#also my hair came out so good. if only my buns could look like that all the time

[thinkinonsense]

old!logan and his obsession with the cute diner girl *mdni

a/n: this is my first attempt at writing something smutty so if it sucks im sorry lmao also if any writers have any tips please share! :)

logan has been around for long enough to know when a woman is attracted to him. there was a certain essence given off that was always a dead giveaway. usually it came from women close to the age he looked like and it tended to be brief moments of lust before all hope was lost. this was until he met you.

the pretty young girl working at the diner during her time off from college. everyday, he came in and ordered a black coffee. the coffee wasn't even that good but logan would spend two dollars every single day of his life if it came with the view of you bending over in that tiny uniform skirt.

logan would watch you for hours while he drank and skimmed the news paper alone in a booth. your hair was always up in either a ponytail or held together with a hair clip. he loved seeing your pretty handwriting as you scribbled on your notepad, taking orders. it was part of your job to be nice to everyone but you were especially nice to him. even your friends began to notice how you would linger by his table, constantly topping off his coffee mug and making small talk; sometimes giving him a slice of cherry pie on the house.

"don't you think he's kinda old for you?" one of your friends whispers to you behind the counter.

it's stung but you suppose she had a point. what would a man old enough to be your father want with a young wild girl like yourself?

"i-i guess so?" you stuttered, embarrassed at your previous attempt at flirting with him.

the rest of the night, you hoped he would leave before close so you could have some time alone with your feelings. summer was almost over and you would go back to the city soon. it was time to forget these silly fantasizes.

by ten, all the other waitresses went home except you, the older woman in the back who counted the drawer every night, and a few of the cooks. the only customer still there was logan. he flipped through one of the books he brought with him; still sipping away at that damn coffee.

"isn't it getting a little late for you, sweetheart?" he asked nonchalantly, not even looking up at you as you bent over to scrub the table next to his. the fifth table you've cleaned in the last hour and the second time you've cleaned that specific table. logan noticed but you didn't.

"need the hours." you mumble, frustrated by a stubborn stain. all logan could focus on was your scrunched nose and how your tight top pushed your boobs together just right for his viewing. "college is fucking expensive plus grants and scholarships only cover so much."

"hmm.." logan grunts. grants? scholarship? what a goody fucking two shoes, logan thought to himself. "if you bring me piece of pie, i think i can help you out."

you lean off the table and go get what's left in the glass container. it's probably a little hard so you definitely didn't plan on charging him for it. you sit the plate down in front of him and before you could turn around to walk away, logan reaches for your wrist softly.

"join me." he offers.

you knew you shouldn't but what was really the harm? at least your friends weren't here to make fun of you. the radio played quietly on an older station while you watched logan take a bite of the pie.

"why did your friends leave you here alone?" he asked, watching your face turn sour at the memory of them.

"don't wanna talk about it." your voice was small in the empty diner.

"why? think an old man like me can't relate to it?" logan chuckles. your thighs squeeze together without thinking. so much for not embarrassing yourself.

"no, no, not that." you shake your head and a strand of hair falls from your bun. "just sort of juvenile, you know?"

logan could tell that you were trying to come off more mature around him. you didn't want him to see you as some college kid.

"juvenile, how?" he eggs on, pushing down his glasses a bit.

god, those glasses got to you; and logan knew it.

"they don't understand how i feel about someone." you sigh.

"how do you feel about this person?" logan noticed you now avoiding his gaze, not liking it one bit. "eyes on me, princess."

the nickname caught you off guard like a dear in headlight; blinking and trembling up at logan. something logan enjoyed very much and could get used to.

"it's not important, just some stupid crush." you lie through your teeth. "they will forget about me in a month."

"why don't you think it'll work?" he cocks his head to the side a bit. "you're a pretty young thing, dollface. anyone of those college boys would be lucky to be wrapped around your little finger."

"i don't want college boys." you mumble, slightly annoyed by the memory of your friends.

logan felt himself getting hard at you admitting you had a taste for someone older. his eyes grew dark as he leaned in a little over the table.

"then what do you want?"

your moment to answer was interrupted by the older woman from the back, releasing you to go home for the evening. this was your chance to get up and leave before you admitted anything else that you would regret.

both of you stood up. logan threw down some cash while you went to collect your stuff behind the counter.

"i'll see you tomorrow, lo-"

"you didn't answer the question."

"i must go now if i want to catch the last train."

logan worried about you taking the train back to your apartment alone this late at night. usually you drive back but your car has been in the shop for almost three days now. he would watch you get to your car every night to make sure you were safe.

"i can drive you home." logan offers.

you shouldn't be this excited to be sitting in a strangers truck alone at night but here you were. the two of you sat in silence for a few minutes before logan brought up the conversation from the diner again. what did you even want?

"i want someone who understands me..." you begin rattling off the first things that come to mind when you notice logan's hand on your knee. you don't dare move.

"someone who is responsible..." with every word, his hand creeps higher and higher up your skirt. logan is more than pleased when he notices your legs spread on their own.

"someone who is m-mature..." logan's fingers inch towards the delicate skin of your inner thigh. there's no way this was happening, you thought as his index finger plays with the lace on the center of your pink underwear. he smirked at the wet spot front and center, waiting for him.

"treats me r-r-right." every word was a struggle to form as he stroked you softly. back and forth. back and forth.

logan nods along, not letting up down below. his index finger hooks onto your underwear, pulling it aside. you weren't even sure if you were breathing at this point; all this teasing was torture.

"p-p-please, logan..." you whine. "touch me."

his thumb rubs tiny circles on your button, adoring the way his name pours from your glossy lips. your hands fly to his wrists, needing more; nails digging into his skin in the most delicious way.

"where did this greediness come from?" logan groans, dipping his index finger inside of you. "what happened to that good girl from the diner?"

logan's finger barely fit in the tight space. your head fell back and a loud moan escaped you.

"oh, you weren't letting those college boys touch you at all, huh?" logan mocks, adding another finger and creating a steady pace.

"n-no!" you whine, lifting your hips a little.

"you were waiting for a real man to have his way with you, isn't that right, pretty girl?" he growls, pushing your hips back down.

you completely missed logan pulling off to the side of the road until now. his pace increases becoming rather rough now that he isn't driving. logan leaves deep purple bruises down your neck and across your chest, praising you to no end until you gush around his fingers, completely soaking his palm.

your heart pounded like you had just finished a marathon. logan allowed you to catch your breath as he carefully removed his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth to lick clean. he can feel your dazy eyes staring at him as he does so, making a real show of it.

"i've been wanting to do that for months now." he admits with a smirk.

"me too." you said, leaning forward and pulling him into a kiss; tasting yourself on his lips and tongue. logan wraps his hands around your hair, pulling you back a little when another moan falls from your lips.

"and we aren't even close to being done."

[yaymiyas]

ISEKAI!YANDERE!CROWN PRINCE INTRODUCTION

warning: female reader, his name is saer…just so you can follow a bit lol, isekai lol

a/n: it’s structured a bit differently than my other introductions, do note that yes this is x reader but you had gotten isekai’d into a novel so….i do say her name but…..you’re also you…..if that makes sense, also he is hardly in it but its like….an introduction to the story bc its…an isekai and i needed to layout how i wanted everything to be

its not like you didn’t realize something was up. bright white lights blind you right when you open your eyes. maids coming in and out, calling you ‘miss’ and telling you not to sit up because ‘it will harm you even more’. granted, you were very thankful for their words because, around ten minutes before they came in, you attempted to sit up and gave yourself a headache. even though nobody was explaining anything, you remained quiet, trying to gather as much information from the surrounding maids as possible. the red-haired one with tight curls and an everlasting smile was amanda. she seemed to like you much, more than the other two, and tended to you more carefully. maybe she was your personal maid,or maybe she was just good at her job, but she never let up and called you your ‘name’.

admittedly, none of the other two maids called you your ‘name’ either. it was all just ma’am or miss from them. you just expected a hint of your identity from amanda, based solely on her care for you. selfish? maybe but you needed more hints. the other maids are named cynthia and tilly. the former of the two had long black hair slicked into a low bun, with a small maids hair on top to finish the look. it was a cute detail, if you must say, since the other two didn’t wear them. cynthia hardly spoke above a shout, coming off as more soft-spoken than the other two. she wasn’t really rude, nor did she have an attitude while tending to you, but she wore an expression of indifference that made you think she would rather do anything else.

tilly, on the other hand, was more bold than the other two. still not outwardly rude, but she tested your patience a few times. the main one that got to you though, was when she was rubbing your face. while she was washing off your face with the washcloth, she rubbed against your cheeks too hard, and upon this ‘realization’ she gave you a malevolent grin. her thin lips formed an o shape, mimicking the action of saying ‘oops’. luckily, it seemed as if amanda and cynthia didn’t really care for this ‘prank’ of hers. they both scoffed in disgust, continuing to pick out outfits for me to wear for the day ahead.

a soft but stern knock was heard at the door, revealing a man with black slick back hair and yellow eyes to put the look all together. he reminded you of those webtoon male leads that were cold but female audiences loved. being a sucker for those types, you raised your neck up, making sure to keep your body in the same supine position. the man standing at the foot of your bed looked down at you with an expression that you couldn’t read. an expression that wasn’t scary but wasnt welcoming. tapping along the footboard of the bed, he let out a low sigh out that resembled a growl and turned around to leave. tilly, amanda, and cynthia didn’t acknowledge the man. neither did he to them. the only thing that could resemble an interaction between the four of them was when tilly and amanda gave small bows and the slight side eye cynthia gave before going back inside your closet to look for something.

“madam,”

thats a new one.

“lord saer would like you to have breakfast with him today.”

lifting your head enough to turn your focus towards amanda, you started to guess your facial expression was a bit too expressive because amanda started to giggle. the pain in your body wasn’t really high; it was more the numbness that bothered you. moving your neck and head didn’t really take much strength, it was attempting to move your legs that was the problem. walking towards you in a shift movement, amanda placed the rich, deep purple hair piece down on top of the dress set she had picked out for you. upon arrival, she softly removed your blanket and shifted your body into a sitting position. you felt like a doll.

“okay now miss, i will be lifting you up to wash you now.”

placing her right arm underneath the backs of your knees and her left arm supporting your neck, she quickly moved you to the area you’re assuming was the bathroom. the door to the large room was already open, since once she had lifted you up, cynthia had pushed the door open and walked in herself. the room was massive, twice the size of a normal person’s kitchen. the walls and floor tiles were both the same shade of pale pink, matching the sleeping set you had on. amanda sat you down in a chair and started to strip you down. while she was doing that, the other was running the bath water and testing if it was safe enough. every time the water was a bit too hot or too cold, you saw cynthia’s eyes squeeze shut.

“alright madam edina,”

cynthia sighed, standing up from the clam shaped tub.

“it’s all set for you. please do not make it hard as you have always done.”

not sparing you even a small look, she and amanda were already picking you up and guiding you into the tub. quietly instructing you to lay back, wet, cold liquid found its way both on your scalp and on your legs. edina? are you sure thats what she said? the only edina you knew of was the villainess from the hit novel “obsession falls”. you never really read the book, but you knew of the characters and the content that surrounded it. it was rather controversial for how obsessive and dangerous the male lead was. he had stalked the female lead for years, and it didn’t stop once he got married. with a wife so dismissive and uninterested, the male lead was given all the time in the world to go hunt his prey.

unfortunately for him, once edina randomly started to care about what her husband was doing during the day he had to slowly stop. losing the love of his life to the second male lead, alastair. due to this very random string of events, saer had grown irritated by the events his wife was clumsily stringing together. he then decided to take care of his wife, edina. the night before he was to go and kill alastair, he had poisoned the dinner he had helped make for his wife. from your memory, this was one of the few times in years he had asked his wife to sit at the table and eat with him. she would usually just take her food into her room separately. this night, edina came into the dining room with her most expensive jewelry and dress. she thought this was the night her husband was going to admit his faults and leave the female lead for her. however, what actually ended up happening was that the moment she took a bite out of her steak, her vision went black and her head banged on the table.

focusing on the soft brushes of your hair, you start to put the pieces together. you don’t remember the faces of any of the characters in the story, you just remember the basic blot and conflict. if what cynthia said was true, that you are in fact edina tudor gwynn then that means the reasoning for your stiff body was because of your ‘husband’ trying to kill you. sharply sucking in some air, you seek strength within your legs. even though the lower half of your body was still partially numbed, the feeling of pins and needles filled the tip of your toes to the back of your knees. not wanting to cause much of a scene, even though you were sure she wouldn’t care much, you looked up to check to see if your maid was paying you any mind. cynthia was too focused on rinsing your body, while amanda stopped brushing your hair to grab towels for you.

“cynthia,”

it was amazing how you could even get that out. due to the affects of the poison, your throat had become overly dry and it hurt you to even swallow. that was mainly one of the reasons as to why you hardly spoke to them this morning. stopping in her tracks, she lazily turned her head into your direction. the woman didn’t have much of any emotion on her face. her eyelids halfway down, making it appear that she was tired or just bored. her lips were in a thin line. you had hardly seen her smile or really speak, so you started to believe this was just how her resting face looked like.

“why did he poison me?”

tilting her head a bit, cynthia’s facial expression changed. it was as if your question intrigued her. her low eyelids raised a bit, along side her eyebrows, as she tried to tame the smile that was creeping on her thin lips. this was the most expressive you have ever seen her. she began to part her lips when amanda came back through the door with the towels.

“perhaps this conversation will need to be revisited, my lady.”

[lordprettyflackotara]

till dawn || eyeless jack || bonus part

SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+. tw: this is unfortunately very fluffy as well as smutty. if you came here for raw intense fucking wait until i release my new one shot with ej called huntin’ wabbitz. this is for the till dawn girlies ONLY. enjoy <3

“Why are we doing this again?”

Jeff’s voice was harsh, raising the question Ben had as well. The blonde stood in front of Jack, attempting to gracefully finish tying the demons bow tie. “Well Jeff in human culture weddings are a symbolic ceremony of love and unconditional commitment,” Ben explained, not glancing up at the pale killer. Somehow your request of a wedding had managed to get every creep dressed up, including Jacks friends.

Jeff went to run his fingers through his ash black hair, frowning once he realized it was in a man bun. “Yeah no I obviously have that part down pat. But I meant why are we doing this? We aren’t exactly humans anymore you know,” Jeff pointed out. Ben smiled as he finished adjusting Jacks bow tie. The sapphire blue suited him the best, according to Clockwork anyways.

“You are aware she’s a human right?” Ben asked. Jeff sighed, refraining himself from face palming. “As everyone has been talking about for the past twenty four hours, yes I am aware she’s a human,” Jeff answered. Ben went to defend you further, Jacks voice interrupting the blonde.

