my loving smooch?” Logan rolls his eyes but gives in, grabbing Wade’s chin with a harsh grip and giving him a rough kiss. But Logan draws back before Wade wants him to and he chuckles at Wade’s pout. “You’re so mean to me.” Logan shakes his head, straightening, his arms crossing.

“Uh huh. If you excuse me, I’m going to make us dinner since you,” he points an accusing finger at Wade, “would set the place on fire.” Logan, as if he couldn’t help himself, gave me another peck on the forehead. “Do you need anything princess?”

“Well for one, keep Wade out of the kitchen. I don’t have renters insurance.” Logan clicked his tongue, heading back out the bedroom.

“You need that, especially if you’re keeping us around.” Logan disappeared around the corner. I slid my legs off Wade’s shoulders, sitting up to kiss his nose.

“I’m going to go out by him, see if he needs any help.”

“Yeah, okay, are you sure you don’t just want to stare at his big bulging muscles?”

“That’s just a bonus."

Wade signed dramatically. “I suppose I’ll come with you, can’t let him hog all your attention.”

“I have to go to the bathroom first.” I swung my legs over the edge of the bed but paused. Wade slid off, offering his hands to me. I wanted to refuse, to try and do it myself, but I was afraid of my leg giving out from under me, so I allowed him to help me up. There was a dull throb but no stabs of pain or awful trembles. I appreciated that Wade let me lean on him and walk myself. I felt weak as is. These two men could heal from anything and didn’t seem to feel, or care about, pain and I was nearly debilitated by a thigh wound.

“Can I come with you?” I walked on my stiff leg into the bathroom, flicking the light on.

“No Wade, I can pee by myself.”

“Aw come on, I can hold your hand.” I shook my head, closing the door on him. I took in my appearance reflected back at me in the mirror over my sink. I looked like a mess. There were lines from my pillow pressed into my cheek and my hair was sticking in every direction. I swallowed.

I knew I needed to look, to get the anxiety out of the way.

I nearly gagged at the sight of my thigh. The spot, about the size of my spread hand, was deep purple, nearly black. Green and yellow spiderwebbed across the edge. There were broken blood vessels across my entire thigh. I touched it timidly and scrunched my face at the odd numbness. It didn’t hurt to touch, the pain had settled deep into my flesh. The doctor had told me that it would heal from the outside in, so this bruise would be here for a while. The longer I stared, the more I grew to accept it. I had been fucking stabbed and walked away with just this nasty mark. It was the best outcome I could have. I quickly used the toilet and brushed my teeth before exiting to the living room. I found Wade on my couch, tv already switched on, scrolling through my last streaming app. He finally made his decision and I heard the recap of the previous week's Bachelor episode. I had been half way through a rewatch when I was taken.

“Why am I even surprised you are a fan?”

“Where else do you think I got my charm and narcissistic tendencies?”

I found Logan unloading the three overflowing grocery bags into neat groups. There were packages of meat, fresh fruits and vegetables, cookies, and of course, a six pack of beer.

“No, no, sit down.” He hadn’t even looked up. I ignored him, limping closer. My hands traveled under his jacket, wrapping around his waist, laying my head between his shoulder blades. The leather was soft against my cheek, well worn and well loved. He stilled, one hand encompassing my overlapped wrists. “I don’t need your help.”

“Perfect,” I hummed, “I wasn’t offering it. Just stand there and let me hug you.” I wanted to crawl under his jacket, to be completely flush with him, to pin him close. A blissful moment passed.

“Your leg is shaking.”

“I know.”

“Then go sit down.” I lightly head butted his back.

“Stop being bossy.”

“Stop being stubborn.” He turned in my arms, pinning me in place with an exasperated expression. He traced my face with his rough fingers, lingering on the bruises still on my cheek. Then he sighed, resigned.

“Fine, you can stay over here. But I can’t have you latched on to me like a tumor. Go lean somewhere.” I knew that’s the best I would get. I picked a small section of my counter that would keep me out of Logan’s way. He had clearly inspected my cabinet layout before shopping as he put everything where I would. Eventually he started on dinner: steak, rice, and a salad. Wade was completely enthralled by the Bachelor, shouting dating advice at the tv to try and save the bachelor from his many mistakes. I watched Logan chop vegetables with rapt attention. He had shrugged off his leather jacket, leaving him just in a tight t-shirt. Everytime his hand flexed over the knife or as he grabbed a pan, the prominent veins popped under his skin. I felt like I could watch him for hours.

He drifted nearer to my perch, grabbing a beer from my fridge. I stuck my foot out to catch his thigh and guide him closer. Once I was able, I hooked my fingers through his belt loops, wedging his body between my spread legs. He took a large gulp of his beer before it clinked against the counter, his hands braced on either side of my hips. I could smell the lingering smoke of his cigar, the barest hint of a cologne. “Need something princess?” I bit my lip as I smirked.

“Can I ask for that kiss now?” His thumb tugged my lip free of my teeth. I sucked it into my mouth, tongue brushing against the tip. A tiny moan caught in his throat. Just the sound, knowing I made the stoic man weak, shot heat through my veins.

I drop his thumb and grab the neckline of his shirt, drawing him closer so our lips could connect. For a moment my stomach drops as he stays still against me. He exhaled, breath coasting across my face. Then he’s kissing back. It’s slow, long languid strokes against each other. His hand caressed the side of my neck, thumb against my pulse point, his calloused palm a pleasant scrape. There’s no rush, no desperation like before in the bathroom with Wade. That tension, his resistance to me wanting him, has seemingly evaporated. I plucked his shirt from his jeans, hands exploring his torso, tracing the lines and ridges there. His head tipped to the side and mine mirrored it. His tongue stroked against my lip, begging entrance, which I freely gave. The wheaty tang of beer is heavy on him and it never tasted so good. I wanted to sink into this feeling, this pleasant hum of contentedness, but his mouth moved too soon from mine. It traveled across my cheek, along my jaw, before hoovering over my ear.

“You can get the rest of your kisses later, okay sweetheart?” I whined in frustration. “Do you want to eat burnt food?” He pressed one last kiss to my cheek before extricating himself from me. I wanted to draw him back, say fuck it to the food. But I just sighed.

“Fine.” He grinned. He flipped the steaks, checking under the pot lid at the status of the rice. Well, at least I get to watch those hands again. Of course, I rarely ever get what I want. The food was done too quickly and despite my stomach feeling like it was about to eat itself, I mourned watching him. I accepted my plate gratefully, pressing my lips to his in thanks. My steak was cut into thin strips, perfectly done, while his and Wade’s were still whole. I noticed a lack of a knives on their plates as we went to the living room.

“Not Victoria!” Wade cried, flopping back on the couch in defeat. I nestled next to him, plate balanced precariously on my knee. Logan, realizing we all wouldn’t fit on my tiny couch, sat on the floor in front of me, his wide back against my shins. To my horror, and amusement, both of them picked their steaks up with their hands and ripped into them. I watched a trail of juice run down Wade’s chin. He turned and smiled. “He’s rubbed off on me,” he nudged Logan’s shoulder with his knee. “He gets a hunk of meat in front of him and he just has to rip into it. When he first saw my ass, he tore a chunk out.”

“I did not.” Logan grumbled. “I just bit you, it’s not my problem your skin is thin.” Wade shook his head in exasperation.

“He loves downplaying his accomplishments.” I hummed, mouth still full of food. Logan was a great cook, the steak practically melted in my mouth.

“If I’m between you two, could we keep the stabbing and biting to a minimum? I’d rather not have to buy new sheets all the time because you two keep ruining them.”

“Aw,” Wade cooed, his breath ghosting across my cheek. “Come on baby, you already stabbed me once. Don’t you want to do it again?” I spun to face him.

“No,” my voice was louder than intended from shock, “didn’t it hurt?” Wade shrugged.

“Yeah, of course it did. But if your wet pussy is around my dick, the pain doesn’t matter. Probably just make me come harder.” My face was hot and I squirmed. He changed in the most attractive way when he spoke about sex. A look of brazen confidence came over him, his voice smug.

It turned me on.

The idea of injuring him was unappealing and sent a wave of fear over me. But if it was something he would want… “I don't even need a super sniffer to know you want to try it out. I promise I fuck so much harder when knives are involved.”

“Wade,” Logan warned.

“Doesn’t she smell good? Good enough to eat huh?” My thighs squeezed together and I swallowed. Wade was leaning in closer, like a spring about to snap. Logan’s hand shot up, gripping the other man’s chin, and yanked him to face the tv.

“Leave her alone. Don’t make me put my claws through your head.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time. You know your claws just make me even more sensitive.” Logan slapped Wade’s cheek, not hard enough to injure, just enough to make a crack. Wade groaned but settled back into the couch, giving Logan’s hair a little tug. We finished dinner in relative silence, Logan and I were quiet while Wade continued his narration, critiquing everything from the fashion to the date ideas. With Wade’s attention off me, the sudden flash of arousal faded, but not totally.

Once our plates were clean, I grabbed them before Logan could even attempt to move. “Hey, let me do that,” he grumbled, trying to grab my shirt to stop me. I evade his hand with a giggle. I run the dirty dishes under the faucet, putting them, along with the pots and pans Logan used to cook, in the dishwasher. “You should go and sit back down. Let me take care of it.”

“Jesus!” I yelped, the edge of the knife I had been handwashing catching the tip of my finger. “Need to put a bell on you,” I murmured, letting the warm water from the faucet run over the cut. It wasn’t deep but stung like a paper cut. Logan removed my finger, examining the injury. A thin line of blood oozed from it. “It’s okay, just needs a bandaid. Should have seen it after I got a mandolin.” He grunts, kissing the cut, before letting my hand fall. I flicked the water off.

“Have you taken anything yet?”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t hurt Logan, just aches.” He drifted closer, our bodies flush to each other, my hips bumping the counter.

“I’d much rather you take it now,” he nearly purrs, gruff voice tender. “That way it won’t hurt later.” His hands caged me in.

“I think you just like telling me what to do.”

Logan shrugged, “one of you two needs to listen to me.” I hummed, considering, arms wrapping around his neck.

“Fine, you win.” It looked like he was going to pull away but my arms tightened in warning. “For being so nice and following your orders, I want another kiss.” He huffed a laugh.

“Are we using them are bargaining chips now?”

“Yes, you’re the one who keeps saying I’ll get more later. So I’m asking for at least one now.”

“Okay princess, you get whatever you want.” He gently removed my arms, grabbing me a glass of water, as well as the bottle of painkillers. “Here,” he plucked one of the little pills out, holding it for me. I open my mouth in response, tongue out. “You and Wade,” he grumbled, “always trying to tease me.” His fingers graze my tongue as he puts the pill on it. “Now drink,” the command in his voice made my skin prickle. I take the glass dutifully, swallowing the pill down, making a satisfied ah noise once I was done. “Here’s your reward.” The kiss was so brief I thought I had imagined it.

“Hey,” I growled, “don’t be mean.” Logan was smug as he brushed some loose hair from my face. “Fine,” I wiggled from between his arms, heading back to the living room. “I’ll go ask Wade for some.”

“Oooh smoochie time!”

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boxofbonesfic · 9 months ago

Text

Title: Tonality [5]

Pairing: Prince!Geralt x Princess!Reader

previous Chapter

Summary: “The white wolf wants you. He’ll have no other.” As you grieve the loss of your father, your mother marries the king. Whilst you struggle to acclimate to your new life, you begin to suspect the interest your new brother has in you is less than familial.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Dark Fantasy, Darkfic, Step-cest, Medieval/GoT inspired AU, Genre Typical Violence, Mild Descriptions of Violence, (Future)Smut, Dubcon/Noncon, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, MINORS DNI!!

A/N: OMG I’M SO SORRY. this chapter was so hard to write and it kept getting away from me, because i really wanted to pivot hard into some of the main plot points. i really hope you enjoy it, please drop me a comment and let me know even if you didn’t.

“Come.” Your mother’s voice is firm. Her mourning veil just barely outlines the shape of her face, as her lips move beneath the fabric. It billows behind her as she walks down the darkened line of empty pews toward the front of the little chapel, a flickering candle held steady in her gloved hand.

Your father is to be buried tomorrow.

You know his grave is already dug—a fresh square cut out of the dark earth next to his father’s. The thought of him alone in the dirt is enough to make your throat tighten, though no tears come. You have cried them all already; a veritable ocean. Even so, your dry eyes ache for lack of them.

“W-wait, mother, I—” You do not want to see it, the vacant thing your father’s soul has left behind. At the end, you could barely recognize him in the fragile body decaying in his sick bed. You catch at her sleeve with numb fingers, lowering your head in shame. “I do not want to see—” Her icy fingers wrap around yours, long and thin, her jagged nails digging into your skin.

“We must each place a stitch upon the shroud.” You wince as she presses the long needle into your stiff hands. “It is our duty.” Only when you accept it does she release you, and for a moment, you see her lips quirk cruelly beneath the veil. You tremble as your mother steps aside, your breath catching as you see the shape of the body on the altar.

Just behind her is your father, his shroud dotted with the shapes of dead flowers and bare trees. It does little to quell the horror you feel to behold him, though, his thin outline visible through the shroud, limbs folded and delicate like a baby bird. You remember what he looked like two nights prior, his rheumy eyes dull and deep set into his skull, skin thin and sallow. He looks small now, too, beneath his shroud, and you find it hard to believe this withered corpse had once been a great mountain of a man. A good man, a strong man, now reduced to the barest scraps of skin and bone.

“Stitch.” Her command fills every inch of space, in the chapel and in your head. And though you want nothing more than to close your eyes and be gone from this place, your body will not obey. You raise the needle.

“Please, mother—”

“Stitch.” Her voice is like iron nails in your skull. Blood drips from your nose, and you taste the warm copper of it on your lips. You pinch a corner of thin fabric between your fingers, and push in the needle, pulling it through until the knot at the end of the thread catches. You lower your hand to the shroud as you sew another stitch, and as you do so, your fingers brush your father’s sunken cheek, and you retch.

You cannot stop—

She will not let you.

You look down at your father’s body with tears in your wide eyes, and as you do, a scream builds in your throat. You pinch his lips together between your forefinger and thumb. Delicately; like you would the hem of your gown for a curtsey— and sew another stitch through the meat of them. He is beginning to rot, now, you can smell it over the cloying scent of incense.

“Mother stop!” Your scream is swallowed by the heavy darkness of the empty chapel. Your mother sighs, her breath curling against your ear.

“How else can we make sure the dead don’t speak?” She threads her fingers through yours as she pulls your hand toward his sunken eyelids. You pinch the stiff flesh between your fingers, holding it taut for the needle.

“Now close his eyes.”

You wake with a start, sitting up in bed as you cover your mouth with one hand, fingers searching for the thick black funeral thread—but of course, you find none. The dream clings to the edges of your vision like spider silk, the taste of decaying things still heavy on the panicked air you draw in. A ra sob wrenches its way out of your throat as you press the heels of your palms against your closed eyes.

Perhaps I am mad, after all.

Ain’t supposed t’see the dead ones. Maybe Madge’s old superstitions had borne fruit in your own mind. You recall the symbol she made with one hand, finger on thumb, finger on thumb, before spitting down into the dirt as you left your father’s burial. She’d shaken her head then, some the silver-gray locs piled on top of her head coming loose. Ain’t supposed t’see them. They stay when you see, them, Lady.

They stay.

“No!” You throw the blankets off of yourself, lurching out of bed and stumbling towards the wash-bowl on the dresser. The thought of that day fills you with the same cold dread you have come to know too well. You’ve little choice in your dreams; the specter of his burial hanging over you like overripe fruit. But here, in waking, in the chill autumn daylight, you have the power to turn your thoughts to other things.

At least, you try to.

The water is shockingly cold, but you are grateful for it, staring down into the porcelain bowl. A knock at the door startles you, and you jump.

“W-who is it?”

“Kassandra, Majesty. Might I come in?”

“Yes,” you sigh. “You may.” You pat worriedly at your swollen eyelids, and you frown at your reflection as the door swings open. Your mother has an effortless sort of beauty, one that needs neither rouge nor powders to enhance—a trait you certainly do not share. Your disturbing, sleepless night is written plainly on your face.

Kassandra sets the tray down in the sitting area, before turning to you with a worried expression.

“Her Majesty hopes you are well,” she says, nervously tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear with dainty fingers. “As you were not at break-fast this morning.”

“I was… I did not sleep well.” You shake your head. “I trust my mother made her displeasure quite clear.” She stifles a laugh. “She’s good at that.”

“She did.” Kassandra gestures to the tray, porridge and an assortment continental fruit cut into bite size pieces. “You should eat, Lady. While it’s hot.” You pick uninterestedly at the porridge until it is mostly gone, along with the tart green grapes and sweet winter melon. At the very least you do feel better for it, or at least, more present—more grounded in this world, not the dream one.

You clear up the remains of your breakfast, piling the dishes neatly back onto the tray. In the armoire, you note that more Rivian style gowns have been hung, your light Redanian dresses folded neatly and shunted off to the shelves on the side. Your mother’s thin excuse makes you wrinkle your nose in distaste as you finger one of the heavy sleeves. “Much too light for these Rivian winters, Dear,” she’d said, patting the neatly folded dresses.

“You won’t need them.”

The truth remains unspoken, but you know it still—she does not want you to need them. You pull a heavy crimson dress from its place and begin to undo the lacing. Kassandra clucks her tongue at you.

“Highness, please. Allow me at least one task.” You roll your eyes in response.

“I believe you are capable of more than dressing me—and that I am more than capable of dressing myself,” you reply. You change into a fresh shift before shrugging into the dress. You twist around to reach for the lacings, but Kassandra shoos your hands away to do them herself.