“We’re doing this because it’s what she wants.”

Believe it or not, Jack was apprehensive about the whole thing. It wasn’t the ceremony he feared or the social pressure to lift his mask to kiss your sweet lips. It was having you around so many creeps at once. The residents at Slender’s mansion had grown accustomed to your presence. You became just another resident, killer or not. Even the proxies had grown fond of you, initially pushing back on your stay due to your mortality. It may not have been a life they would’ve chosen for themselves, but you had proved time and time again your love for Jack prevailed all doubts.

It was also highly convenient to have someone able to grocery shop without a swat team being called.

You hadn’t outright come out and said you wanted marriage to Jack, but he was no fool. The magazines left out with pages of rings and dresses. Weddings were apart of your kinds culture and more importantly, they meant something to you. It wasn’t long after that Jack bribed Hoodie into helping him rob a jewelry store to get as many rings as they could carry. What else was he supposed to do? He didn’t know your ring size and he couldn’t possibly acquire the knowledge and be inconspicuous at the same time.

Word of your engagement spread like wildfire, the concept alone unheard of. Creeps from all over, including the Trenderman mansion, had been invited per your request. You had never met Laughing Jack, Jason the toy maker, Candypop, etc. Yet, you wanted all of them there for your special day. Jack thought it was touching once he put aside all of his fears about having that many immortal psychopaths around you. The main reason every creep turned up to your wedding was simple: you were human.

Outside of proxies, the supernatural haze that imbedded itself into creeps. It slowed down their aging, kept their bloodlust prevalent. Many of them didn’t even recall their human life. If they even had one to begin with. The idea alone that someone like you, could love someone endlessly like them was incomprehensible. This resulted in every creep on the planet to attend, that fact alone making Jack more nervous.

Slenderman had high expectations of his residents, ensuring that although unhinged they would maintain a stable and respectable behavior. Many of the creeps attending, including X-Virus and Nina the killer, were highly unpredictable. In the back of his mind he doubted that he would be able to protect you from all of them.

“Dude you should sit down, you don’t look so good,” Ben said, guiding him to sit down on the end of the bed. It was rare Jack had his mask off and it was most certainly non negotiable during the ceremony. But here in his bedroom with his (whether he’d admit it or not) best friends, he felt comfortable enough to take it off. Just for a moment. “You look kinda pale,” Jeff said, helping Ben guide Jack to sit down. The demon stifled a laugh. “Yeah you’re one to talk casper,” He chuckled.

Jeff rolled his eyes, a knock on the door interrupting a comeback that threatened to roll off of his tongue. The pale killer answered the door, revealing you. You were mesmerizing, the white dress Jane and Clockwork helped you acquire fitting you perfect. “I’d like a moment alone with Jack, if y’all don’t mind,” You say. Ben and Jeff exchanged glances. “Isn’t there some tradition about not seeing the bride until-” Jeff began, Ben’s hand planting a sharp slap on his shoulder.

“Hey dude what the fuck-”

Ben grabbed Jeff’s suit sleeve, dragging him towards the door. “Message received, see you guys at the ceremony,” He chimed cheerfully, a confused and mumbling Jeff trailing behind him. You could hear grumbling about Ben tearing the suit, the complaining making you giggle. You stepped inside, shutting the door behind you. Jack was eager to be beside you, approaching you quickly.

“Hi there,” You greeted, giving him a genuine smile. Upon seeing your face he began to relax, the dark gray color returning to his face. “You look absolutely stunning my mate,” Jack purred, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The sound of chatter from the hallway made Jack jump, pulling you behind him. He recognized the voices to belong to Laughing Jill and Kate the chaser, two creeps he did not trust. His gaze was centered on the door, your soft hand grabbing his arm.

“Jack, I need you to relax,” You say softly. Your voice was like warm honey, temptation threatening him to look away from the door. How could he protect you if he wasn’t ready? You walked around him, looking up at him as he towered over you. “EJ seriously, it’s okay. I’m okay,” You told him. Jacks gaze finally broke from the door, the sound of the girls straying off in the distance. “It’s hard to focus when there’s so many of my kind around. You’re not a proxy you know, you don’t have Slender’s unlimited protection,” Jack explained. His eyebrows furrowed as you admired his suit, rubbing his fingers over the suit jackets fabric.

“Maybe not. But I have yours, Jeffs, Ben’s, the proxies, Jane’s grown to like me I think, oh and Smiley,” You replied, giving him a small smile. Jacks eyebrows furrowed, tilting his head to the side. “You really think we could take on all of them and win?” He questioned. You giggled. You took his large hand, guiding him over to the window. You gestured for him to look outside, the creeps all taking their seats and talking. “This isn’t a war EJ. They’re not here to kill me. They’re here to celebrate,” You say. Jack watched as Smiley chased Sally around the yard, Slender and Trender caught up in a telepathic conversation at the podium.

Where the fuck did they get a podium?

“I guess what i’m trying to say is that you worry too much. Your friends like me right? So will they,” You told him, tucking your hair behind your ears. Jack contemplated your reasoning, glancing down and spotting the bloody painter. “You invited the bloody painter?” Jack questioned. You followed his gaze, spotting him talking to X-Virus. “I guess? Does it matter?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. Jack inhaled sharply. The last time he saw the Bloody Painter it ended in a bloody brawl. No pun intended.

“He’s just uh, not my favorite person on the planet,” Jack answered dryly. His gaze was locked onto him, refusing to shift away. You grabbed Jacks chin, guiding him to look at you. “I don’t like the idea of him seeing you. Being near you,” Jack admitted. It was something primal, something he couldn’t shake off. You were his mate and an enemy was prancing around his territory. “Guess you should show him who I belong to then,” You suggested, biting your bottom lip.

Jack could hear your heart skip a beat, a smile creeping across his face. “Oh you naughty little thing,” He whispered, bringing his lips to yours. Jack was never soft or gentle, but he tried his hardest to be so he didn’t ruin the dress. His kisses were hungry and desperate, his primal instincts ensuing. “How long do we have until the ceremony starts?” Jack asked, his lips refusing to stray from yours. You giggled, lying down on his bed. “Oh I don’t know, maybe till dawn?” You teased. Jack pounced on top of you, giving you a small smile.

“Need to know how much time I have with you love,” He purred, his breath hot against your ear. The sensation made you shudder in pleasure, your body igniting itself on fire. “Maybe twenty minutes?” You guessed. Jacks hands slowly pulled up your tight dress before cupping your drenched heat. “Okay maybe thirty,” You groaned. He could feel your dampness through your lacey white panties, the feeling alone euphoric. “Tsk tsk. Dressed so pure when you know I stole that purity long ago,” Jack hummed, teasingly dragging two fingers up and down your slit.

You whined, your hips bucking upwards. “Jack we don’t have time for teasing,” You say, eager to feel him. The demon above you quietly snickered, pushing your panties to the side. “It’s our wedding, they can wait,” He said, dropping to his knees. He dragged you by your thighs to the end of the bed, playfully licking up your thigh. “Jack please,” You whined, running your fingers through his hair. You tugged harshly at the roots, trying to drag him to your cunt. “So desperate,” Jack murmured before diving into your folds.

You could never explain or process the euphoria his three tongues provided. Two would shove themselves inside of you, scissoring your walls to stretch you out as much as they could. The third would attach itself to your clit, stimulating the bud as much as possible. It was an indescribable feeling, one that always made you moan and pant like a wild animal. Jack had purposefully gave you head everyday for a month, just to train the muscles in his tongues to be able to fuck you better.

As much as you were hesitant, it paid off.

“Fucking shit, Jack!” You moaned, throwing your head back as his large hands pried your thighs open. A primal growl rumbled in the bottom of his throat, his gaze centered on watching you fall apart. His tongues curled to begin abusing your g spot, your back arching off of the bed. You yanked at his locs, trying to pry him away from your aching cunt. You bit your bottom lip. “Jack if you keep that up you’re going to get very wet,” You threatened, your face turning red. You always got embarrassed of your bodies natural functions, Jack noticed. He didn’t see the point. He had seen every part of you and adored every nanometer.

You also had squirted on his fingers, tongues, and cock more times than he could count. How you orgasmed didn’t matter to him. He smirked as he continued his motions, your thighs trembling in his grasp. You whimpered as you came, your juices squirting across his face. You could feel your face growing hot, some of Jacks suit jacket soaked. He leaned back, your juices coating some of his clothing. He could hear your heart practically pounding against your rib cage.

“Goddammit-” Inhale. “Jack-” Exhale. “Your suits now all wet,” You sighed, trying to swallow as much air as possible Jack on the other hand was gleaming with pride, helping you rise to your feet. “It’ll dry. Besides, I think it’s pretty fucking hot,” He purred. He brought you over in front of his full length mirror, bringing your hands to either side of it to hold yourself up for support. “You look so beautiful, just watch yourself crumble for me,” Jack ordered. You could hear the clinking of his belt, the demon then wrapping his arms around your waist.

The height difference was one that couldn’t be ignored. Originally you didn’t think it would be possible for Jack to fuck you standing. That was of course until one eventful morning in the shower made it possible. All he had to do was pick you up and guide you down onto his cock. He did just that, watching you awkwardly balance on your tip toes to stay standing. As many times as you took him it always felt the same, your walls spasming around him as you struggled to take his girth.

“You’re doing so well for me beautiful, now open your eyes and watch,” Jack purred, placing a kiss on the side of your head. You felt him bottom out inside of you, the bulge of his cock visible through your dress. You whimpered as he let you adjust to him, his ears twitching at the sound of your heart beat. It always sped up when he first entered you, creating an addicting sympathy he wanted to hear forever. He swallowed as his gaze fell down to your neck, the urge to cover you in marks ensuing.

Jacks large hands grabbed your hips, slowly guiding you up and down his cock. “Fucking- fuck,” You moaned, struggling to keep your eyes open. Jack couldn’t control himself as he thrusted into you, his mind emptying entirely. “Such a good mate for me, taking me like this,” He panted. He licked the tender side of your neck, a chill running down your spine as he continued to fuck you. “You like this huh? Being used like my own personal fleshlight?” Jack chuckled darkly. Your head fell forward, your eyes screwing shut.

“Oh don’t get all shy on me now. Look at yourself,” Jack ordered. He slithered one hand up to your face, forcing you to look up. “Watch as I breed you mate. Fucking watch,” Jack rambled, grinning as your lips puckered out like a fish. Your noises were sinful, Jack couldn’t help but have an egotistical sense of pride. You could feel your second orgasm coming, your hands grabbing onto Jacks arm.

“J-Jack i’m gonna cum,” You panted. Jack’s hand slithered to your throat, squeezing the airway. “Not yet mate, wait for me,” He ordered. He continued to snap his hips into yours, your body beginning to shake as you tried to listen. “F-f-fuck I can’t-” You rambled. You moaned as you felt him choke you harder. “Awe you wanna cum so badly? Go on, cum. Cum on my fucking cock,” Jack huffed. The cord inside of you snapped, your body trembling as Jack came undone inside of you. Cumming anywhere besides deep in your cunt was out of the question, your pussy often dripping with his seed.

For a brief moment Jack held you in place, enjoying the feeling of your abused walls settling down around his shaft. “EJ?” You panted, still dazed. Your fingertips traced over the bulge that showed through your stomach. “Yeah?” Jack hummed. He wiped your smudged eye makeup, trying to clean you up without taking you off of his cock. “We’re still supposed to be getting married you know,” You chuckled. Jack playfully sighed, rolling his non existent eyes. He lifted you off of him, your bare feet hitting the wooden floor.

You turned around, pressing your lips to his. You smiled into the kiss, Jacks hands going to help you fix your dress. “How kind of you good sir,” You say teasingly, both of you letting out a genuine chuckle. A loud knock made both of you jump, Jacks eyebrows furrowing.

“Guys i’m not going to come in I know what you guys are up to but everyone’s hungry can you come get married already?” Ben asked. Jack quickly redressed himself, the two of you making sure the other was presentable. Once you both were properly dressed Jack opened the door. Ben’s eyes were buried in his hands. “Ben you can look at us you know,” Jack said, reaching over to his nightstand and grabbing his mask. The blonde shook his head. You stuck your head out from behind Jack.

“You really don’t wanna see me naked?” You asked curiously. You couldn’t help but burst into a fit of giggles as Ben quickly looked at you. Jack went to hit him, the blonde dodging his hit. “You gotta be faster than that Jacky boy,” He said teasingly, running down the hallway. Jack looked at you, his blue mask secured to his face. You stood on your tippy toes, pressing a kiss to his mask before encouraging him, “Go get em tiger, i’ll make sure the bridal party is ready.”

The bridal party in question was standing in beside the alter. Toby was your maid of honor, the ticking time bomb the most excited out of the three of them. Masky and Hoodie on the other hand, could not believe you roped them into this. “They’re fucking right now aren’t they?” Masky asked. Their gazes fell on Jack chasing Ben across the yard. “Maybe Ben got a peak, lucky man,” Hoodie snickered. Masky elbowed his partner, rolling his eyes. “They’re going on a honeymoon right? We’re never gonna get any sleep if they stay here after this is over,” Masky grumbled. They watched as Jack tackled Ben, the two tumbling to the ground.

“Where could they even go for a honeymoon?” Hoodie questioned. Toby waved cheerfully as you walked out of the back door. “They’re going to a remote cabin Slender got for them, isn’t that sweet?” He asked, smiling as you wobbled across the yard. Masky and Hoodie exchanged glances before resuming a calm facade. “Ten dollars says she’s pregnant by the time she gets back,” Hoodie said immediately. Masky grabbed a twenty dollar bill out of his pocket and showed it to his friends. “Make it twenty, not physically possible,” Masky replied. He raised his eyebrows as he watched Ben climb Jack like a jungle gym, the two in a petty brawl.

“They are aware they’re supposed to be getting married right now right?” Hoodie asked, watching as you smiled and greeted Laughing Jill and Jack. Masky sighed, reaching in his pocket and grabbing a box of cigarettes. “You can’t do that! This is a sacred ceremony!” Toby gasped, his head twitching to the side. Masky dug around in his suit pockets for a lighter. “Yeah yeah it’ll be fine kid. How long are we required to be here anyways? Boss was pretty vague with us,” Masky asked. Toby’s smile was cheerful as Hoodie handed Masky a lighter.

“He said till dawn.”

[shotmrmiller]

currently doing one of my most hated chores which is laundry and it got me thinking.

It's bloody laundry day again. You've got no extra clothes to really wear apart from a loose, grey, too thin pajama shirt and the shorts it came with.