“You’re doing them wrong.” She chides you gently. “Up for lift, down for compression, my Lady.” Kassandra nods at you in the mirror and then positions your body so that if you crane your neck just a little, you can see her hands as she easily threads the thick ribbon through the eyelets. “Opposing sides. Like this.”

You purse your lips. “We don’t wear these dreadful things in Redania,” you mutter, your breath hitching as the corset tightens. She laughs before stepping away, brushing loose lint from the folds of the heavy fabric.

“Even so, our fashion does suit you.” You can tell she wants to say something else, the way her mouth opens and then closes, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“You’ve another correction?” You ask, gesturing at yourself with a chuckle, but she shakes her head. She glances at the door, as though reassuring herself that it was still shut.

“No, no, I—I do not mean to be insolent, Highness,” Kassandra begins, “but I do not think I have ever heard you say you have rested well within these walls.” Your smile turns brittle and tired.

“No. I have not. And your concern is not insolence. I am grateful for it.”

“Healer Janna—her draughts have not availed you?” You hesitate, wondering if you should describe the shape of your demon, give it form and substance outside of your mind. You shake your head, steepling your fingers together to stop them from trembling.

“It seems the dreams that plague me require more than nightroot and dried frogspawn to satisfy them.” I see my father. I see him dead a thousand ways.

“Healer Janna’s draughts for sleep and pain are as close to magic as they’ll allow in the White Keep, you know that.” Bastard’s magic. You do. You think of Father Rame’s disgusted expression. He does not seem the type to suffer a witch to live. “But I have… there is another. A woman—they call her The Dock Hag.” Her voice is a low whisper, as if she fears the good Father ears will ring with her heresy, even here.

“And she can… she can rid me of these dreams?” The prospect is a tantalizing one. “You know her? You have visited this woman?”

“I—yes. I met her. Once.” Her smile is sad. “When I was small, and the older Ladies had need of her.” Kassandra’s words are aged, heavy with the weight of years that both do and do not belong to her in equal measure. “And then again, for the memories.”

“She…” You cannot bring yourself to say it. Kassandra nods, the smile going brittle and crumbling from her face.

“Not many Lords will claim their bastards, Highness, if you will forgive my candor.”

In your mind’s eye you see a small Kassandra, attending her own mother, most likely, or perhaps even an older sister or cousin who… had need of this woman. The witch who had taken their babies—

And then burnt their dreams out.

“What did it cost?”

“Nothing special. Gold.” You let out a relieved sigh at her words. That, at least, is an easy enough problem to solve. Kassandra cuts her eyes at you. “Are you going to go? To see her?”

Perhaps Madge was a superstitious old northern goat—But maybe she was right too: the living are not meant to mingle with the dead. Perhaps it is some guilt that drives your father’s image to the forefront of your mind, some secret thing that the specter of his death clings to—you cannot know.

But the witch might.

—

The east stair is narrow, cut roughly out of the stone as if it were an afterthought. The iron railing is pitted and mottled from the salt in the air, and it rattles dangerously as you grip it. The stairs themselves are uneven, still slick from the inconsistent rain that had stopped only hours before. Every step feels as though you are lurching forward, being pulled down the long winding stair to the paving below.

There are more ways to enter and exit this keep than the main gate, Majesty.

The east stair wound around the back of the White Keep like a snake, the steps hidden in the stone like a secret. As you take another cautious step down, your foot slips and you gasp, the railing shaking as you cling to it. You steady yourself, locking your trembling knees tightly as you recite Kassandra’s instructions.

You will take the east stair down from the parapets over the chapel. Through the gap in the wall is the city. Go straight to the docks, ask for the Hag.” She had not wanted to stay behind, though you had convinced her with a stern look and an order to send away any who came knocking at your door till you returned. You would need her to provide a believable excuse in the event that anyone came looking—and an empty room would be cause for alarm, especially with you… “ill.”

Below you, the city glitters with light even as the dark begins to deepen. Beyond it, the sun sinks into the sea, lingering on the horizon before disappearing completely. Like Kassandra had said, near the foot of the stairs—twenty feet back, and behind a column, but near enough—is the gap in the wall. It is overgrown thick with dying ivy, the orange leaves already turning spotty brown at the edges.

Crushed leaves litter the hood and shoulders of your cloak as you start to squeeze inside, the stone catching at your clothes. You push your way through the narrow passage, panic coiling in your gut at the feel of the unyielding pressure at your chest and back. Your fingers meet open air at the next push, and you practically drag yourself out into the streetlight, fingers digging into the stone.

The misty street that greets you is practically empty, and what few people there are do not seem to have noticed that you have joined them from nowhere on the wet cobbled street. Hurriedly, you brush dirt and discarded leaves from your cloak before you adjust your hood, angling it down over your eyes. You keep your head down, your hands clenched into trembling, nervous fists. Every heavy step you take away from the keep sets the warning bells in your skull to ringing, as gooseflesh rises on your arms.

It isn’t too late to go back. It isn’t. Not too late to turn around, slip back between the ivy covered crack in the east wall and seek your mother’s counsel once more—and go to sleep, knowing that you will see beyond the veil again.

The thought spurs you onward.

The streets are even more unfamiliar in the growing dark, and as you watch the lanterns flare to life to chase it away, you swallow nervously. There is so much to see, here—too much. As you approach the city centre the market is still bustling with activity, the shops open and windows bright.

You spare yourself a few moments to watch the people. A woman buys bread, her son playing in her skirts, a man pulls shut the door of the tavern across the way, a blacksmith’s hammer falls rhythmically like a drum, the chapel’s bell rings for evening prayer—there is so much here, the sheer amount of everything almost dizzies you. A woman bumps your shoulder as she passes by, and it stirs you out of your reverie. By the time she turns to apologize, you are already gone, hurrying off through the square.

The air turns salt with brine the closer you get, and you lick your dry lips, tasting it. The night had been thick with sounds in the city center, but the further you travel from it, the more quiet the streets become. It is eerie, the stark difference between these silent, empty streets and the lively square only moments ago.

The last time you had been to the docks was when you’d stepped off of the ship, in the scant few days before your mother’s wedding. Now, the narrow streets look different, unrecognizable from the snatches you remember through the carriage windows. You look in one direction, and then another, frowning.

“You’re lost, Sweet.” There is no question in the old woman’s voice. You see her then, standing beneath the street lantern in a pool of pale light.

“I—I am looking for—”

“Me, Sweet. You’re looking for me.” The shadows fall away from her face without her moving, like the light has only just decided to accept her. The Witch’s white hair is wild about her face. And her face… she is a severe beauty, like wind whipped ocean waves. The years define her jaw, sloping in gentle strokes down around her eyes, and her ears slope upward into gentle points. She is older than your mother, though you know this not by sight but because you simply… know it. An uncanny feeling that has grown in the back of your mind that she is like you, but… un-like you, too.

She is an elf.

It is not just the ears, but the air about her, an ethereal quality that surrounds her as thickly as the shawl about her shoulders. It is in the delicate set of her jaw, perhaps, or the distinct lack of canine teeth in her amused grin. You take a halting step forward, and then stop, wary.

“You are the W—you can help me?” The Witch wraps her shawl tighter about her shoulders, and fixes you with a hawkish look.

“Don’t know that yet.” She purses her lips. “Shall we do this in the street? Or will you oblige me my own roof?” You nod hurriedly, and follow her as she turns quickly on her heel down the street. You are close enough to the docks to hear the water as she approaches a small house, pushing open the door. You follow her inside, halting briefly at the doorway. There is dried heather inside, hanging in a braided bushel on the arch. She watches you step inside, her dark eyes narrowed.

“Shut the door behind you,” she snaps, flicking the edge of her shawl over her shoulder. “Never met a Princess raised in a bloody barn.” You brush aside the bushels of dried herbs hanging from the low ceiling as you make your way inside.

The Witch rounds the other side of the table, where you see the evidence of her unfinished work. A grindstone, laying on its side, with half-ground herbs lying in the bowl.

“How did you know?” You ask as she picks it back up, the sound of stone on stone filling the room as she resumes. “That I was looking… for you.”

“I always know,” she replies, somewhat exasperated. “Like a rabbit knows a fox.” Her sharp eyes find yours once more. “What ails you, sweet Princess?” There is mockery in her tone, though you dare not take umbrage at its presence. “A suitor you wish to beguile? A fair maiden you wish to remove from his eye?” Her gaze drops down, and then darts back up again.

“Or perhaps an unseen consequence?”

Your throat tightens.

“No, I—my dreams.” You say. “I dream the most terrible things, and I—I want you to take them away.”

The stone stops.

“Come here, child. Into the light.” The Witch holds out her hand, beckoning you forward. “And take down that stupid hood, you’re not hiding from anyone here.” She clucks her tongue at you as you approach, fingering the edge of your hood reluctantly. She already knows who you are—though you are not quite sure how she knows. With one hand, she reaches for your face. You do not flinch away from her—you do not fear her, though perhaps if you were smarter, you suppose you would. Her touch is gentle as she tilts your chin up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

The fire crackles in the hearth, louder for the silence.

“And what do you dream?”

“I see…” You swallow. “I see dead things.” She peers into your eyes, her pupils wide. “I see my father.” You tremble as she steps away, your mouth suddenly dry. “These dreams, these-these nightmares, you can stop them, can you not? You can—”

“I’ll not hear more about what I can and cannot do from the maid in the high castle,” she snaps. “And they are not dreams, though you walk through them in yours.” With her other hand, she reaches beneath her collar, producing a thin leather cord. There are all manner of things tied to it—feathers, beads, and small, clean animal skills that shine dimly in the firelight. There is a long black needle there, too, hanging by its’ eye.

“There is a spirit tethered to you.” She turns your hand over, stroking her fingers over the lines in your palm. She snaps her fingers, motioning for you to give her your other hand. “By great sorrow—” The Witch squints, bringing your hands closer to her face. “Or rage.” She drops your left hand, holding onto your right. “I can no more remove it than I could your shadow.”

“Tethered?” You repeat. “These are—they are dreams, they are not real—” You sputter in protest, but the Witch merely looks at you, orange firelight dancing in her dark eyes.

“If they are only dreams, why do you fear them so?” You cannot answer. “They are messages. You should be grateful for them, there are few feats quite as great as bridging the divide between us and those who have gone before, Little Queen. Your father cannot watch over you forever.”

“I am a Princess.” The Witch smiles.

“Is that right?” She grasps your hand, gripping your index finger hard and watching as the tip reddens. You flinch as she pinches the needle between two thin fingers. “Come now, Sweet. Mustn’t be afeared of a little pain.” She jabs it into the meat of your finger, and you yelp, tugging uselessly at your hand, but her grip is iron.

“Ouch!” With a twist of her hand she swipes the fat drop of blood from your fingertip and flicks it into the fireplace. It does not fizzle out, but instead lands on the topmost log, bubbling until it turns black. It smells like ozone—not copper. You do not know why, but you tremble a the sight of it. You have come here to have something taken away, but as you watch your blood crack and burn, you feel as if perhaps something is being given instead.

“What does this mean?” You turn to her. The Witch rubs your blood between her fingers, sniffing the residue for a moment before wiping them clean on a rag. She does not answer you right away, staring thoughtfully at the thin line of black smoke curling from the fireplace.

“Please, I—”

“It means, Princess, that we are kin, you and I.” She tilts your chin back as you stare at her, wide eyed. She runs the tips of her fingers over the narrow curve of your left ear—not pointed, not like hers, but… You push her away before you can stop yourself, clutching at your chest with your other hand as if to calm your racing heart.

“This cannot be true, it—it cannot!”

“Less than half,” she continues as if your sputtered refusal had never been spoken at all. “Less elf blood in you than I could hold in my hand, but aye, kin we are, still.” The Witch looks you up and down, and this time, there is pity in her gaze. “I cannot take your dreams.” Cold spreads through your trembling limbs. “You must release them yourself.”

“Release them? How?” She cups your face, and the movement of her thumb over the swell of your cheek is almost affectionate, though the words she speaks next send a cold chill down your spine.

“No fear, Little Princess. No fear.” For a moment, you swear her eyes go gold, and Geralt’s voice echoes again in the space between you. Before the Witch can say more, you quickly dig the gold out of your pocket, tossing the coins down onto the table as you flee. You do not register her cries to stop, to wait as you barrel through the door, throwing it shut behind you.

It is raining again, hard sheets of cold water pouring down from the dark, angry sky. You can hear the sea raging against the docks, water crashing in thunderous waves up against the harbor’s weathered stone. Your head is spinning, full to bursting. You are elf-kin—perhaps? Maybe?

Your mother had never seen fit to mention that minor detail—and for that matter, neither had your father. You tug your hood up roughly over your head and turn your face down, away from the cold rain pelting against your skin. Had he even known?

Would he have even wanted to?

Perhaps I can just ask him myself.

The thought makes you shiver, wrapping your cloak tighter around your shoulders. I can no more remove it than I could your shadow. You do not know which is worse—having left your father behind alone in the dirt, or the restless specter of him living in your dreams. Your finger aches from the point of the dock witch’s iron needle, and you clutch your hand to your chest as you make your way back towards the White Keep. Above you, a white hot arc of lightning splits the sky, throwing up stark shadows against the row of dark houses.

It is by that grace alone that you see the man.

You stop short, your heart leaping into your throat. He stands in the shadows beneath the sagging eaves, his stony face surprised as your eyes meet. He steps forward with a heavy sigh, a gloved hand resting on the hilt of the sword at his hip.

“Highness.” Your throat tightens, and you take a cautious step back as he comes into the meagre light offered by the street lantern above you. “Please don’t make this difficult.” His cloak is drawn over his chest, but you can see the shape of the armor underneath, jet black.

Nilfgaardian.

You turn—and run straight into a hard, armored chest.

“Good evening, Your Highness.” Duke Emhyr’s long fingers dig hard into your shoulders, hard enough to bruise. His black hair is slick with rain. He was waiting here… waiting for me. “I shall have to inform Lady Kassandra of your whereabouts,” he sneers. “She seems to think you are asleep in your bed.” You lift your heel and grind it hard into the top of his foot, and the Duke curses, his grip loosening. You pull away, but he manages to catch the edge of your cloak, pulling hard until you fall backwards.

The impact knocks the wind out of you, leaving you gasping and dizzy, staring up at the dark sky.

“We did not get to finish our little chat, in the garden.” He says, squatting down over you as you struggle up to your knees on the wet street. “I think we should do that now, Princess.”

Your heart pounds heavily against your ribcage as you stagger to your feet.

“No.”

“It is not a request.” He motions to the guard behind you, and he grabs you as you struggle, wrenching your arms behind you.

“Filthy witch,” he hisses, and you flinch. “You and your whore mother.”

“Gavin, your manners.” He tuts mockingly. “I would be honored, Majesty, if you would accompany me for tea.” You stare at him in silence, the rain soaking through your cloak. “If you would, Ser Gavin.” He forces you forward, and you stumble.

“It is late for tea, Lord Emhyr,” you snap, dragging your feet against the paving stones. “Perhaps a discussion with Her Majesty herself—” Ser Gavin grunts with irritation at your resistance and shoves you, hard. You stumble as the Duke makes an angry noise deep in his throat.

“I’ve little stomach for lies.”

A cold shiver winds its way up your back. You hear the threat though the words remain unspoken. The streets are deserted, and you cannot tell if it is the weather or the hour. Behind you, clears his throat.

“Here, my Lord.”

The faded, splintering sign hanging above the door reads Madam’s Tea House, though by the riotous noise coming from inside, you suspect they serve a few things little stronger than tea. Ser Gavin places a rough hand on the back of your head, forcing it down as he steers you through the doorway. Your stomach drops as your eyes adjust to the dim lighting.

The air stinks of ale, sweaty skin and something more pungent and sour that you cannot identify. There are people everywhere, draped across tables, lounging on pillows and pinned against walls in various states of undress. Your throat goes dry, at the sight of the bare-breasted women sprawled over the tables, their dresses rucked up around their waists. A woman with white painted cheeks and cherry red lips steps quickly out of the way as you are shuffled through, her eyes lowered and lips pressed into a thin line. You understand their choice of venue now—

No one will even remember you were here— and no one will remember when you are not.

As if sensing your rising panic, Ser Gavin’s hand tightens on the scruff of your neck, and with the other hand, he grasps your shoulder. On the raised dais in the center of the dim room, a woman twists lithely, scarves gripped in each of her dainty hands. Gold rings dangle from her bared nipples, matching the one in her nose. Your eyes meet and for a single moment, for a single step, she falters.

The crowd at her feet turns on her in an instant, jeering and spitting. The same men who had watched her dance with silent awe now mock her openly, insults dripping from their lips along with stray drops of ale.

“Let’s get a new girl up here. One who can remember her bloody steps!” There is no end to the praises of men when one is perfect—nor an end to their venom when you are not. The truth of it is as plain as the room Duke Emhyr and Ser Gavin force you into. There is a bed with a bare, stained mattress upon its dilapidated frame, and a wooden chair stands between it and the weak fire in the hearth.

“Sit.” Emhyr instructs you with a bored gesture, and when you do not comply, Ser Gavin squeezes your shoulder hard until you gasp from the pain of it. You lower yourself reluctantly to the chair as the Duke watches, and you get the feeling that he enjoys it, watching you be forced to heel. If not my mother, then me. Through the silence, you can hear the muted noise of the brothel outside. As uncomfortable as it is for you, you hope it is doubly so for them.

The Duke stares at you, his eyes narrowed.

“You wouldn’t see it, not at first,” he says. The disgust drips from every syllable, like he is speaking of something unsavory. “The way you favor them.”

Your heart pounds even as you feign ignorance, schooling your features into shocked offense at his words. He cannot know that this is the second time you have heard them this evening, that you are already itching to get to a mirror to confirm these revelations for yourself, because you do not even know if they are true. The memory of black blood curdling in the hearth is enough to set the uncertainty in your lead filled stomach rolling.