Tragic, but not the end of the world. No one goes to wash their clothes looking like they're right off the runway. And it's also far too early for the laundromat to be packed.

You'll survive.

Slamming your trunk closed, you straighten and wipe the sweat that's beaded on your forehead. Damn muggy air. Even at this hour, the weather chooses violence.

Pulling the door open, you step inside and hiss out a breath through your teeth. In here it's not any better. And there's only one big fan on, out of the many that are in here.

God you hate laundry day.

At least it looks empty.

Tucking your hair away in a makeshift, sloppy bun, you drag your dirty clothes basket to a washer and throw them in.

Next is your detergent and when you pick up the fabric softener, it's almost empty.

God fucking damnit.

And the person that sells stuff isn't in behind the desk.

Slamming the lid closed, you kick your hamper into against the washer and walk toward the cursed fan that probably only circulates the hot ass air in here. But with the way your pathetic shirt is turning damp and sheer from the sweat, and short strands of hair that are starting to glue themselves to the back of your neck, worse is nothing.

And then you're standing in the corner of the laundromat, getting hot air weakly blown into your flushed face. "Goddamn it's hot. Useless fucking fan is just here for decor, i think."

"Ah think so too."

You choke back a scream and spin on the balls of your feet to the deep, accented voice behind you.

A muscular pretty boy with hair the color of damp soil and blue eyes that sparkle brightly, even under the dim light of the place sits with his back to a washer that's currently going.

Devastatingly handsome. And you've been throwing a hissy fit for the past half hour, only to appear in front of him resembling a drowned rat.

Flatlining right now would be great.

"Damned hot in here, alrigh'. Isnae tha' so, Simon?"

Who? Oh no.

How you missed that behemoth is beyond you, but he rises from the ground like a slumbering giant. Ash brown choppy hair and dark, sharp eyes with the rest of his face covered by a black cloth mask. 6'4 at least, and built like bloody fridge.

Someone kill you now.

"Johnny."

His piercing eyes cut to you before flicking back to the man on the floor.

"Get the detergent."

"Aye." Scottish, it sounds like.

You briskly walk away from them two, face burning with embarrassment, back to the washer you're using.

Today of all days, you come across these two. You could cry, honestly.

They're there for as long as you are, and you've long since gotten past your self-consciousness. If you have to melt in this stifling heat for one more second, you just might scream.

You grab your clothes from the dryer with haste, haphazardly throwing them in your basket and with a quick, 'Have a good day!', you're out the door.

As you're about to get in your car, the scot comes bustling out the front door of the laundromat.

"Lass! Ah think these're yers."

What he holds in his hands has tears springing into your eyes.

Undergarments. Why the hell is he-

You can see the tall brit leaning on a machine, with his arms crossed and he's looking right at you.

The walk of shame to the pretty one is almost unbearable. Your trembling hand reaches for your garment. "Thank you."

He chuckles under his breath. "Anytime. See ye around."

How mortifying.

[coquettepascal]

felicitas and her general

summary: general acacius has caught your attention after being the first mortal to worship you in decades. you only face one challenge: don't get too attached.

warnings: rated g, contains spoilers for gladiator ii, follows the timeline of the movie somewhat, reader is the goddess felicitas (who is the goddess of good luck,) this fic is basically just an add on to the movie.

tags: goddess!reader x general acacius, emotional infidelity, lots of roman mythology stuff, writer is basing all her knowledge out of what she remembers from PJO and HoO, worship, complicated feelings, marcus does not cheat on lucilla physically, yearning, pining, grieving, guilt, major character death(s), stalking (kind of), a lot of obsession/dedication, angst, hurt no comfort but also hurt with comfort.

a/n: i watched gladiator ii and then was too emotionally devastated to finish this fic the way i planned. i really hope you all like this!! also, this fic is also dedicated to my dear friend @pascalssbabyy because she is my biggest cheerleader and i love her <33

wc: 7.2k (not beta read)

It was he who woke you.

A quiet sacrifice in the evening that felt like the freshest breath of air you could have, more intense than what you could have atop any mountain, near any spring. The scent of burning meat and smokey vegetables grasped at your lungs, and you almost choked on it. How long had it been since someone had offered you something so kind? Real food, not just scraps of something they didn’t wish for. 

You’d never complain about how difficult it is to be a minor Goddess, you know that you could be a mortal, but most don’t think of how Gods can fade. It’s a physical process, one where you’d notice how your fingertips passed through things like chalices and bowls, how a spoon slid through your hand once. The clatter of gold on the table was embarrassing, even though you were alone. Nothing about being forgotten, or fading, physically hurt. It was only mentally taxing, knowing that you weren’t as important as you once were, that mortals found you insignificant.

Generals used to come and offer things frequently sometime ago, but you couldn’t even begin to understand how long ago that was. When you’re immortal, or supposed to be, mortal lives seem fleeting. You had taken them for granted, and regret it now, for all you have now are the empty clouds above your temple. 

The last offering you can gather was from a young boy, who wanted to win a board game against his sister the next day. He had given you half a bun with strips of meat. Sure, it was thoughtful, but this was something rich. 

You finish inhaling the offering, and then hear the offerer's voice. But it’s muffled, and you want to see who it is anyways, so you swipe through the clouds and create a window to see. Then you can hear him clearly.

Someone who is clearly a general kneels at your altar, which is chipped and dirty. The ashes of the food are in front of him, smoking still, and you can taste the wealth in his meal. It can’t distract you from him though, he is striking.

Broad shoulders support a heavy, curly, grey, head of hair, which is bowed in honor of you. His body is widely built, sturdy for battle, and his voice is just as powerful. You’re so focused on hearing his voice you only catch the tail end of his request.

“... Allow me to come home safely, if not for Rome, then for my wife.”

Your heart squeezes, and you swear you can feel the ichor gushing through your veins. Scarcely when a General came to give you an offering all those years ago would he mention a wife, only ever wishing for luck in the upcoming battle or war. But here, now, you’ve been given a respectful request and offering. It isn’t a thought in your mind to not favor him now, your eyes closing and your mouth murmuring a blessing to him. It feels intoxicating to use some of your power again, especially on someone who asked for it. It also feels intoxicating to watch this General leave.

He looks around before he goes, seeming to note how degraded your small temple has become. The statue of you that lies ahead of your altar is yellowing, and ironically, multiple fingers have broken off. The General seems displeased by this, sighing as he exits the temple.

His gait is heavy, sandaled steps weighted as he walks down them and into the torch-lit night. You find yourself looking for him even after he’s disappeared from your sight, the warmth of gratefulness hugging around you. Part of you knows better than to play around with the thought, but still you wish to know more about him.

—

It worsens when he comes back. A few times a week he returns, offering rich foods. It’s been a month now, and you are coming back to life.

Fading didn’t feel like anything, but coming back feels like so much more. The first few offerings had your body feeling alight again, like the ichor in you was flowing again, but within the last two weeks you’ve gotten your fingertips back. They were tingling for a day and then the next you were able to properly grasp things again, nothing was slipping through you.

In that time you had also learned his name. A guard had come looking for him one night, and stood behind him whilst he prayed. You had found yourself smiling when he didn’t interrupt himself, instead acting aggravated once he had finished. The guard had apologized for interrupting and let him know that “Your wife wishes to speak to you, General Acacius.”

Acacius. 

You still don’t know his first name, but it is enough. You can think of it when you feel lonely, when you are bored. Something to associate with the offerings, with the blessings. The fact he has been so consistent hints at a desperation, which would usually repel you from blessing him, but he is the only one who seems to recognize you. His efforts are not going to go unseen by you, not when you have so little to do.

You can feel yourself conceding to your need to know him more, but just as you begin to fight yourself again, he shows up.

Tonight he’s dressed a little nicer. Usually he arrives in a plain tunic but this one has golden trim on it, and his hair is a little more tousled. He stumbles into your altar holding something in a cloth, but he’s walking like he’s… drunk? 

Acacius meanders to your altar, grabbing a torch along the way, and then empties the contents of the cloth. It produces a small dessert bun, a Libum, or honey cheesecake, and your mouth waters. So much of the food that is given to you is savory meats, masculine foods that are heavy on the senses, but this is sweet and delicate. You can, of course, eat whatever you’d like. You’re a Goddess, and though you aren’t major, you are still very fortunate.

But this feels thoughtful.

The General drops to his knees after lighting the bun ablaze, swaying slightly, and now you know he must be drunk.

“Goddess Felicitas,” he begins as normal, “I am sorry I am later than usual. Though I don’t know if Goddesses sleep. I was… caught up in other affairs, but I made it in time.”

He is less eloquent than usual and seems particularly focused on how it is nearly past midnight.

“I brought you this though,” he gestures to the half burnt bun. “I wanted to bring you something different than meat and… things. I thought a dessert would be fitting for that task.”

Acacius pauses now. His thoughts are probably muddled from whatever he drank, and you find yourself smiling. Foolery has never been so endearing to you.

“You have been listening to me, I suppose. My requests for luck in battle have been answered, as well as my safety being ensured. Your blessings have brought my wife peace of mind, something I could not previously afford to her.”

He looks so small in your temple tonight. Normally he is not so vulnerable, but his shoulders sag as he mentions his wife. Some sort of shame runs over him at the idea that he could not ease his wife’s worries, but it makes you feel better that you could help. 

“Goddess Felicitas, I come here tonight bearing no requests, just gratitude. Your blessings have soothed wounds I could not see, and I feel like a young soldier again. You invigor me.” 

Then, he leaves. 

You watch helplessly as he stumbles back down the steps and away from your temple, and more than ever you wish to chase him. The love he has for his wife is clear, and you hold no jealousy of that, but you wish it were you. Something in you is deeply attached to this General now. He has awoken you so much more than rekindling your power as a goddess, more than releasing you from the grief that comes with fading. Yes, Acacius has made your heart beat again, your mind curious again, and you feel seen. Being worshipped is not the same as being loved, if that were true you’d have had many children by now, 

But after so long being forgotten, this feels like what you remember being loved as.

—

You try not to interact with the other Gods for the most part. They tend to meddle in things they don’t need to, and are sensitive. You are not exempt from this stereotype, but that’s only more reason for the distance. 

But today, you venture to meet another deity.

Morpheus is not hard to find. He is pretty stationery where he is, usually lounging on a rock or bench near his temple, or above it in the clouds. He is a bit…dramatic, from what you remember, but wise. 

Today he is stretched out on a cloud above his temple, eyes shut. His pale skin stretches taut on his bones as his lean frame breathes deeply. But, he is not asleep. 

“Morpheus,” you speak. 

His body rolls toward your direction, eyes still shut, but a small smile on his face.

“O young goddess Felicitas, what brings you to me?” He questions.

It’s hard not to feel embarrassed. You’ve spoken to Morpheus on very rare occasions, but he’s always been somewhat helpful, though nosy. Dreams tell a lot about people, and when he’s the one giving them to people, it’s hard to hide anything at all.

You don’t want him to know of your true affection for General Acacius, just that he is… worthy of a visit. 

And so you begin to describe it to Morpheus, your need to visit Acacius. He doesn’t open his eyes at all, but he raises his eyebrows a lot and seems bemused at your situation. You’re only halfway through your rambling before he raises a gangly limb and waves at your words.

“Felicitas, you think you are the only Goddess wishing to visit her admirer? You need no explanation,” he says jovially. 

Morpheus reaches into the air and pulls 6 black berries into existence, then drops them into your open palm.

“When you know he is asleep, bite down on one of these and think of him,” he describes to you.

The berries smell like nothing, but a powdery residue is left on your skin as you roll them in your palm. It doesn’t repel you at all.

Tonight, you will visit him and express the same gratitude he did to you. 

—

Marcus lays next to his wife, Lucilla, with her hand in his. She fell asleep sometime ago, leaving him to lie awake by himself.

He didn’t make it to her temple tonight and the guilt is festering in his body. Marcus knows that she is a Goddess, that he probably isn’t a thought in her mind. He knows that he is just another whiney mortal, giving her food that isn’t nearly as good as whatever Gods eat. His insignificance grows as he feeds into his guilt. 

Stress has permeated his life for much of it, from his time as a young soldier up until now, as a General. Battles, politics, and his family, have created a breeding ground for him to be wracked with anxieties, but he stays strong. Thanks to his time in Felicitas temple, it’s been better.

Which is why failing to make it to her temple tonight is making him feel so bad.

He grabs at the linen sheets of his bed, stressing and trying to reassure himself until he falls asleep finally.

—

Being in a dream is weird. It feels much the same as it does when you disguise yourself as a mortal, the out of body experience is semi-familiar, but it’s weird because someone else is there.

You’ve been watching the General enjoy the lake in front of him for a few minutes now. He hasn’t slipped into it, but just walks along the waterline. It seems like he is looking for something. Surely his dreams usually contain more action, or perhaps are memories, so you assume it may be strangely understimulating for him.

The appearance you’ve chosen is one of modesty, but elegance. A seafoam green peplos hangs off your frame delicately, with golden clasps at the wrists and waist. You did your hair so it would be tucked out of your face. There is no guarantee that Acacius will recognize you like this, but you look much like your statue that’s within your temple.

Swallowing your nerves, you shimmer yourself into visibility. The grassy field is odd beneath your feet, and you walk toward him with uncertainty in each step. You’ve never met with a mortal before, and you haven’t stepped on anything earthy in a long while. His broad stature only becomes more daunting as you get closer, especially since he seems so focused.

You will have to speak first. You’re much too quiet in this environment, and you must act fast lest he wake before you get his attention.

“General Acacius,” you speak firmly, though your hands shake. 

This is so unfamiliar to you. You’ve barely even seen his face, as he’s usually bowed at your altar. It is the first time you’ll see him at an equal level, the first time you’ll have brought yourself to him rather than him to you. 

He turns quickly, an instinctual aggressiveness toward the unknown. You stand about 10 feet from him, eyes widening.

Acacius is striking. His nose is what you focus on first, strong in shape and line, but behind it are his eyes which look to you with wide acknowledgement. His hair curls around his head in greying ringlets, like a permanent laurel crowning him. The wide expanse of his back was once impressive, but now you can see the solid wall which he becomes when facing you. Nothing could push him over it seems, a man built to stand.

Your heart squeezes the way it did the first time he gave you a request, a tender rush tingling your whole body. No words come out of either of your mouths, and the General drops to one knee instantly. 

He recognizes you.

“Goddess Felicitas,” he rushes out in a breath. His chest is heaving as he bows his head and no, no this isn’t how you want this.