“I know not of what you speak, my Lord.” The words feel fragile, like they are made of glass. “There—there is still time to let this be nothing but an unpleasant misunderstanding—”

The duke stands in front of the hearth, his hand resting on the mantle. The curve of his back speaks to his weariness, and you wonder if he has been looking for you all night.

“You and your whore mother have upset the order of things quite a bit, here. Whatever other things you may be, you are not unintelligent enough not to have seen so.” He turns, the fire reddening his cheeks and setting the whit es of his beady eyes ablaze. “Two seasons of talk and courtships undone in a month—and for a woman who is too old to bear a new heir.”

“His Majesty has an heir,” you remind him. “Or have you forgotten? If you disagree with your king’s decision, you are more than welcome to challenge it before the court a second time, though Their Majesties might not be so prone to leniency given the circumstance.” His jaw tics at the reminder of his position—and yours—but the sly upturn at the corners of his mouth do not disappear.

“So the Witch does inspire loyalty in you.” He squats in front of you. “Do you know what we do to witches, in the North?” He asks, fingering the dagger at his belt. “Father Wolf is the devourer of all things. Even savages.”

“Ever since I stepped from boat to shore I have heard that word, and I cannot help but wonder,” the words pour through the gaps in your gritted teeth, and you hope he chokes on the broken glass of them—“if you have ever uttered them looking in a mirror.”

He raises his hand, as if to backhand you across your face, and you duck down hunching your shoulders to prepare for the blow. It does not land, however, and when you look cautiously up at the duke, he is staring behind you, locked above your head. There is a fourth presence in the room now, one you feel pricking at the back of your neck.

“No, no, continue.” The drawl that fills the empty room is both shocking and achingly familiar. “I would see the treason with my own eyes.” Geralt stands in the doorway, filling it to the brim with the width of his shoulders. Water drips from his sodden silver hair, though he makes no move to push it back from his face. His hand rests openly upon the sword hanging at his hip.

“That way it passes fewer lips on its way to the king.”

Duke Emhyr’s eyes go wide, and then angry.

“I protect the crown, and you call it treason,” slowly,—almost regretfully —the duke lowers his hand. “Can you not see? Can you not see how they twist—” Geralt turns his gaze to you, and somehow his golden eyes seem darker. Harder.

He came for me.

Ser Gavin fingers the pommel of his sword nervously, playing at the thought of unsheathing it, but too craven to commit. Still, he stands between you and the prince, and does not move. The duke’s rambling of treason and bewitchery continues behind you, rising to a fever pitch as you approach the door. Briefly as you turn, you see him, his face red and lips flecked with frothy spittle as he flings a long, accusing finger towards you.

“They will poison this empire, it’s people! You cannot allow them to sit the throne, it is treason to do it knowingly, you must act!” The fire burns bright in his wide eyes, and you see reflected in them the same vicious zealotry that burned in Father Rame’s. “That which is rooted in rotten soil cannot grow! I will not stand idle while we are destroyed from within.”

In the spaces between his words you can see the calculation. He’s chosen death, you realize. You taste it in the air before he speaks, the power of his decision already shaping the world around it, like chaos—but not the kind they shunned. It tastes like the air inside the chapel; the still, thick air, perfumed so that the smell of his body would not leak further than a few feet beyond his corpse.

“You know the truth of what I speak, Majesty, you must see that His Highness is not himself! He pants after the elf-bitch, like a man possessed! It is unnatural, you must—you must see it!”

Geralt’s mouth creases with anger. “I see your distrust in your King has bred treasonous discontent. I see your desire to rise above your station would have you slavering after my father’s throne like the dog you are.” He steps into the room then, and you watch as the Duke’s hand closes about the grip of the dagger strapped to his waist. “Your dedication to this fiction will cost you.”

You had not been able to see Geralt’s other hand, positioned behind him, his arm taut as though he were dragging something heavy. He steps aside, and your heart leaps into your throat as you see why—

A dead Nilfgaardian soldier lies behind him, dark liquid pooling thickly underneath his armor. The duke sees it too, his body tensing.

“If you will not serve your people, if your father will not protect them, what choice have you left me?” The duke murmurs, the words underscored by the quiet ring of steel as he unsheathes his blade. You jump up, knocking the chair over in your haste to get away from him. You trip over your skirts, stumbling forward as Ser Gavin grabs for you, his hand knotting in your cloak.

“You will let her go.” Geralt delivers the instructions as truth—no ultimatums.

“Oh, aye,” Emhyr, nods, forcing the words out through clenched teeth. “On that we agree.” You expect him to lunge for the prince, to hear the sharp clash of steel on steel, but you do not. Instead, his face fills your vision. “You may go wherever you wish, now, Lady.”

You taste death on his words and in the air, and when he steps away, his hands are empty. There is a strange coldness in your belly, and slowly, your hand drifts up to investigate. The leather grip of the dagger is warm, but the steel is cold, so cold you can feel it all the way inside. It’s strange, the way it doesn’t hurt, the way the blood does not feel hot on your trembling hands but cold—

The death Emhyr had chosen was neither his own, nor Geralt’s—but yours.

Dimly, you are aware of Geralt, of your body tucked tightly against his, the sound of steel on steel, the feel of cold rain on your face. Weakly, you lift a hand to your belly, your fingers slipping on the handle. Geralts hand closes over yours.

“You must leave it, Doe, you must. I know it hurts.” It doesn’t. You want to tell him, but you cannot find the will to move your lips. You feel your grip slacken on his cloak, your fingers releasing themselves without your permission as your vision tunnels. Geralt tells you not to close your eyes, and the words echo far off in the encroaching dark.

I have to, you think that perhaps the words escape your slack lips in a low mumble, but you cannot be sure.

Just for a little while.

to be continued…

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mononijikayu · 2 months ago

Text

chapter (3) — omg

GENRE: alternate universe - actors/celeb au!

WARNING/S: not safe for work (nsfw), r-18 and above, actors/singers au!, romance, fluff, minor angst, slow burn, humour, slice of life, will they won't they, light-hearted, flirting, playful, possessiveness, teasing, explicit content, possible, kissing, sexual content, innuendos, drama, feels, hurt/comfort, falling in love, love, happy ending, actor/singer! sukuna, actress/celeb! reader;

WORD COUNT: 3.3k words.

NOTE: i really think that if this were to happen irl, everyone would just really really lose their minds like??? genuinely. i really think that people would be entertained and also not. these are the in between of the kinktober event, which starts october 4th (6 pm pst, 9 am for ph time and 4 pm uk time) - the first one is also a sukuna one too!!! please enjoy them as they come out!!! thank you for your continued love!!! i love you all <3

TAGLIST: @kunasthiast, @midnight-138, @v3nd3ttal3on, @r0ckst4rjk, @theshxaverse, @cheescakebroom, @kariatenoh ;

masterlist

hey lover! series

IT WAS THAT SIX MONTH PERIOD THAT STUNNED THE WORLD. The internet was already on the verge of a meltdown the day it was announced that you and Sukuna were going to star opposite of each other in a new romantic drama film.

The plot? A searing, emotionally intense story about a husband and wife’s failing marriage. That alone was enough to send fans into a frenzy. The idea of you two, already known for your incredible chemistry, playing lovers on the brink of collapse was the stuff of internet gold.

Speculation ran wild for months. There were endless fan theories about how much tension would be in the movie, the inevitable blow-out arguments, and the long, charged stares across dimly lit rooms.

But the moment the real rumor started spreading—that the on-screen couple would have a full-blown romance scene—it was like gasoline was thrown on the fire.

Twitter threads were filled with fans practically holding their breath, trying to figure out if this was just clickbait or if the movie would actually go there. For weeks, fans analyzed trailers and snippets of scenes, slowing down moments to see if they could spot any clues.

There was talk of “the tension is unreal” or “there’s NO WAY they’ll pull off that scene without killing us all”. But despite the rampant speculation, nothing could have prepared them for what came next.

Then, the movie premiered. And that’s when everything exploded.

One fan was the first to drop the bombshell:

SukusukuOne Tweet: “WAIT. WHAT? A SEX SCENE BETWEEN THEM?!?!”

That single tweet ignited a wildfire across every social media platform. It took only minutes before reactions flooded in from every corner of the internet. It was as if the world collectively gasped and lost its ability to function.

Fans who had managed to watch the early screenings immediately went into panic mode, sending everyone else into spirals of anticipation.

Y/N’sWorldHQ: “I KNEW IT. I FREAKING KNEW IT BUT I WASN’T READY. NOT LIKE THIS.”

SukuY/NHQ: “BESTIES, THIS IS NOT A DRILL. THIS IS SO FUCKING REAL!!!

Y/N-Rin: We asked for tension and got THIS. I CAN’T BREATHE.”

SukunaSource: “Forget the plot—I need a minute to process what I just saw. That scene? UNREAL.”

Y/N–SUKUONE “Y’all. It’s not just a scene. It’s THE scene. They went THERE and I’m not okay.”

For Y/N: "I WAS NOT READY FOR THIS. SOMEONE HOLD ME."

Suku–king: “SUKUNA. SEX SCENE. I REPEAT: SUKUNA. SEX SCENE. WITH Y/N?!? breathes into a paper bag"

Y/N–Hiromi: "Oh, y’all are just gonna drop this bomb and leave us to SCREAM?"

Pop Star Kuna: "No, because how am I supposed to sit through that scene like a normal person? I’ll be watching through my fingers."

Y/N Movie Era: "WHO THOUGHT THIS WAS OKAY TO GIVE US THIS LEVEL OF ENERGY IN A MOVIE?!? MY WIG IS IN ANOTHER GALAXY.”

GIFs of you and Sukuna in slow, sultry close-ups began circulating within minutes. The intensity, the way the scene built from raw emotion to passionate release, left fans utterly destroyed.

People were making reaction videos, pausing the exact second the scene got too hot to handle and screaming at their screens. Thirst tweets, memes, and GIFs of fans collapsing on their couches like they’d just run a marathon became the norm.

HiroKuna: “I’M YELLING. THEY REALLY DID THAT. NO ONE TOLD ME I NEEDED OXYGEN.”

KukuNa7: “I knew it would be good, but I didn’t think it would be THIS. I feel like I need a cigarette and I don’t even smoke.”

Hiromimimi: “The way they LOOK at each other?! The rawness of it all?! This scene is pure FIRE.”

As if the internet wasn’t on fire enough, you and Sukuna decided to fuel the flames even further. You hopped on Twitter, casually posting a behind-the-scenes video of the two of you messing around in between takes.

In the shot, Sukuna was leaning back on the bed, one arm draped over his eyes, mid-laugh, while you sat there making faces at the as you got your retouching make up done. You tell him to stop, but you just both kept laughing and got scolded by the make up artist. Sukuna then calls you beautiful, and you blush.

Y/NTheOne: “When the ‘passionate scene’ turns into a blooper reel. 😂 No one tells you how hard it is to keep a straight face. #BTS #MovieMagic”

The reaction? Absolute chaos. Fans didn’t know whether to scream, cry, or laugh.

sukurin: “They’re just gonna post this like it’s no big deal??? WDYM SUKUNA CALLS HER BEAUTIFUL AND SHE JUST BLUSHES??? BRO???”

y/n’s princess: “OKAY BUT I LOVE HOW CASUAL THEY ARE ABOUT THIS. HELP.”

sukuy/n’s love child: “I’M NEVER GETTING OVER THIS. NEVER.”

kunatuna: “The fact that they’re laughing like this in between scenes, and we’re out here struggling to breathe??”

Not to be outdone, Sukuna joined in on the fun a few hours later by posting his own video on his Instagram story. The clip showed you two rehearsing the confrontation scene between the spouses and you were screaming at the top of your lungs before he made a face and you immediately break, falling into his arms and suddenly laughing as hard as humanly possible. Sukuna wrapped his arms around you too, hugging you back.

ItsRyoSuku: “Professional actors, by the way. 😂 #HappyTogether”

Cue more pandemonium:

JJK (Taylor’s Version): “NOT THEM POSTING BTS FOOTAGE LIKE THIS. STOPPPP.”

kukuna1989: “I can’t breathe. How are they this funny and attractive at the same time???”

y/n on the ring: “This video is sending me. They’re out here clowning and we’re suffering.”

y/nkunaaaaaahhhhhhhh: “I’m trying to focus on their acting, but instead I’m watching them roast themselves. THIS IS GOLD.”

kukukufukukukuku: WHAT DO YOU MEAN HAPPY TOGETHER??? RYOMEN SUKUNA????

Fan TikToks:

Y/N–Na–Na–Na: (in a shaky voice) “So, I just watched the scene… and honestly, I don’t think I’m okay. No spoilers, but if you think you can handle it—YOU CAN’T.” Cue someone throwing a pillow at the camera.

SukuPop: "There’s thirst traps, and then there’s THIS MOVIE. HOW DID WE GET HERE?"

And as if that wasn’t enough, a massive fan thread started trending on Twitter titled:

"Are They Dating or Just TOO Good at Acting?"

Enter you and Sukuna again, ready to add more and more fuel to the fire.

You once more jumped on the bandwagon with another cheeky Twitter post, sharing a behind-the-scenes photo of you both between takes. This was the alternative extension that was cut from the film — one which the director really liked. But it just didn’t make the final editing cut.

Still, the shot was perfect: Ryomen Sukuna, half-dressed from the scene, lying on the bed resting his head against your shoulder, laughing about something you said. You? Half covered in the blankets. You were looking down at him, also laughing as you were in the middle of speaking, holding onto a pillow for dear life, your hair tousled from filming.

Y/NTheOne: “Sukuna tried to hold it for this shot. But I wished this made it too! 😂 #BTS #MovieMagic"

The internet? Instantly set ablaze. ONCE AGAIN.

HiromiRyomenCentral: "OKAY BUT YOU CAN’T JUST DROP THIS AND NOT GIVE US MORE!"

KingofCursesStan: "They’re out here laughing, and I’m out here crying. MAKE IT MAKE SENSE."

Y/NStan: "Not them acting all cute and casual when we’re out here clutching our pearls. I CAN’T."

Then, of course, Ryomen Sukuna couldn’t lose here—of course, in classic Sukuna fashion.

He posted a behind-the-scenes video on Instagram of you both rehearsing the scene. But instead of being sexy and intense, it was pure comedy. The two of you were dramatically exaggerating every move, making ridiculous faces at each other.

You were both exhausted, but you both wanted to wake each other up. So, it came to this — both of you losing your minds to make everything as funny as possible. At one point, Sukuna dramatically threw himself back on the bed, rolling his eyes in a mock-swoon while you burst into giggles so uncontrollable that you doubled over.

ItsRyoSuku: “Multiverse of Madness 😂 #ItsAComedyActually"

Fans were once more losing their minds in the comments:

RyoHQ: “NOT SUKUNA TURNING THIS INTO A COMEDY SKETCH?! I CAN’T BREATHE.”

SukuRy: "I’m gonna need 48 hours to recover from the whiplash between the actual scene and THIS."

SukuStar: "Please tell me the DVD has a blooper reel. I BEG YOU."

StarStarKuna: "Y’all are just CLOWNING at this point, meanwhile I’m struggling to form a coherent thought after seeing that scene.”

The memes were iconic. Some were based on popular crying reaction GIFs, while others used dramatic slow-motion moments to parody the sheer intensity of the scene. One particularly viral meme had Sukuna’s character looking down at you in the scene with the caption: “When your favorite ship finally goes canon and it’s STEAMY AF.”

Soon, clips from the movie were being re-edited with dramatic soundtracks, making the moment between your characters feel even more cinematic, even more romantic. Someone even edited the entire scene to Celine Dion’s “It’s All Coming Back to Me Now”, and the internet practically screamed.

You and Sukuna couldn’t help but keep the fun going. A few hours later, you responded to one of the fan edits with a quote-tweet, saying:

Y/NTheOne: “Honestly, this edit is better than the actual movie. 😆”

Sukuna, naturally, followed up with a comment that sent everyone into a tailspin:

ItsRyoSuku: “Still waiting on our Grammy for ‘Best Chemistry On-Screen.’ 😏”

The internet was absolutely living for it. Fans were quick to point out every tiny behind-the-scenes moment, analyzing the body language, the laughter, and of course, the constant playful teasing between you two. Some fans even swore up and down that they knew you two had undeniable off-screen chemistry, and this was just proof.

MimiHiro67 Posted: "Look at the way he looks at her like that. I’m telling you, IT’S NOT JUST ACTING."

Kuku/Y/N Replied: "The flirting during the bloopers?? HELLO?! WE’RE SEEING IT."

HiroKunaFT Replied: "They’re out here, trolling us, but I KNOW they’re secretly dating. THEY HAVE TO BE."

Before you knew it, fan art, memes, and theories flooded every corner of the internet. There were edits of you and Sukuna as modern-day star-crossed lovers, wedding fanfics, and even whole video compilations of you two joking and messing around during interviews.

But perhaps the most hilarious reaction came from one particular fan who summed it up perfectly in a single tweet:

Y/NKunaSource: “Let’s be real. We’re all just happy to live in a world where they exist and can mess with us like this. Bless.”

By the end of the week, the internet was a beautiful mix of chaos, laughter, and way too many thirst traps inspired by that one scene. You and Sukuna continued to play along with the fans, leaning into the fun and teasing just enough to keep everyone guessing—and loving every second of it.

The chaos continued to escalate in the following days, with the internet running wild over every new detail, theory, and behind-the-scenes snippet about the two of you and your relationship. Fans were relentless, and you and Sukuna? You weren’t about to let things calm down just yet. If anything, you leaned into the frenzy, becoming the ultimate internet trolls.