Your feet are moving before you can focus on your anxiety, bringing you so close to him that you can kneel too. Maybe a goddess should not kneel before a mortal general, but you are just on your knees rather than putting yourself below him. Your peplos billows a little as air rushes through it when you hit the grass.

He is above you like this, and you tilt your head to see his face again. His strong brow is furrowed, eyes squeezed shut like he is afraid of you. 

“Acacius,” you say softly, “I am not here for… for ill reason. Please relax yourself.”

You lean back as he relaxes, head tipping upwards as he kneels in front of you as well. Now you can meet his eyes, see the crinkles that are beside them, and really take him in.

An energy of anxiety is shared wordlessly, with him stiff from the sight of a literal goddess, and you with the fear of… something. 

The identity of your anxieties isn’t something that you can figure out. Maybe it’s too much to see such a handsome mortal, or maybe it’s that you’re going to thank him for his offerings so personally. Maybe it’s humiliation from this act. What would other Gods think of this? Is it not degrading to become so attached to a mortal? Are you no better than Zeus or Hermes, the gods who interact too intimately with mortals? 

The sound of his labored breathing alerts you, calls your attention back to the present moment. 

“I wanted to thank you,” you admit meekly, “for your offerings. You have been very generous and… devoted.”

His eyes are shifty, and you can see the terror in him still. You don’t want him to fear you, but you can understand why. Visits from Gods or other deities can mean trouble, but you aren’t significant like that.

“General Acacius you are the first mortal who has acknowledged me in a long time,” you offer a vulnerability, perhaps trying to soothe him.

It feels so backwards for you to be kneeling in front of him, speaking. He has done so in front of your altar for many weeks now, but now the spots are switched, yet you are still in power. You avert your gaze as you speak up, wanting to request something of him.

“You’ve been so generous to me, General, I was hoping to know more about you.”

And now, rather than scared, he seems suspicious. 

“To know me?” He clarifies. 

You nod.

“I only know your last name. I think I could offer more luck and splendor if we were more… personal.” 

Gods that felt awful to say. You’re no better than the whorish brutes on their thrones, offering petty glories for intimacy. Everything feels flirtatious but that’s not what you’re looking for. Acacius has a wife he clearly loves, you would never want to interrupt that. 

He seems to hesitate, but he knows he cannot refuse you. So far your blessings have brought ease to his life, he wouldn’t want to lose that.

“Then… yes, I suppose I can offer myself if it would please you.” He responds stoically. 

And it does please you, to know his name. Marcus Acacius, the one who woke you, the one who has saved you from being a fragmented memory within the temples. 

Marcus Acacius, who you are too fond of.

—

You visit him 3 more times. In an attempt to space out the usage of the berries Morpheus gave you, you only visit him once a week. The bleak tasting berries are sour on your tongue, a rotten sour which lingers once you wake up, but it’s worth it.

The two of you have grown closer, with Marcus opening up more. He tells you about the stresses in his life, how much anxiety is buried in him. But, he’s confident for the sake of his wife. You’ve learned that her name is Lucilla, and much more about her. Marcus talks about her a lot, in passing or retelling something she told him. In the small amount of time you’ve gotten to know him, you’ve gotten to know her as well.

It burns you with a strange warmth, a desire and envy which makes your stomach growl. You are hungry for him to admire you in the same way, to speak of you, but doesn’t he already? Shame grips your throat when you think of it. You are a Goddess who he sacrifices to, who he wishes to have blessings from. What more do you need? A mortal couldn't offer you what another deity could. 

After the fourth meeting, you found yourself lonely. Lazing back in the clouds above your temple, you woke with a deep hunger. Marcus is beautiful, an admirable man, and he loves passionately. You are already being such a glutton for even speaking with him, meeting with him repeatedly, so why must you yearn for him too? 

Worship isn’t enough, you want what you will never let yourself to have.

Nothing hints that he might feel similarly. His starry gaze which lands on you is not due to your beauty, your personality, or anything more. You have blessed him, and that is why his eyes glitter. Goddess status has never made you feel so low and isolated. Still, you are happy to help him achieve what he wishes, even as it cripples your heart.

Tonight you plan on visiting him. That fourth visit was a week and a half ago, he may be wondering where you are. He still comes to your altar each night, but the prayers are less personal. Marcus saves his stories and ramblings for when the two of you are in the field, or near the lake, when the two of you are really alone.

—

You bite into the berry at around midnight. Its tangy yet death-tasting juice floods your mouth, clinging to the crevices between your teeth and staining your gums. Closing your eyes, you think of Marcus, and his curls, and his eyes, and his nose, and his strong hands.

And then you are there, and he is waiting. 

It seems like his subconsciousness has picked to be at the lake today, and he’s sat in the sand at the edge of the water. You walk over to him, but notice how… down he appears to be.

“She is not happy with me,” Marcus confesses before you even sit down.

You stand a few feet back from him, looking at how his curls fall around his bowed head.

“Lucilla?” You ask softly.

He nods.

A wicked feeling begins to steep in your heart. She is upset with him, he is in need of you for something more than a blessing. 

And so you listen. 

It’s one of the longer meetings the two of you have had. Marcus doesn’t cry, but he seems truly upset. He’s been called to go off somewhere far again, to fight and kill. Reassurances that you will protect him as best you can only soothe him so much. 

He doesn't care if he dies, he cares that his beloved is distraught over this. 

The more the two of you talk, the closer you get. There are marks on the sand from where you originally sat, but now you kneel in front of him, with creased brows and worried eyes. This isn’t something you can fix, you aren’t familiar with love and its intricacies. 

His knees were tucked closer to his chest before, but they’ve loosened now and his fists rest atop them, clenching. Frustration sits on his face like a mask, one you wish to take off him.

Touching is not… something either of you partake in. Sometimes your shoulders will brush when you sit together, but nothing more has ever been initiated. 

That is why it doesn’t surprise you when he flinches as your hand reaches out to rest on top of his right clenched fist. 

“Marcus,” you say softly, wanting to offer comfort, but he cuts you off.

“Don’t,” he replies swiftly.

At first it hurts, watching as he waves off your hand from his own, but then you look at his face rather than where your hands were joined. The frustrated look on his face is gone, replaced with something worse, something guilty. His eyes aren’t glittering at you like usual, nor are they hardened with anger.

They’re soft pools of conflict that mirror your own.

It doesn’t soothe your burn, satiate your envy. You can see in his eyes that maybe you aren’t alone in these feelings of admiration, of want, but maybe this is not what you want.

Maybe you want a different universe, one where he doesn’t have to be a mortal and you, a Goddess. So you wouldn’t have to worry about him dying, and have this friendship survive off death flavored berries. Maybe you want a universe where he isn’t married, where he could be yours and you wouldn’t feel like a spectator to his heart.

Maybe you want that, but you won’t get it.

Instead the flames of jealousy die in your chest and are replaced with tumors of guilt. Your whole body feels bloated, embarrassed, and ugly. 

The pair of you stare at each other, a stupid realization between the both of you as you realize that your secrets have been spilled, even though it’s the same one.

His eyes don’t move from yours, so you move from his.

The sandy edge of the lake does not look so bright now, even though there are no clouds in Marcus’s dream. 

“When do you leave?” You ask softly. 

You will not follow him into whatever battle he’ll win. Don’t embarrass yourself, Goddess.

He tells you two weeks. You say you’ll see him before then.

Then you wake on a cloud again, with a cavity of guilt in your chest.

—

Marcus wakes alone. 

Lucilla had not wanted to sleep with him that night, choosing to stay elsewhere. She didn’t tell him where, she left in a quiet flurry of tears and anguish.

It’s easier for him to feel guilt over his Goddess than it is to hurt his beloved, even if it is the same.

In a moment of frustration he grasps at the sheets, turning over and biting at his pillow. The bed is so cold, and the room smells like stale air even though the window is open, the night breezy. 

He knows she is beautiful because she is a Goddess. All Goddesses are beautiful, ethereal beings that mortals cannot even comprehend at times. Marcus knows he is lucky to even perceive her, for her to have chosen to visit him.

Yet through all her blessings, he feels cursed.

A plague of emotional infidelity is crawling through his body, sticking to his bones and making him stiff. Everything he does has felt flat for so long, from pretending he is grateful to the Emperors, to now pretending nothing is wrong in his marriage. He’s scared, and exhausted.

Marcus rubs a hand over his face after rolling over and sitting up in bed, groaning into his palm. 

At first he tried to blame her for it. What would a Goddess want from a successful General other than a demigod hero son? What could truly be so special about him? He assumed she was manipulating him, using some sort of power to morph his heart, but now he knows it is not true.

If she had wanted to, she would have had him by now, and he knows this. If she had wanted to, her hand would have stayed where it was tonight, and pushed him further. It isn’t unlike the Gods to force themselves on a mortal, but she didn’t.

Instead, his hand feels hot where hers rested, and his mind is spinning. 

Marcus doesn’t fall asleep again, afraid that he’ll see her. 

—

You wait for a full two weeks before you visit him again. He had been coming to your temple less, and you had assumed he was busy with preparations for the coming battle. 

The stubbornness you felt that night has not left you. At first you did not leave your temple in fear that you would grow attached, now you remain there because you have grown attached. 

“Enough is enough,” you had thought to yourself. 

But it is hard not to miss him, and his soothing prayers. The way his offerings tasted of smoke and sweet, and how he’d always burn such a large portion. Marcus never gave you scraps, he seemed to refuse to. 

However, you can only distance yourself so far. 

It is quiet when you approach him. He is sitting in the field this time, the lake a distant glitter in your eyes. He does not face you, but his head isn’t bowed like before.

“Marcus,” you greet, your voice muted.

He raises his head, turning over his shoulder and nodding, as if to direct you to come closer, and so you do.

Tonight’s visit isn’t vulnerable, or even pleasant. Marcus seems so distant as he dryly tells you about how he’s preparing, and his wishes to return safely. His eyes barely meet your own as he talks, and he continuously twists the ring on his finger.

It grows tiring, watching him ramble about politics you could care less about, listening to him say things that have nothing to do with him. He’s so far from the friend you thought you had made. When the air between you goes quiet, you don’t fill it for a while. You listen to the sound of the wind in the grass as his eyes still will not meet yours. It’s breaking you apart.

This is the last night you’re able to visit him, unless you visit Morpheus again. You will not waste it like this.

“What is ailing you, General?” You ask, deciding to prod more than you usually do.

To your surprise, he scoffs in light laughter.

“You,” he responds quietly.

His words don’t hurt, at least not yet. You have the option to walk away now, wake yourself and leave him with his final blessings, but of course you don’t.

“Me?” You ask, “what have I done?”

Marcus rolls his shoulders back, lifting his head to look into the everblue sky above the both of you.

“You have made my life difficult, Goddess.”

Difficult? You have made his life difficult?

You have half a mind to tear him to pieces, curse him with something awful like snakes for toes, or spoons for teeth. After all that you’ve done for him, all the safety you’ve provided, he is telling you that you make things difficult? How dare he? Be outraged, Goddess, for he disrespects the holy luck which you bestowed to him.

That’s what you should think, that’s how most of you should feel.

But instead you feel small, and hurt. Yes, he is disrespecting all that you’ve given, but also you feel like a failure. Your physical existence is because of him, because he did not let you fade. All you wanted to do was make his life easier, help him to have an eased mind and a safer life.

But instead, he’s telling you you’re difficult.

It feels like your body is shrinking in the white peplos you’ve worn, the sheer fabrics swallowing you. Shame is flooding in the form of tears behind your eyes, wetting your orbs with an unexpected outburst of emotion.

“I am sorry,” you manage weakly.

Marcus does not look at you while you cry, and you want to believe it is because he cares too much to watch, but you cannot verify that.

The wind picks up again, but it does nothing to hide the soft cries you can’t hold back. Once you were a fading Goddess, now you are just a failing one.

There is no luck involved with love.

Eventually he speaks again, with his head turned away from you.

“I am sorry too,” he says. There’s a finality in his tone that makes you ache.

So much is said in such little words. He is sorry to you, for you, and with you. A sorrow is shared between the two of you, knowing that your hearts ache for one another as they are worlds apart yet on earth together. 

This last berry was only supposed to mark the end of your visits, not the end of everything. It feels like this is all there is for the two of you, since it’s too complicated to continue on like this.

That’s why he doesn’t move away when you move closer and rest your head on his shoulder as tears leak down your cheeks, or at least that’s what you’ll believe. 

—

Time moves weirdly when you’re immortal, but it all happens so quickly.

Marcus stopped coming to offer things for you, and so you were blessing him less. Admittedly you had kept an eye on him, but not a keen one. It didn’t feel right, not when you and him weren’t… friends anymore.

But this feels too soon, too fast, too unfamiliar. Has your sadness caused you to be blind?

You watch as a man kneels in front of Marcus, panting and bloody with a sword beside him on the ground.

The only reason you are here was because you had felt the roar of a crowd all the way at your own temple, a wide distance away. It had drawn you in, and instead you had found this.

That roaring which you had heard crescendos to a new height around you as you shimmer into existence, cloaking yourself to the mortal eyes in the stands of the coliseum, but existing enough to touch him.

Arrows stick out of his front, more crushed beneath his back, as he is slumped on the white, gravel, ground. His hair is curled with tacky blood streaking through it, and he is so, so, still.

You drag your hand across his forehead, feeling the remaining heat, and in the echo of the crowd you begin to sob. 

Everything around you is moving, changing, fighting, and screaming, but you sit invisible in the center of the coliseum, running your hands over the now dead General Acacius. There is nothing you can do to bring him back, to ease Lucilla, to save him and apologize. He is dead beneath your fingers, with arrows lodged deep in his irreparable, mortal, flesh. 

You were supposed to keep him safe.

Hot tears run down your cheeks as you keep grasping at his armor, unable to move him or yourself. The last visit felt official, but this feels final. There is nothing more for you here, no friendship in a corpse.

Thoughts are running through your mind at the rate that your breath is puffing from your chest. The question of where he will end up in the afterlife is overwhelming you, and the chance for him to go to Elysium feels reasonable. It’s where he should be, where he deserves to go, especially after all he had done for Rome. You don’t even care why he’s here, or why he seems to have been brutally killed, but after the time you spent with him, Elysium seems right for him.

—

It’s where he should be. Elysium is where he should be.

And it’s where you find him.

His place there is somewhat similar to his and Lucilla’s home back in the mortal world, with lush greenery and airy drapes that flutter in various colours. It seems like he has left space for Lucilla here too, with space left in the chests for her things, and a permanently made half of the bed.

Elysium offers a true celebration of life for heroes, demigodly or not, and you’re sure Marcus has been enjoying that. Anything that he had been shackled to in his mortal life was gone now, and it seems that all he would have to miss is his wife. 

Most of your time is spent there, in his afterlife home. You peer from behind curtains when he comes back, hidden in drapes and keeping yourself small. 

He is already dead, but after the last time you abandoned him, you cannot bear to leave him alone again.

The vision of him, bloodied and murdered on the coliseum floor, flickers into your mind every time you see him lying in his bed. It’s an obsession to be near him, to be looking after him. Pluto might not even know you’re down here anymore, but what does it matter?

Marcus Acacius was the last living mortal to worship you. In the underworld, you are beginning to fade. Your fingers are slipping from you again, which is making it easier to lurk near him, but it is a painful process.

You want to speak to him. No longer do you yearn for his love, not after being in his home and seeing how dedicated his heart truly is to Lucilla, but you yearn to speak to him again. A panicked emotion runs through you at the thought of fading alone, of being entirely forgotten. 

It didn’t matter before he died, fading was just something bound to happen, but now it’s more. Is he forgetting you?

—

You’ve lost most of your arms by the time you work up the courage to speak up. Lucilla arrived sometime ago, joining Marcus in the afterlife. Watching them together brought some warmth to you, some kind of happiness that you couldn’t have for yourself, but seeing it for him was enough.

You sit on the terrace of their home, invisible to their eyes, and somewhat to your own. From the tips of your fingers to just below your elbows, you are a specter. Grey shadow fills where your limbs used to be, and they pass through all objects. You couldn’t tap his shoulder if you tried.

Oftentimes you sit, hidden, and ponder by yourself about more than Marcus. There were so many things you were adamant about when he was alive, and you regret it all now. Your determination to avoid your feelings, or at least not show them, and your need to not become attached… it bites at you now, a stinging, grieving, venom, that won’t leave. Your status as a Goddess blinded you to how tender that friendship could have been, and now you sit as a ghost spectator to his afterlife, obsessed with a mortal as a fading immortal. 

The tips of your fingers pass through the glass you try to grab as you think of this on the terrace. You’re glad that you’re such a minor deity, so at least you do not have to feel so humiliated about fading. A smile has just graced your face as you feel blessed for being so unimportant you can essentially stalk this mortal, when suddenly his voice cuts through the humid air of the space.

“Felicitas?” Marcus’ voice asks.

It’s so hesitant that you think you’re imagining it. You thought you had their home to yourself right now, thinking they had gone to do… whatever souls do in Elysium, but when you turn your face, he is there.

Marcus has not worn fancy clothing in a long while now, and right now is no different. He stands before you in a plain looking tunic, which just graces his knees. To see him at ease has been so nice, but he looks distressed at your sudden appearance.

You cannot find your voice as you awkwardly stand up, trying to think quickly. There is no good way to explain what you’re doing here, hidden away in him and his wife’s home. You could just vanish into thin air, but that feels wrong. He has seen you already, any attempts at pretending you aren’t here would be ridiculous.

His eyes scroll from your face down to your arms, and the smoking shadows that used to be there. Concern pinches onto his face with knitted brows and pressed together lips.

Something in you wants him to turn away, so you don’t have to think about why he is worried for you, even after all the trouble you caused, but he doesn’t.

His sandaled steps are heavy as he comes to you, reaching for your hands but finding the gesture fruitless as his own slip right through yours.

“Dulcissima,” he speaks weakly, shock woven in his words.

You had told him about fading a little while ago, when the two of you were in that field. Now it seems the severity of it has hit him.

What is hitting you is the name. Dulcissima, or sweetest. How long had it been since you had been referred to so fondly? All at once you are being remembered, recognized, and shown some affection. It feels like too much and tears are falling out of your control.

“I’m sorry,” you manage, “I was supposed to– to keep you safe.”

Marcus is shaking his head already, refusing your apology.

“No, no. You did keep me safe, you did. I pushed you away, I couldn’t control myself and I caused this,” he argues. 

It does not comfort you that you both blame yourselves. You wish to reach out to him and touch his face like you should have when he was warm and alive. You want to know if he is cold now, and it’s as if he hears you.

Marcus places a hand on your cheek, a softness in his eyes and hold that says that he missed you.

“I saw you,” he claims, “when I was on the ground. You were the last thing I saw.”

Somewhere between life and death for mortals, there are moments of godly clarity. Some see the light, others see their families and memories, but in that tiny glimpse of time, some see Gods. 

He was able to see you as you knelt over him, sobbing as you were cloaked to any mortal's naked eye.  You were the last thing he saw, and the last thing he truly regretted. 

All you can do is stiltedly nod at him, feeling like you were in trouble even though it seems he’s not upset.

For a moment, his eyes flick away, contemplative, but then he meets your gaze again.

“I told Lucilla of you, before I died. Not– not of my feelings which I struggled with, but that you were a close friend, a blessing in many ways.”

A blessing in many ways.

Another choked sob is wracked from your chest, your bottom lip curling out embarrassingly as your face contorts. He almost coos at you, the thumb on your cheek rubbing away your tears.

“Goddess, I have missed you,” he admits. 

Stupid nods are all you can offer, your voice imprisoned in your ever tightening throat which cries. When he was alive he was never this tender, too confused and insecure to ever touch you, but it seems he has been regretting things too.

“Felicitas,” he says quietly, “do you come here for ill reason?”

You shake your head this time, rather than nodding. You have no reason to be here, other than the fact that guilt has taken over your mind and heart since he died.

“Then relax, dulcissima. I have an offering for you.”

Marcus relaxes his stature, eyes still gazing over you. He looks at your fading palms and you watch him swallow nervously.

“I will worship you again, lending you offerings here, and all I ask in return is for our friendship again.”

It’s the opposite of how you met, almost completely, but it’s everything you need. You will not fade, he will not struggle in marriage, and you will have one another again. 

Again, you are nodding stupidly, but soon you’re embraced by him and nodding into his chest. His hands grasp at your back as he tells you how much he missed you in his final weeks, how he regrets losing you entirely, how he requires you as a friend. 

You are satiated in his arms as he comforts you, awakening you again there on the terrace. Unbeknownst to you, Marcus has let tears slip down too as he holds you close. 

“You will keep me safe here?” he asks jokingly.

It makes you smile, the idea of offering luck to a man who already died.

“Yes, General. I will keep you safe here, from all the horrifying glory and splendor,” you assure.

The two of you laugh, breaking the embrace but staying close. A passionate connection is still between the two of you, but in a different way now. Maybe when he was alive it was romantic because it is all you could think of, but through his death the two of you have come to understand it more. 

You require one another in a unique way, and leaning on one another does not have to be intimate the way he is with his wife. Marcus does need you, just as you need him, and now that you are both immortal in a way, you will never be separated again.

please leave a comment, like, reblog, askbox, or ANYTHING. i'd love to hear thoughts on this <33

tags (people who seemed excited for this) (sorry if these dont work)

@pascalssbabyy , @moonshapedflan , @gossipgirl-03 , @kyloispunk , @frannyzooey , @coocoolahh , @bug-boy32 , @honeymarvel , @magicalmorg , @1deakybass , @tuquoquebrute , @harryshousewhore , @teeagain, @chewie-bars , @vampyyweek , @queenslandlover-93 , @amijenn , @aquanatalie

[velvetydream]

꒰ :🥀 [ Stay ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : You wanted a healthy normal relationship, he hated commitment and told you he would never change. Yet you two are drawn to each other like a moth to a flame, craving for the others warmth.

Pairing : BadBoy! Seonghwa x Fem! Reader

Word count : 10K

Genre : Angst, Comfort, Happy end, Romance,

Smut(y)

Warnings ➵ Drinking, Toxic realationship,

Friends with benefits, SA (not

from Seonghwa), Blood

a/n : Inspired by Ateez Stay cover bcs omg Seonghwa in that cover-

Also please be aware that the realationship in this story is mostly very toxic and only to be seen as a work of fictional art, I don't condone behavior like that in any way!

This is not supposed to represent Seonghwa in any way or form, it's a simple work of fiction!

You swore to yourself you would never get into something with no strings attached. Romance and a healthy relationship were what you were looking for from early on, did that ever work out till now? Not really. Most relationships end before they even start, them cheating or ghosting you. Now that was the reason you told yourself you would never fall for Park Seonghwa, not like apparently everyone else. He was known for breaking hearts left and right and not being up for commitment. Despite his good looks, that scared you off, keeping your distance from him.

Now how did you end up getting to know him despite telling yourself to stay away from him? It all started with this one project in your history class.

Your best friend Yunho was sitting beside you, telling you about his weekend and how he visited this fun amusement park with his family. Listening to him till a sudden bang disrupted your conversation. In steps Park Seonghwa, followed by Choi San and Kim Hongjoong. Those three were rather known to be up to no good mostly, along with a few others like Wooyoung or Jongho. Clad in mostly black and blue clothes, a lot of leather, and Seonghwas neck adorned by a velvety chocker. He even wore some makeup, his black hair put up into a half bun, noticing even a few hickeys on his neck, probably from one of his playthings. Rolling your eyes before averting your attention to Yunho again, chatting till the professor walks in, Mingi stumbling in out of breath before he closes the door, the tall boy taking the seat beside you now.

The lesson was going rather smoothly, the troublemakers at the back only keeping to themselves this time and not bothering the rest of the class. Ears peaking up now as your professor announces a partner project, where he for once assigned the partners, making you wish to get anyone but one of those three.

"Mingi and Yunho." Both boys high-fived, before sending you an apologetic look, your name was yet to be called, same for Seonghwa and you two were one of the last people left. "Y/N and Seonghwa." Your pen slipped from your hand landing on the desk, that man can't be serious right? Looking over to Mingi and then Yunho, both not meeting your gaze, knowing full well you want to switch with them. Screw them for real. No more focused on the lesson, you were thinking of ways to get out of this project, not even noticing how your two friends already stood up and were now watching a certain black-haired man walk over to you.

"Here is my number, write me for the project~" Shriking together as you hear a whisper in your right ear, a hand putting a piece of paper in your hand and disappearing before you could even turn around to scold him for coming this close to you. Out of them all it had to be Seonghwa, you could've maybe even worked with San or Hongjoong but him? A groan leaves your lips as you get up from your seat, following the duo out of the room and to your next class.

And so your relationship with Seonghwa started, you messaged him and made out a meeting point for the project. Which was the library, for now, not wanting to invite him to your place or go to his dorm.

The dreaded day came and you were sitting in the library only problem, was you were alone. Seonghwa was already half an hour late, you already started working but grew more and more irritated the more time ticked by. Almost an hour late he finally shows up, sunglasses perched on his nose as he took a seat beside you. "You're almost an hour late, listen I also don't want to do this, but I will not be doing this alone." Looking at him now finally, you notice how his form looked somewhat sunken together and he still wore the glasses despite being inside. "Are you fucking hungover?!" Groaning at your loud voice now, he holds your stare. "Even if, I'm here and you've got no place to complain." Rolling your eyes, you start to pack your stuff together again, not going to put up with this. You would just have to ask your professor for a different partner, this was ridiculous.

"Are you really being such a bitch right now?" Standing up to follow you, was he seriously coming late and then having the audacity to call you names? "Excuse me?! You were the one to be this late and even hungover now you have the audacity to call me a bitch?! Fuck you!" Slamming the door in his face now you make your way to the gates of the school, stomping your way through the path. Not daring to even look back after you just slammed the door in his face, he would probably just get going and leave you to finish the project all on your own. "Wait up! My god, you're so difficult!" Feeling your eye start to twitch irritated, yet you didn't halt and proceeded to walk. That is until a hand on your wrist suddenly stops you.

"Okay sorry for calling you a bitch, I'm just not in a good mood. Let's meet up tomorrow? I'll be sober for real, I'll even treat you to a meal." Looking at the black-haired man in front of you skeptical now, was he really offering to treat you a dinner while working? With a short hesitation you in the end agreed, telling him your address so he could pick you up, he insisted on picking you up.

With that, your ways part and this was the first real encounter you had with Park Seonghwa. Opening the door for him into your life in a little gap.

The evening was spent preparing some stuff for the project the next day, despite Seonghwa wanting to work on this, you decided to at least start some stuff. Not knowing if you can trust his words of picking you up to work on this tomorrow.

The next day is quick to follow, you get dressed in something flowy and thin because the summer heat is unbearable any other way. Makeup was applied and while you were packing your bag for the study session, your phone started to ring, showing Seonghwas's name. Astonished that he actually showed up, he probably knows you would ask for another partner if he didn't and he needed the good grade, knowing you are a good enough student to help him with achieving this.

The moment you stepped outside your eyes bulged, you knew he drives a motorcycle but you never thought he'd pick you up like this - on top of that you never drove on a motorcycle before. "Ready to go?" Looking up at him now as you stand before him, looking over to the side of the motorcycle before a helmet was held into your view - his helmet. "Don't you need one too?" Laughing a bit at the slightly concerned tone of your voice, Seonghwa assures you that it's fine and the drive a short one. Still a bit unsure you put the helmet on and get behind him, holding onto the sides of the motorcycle making him raise his eyebrows. "Put your feet there and your arms around me, this ain't some cute little slow bicycle, don't want you falling off." Without a second thought, Seonghwa grabs your arms placing them around his waist, your red cheeks being hidden by the helmet. Never in your life had a manhandled you like this. Rough and firm, yet a certain softness to not bruise you. Gripping onto him tightly he takes off.

The drive truly was not that long as he said, it took you maybe 10 minutes to be in front of a little diner. Getting off before you, Seonghwa then holds his hand out to help you off, which you accept before giving the helmet back to him. Following him inside now, he leads you two to a booth next to a window, sitting down opposite of you. "Let's eat first and then work on this stupid project." Nodding in agreement, you still felt a bit uncomfortable talking around him. "You're not really talkative huh?" Sending a smirk your way, you avert your eyes down to the menu. He was right, he intimidated you, even though you would never admit that out loud to him. "I don't really talk to other people than my close friends." This was the closest agreement you would give him, making him hum in acknowledgment.

After giving your orders, the waitress hits on Seonghwa and he reciprocates it, which by the way made you wanna puke, you two finally started to work on your school project because the food would take a while to get to you. Lost in the text now, you don't even notice how Seonghwa often looks up to you, mustering your face. Only catching his eyes for a second when your food arrives, a little break from working on the project while you eat. It was quiet for a while, the only sounds being your cutlery against the plate and the occasional picking up and setting down your glass again.