It started innocently enough. You posted a cute boomerang of the two of you at a cast dinner, clinking glasses and flashing cheeky grins at the camera. You looked stunning resting against Sukuna’s chair. Harmless, right? Not according to the fanbase.

Y/NTheOne: “Cheers to being the internet’s favorite scandal 😜🍸#StillNotDating #OrAreWe?”

That was enough to send your followers spiraling into madness again. Fans combed through the boomerang as if it held secret, hidden messages. Someone even analyzed Sukuna’s scarlet eye contact in slow motion, trying to decipher what it all meant.

Sukuna’sHuh!?: “THE CHEMISTRY. I CAN’T. They’re definitely dating.”

YoHiroKuna: “Every time they say they’re ‘not dating,’ I lose five years off my life from the lies. 😂”

Kukukukuna: “Why are they like this?! Just admit it already!”

Veteran Actor Ryomen Sukuna, never one to miss out on the fun, upped the ante. He soon after posted a selfie of the two of you on set, both of you in full costume, right before filming a scene. The twist? You were sitting in his lap, giggling as he gave the camera a devilish smirk. The caption?

ItsRyoSuku: “Just another day at work with my favorite co-star, my baby doll 👀 #WeLiveForMethodActing #OrDoWe"

The comment section exploded:

SukuDw: "EXCUSE ME, SIR??? SITTING IN HIS LAP?!?"

Y/N’sbabygirl: “Method acting? Is that what we’re calling this now?? LMAO”

RyoRyoYoBoat: "My mind can’t handle this level of chaos. 😳"

Then came the real kicker. In the start of the promo junket, there was an interview shot to promote the movie. And the host, unable to resist, asked you both about that scene again. The moment the question was out there, Sukuna leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, eyes sparkling with mischief.

The host clears his throat. “So, everyone’s talking about that… intimate scene between you two. How did you prepare for it?”

Without missing a beat, Sukuna deadpanned, “Oh, we didn’t prepare at all. We just winged it. All natural chemistry. It’s just like that between me and my doll, right here.” He shot you a wink, making you snort with laughter.

You, trying to play it cool but clearly failing, added, “Honestly, I think the hardest part was not laughing through the whole thing. I mean, darling, we’re professionals, but…”

Sukuna cut in, “But when you’re this close with someone…” He leaned toward you, smirking, “… things just come naturally.”

The internet immediately combusted. Clips of the interview spread like wildfire, with fans collectively losing their minds. The phrase “all natural chemistry” trended on Twitter for hours.

JJK4HiroKuna: “’Natural chemistry’ MY HEART IS DONE.”

HiroKunaHiroKuna: "He WINKED?! IS HE TRYING TO KILL US?!"

OneY/NKunaNation: “We all just agreed they’re married at this point, right?”

Y/N–Y/NHQ: I bet the bed chem is also natural, huh?

Memes flooded every platform. One fan made a video edit of you and Sukuna’s most flirtatious moments, set to some dramatic, romantic soundtrack. The edit quickly went viral, with even more fans joining the speculation train. Soon, someone added to the thread a GIF of Sukuna winking from another project, captioning it with, “When he knows EXACTLY what he’s doing.”

The internet was already hanging by a thread after months of anticipation, memes, and wild speculation, but that night—that night—Sukuna and you delivered the ultimate bombshell that no one saw coming.

It was the end of the movie's promotional tour, and just when fans thought they had seen everything there was to see, Sukuna decided to drop a casual little Instagram story that sent the entire fanbase spiraling.

The video was simple enough at first: the two of you chilling in his trailer during a break, scrolling through Twitter and Instagram, laughing at the flood of comments, reaction videos, and memes about your on-screen chemistry.

But it was the soundtrack that immediately caught everyone's attention—George Michael’s “Careless Whisper” playing softly in the background. That instantly iconic sax riff was the setup for what was about to be an unforgettable moment. Fans knew something chaotic was coming; it was only a matter of what.

Sukuna, ever the mastermind, flipped the camera towards himself, giving a mock-serious look before turning it to you, sitting next to him on the couch, grinning like you were in on the joke.

Sukuna looks at you, smirking. “So, the rumors are true.”

That one line was enough to make everyone sit up, hearts pounding, fingers hovering over their keyboards, ready to fire off tweets. You, already sensing where this was headed, played along like the pro you were.

You raised your brow, matching his smirk. “What rumors?”

Sukuna turned his head slowly, looking directly into the camera with that signature smirk that drove fans wild. His voice dropped to a low, sultry tone, dripping with fake seriousness.

He snickers back. “The ones about us, doll.” He paused, letting the tension build, eyes twinkling with mischief. And then, with perfect comedic timing, he delivered the finishing blow. “We do love keeping people on their toes.”

That was it. That’s all it took. The fanbase erupted into chaos as the video zoomed in dramatically on both of your faces, just before you two completely lost it, bursting into uncontrollable laughter. The screen faded to black, but the internet was already ablaze.

The hashtags #TheRumorsAreTrue, #SukunaAndHisDoll, and #KeepingUsOnOurToes were trending worldwide within minutes. Memes were being generated at lightning speed, GIFs of the dramatic zoom popping up on every corner of the web. And the fan comments? Absolute gold.

HiromiSource: “WHY ARE THEY LIKE THIS?!? I CAN’T KEEP UP.”

KingofCursesHQ: “They’re literally trolling us and I LOVE IT.”

HiroKuna4Lyfe: “The fact that Sukuna just casually said ‘the rumors are true’ and then did THAT?? I’M GONE.”

Reaction videos flooded TikTok, fans filming themselves losing their minds as they watched Sukuna drop the ultimate tease. One user even posted a slow-motion edit of the zoom with captions like “My heart cannot handle this level of trolling, this is bad for me” and “They’re playing with us like it’s a sport, and I’m here for it.”

But just when you thought the chaos had peaked, Sukuna decided to throw another wrench into the mix. About five minutes after the video went live, he took to Twitter to reply to the overwhelming reactions.

@ItsRyoKuna: “Oh? Did I? Hm…..I wonder if I did?”

That tweet sent fans into a frenzy all over again. The cryptic nature, the smirk behind the words—it was peak Sukuna, and they were living for it.

HiroKuKu: “HE KNOWS WHAT HE’S DOING. STOP THIS MAN. NO DON’T.”

Pop Sensation Kuna: “’Did I?’ SIR I’M NOT OKAY WITH THIS LEVEL OF TEASING.”

YoItsKukuNa: “Sukuna’s out here stirring the pot like a pro, and I can’t even be mad.”

Of course, you couldn’t resist getting in on the fun either. A few minutes after Sukuna’s tweet, you replied:

@Y/NTheOne: “Guess we’ll never know 😏”

And that? That was the nail in the coffin. Fans went into full meltdown mode. Screenshots of your reply were immediately plastered across every fan page, each theory more dramatic than the last.

HiroY/NHQ: “NOT YOU TOO. ARE WE EVER GONNA GET A STRAIGHT ANSWER???”

SusuKuY/N: “This is literally a soap opera and I’m addicted. GIVE ME MORE.”

It’sY/N’sWorld: Y/N ITS TIME TO STOP IM GOING CRAZY

@Y/NTheOne Replied: No <3

Before long, the internet was awash in fan art, with some recreating the trailer scene in elaborate comic-book style panels, and others painting romanticized versions of your characters together, always with that cheeky, ambiguous vibe that kept everyone on edge.

The fans were even dissecting the choice of “Careless Whisper” in the background. Some insisted it was a secret code, a hint that there was something more going on between you two than just professional chemistry. Others joked that it was Sukuna’s favorite way to troll, playing the ultimate cheesy song during the ultimate tease.

HelloDoll: “Careless Whisper? REALLY?? That’s the most dramatic song choice and I’m here for it.”

JJKuna: “They’re basically telling us they’re the chaotic couple of the century and I can’t handle it.”

The memes kept coming. Someone edited a video of Sukuna saying, “The rumors are true.” then cut to fans fainting and screaming in reaction clips. Another fan took a screenshot of your zoom-in moment and slapped “I WILL NEVER RECOVER” in bold letters across it.

As the fanbase continued to spiral, Sukuna and you just watched from the sidelines, laughing at the chaos you’d unleashed. It was a perfect storm—your playful trolling, the cheeky teasing, and the undeniable chemistry that everyone loved to speculate about.

By the end of the night, the internet was convinced they’d been played in the best way possible. The mystery surrounding your relationship status was still intact, but you’d managed to make the entire ordeal one of the most memorable and entertaining situations in pop culture for your fans.

And for the fans? They wouldn’t have had it any other way.

136 notes · View notes

diorsluv · 7 months ago

Text

casual , part 9

“ i have anger issues ”

series m. list previous chapter

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by jackhughes, edwards.73, and 154,238 others

yourusername hughes-a-palooza ⁉️

tagged: lhughes_06, jackhughes, _quinnhughes

view all comments

username58 WE NEED WEEKLY HUGHES A PALOOZA POSTS

→ yourusername idk about weekly bae..

→ username47 at least monthly please 😭😭 yourusername

colecaufield quinn?!?!?!