So after finishing you two got back to work, it actually surprised you how well Seonghwa was working along, had you thought he would let you do the whole work and then get a good grade. The conversations between the two of you also getting easier while the time ticks by. Seonghwa is different in private than he is in school and different from the vibe he gives off. He normally looks so stern and intimidating, yet when you two are alone right now he is rather calm, works well, and doesn't look as rough as he normally does. "Caught your eye darling?" You didn't even notice that you had started staring at Seonghwa, looking down quickly when you started to blush, only hearing a chuckle leave his lips.

"Cat got your tongue now?" You acted as if you didn't hear him, eyes set on the paper before you, that was until you felt Seonghwas foot push against your leg, not hard or anything but a little bump to get your attention and by the way you shrieked together surprised, he got his attention and reaction. The teasing continued while you two worked on the project that day, till you finally closed your book, finished for the day, face ablaze.

"Let's get going, the waitress is eye fucking me and she ain't my type at all." Grabbing his bag now, as he leads you out of the diner and back to his motorcycle. Handing his helmet over to you again, you put it on your head before sitting down behind him again, this time holding onto his waist from the start. "Good girl, you're learning~" Avoiding his gaze now as he glances at you, holding on tight to him as he takes off. The drive back felt even shorter than to the diner, stopping before your building, Seonghwa waits for you to step down and for you to hand his helmet back. "Text me when you wanna meet up next for the project, just give me a heads up early enough so I'm not hungover." You knew he was joking right now from the way he talked, he probably didn't drink every day, and yesterday was probably just a bad day. "Sure, thank you for picking me up and inviting me to a meal." A nod was sent your way before he put his helmet on and drove off. This was a really interesting event.

In your apartment again, you write Yunho and Mingi about how your first study session with Seonghwa went, and them immediately freaking out at how he tried to flirt with you. Rolling your eyes, as you tell then he was simply joking and teasing you probably.

Going about your night routine, before laying down, thinking about the day. Planning to write Seonghwa in two days when it's Friday, maybe to meet up on Saturday or Sunday for the next session.

The days went by quickly and you found yourself writing to Seonghwa, it didn't even take him long to reply either. Agreeing to meet up on Saturday, asking to meet up at your or his place this time. Thinking for a second, you ask for his address, being too uncomfortable to invite him to your place still.

So now you were finding yourself in front of a door, written on it was the number 206, the one Seonghwa sent you. Taking a deep breath, before ringing the doorbell, it took a few seconds, but Seonghwa opened the door for you. "Hello princess, glad you found it here." After the first meet up you were a bit more used to his pet names, entering his apartment now after he opened the door more, taking your shoes off. Glancing around the apartment, it was a bit smaller than yours and more chaotic, with clothes hanging over the couch, the coffee table full of different trinkets, and a pack of cigarettes lying open. Followed him over to the couch, sitting down beside him after he patted the space beside him. "Let's get this going, we don't get forever for this project." Nodding in agreement, you pull the papers you were last working on out, laying them on the table he had cleared right now. Only the cigarettes and ashtray remained on the table.

"Bothers you if I smoke?" Shaking your head yes now, Seonghwa raises his eyebrow. "Sorry I hate the smell, makes me sick to my stomach." Chuckling for a second, Seonghwa puts the pack away again.

"So how you wanna do this? Poster? Or PowerPoint? I could make a PowerPoint." Thinking for a second, a PowerPoint would probably be the best idea. "Sure sounds like a plan, I'll prepare the papers then, so we hand in both." Seonghwa nods before it goes quiet again between the two of you, the silence this time a lot less uncomfortable than before.

"I need a break!" Seonghwa groans as he stretches his arms above his head, noticing how his shirt rides up a bit and exposes his abs. Why did he have to be built this fine? "What you say 'bout take out? I can order." Grabbing his phone to scroll through a few services you agree, ending with both of you ordering Sushi. Now that you were taking a break from writing and working, you felt how sore your hand and fingers felt, like to wiggle them a bit to relieve the pain. "Do you smoke?" Looking over to Seonghwa now, cigarette dangling between his cherry red lips, making you wonder if he uses lip tints. "Not really, tried it once, hated it, my friend smokes from time to time though." Humming as a response, he takes a drag of his cigarette, fingers holding onto the little stick as he blows out the smoke. Just now you notice the chipped blue nail polish, the silver rings adorning his fingers, and the bracelets around his wrists.

"Do you want anything to drink while we wait?" Thinking for a second, before you ask him if he has any lemon soda, chuckling while he gets up to get one from his fridge. Coming back to sit beside you, handing you the lemon soda while he opens a can of beer. It amazed you how it was the middle of the day and he was still able to drink beer. A small conversation was held between the two of you, mostly about school and grades until the food delivery interrupted you two. The food was consumed in silence again, sitting cross-legged beside each other, your knee touching his. As soon as you two finished Seonghwa threw the containers away, sitting down beside you, who had started working yet again. Though unlike you, Seonghwa remained still beside you, watching you closely and how you worked. After a while you finally feel his eyes on you, looking over at him with a questioning look.

"Tell me.. I've been wondering the whole time, have you ever made out with someone?" You really thought your eyes would fall out of the sockets by how wide they got after he asked this. Out of nowhere too? Where was this coming from? Stammering now to find an answer, it's embarrassing to admit to someone like Seonghwa that at your age you never even kissed someone. All of a sudden the whole room and your body felt as if it was on fire. "I uhm.. I-" Smirking at the way you try to form a coherent answer, he already got his answer - no you never made out with someone. "Wanna try it?" Not believing your ears, you just stare at him, Seonghwa holding your gaze the whole time, his face being so intimidating and serious about his offer.. Was this even an offer?

"I mean.. Y-Yes someday.." Your eyes were glued on your hands now, which were playing with the trim of your shirt, not being able to look into his face. "I mean like right now, wanna try? Wanna know how it feels like?" You could feel him scoot closer to you, his body heat closer to you now, as he leaned his arm behind you on the couch, trapping you a little bit, between him and the couch. "I.. I'm not sure.." Feeling his fingers softly graze your chin as he turns your face to him, his eyes cast downward to your lips, making you gulp. "Say no or I will kiss you right now." The look on his face was telling you he was serious and despite that, you just looked at him, not telling him no. Your heart thrumming heavy in your chest, being able to feel it in your throat too. Even though you're aware of his reputation, you're way too curious to kiss him, make out even, but didn't curiosity kill the cat in the end?

Before you knew it his lips were on yours, soft and slow at first. His lips were warm against yours, he tasted a bit like smoke, but not too bad actually. Reciprocating the kiss, your body was still tense from being kissed by the Park Seonghwa, on top you were unsure about your inexperience. Seonghwas hands find your waist as he with ease tugs on you and places you on his lap. One arm stays around your waist now as the other slowly glides up, grazing your chest for a split second before settling on softly holding the side of your neck, his hand big enough for his thumb to slightly rub over your jawline. The kiss was turning more intense, your own hands gliding up his chest and coming to rest on his shoulders, slightly gripping the black shirt he was wearing.

A sudden gasp left your lips when you felt his tongue glide over your lip, him taking the chance to deepen the kiss. What surprised you even more, was a warm little ball pushing against your tongue now and then, you didn't even know that he had a tongue piercing. Pulling away for a bit now to let you catch your breath, his arms pushing you closer against him as he starts to trail kisses down your neck and onto your shoulder, pulling the fabric of your top down the shoulder a bit. "S-Seonghwa.." Gasping softly when you felt him suck on your collarbone, this prone to leave a mark for sure.

"We barely made out and you look this fucked out? Now I really wanna know what you look like after getting your brain fucked out." Eyes growing wide as he says these filthy words, you also can't deny that they have an effect on you, your core slowly growing wet. "But let's call it a day for now before I make you pass out." Letting you climb off his lap now, his lips pulled into a smirk. Just now you notice the smudged color on his lips, so he wears lipstick and not tint? Wiping a finger over your own now, checking your finger and being met with the same color on Seonghwas lips. "Here let me wipe it off." Grabbing your chin again, he turns your face to him as he softly wipes away the red lipstick with a tissue. Thanking him quietly, as you gather your things together. It was already quite late so you should probably head back now. "I'll drive you back." Surprised by that offer, you still take it, more convenient than taking the train for half an hour and possibly encountering creepy people.

The rest of the evening wasn't really special, he dropped you off, telling you to write him for the next session, making you wonder if he meant the school work or something else, before taking off after you went inside your building. And this was the first intimate moment you had with Park Seonghwa.

The next few sessions went rather normal, he did occasionally flirt with you, but nothing too much.

The due date was also a bit away and you two were almost finished, that's why you two decided to not study this Saturday. Great for you, did your girl friends invite you out to the club and you agreed. Get ready in a cute short dress, a belt, some matching accessories, and high heels, which will most likely kill you later in the night. Being picked up by your friends, you all arrive at the club and get inside.

It was full, like any Saturday night, the red and blue flashing lights made you squint your eyes for a second, getting them to adjust. People were mushed together on the dance floor, most booths were full already, luckily your friend knew some of the girls in one of them, making you guys join them. Shots were ordered, and some cocktails were drunk. It was a fun evening, spending some time on the dance floor, till you feel hands grab your hips from behind. About to punch the person grabbing you, stop when you notice that it's Seonghwa. "Such a skimpy dress, trying to drive me crazy?" Looking around frantically now, your friends were all caught up with something or someone else, to even notice Seonghwa being behind you. "Didn't know you would be here." Avoiding his gaze, you feel his body and hands move to grab your wrist softly and pull you outside of the club. Letting go of your hand for a second, he pulls out the pack of cigarettes, lighting it up before blowing the smoke out, not caring about how you recently told him how feel about people smoking around you.

"So babe~ How about we catch up on that wish of mine?" His fingers hook around your belt as he pulls you flush against him. Eyes darting around frantically now, no one seems to notice with whom you're standing this close with right now. "No ones here and the ones that are, are either too drunk or don't care and just wanna smoke." His face was beside yours now, as he whispered into your ear, before softly nibbling on the shell of it. Shrieking together at this, making Seonghwa chuckle and snake his arm fully around your waist keeping you flush against himself. "So you want to or not?" Too embarrassed to talk and again out of curiosity you nod. After the short yet intense make-out session with Seonghwa, you couldn't stop thinking about him and how you want him to ravish you.

"Good let's go then, hope your friends won't miss you." Pulling you along now, he makes his way over to the parking lot and his motorcycle. "Here put this on, it's too cold to drive in a short dress like that." Shrugging off his jacket now, he hands it over to you. It was a large black leather jacket, with safety pins on it for decoration, it was huge on you but felt oddly comfortable and calming. Used to it by now, you get on behind Seonghwa and hold on tight to him so you won't fall off before he takes off to his apartment.

Upon arriving there he kicks his shoes off, before grabbing you by the waist and pushing you against the closed door now. "Last chance to back out baby, tell me do you want this?" It surprised you how much he takes value in consent, after answering him with a yes that you want this, his lips are on yours. This kiss was much more heated than the last one you shared, full of lust and emotions. Seonghwas hands were running over your body, over your thighs pushing the trim of your dress up before moving up again to threaten his fingers into your hair.

Pulling on your legs now, he pulls you up onto his hips as he starts to carry you to assuming his room. Before you knew it, your body hit a soft mattress as Seonghwa stood above you, pulling his shirt over his head, gawking at his well-built body now. Of course, you assumed he was well off, but this well? This man looked like a statue, so flawless and perfect. Moving above you again, he starts to kiss you again, as your own hands start to glide over his collarbones to his shoulders and into his hair.

And so Seonghwa gave you a night of pure pleasure and you knew, if you didn't get out soon, you'd be addicted to the pleasure, his touch, and Park Seonghwa himself. If it didn't already happen and was too late for you to escape his grip.

Sunlight was tickling your face softly, as your hand moved to try and shield you from the sun, groaning as it was no use, before turning around. Bumping into something, or rather someone, your eyes grow wide as the last night comes back to you. You slept with Park Seonghwa. Looking at the man before you now, he looked so soft asleep, moving your hand you softly push a strand of hair out of his eyes. Looking down at your body, you were wearing what you assumed was one of Seonghwas's shirts, it was huge and he probably helped you put it on in the after-bliss of last night.

Getting up carefully now, you walk to the door and out of the room to try and find the bathroom. Coming to a halt in the kitchen, when Kim Hongjoong stood before you in his sleepwear. They lived together?! Before you could turn around, he greeted you, making you shy away slightly, a quiet morning before rushing to the bathroom, hearing the man chuckle after you left. This was entirely crazy, you had slept with Seonghwa, Hongjoong knew that now, and your friends probably worried about where you went last night. Finishing your business you quietly exit the bathroom again, hoping to dash for Seonghwa's room, but the man who was sleeping a few minutes ago stood in the kitchen with Hongjoong now. His hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, no shirt on, and the hickeys you left on him on full display.

"And I thought you took off without saying goodbye~" Were his words to you when he noticed you standing in the door frame, his hand moving to softly pull you against him, his head leaning onto yours slightly. "Hongjoong made breakfast, let's eat." This was all so strange, sitting with those two at the kitchen table now and eating eggs with bacon for breakfast.

The morning continued rather calmly, you got ready to leave, and Seonghwa dropped you off at your apartment, where you immediately went to charge your phone which was empty. Upon opening your messenger, you see that probably Seonghwa sent your group chat a message to not worry and that you went home, you would scold him for going on your phone without permission, but also glad he told your friends you were safe.

Using the rest of the weekend to study for your upcoming exam, it was now Monday which meant you and Seonghwa would meet up again for the project. This time it would be at your apartment because Hongjoong had an important online meeting and needed the apartment to be quiet.

For you it was still a bit awkward to sit beside Seonghwa again after what happened just merely two days ago, he however seemed calm and normal as ever, except for the sly glances your way every now and then. "The project is due this Friday, right? You think another session should be enough to finish this?" Thinking for a second, before confirming his question, you two were almost finished, just a few touches here and there. So with no complications, Friday came around and you two-handed in your project, the teacher was seemingly surprised with how well you two worked together.

"So tomorrow a few friends of mine throw a little get-together, do you wanna come around too?" Seonghwa was pulling his bag onto his shoulder now, as he watched you with sharp eyes. Surprised at his invite, you thought he would probably not ever talk to you again as soon as you two-handed the project in. "Oh? Sure, just send me the address!" Agreeing, but after finishing he immediately declines, telling you he would pick you up like always, before leaving the room.

Mingi and Yunho who witnessed the whole conversation pulled you to them, bombarding you with questions about what that was supposed to mean and since when you and Seonghwa were this close, so with a little hesitation you told them everything that happened. Yunho was shocked, to say the least, but supported you, Mingi was terrified and worried for you.