→ _quinnhughes oh god

→ yourusername LMFAOOO

→ trevorzegras more blackmail 😈

_quinnhughes mom didn’t let you and luke sit together on planes for a reason

→ yourusername i accidentally spill coffee on him once and then all of a sudden i’m banned from sitting next to him 😔

→ lhughes_06 it was not an accident.

→ yourusername YES IT WAS??

→ jackhughes rosie i watched you PICK THE CUP UP and pour it on his lap

→ yourusername I LIE ABOUT A TON OF SHIT BUT I NEVER DID THAT????

→ _quinnhughes wtf no she just separated you because you were annoying as hell

→ lhughes_06 oh

→ yourusername erm…

username32 STOP the toy story costumes are too adorable

username77 BABY QUINN

username91 omg i need to see all the baby photo albums right now

adamfantilli so when were you gonna tell me you’ve been cosplaying since you were 3

→ yourusername it’s called dressing up for halloween 😐😐

→ adamfantilli which is technically cosplaying

→ luca.fantilli bro why are you so obsessed with cosplaying

→ rutgermcgroarty do you have something you wanna tell us adam???

→ adamfantilli 🤐

→ g.brindley4 is that why i found a red and white wig in your closet the other day??

→ yourusername MY HERO COSPLAY?? 😭

→ markestapa todoroki cosplay is insane

vivianliu ADORABLE ADORABLEEE

→ yourusername 🫶

edwards.73 the costumes r cute

→ yourusername you seem super thrilled!!!!

→ edwards.73 cuz they’re cute but you’re cuter

→ yourusername oh 😨

→ markestapa this is quite public if i do say so myself

→ lhughes_06 🤢🤢

→ mackie.samo i actually threw up reading this

→ edwards.73 mackie you’re quite literally sick right now

username85 i want my kids to be like this

username13 jim n ellen got us with the good pics ‼️

_alexturcotte did you and jack always match costumes??

→ yourusername our mom switched it every year but jack was the best costume twin 😔😔

→ _quinnhughes okay our lorax and onceler costume was good though

→ yourusername …….no!

→ colecaufield who was the lorax???

→ yourusername take a wild guess 😑

→ _quinnhughes you lost rock paper scissors fair and square yourusername

username68 BABY HUGHES PICS ALERT 🚨🚨🚨

dylanduke25 i like how you and quinn NEVER have pics together

→ yourusername i have yet to find a picture of only us in an old photo

username49 WOODY AND JESSIE AHHH

rutgermcgroarty when will you post the pics of us 😔

→ yourusername rut sweetie they’re my BROTHERS i have to post them occasionally

→ yourusername and also i just posted us???

→ rutgermcgroarty you have an entire album of us.

→ yourusername i have one for vivi too and i barely post me and her 😰😰

→ rutgermcgroarty SIX. HUNDRED. PHOTOS.

→ mackie.samo 600????

→ rutgermcgroarty 694 to be exact 😒

→ markestapa SO BASICALLY 700?!?!?!?!

→ colecaufield what happened to the other boyfriend

→ dylanduke25 yk rosie if i didn’t know who your not-boyfriend is, i would think it was rut

→ rutgermcgroarty ..duker that’s not a good thing

→ dylanduke25 i know

username62 i will be dressing my children up in toy story costumes thank you.

markestapa i’ve never heard him scream in agony so loudly before

→ yourusername wait what??? what happened to him

→ markestapa you and your little “best friend”

→ yourusername WE’RE JUST BEST FRIENDS THO

→ rutgermcgroarty yeah that’s all there is

yourusername

liked by _alexturcotte, luca.fantilli, and 97,255 others

yourusername went on a cooking rampage tn 🫢

view all comments

edwards.73 that food looks pretty good im not gonna lie

→ yourusername yeah this random guy made it for me

→ edwards.73 random???

→ yourusername mhm it was so weird.. he had the key to my apartment and everything

→ edwards.73 man i think that’s pretty unsafe rosie

→ yourusername it’s okay tho i thought he was cute so i let him stay ☺️

→ edwards.73 oh 😳

luca.fantilli LET HER COOK 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

→ yourusername aaaaaand you’re blocked

→ markestapa LET HER COOK 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

→ rutgermcgroarty LET HER COOK 😝😝😝😝😝😝

→ dylanduke25 LET HER COOK 😈😈😈😈😈😈

→ mackie.samo LET HER COOK 😼😼😼😼😼😼

→ yourusername you’re all HORRIBLE

→ luca.fantilli 😘

→ markestapa 😘😘

→ rutgermcgroarty 😘😘😘

→ dylanduke25 😘😘😘😘

→ mackie.samo 😘😘😘😘😘

trevorzegras goddamn big back lemme have some

→ yourusername ⁉️⁉️⁉️

→ jackhughes u just got clipped bro

→ _quinnhughes 📸

username75 is that… HIM??

username90 bae stop actin like you don’t know we know it’s ethan

username23 AWW cooking date so cute

_alexturcotte oh are those brownies for me 😁

→ yourusername you n trev r always trying to steal my food bro 😒😒

→ _alexturcotte what can i say ur a good cook

→ yourusername U CALLED MY PASTA SHIT

username6 stop the plating is so gourmet

colecaufield you and luke’s gf are like the same person

→ yourusername LUKE??? GF???? WHENNNNN?????? lhughes_06

→ lhughes_06 thanks a lot cole

→ yourusername EXPLAIN

→ jackhughes you know her veeeeeery well

→ yourusername VIVIAN?!?!?!

→ vivianliu oh god no 😭😭

username44 cole’s stirring up the family drama

username19 damnn those cookies r looking good girl

→ yourusername i tried to perfect my recipe 😈

rutgermcgroarty name drop the guy rn

→ yourusername dude ur acting like ur the one in the pics 🙄🙄

→ rutgermcgroarty who said i wasnt

→ yourusername i did.

→ lhughes_06 is this supposed to be a tactic to confuse everyone

→ rutgermcgroarty we’ll never know 🤫

mackie.samo when was the last time you willingly ate pizza

→ yourusername tonight 😐

→ mackie.samo because he made you do it��…… right??

→ yourusername NO he just wanted to do it so i did

adamfantilli wtf rosie i just looked at the boys gc and hes literally obsessed with you

→ yourusername um 😃

→ adamfantilli NOT LIKE THAT

→ adamfantilli but he’s just being a big pussy rn

→ yourusername that’s what they’re all saying 🙄🙄

→ edwards.73 DUDE you gotta stop leaking the gc convos

→ luca.fantilli fr it’s unacceptable

→ yourusername stfu luca u sent me screenshots like two days ago

→ rutgermcgroarty TRAITOR luca.fantilli

→ yourusername and u just gave me ur phone to scroll through rutgermcgroarty

→ mackie.samo as the spokesperson i’d like to say we’re kicking u all out

→ adamfantilli NO PLEASE

→ rutgermcgroarty WE’LL DO ANYTHING

→ luca.fantilli WAIT PLEASE FORGIVE US

_quinnhughes so as your older brother it’s my job to steal your food

→ yourusername 🫤

→ _quinnhughes and we’re playing the wings tomorrow so i will be stopping by and stealing half the stuff in your fridge

→ yourusername thanks for the warning asshole

→ _quinnhughes any time u little shit

→ jackhughes hey that was my nickname for her 😞

→ lhughes_06 i thought i was the little shit????

→ vivianliu how did you guys manage to go from posting each other to arguing over who was the little shit 😭😭

username7 forearms 😵‍💫😵‍💫

liked by yourusername

username30 get urself a man who will have cooking dates with u 🙌

lhughes_06 u make enough food to feed the entire family

→ yourusername mom taught me well 🤗

→ lhughes_06 but u literally never fed me when we lived together??

→ yourusername yes. i. did.

→ jackhughes lukey says u “NEVERRRR” fed him

→ yourusername HOW DO U THINK HE GOT SO FUCKING TALL

→ _quinnhughes mom and dads genes

→ yourusername bc i’ve been feeding him HALF of my food every time he walked into the damn room

→ yourusername SINCE WE WERE 14

→ jackhughes ur not wrong

→ yourusername no shit

username13 girlll im tryna cook like u

username9 cutiessss 💕

username27 babe ima need u to hard launch alreadyyy

vivianliu rosie.

→ yourusername vivi.

→ vivianliu i know you cook and bake when you’re stressed or anxious

→ yourusername whatttt no

→ vivianliu is it about him 🤨

→ yourusername no!

→ vivianliu mmmmmkay

notes ) she’s a bit of a short one BUT HERES TO THE STARS’ SATURDAY NIGHT WIN AND THE WIN FROM TN ‼️ the stress was fucking insane and my heart was BEATING but we did it 🙏 a celebratory chapter if you will

tags: @dancerbailey3 @hughesfein @loveforaugust @alwaysclassyeagle @love4ldr @inhoodmood @bunting58 @crazycat-ladys-blog @smoooore @bunbunbl0gs @lilasianmeat

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