The next evening came around rather quickly, you were getting dressed for the little party Seonghwa invited you to, waiting for him to message you that he was there, while you were still touching up your makeup. Upon receiving a message from him, you make your way downstairs and greet Seonghwa smiling. "Someone seems to be in a happy mood huh~" Pulling you closer, he softly nuzzles his nose against your cheek, pressing a kiss afterward before putting the helmet on you and helping you on. "You know the deal, hold on tightly princess, don't want you falling off~" And with that, the two of you took off.

Arriving at the party, Seonghwa guides you inside the house, it was rather big, and he told you it was one of his friend's parents house, who were away for a few weeks. It was packed full of people, inside and outside. Normally any party you go to isn't this crowded, Seonghwa noticed your discomfort and took your hand in his, guiding you outside to the bar. His hand wandering to your waist now as he waits for your drinks to be ready, while you take in your surroundings. There were a lot of faces you knew from university, but also a lot of strangers, which made you quite uncomfortable and glad that Seonghwa was by your side.

"Hwa! Didn't know you were here already!" Approaching him now was a well-dressed man, followed by Choi San. "Wooyoung! Sorry it's a bit full, I wasn't really able to say hello yet." Turning to the two men now, watching them from behind Seonghwa a bit. Both their eyes fell onto you and the interlocked hands, sending Seonghwa a smirk. After a short conversation the two leave again and Seonghwa turns around to you, apologizing for taking so long. Telling him it's fine, he grabs the two drinks and leads you to one of the little garden benches, sitting down with you and placing your glass in your hand, before leaning back and taking a sip of his own. "Enjoying yourself so far?" His dark eyes were fixated on you. The eyeshadow he was wearing complimented his eyes, he chose a dark red this time with a black, cherry lip tint. His usual leather jacket, a ripped shirt underneath, and ripped jeans where net stockings could be seen through the cuts. "It's a bit fuller than what I'm used to, but it's fine." Being honest with Seonghwa makes him raise an eyebrow, offering for you two to leave if it's too much for you, declining with a shake of your head. You didn't want to ruin the night for him.

After a while of talking, Seonghwas's hand wanders to your naked thigh, softly caressing it while talking to you, Hongjoong joins the two of you, greeting you. Glad the two were talking now, allowing you to calm down and rest a little bit. Seonghwas hand still on your thigh, you softly lean your head on his shoulders with your eyes closed, his scent of vanilla and spice coming to you.

Looking up again when you heard a lighter going off, watching Hongjoong light a cigarette before wanting to pass it to Seonghwa, who declined. "You stopped?" Raising an eyebrow at his friend now. "Only when the little princess is around~" Your eyes widen a little bit as your cheeks blush, before hiding your face in his shoulder again, making the two men chuckle.

The night continued on, Seonghwa getting you two a new drink every now and then, at some point both of you visibly tipsy. Whispering in his ear softly, brave enough to let your hand glide through his hair, to his nape, and down his spine, making him breathe out shakily. "You know, there are some guest rooms upstairs~" His face was nuzzled in your neck, placing soft kisses on your throat, sucking a few times to leave a little red spot. Even in this state, you knew you shouldn't, the first time was one time too much, and the danger of getting addicted to Seonghwa was too big. Yet you're drawn to him. Pulling him into a kiss by the collar, his hands landing on your hips. "Let's go then~" You didn't have to say more as Seonghwa already stood up, taking your hand in his and guiding you into the house and up the stairs. Searching for a free guest room, he leads you in and pushes you onto the bed after making sure the door is locked.

"So pretty and all for me~" Hovering above you now, he sits up a bit to take his jacket and shirt off, before leaning back down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. His tongue swipes along your lips and you allow him immediate entrance. His hands were running wild all over your body, pushing the short dress up, exposing your bottom and soon your chest. Moaning his name softly when his hand came in contact with your breasts. "Yes moan for me, let them know who makes you feel this good~" Whispering those words into your ear now.

And with that, Seonghwa gave you yet another night of pure bliss, waking up next to him the next morning, this time staying out beside him. Admiring his soft features that finally relaxed when asleep, not like over the days when he looked sharp and dangerous, intimidating even. Running your fingers softly through his hair, to his eyebrow which has a slit shaved into it, to his nose, over his cheeks noticing his long eyelashes, and down to his lips. "Having fun baby?" Just now noticing Seonghwa was staring at you, you retreate your hand apologizing to him. "It's fine, you looked cute all concentrated on me~" Pressing a peck on your cheek before getting up and getting dressed, still bare from last night. You were only in Seonghwas's ripped shirt, he probably put it on you after last nights events.

"Get dressed, I wanna go grab some breakfast together~" Leaving the room for a second, before coming back in a new shirt and putting his leather jacket on. Putting this dress on and Seonghwa's shirt over it, so it won't be too revealing before following him outside and down. "Wooyoung if you don't shut up, my brain is killing me and your voice isn't helping." Could be heard from downstairs, you assumed it to be Jongho from the few times you heard him talk. "How much did you even drink to be so hungover? You the heavy weight of us.." Hongjoong spoke this time, following Seonghwa into the living room shily now, slightly hiding behind him. Jongho was lying on the couch with a pillow over his eyes, San still passed out on the other one, while Hongjoong and Wooyoung sat at the bar. "Ah, good morning you two!" Hongjoong greets you with a smirk, knowing exactly what had occurred last night.

After a short chat, Seonghwa announces that you two will be leaving now to go grab some food, saying goodbye to the four men before leading you outside to his motorcycle. The drive to the diner was rather short, he led you inside and into the booth you also worked in the first time. This time he sits down beside you though instead of the opposite. It didn't take long for someone to take your orders and disappear again, making Seonghwa turn his body fully to you, hand resting on your knee. "Are you free this weekend? There is this new movie I'd like to watch." Was he asking you out on a date right now? No, he wouldn't right? "Like a.. date?" Looking questioning at him now, he chuckles lowly. "If you want it to be a date, babe, sure~" His hand found its place on your nape now, caressing and softly playing with your hair.

The food soon came and you two had a nice breakfast, Seonghwa bringing you home. And even sooner Saturday arrived, having you stand in front of your mirror wondering if your outfit is too much or not enough. This would be your first ever real date, so you were rather nervous.

Again Seonghwa picked you up, mustering you from top to bottom before smirking at you. "You look gorgeous, all for me~?" Grabbing your waist as he pulls you against himself, pushing your hair behind your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your lips. "It's not too much?" Your question made him chuckle, telling you how beautiful you look and that it wasn't too much. Arriving at the cinema, Seonghwa softly holds your hand as he leads you over to the ticket counter and then to the food stall, getting you two drinks and popcorn.

Finding the right room you two enter and sit down on your designated seats, there were a few people already, probably to be fuller in a while since it's a movie newly airing. "What shall we do after the movie?" Seonghwa was leaning his body over to you, his arm around your shoulder. "I don't know, maybe go to a cafe? Or we could just hang out at your or my place!" At that his ears peak up, he wasn't at your place yet and was rather excited to visit it. Agreeing with that immediately, the lights dimming now as he stays leaning onto you and watches the movie. Sometimes through the movie, your head starts to lean on his shoulder softly, enjoying the moment.

Sadly the movie and moments are over too soon and quickly you find yourself in front of your apartment. Opening the door and letting Seonghwa in first, he starts looking around immediately making you a bit self-conscious. It was of course clean, maybe a few things here and there, but it was still entirely different from his place. "It's so adorable." Looking around, before stopping in front of your picture wall. There were many different pictures from baby pictures to family photos and Polaroids with friends. A lot of them of Mingi, Yunho and yourself. "That's Mingi and Yunho right?" Pointing at the two men, you're surprised he actually knows their names. "Yeosang is friends with them, he wasn't at the party last time though, so you probably don't know him, he's at another school." That did surprise you, not knowing those two were friends with someone close to Seonghwa. "Though there is definitely missing something.." Looking confused over to him, before scanning the wall. Nothing was missing correct? Did he take something? "..A picture of us~" Whispering those words in your ear now as his arms move around your waist, pressing himself against you. "As soon as I have a picture of us, I'll hang it up!" Smiling brightly at him, you don't know what you're doing to Seonghwa.

The evening continues on with you two playing on your Switch, and cooking something together before watching a show together. He was lying on your chest softly, his arms holding you while focused on the television. It felt nice to be held like this.

Saying goodbye to him with a soft kiss, closing your door, and leaning against it with a big smile. Was this finally the time? Is someone serious with you?

Those thoughts should soon be destroyed though, arriving at the school in a really good mood, you walk over to Yunho and Mingi, greeting them with a big smile. Telling them hushed what happened and how happy you are, they were, of course, happy for you, yet skeptical about how serious Seonghwa is with you. Some glances were exchanged between you and Seonghwa in the class, this not going unnoticed by his friends.

"You're not really serious with her are you?" That voice was Jonghos, halting your movement of packing your things together after the class, listening closely now. "Huh? Of course not, you know I'm not up for commitment." That was Seonghwas voice now, feeling your heart drop. After all that happened, especially last weekend he says this? Was he only leading you on? Yunho who overheard everything too, tried to softly lay his hand on your shoulder, but before he was able to you darted out of the room, not able to hold the tears back for much longer. Yunho was furious, glancing over to Seonghwa who also watched you leave, his gaze meeting Yunhos now. "Asshole." Was all he muttered, before grabbing his bag and leaving the room, leaving behind a confused Mingi who just woke up from his class nap, looking around confused.

Hiding in your favorite spot to do so, under the stairs on one of the more empty sides of the university. Knees pulled up all to your chest, face buried in your knees. Of course, he wasn't serious, it was Park Seonghwa. Did you really think you were special? Your sobs were silenced now when you heard footsteps, hoping the person would leave, but soon black combat boots came into view and soon that handsome face you didn't want to see leans down to look under the stairs. "There you are, princess.." Turning your body away from him now, not trusting your voice to tell him to fuck off.

"Hey I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that.." He was sitting behind you now, his arms softly around your waist as he hugged you softly. "I'll change, for you, so please stay, don't leave me.." His face was pressed against your shoulder as he pulled you flush against him, your back pressed to his chest.

It took a while for you to calm down again, Seonghwa held you through it all, softly patting your head and kissing your hair. After a while you finally turned around, rubbing your eyes as you looked up to see Seonghwa staring at you. "I'm so sorry, I made you cry how can I make it up to you?" Warm fingers softly touching you your cheeks and brushing away the tears. "A dinner would be nice.." A soft pout was visible on your lips which made Seonghwa chuckle, pressing his lips to your forehead now. "Of course, how about you come over today and I'll cook for us? Hm? Hongjoong has work tonight." Agreeing to this, Seonghwa pulls you out from under the stairs and brings you to your next class. Saying goodbye to him before entering.

Yunho immediately rushes over to you worried, having you assure him that you're fine, sitting down beside him, touched by how worried he is for you. The day went by rather quickly, grabbing your bag and meeting up with Seonghwa in the parking lot soon.

"So what do you wanna eat?" Looking at you now as you two arrive in Seonghwas apartment. "Tteokbokki? Or we could make fried chicken!" Looking at him now, he nods getting everything out for both. The cooking process went on rather calmly, you were mostly sitting on the counter, watching Seonghwa cook, exchanging small kisses and hugs here and there. At some point you even put his hair up in a ponytail, smiling at him fondly. Soon the food was finished and you two enjoyed the self-made meal, not having one thought about the things that happened earlier.

"Do you want to stay the night?" Looking up at Seonghwa now, you two were cuddled up on the couch, some movie playing in the background. "I have nothing here to sleep over.." You would love to accept, but you neither have sleepwear nor your hygiene products. "You can wear something of mine and I still have unused toothbrushes." Pondering over his offer a bit, before nodding and accepting.

So the evening went on, you two continuing to watch the movie, before getting ready for bed. Finding yourself in the bathroom alone, looking into the mirror, Seonghwas shirt hanging loosely off of your frame. Brushing your teeth before joining Seonghwa in his room. He was already ready for bed, lying down with a book in his hands, glancing up at you when he heard you enter the room. Laying down beside Seonghwa now, your arm moving around his waist as your head comes to rest on his chest, resulting in Seonghwa laying down his book. "So cuddly~ Are you tired?" Nodding as an answer, your eyes dropping closed, listening to him breathe softly, his chest raising, while his arms go around you. Feeling him press a kiss onto the crown of your head. Not even realizing when you fell asleep.

The next morning your back was turned to Seonghwa, his arms holding onto you tightly, his face nuzzled in your neck. Smiling softly when you looked over to his sleeping face, softly running your hand through his hair and pressing a kiss to his cheek, feeling him slowly stir awake. "Morning~" His voice was raspy and deep this morning making you giggle, watching his sleep drowsy self cuddle closer to you. "We have to get up, school is starting soon." Making him groan softly, shaking his head as he hides his face more in your neck, turning you onto your back to lay on you.

So with Seonghwa not wanting to get up, you two stayed put cuddling and skipping the first lesson of school, arriving for the next class then. Walking into the class you walk over to Mingi, sending Seonghwa a soft smile before sitting down. "You skipped school? With Seonghwa?" Whispering over to you shocked now, you look to the side a bit before nodding, this was the first time you actually did anything like that.

The day then goes on, meeting up with Yunho for lunch and then going to class together then.

"By the way, a new club opened this weekend and maybe we could go? It's been a while since we went." Yunho suggests to the two of you, looking at Mingi before nodding with a smile. It's truly been a while since you three went out together, so you were rather hyped. Telling Seonghwa later that day that you're busy on Saturday with Mingi and Yunho, but that you two could meet up on Sunday which he agreed on. The rest of the week goes by rather quickly, with some time spent with Seonghwa, and one evening with Mingi, and now you're finding yourself beside Yunho in his car, Mingi in the back.

Arriving at the club, a lot of people were already near it, the music from inside was loud and the lights peaking through the door whenever someone went inside. Exiting the car together, the three of you enter the club, thick air hitting your face from how many people are there. Following your friends over to the bar, ordering a drink for now, and looking around, it was full, it was amazing to you how there could even be more people inside still. Your eye notices the orange hair of Hongjoong in a booth, was Seonghwa here too? But before you could look around for him, Mingi dragged you to the dance floor, Yunho watching you two with a smile.

The evening went on, enjoying yourself with Mingi on the dance floor, even Yunho joining you two from time to time, before sitting down at the bar again to drink something with your two boys. Not being able to help yourself but look around the room for Seonghwa again, eyes meeting the ones of San for a second, which go wide from the shock that you're there, before they lock onto Seonghwa, your heart dropping in your chest. On his lap was some girl, sucking his face off, his hands all over her. Without a second thought, you stand up and rush out of the door, Mingi and Yunho are in the bathroom right now, walking off to the side outside a bit, before you lean over and empty your stomach in a bin. Suddenly feeling someone holding your hair back, not being able to glance at them as your stomach decides to empty out all the expensive alcohol.

"It's okay, you're fine.." The deep voice calmed you down a bit, a soft hand rubbing over your back. Standing up again finally, a bit wobbly on your feet, San softly holding your arm as he leads you over to a bench, sitting down beside you. "Do you want some water?" Shaking your head no, your eyes staring down at your feet now, why was this happening? After all that happened, you really thought this could be something serious, that Seonghwa felt something for you. But apparently, you were nothing more than a plaything for him. "He's an idiot, he's drunk out of his head.. He drank too much after seeing you with Yunho today.. It's not an excuse but, I believe he truly likes you.." San was such a nice person, trying to calm you down, holding your hair, and now trying to explain the situation to you. Tears were pricking at your eyes now, a soft sob leaving your lips, before your tears could even escape, San pulled you onto his shoulder for you to cry. "It's okay, you're safe, cry as much as you need." Sans's hand was softly rubbing up and down your back, as he leaned back and stared up into the starry night sky.

After a good half an hour, Yunho and Mingi join you outside, Yunho squatting down in front of you, his hands softly resting on your knees. "Hey beautiful, Hongjoong told me what happened, wanna go home?" Your eyes cast down again, looking at Yunhos hands, noticing the blood on his knuckles, but not questioning anything about it as you nod. You wanted nothing more than to get home and cry into your pillow, which would probably still smell like Seonghwa after the last time he slept over.

Yunho softly helped you up, thanking San for his help who just nodded, also noticed the blood on his knuckles, as he watched you leave with Yunho and Mingi. Before he could join his group inside again after watching you drive off, his friends came outside, Seonghwa leaning onto Hongjoong, an ice pack held against his jaw. "Good job, you fucked up with the only girl that felt something for you other than wanting to fuck you, seriously get a grin Hwa, I'm disappointed." San was someone who hated when people played with others' feelings like that, that's also why he immediately rushed after you when you went outside, the reason he stayed with you, and the reason he now walks in the other direction of his friends.

Yunho and Mingi just dropped you off at your place, telling them to go home and that you would be fine, watching them drive off before going into your apartment. Closing the door behind you, as you slide down the door, not even bothering to turn the lights on. Legs pulled up to your chest as you hid your face in your knees, the position and situation oh so familiar. Your body does not even have enough energy anymore to stand up and move to your bed or even couch, resulting in you falling asleep on the floor and waking up with a headache and back pain the next day.

Look around a bit as you sit up, rubbing over your eyes as you slowly stand up, walking over to your kitchen to grab a glass of water before sitting down on your couch, the events of last night resurfacing again making tears well up again in your eyes. This all felt so surreal, Seonghwa acted so sweet and loving once and act like an asshole the next. The day went on with you crying, eating ice cream, crying, and watching a comfort movie. Till your phone lights up, one of your girlfriends messaging you, Soyeon telling you that Yunho told her what had happened. She was one of the closest female friends you had and Yunho probably thought you just needed some female support right now, not being mad at him for telling her.

You want to answer her, but the next moment a knock at the door makes you look up. Walking over to open, seeing Soyeon and Yuqi together, bags in their hands as they hug you tightly. "You know fuck that guy, we'll doll you up and go out. No disgusting club, but this high-end lounge!" Soyeon pushes you into the bathroom, telling you to take a shower. Sighing a bit, despite not being in the mood, you appreciate it and do as they tell you. Coming out again they sit you down on your couch, getting started on your makeup, hair, and nails, turning you prettier than you felt in a while.

So soon you found yourself in Soyeons car, on the way to that longue they were talking about, short yet modern dress on your body, your hair and makeup done beautifully. Inside you three get shown to a booth, sitting down as you scan through the menu of drinks, ordering your favorite beverage. The evening goes by smoothly, you are enjoying yourself, even getting up to dance with one of the girls now and then. It was an entirely different setting than the club last night and you had to admit you enjoyed this so much more. It was more comfortable and enjoyable.

That was until you decided to go up to the bar to get another drink, Soyeon and Yuqi were on the dancefloor right now. When you suddenly feel someone lay a hand on your waist, turn around to push the hand away. "Excuse me, could you please not touch me?" The man in front of you was dressed rather well, but oh damn was he ugly. "Oh come on babe, don't be like that~ I could show you some good time hm? Can even pay you~" He grabbed your waist now, pulling you against himself which made you so disgusted, this didn't feel like when Seonghwa did it, Seonghwa was soft yet dominant, this man was simply a pervert and disgusting. "Let go! Leave me alone!" Trying to push the man away, you looked around behind the counter but the bartender was nowhere to be seen until you felt the man let you crash into the bar before falling to the floor.

"Listen when my girl tells you to leave her alone." Before you could even look at the man beside you he spoke up, Seonghwas voice echoing through the longue, the man stood up again ready to punch Seonghwa back, who quickly pushed you behind him and landed another hit on the man's face. Landing a kick to his chin when he was on the floor, before turning to you, grabbing your hand, and dragging you to the exit. And even further outside, Seonghwa didn't let go and pulled you even further away from the longue.

"Seonghwa you're hurting me! Let go!" Trying to pull your wrist away, trying to stop him. He finally stops making you almost crush into his back. "What's gotten into you?! First, you say we aren't serious, then you screw around with some bitch yesterday and now you beat someone up and pull me away?! Explain it!" He wasn't looking at you, probably trying to find his words. By now the makeup Yuqi so carefully put onto you was being washed off by your tears. Tears of confusion, anger, and sadness. "I have no way to excuse The first thing I know this is that, I saw you and Yunho so close yesterday. I got drunk and wasn't thinking straight, then I saw this asshole touch you right now. I'm sorry.." Seonghwa finally turned to you, meeting your eyes, hesitatingly reaching out to wipe the tears away, scared you would pull away and leave him for good. Your eyes move to his hand, grabbing it softly and analyzing it, seeing the second time in two days that someone's knuckles bleed.

"Why do you have to be so confusing? I.. I though we could be something more, something serious.." Your fingers softly rub over the back of his hand, looking up at him now, eyes blurry from tears, seeing the bruise on his jaw and just a little bit you thank Yunho and think Seonghwa deserves it. "I'm not used to commitment, I never had a serious relationship and.. I. scared, I know I'm not good enough but.. please give me one last chance." Tears were building up in his eyes now and you're pretty sure, you're the first one to see Seonghwa cry. Your hand reaches up to his face softly, brushing the tears away. "One last chance, if you screw over again I'll leave.." His eyes widen, probably not thinking you would give him one last chance, nodding now as sobs leave his lips, his arm reaching out to you and pulling you against him as he cries his heart out, same as you, tears running freely. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..I love you.." You two simply hold each other tightly under the night sky.

"Wooyoung shut up!" Hongjoong put down the popcorn on the table as he scolded the young man, who just points his tongue at him, making the older one wonder if he was an adult or a child. "He won't change, we just gotta accept that." Mingi laughs as he settles down beside San and Yeosang, grabbing a handful of candy from the bowl on Sans's lap. "And that's why we love him." You giggle, making Seonghwa let out a gasp. "I thought you only loved me!" Looking over at your boyfriend now, as Yunho stands behind him and laughs. "She loves all of us, gets used to it." Running away to the couch to Mingi before Seonghwa could hit him for his words.

"He's right but. I love you the most~" Pulling him down for a soft kiss, hearing some gagging noise of San and Wooyoung from the couch. After sitting down with Seonghwa, Hongjoong turns to the two of you. "By the way, it's your third anniversary soon isn't it? Have you two planned something?" Looking over to Seonghwa now, you two haven't talked about any plans yet, but he just smirked at you. "Maybe I booked us a two-week trip to Paris~" Looking at him shocked now, he didn't right? Seonghwa did earn enough now after university with his job to do this, but you didn't think he actually would. "You didn't right?" He just smiled at you, as you threw your arms around him and planted kisses all over his face, telling him how excited you are to go there together. Not knowing the small velvet box sitting on his nightstand was also ready to be taken there.

[drewsbuzzcut]

Spoiled Rotten

Mat Barzal x model!fem!reader

A visceral in doses fic

Warnings: smut!

Takes place Oct 2024

You stroll up to your apartment, your hair thrown into a messy bun and sunglasses perched on the bridge of your nose. In one hand is the key to your home, and the other holds the handle of your luggage. Your phone is squeezed between your cheek and shoulder as you giggle with your best friend, Beverly.

“Ugh I know! Who knew phone sex could be so exciting and fulfilling?!” You squeal into the phone as you walk through the door. You fight off a blush, but it only grows more furious as you notice what’s waiting inside for you.

On your kitchen counter stands two large bouquets of tulips and roses- your favorites. Next to the vases rests two boxes. One is quite large and pink. The other is smaller in comparison and velvet.

You’re silent for a brief moment, taking everything in. Beverly doesn’t even notice you’re silent as she’s too busy rattling off a story about her boyfriend. You’ll have to ask her to repeat herself once you’re not distracted anymore. The note sticking out of your bouquet keeps you for a moment longer.

“Congrats on your Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show debut. I couldn’t be more proud of my supermodel girlfriend. I love you, baby.” - Mat

Of course your sweet boyfriend provided these gifts. He loves spoiling you, and he takes full advantage of any time he gets to celebrate you. Your body fills with want, but it quickly subsides, knowing that he’s not in New York yet. He will be soon, though.

“Bev, you will never believe what I came home to,” you interrupt her, a giddy smile permanently stretching your lips.

You smirk and struggle to suppress a giggle at her response. Something about a naked Mat waiting on your couch. You wish.

“No. Flowers, like two huge bouquets. There’s also an Agent Provocateur box and a velvet box that probably contains something more expensive than my flight home,” you list off your gifts.

“Oh, your man has good taste. Have you opened the boxes?”

“No. I’m nervous. I feel like I’m about to explode. I’m literally shaking,” you sigh.

“Girl! What are you waiting for? Dig in!” Beverly shrieks. You can hear the grin in her tone.

You eagerly tear into the pink box holding your newest lingerie set. Butterflies fill your stomach, because a boy has never bought you lingerie before. But Mat isn’t a boy, he’s a man. A man that knows the woman he loves and that turns you on like no other.

Once you remove the tissue paper, you’re met with the daintiest, deep navy blue lingerie set. It’s all lace, leaving very little to the imagination. The front of your thong has your jaw on the floor. In orange, cursive embroidery says, “Barzal.”

“Beverly, it says ‘Barzal’ on the thong!” You practically cheer.

“Holy shit. That’s hot. Wait… you do like it, right?”

“Of course! I love it. It’s such a hot number and I cannot wait to wear it for him.”

Gently setting it aside, you move onto the velvet box. You close your eyes, wanting it to be a surprise. A gasp falls from your lips as you lay your eyes on the thin, gold watch. It has diamonds encrusted on the sides and it’s so shiny.

“It’s a gold watch. It’s dainty and has diamonds. I am truly at a loss for words,” you whisper into the phone.

“He loves you bad. I need pictures of everything asap,” Bev demands.

“On it- oops hold on. There’s someone knocking on my door.”

You look through the peephole, a scream bursting through its confinement when you see Mat waiting patiently.

“Bev, I have to go. Mat just got here. Meet for lunch tomorrow?”

“Sure thing. Enjoy your dick appointment.”

“I will,” you laugh and hang up.

Throwing the door open, you pull Mat inside and straight into a kiss.

“Fuck. I love you. When did you get home?” You breathe into him before sucking his tongue into your mouth.

“Early this morning. We were able to catch an earlier flight and I knew it was my opportunity to surprise you,” Mat says with a heaving chest and his forehead resting on yours.

“And surprise me you did,” you gleam, looping your arms around his neck and fully leaning into him.

“Do you like what I bought you, pretty girl?” He hums, face going to your neck. He noses at your pulse point and then sucks on your sweet spot. You let out a moan as he lowers his hands to your ass.

“I love it, baby. I can’t wait to put on my watch. It’s so gorgeous. I can’t wait to see my flowers every time I come home, and for you to fuck me in my new lingerie,” you whisper in his ear.

You subtly look at him to catch his reaction. A smirk fixes your lips when you see the way his eyes melt in desire.

“I can’t wait to see you look like the angel that you are. However, before we get to that, I want to take you out. Maybe to that small jazz restaurant you love,” he suggests, but his hands do most of the talking with the way they roam your body.

He refers to the restaurant as a place you love- which is true. He loves it just as much as you, though. You’ve shared many intimate moments there. His hands have settled on yours thighs when he leans closer to whisper in your ear; his lips have found your bare shoulder many times in chaste kisses as he watches you enjoy the music; his hands find your hips and the curve of your ass when you both occasionally indulge in a slow dance on the small, crowded dance floor. Chills zip down your spine just thinking about it.

“That sounds so perfect. But before I agree to any date, I think you should join me in the shower,” you hum, biting down on your bottom lip and pulling him to your bathroom.

It’s not much later that your bathroom is filled with steam and the sounds of you panting. Your back is pressed into the cold, wet tiles of your shower cabin. Water falls onto Mat’s large body and drips onto your smaller frame. His tongue flicks at yours as you meet in an open-mouth kiss. You both fight for dominance, but you quickly submit when he finally slides into your wet heat. A soft gasp falls from your lips and gets swallowed by his mouth.

His hips move softly, barely moving at all, so he can feel you stretch as you get adjusted. When you grab onto his shoulders and jut your hips up, he pushes into you fully. Mat’s body vibrates with a thrill that can only be caused by the tightness of your pussy as you suck him back in.

“Fuck. I love the way you make me feel,” you whine, eyes locked on his. The soft hazel color turns into something dark, more earthy than they already appear.

“I love the way you feel wrapped around me. Your pussy was made for my cock, baby,” Mat voices in a confident hum. The words get smothered on the hinge of your jaw by his lips.

“Oh yeah, Maty? I was made for you? Prove it, baby,” you tease and squeeze down on his length.

“Holy shit,” he sighs, muscles tensing before he locks in, grabbing onto your thigh and hauling it up and around his hip.

He pumps into you to the rhythm of your moans. His greedy hands grab at your flesh, squeezing you tighter to him. The tip of his cock prods into the deepest parts of you, making goosebumps dot your skin and your limbs rattle in ecstasy.

“I love you,” you chant through a muffled cry against Mat’s lips.

He sucks on your tongue, savoring every drop of you that’s reserved for him only. His hand travels to the back of your neck, tangling in your hair. A hiss escapes your throat when his teeth nip at the pulse point in your neck. Your heart beats crazily, fire bubbles in your veins and an earth-shattering orgasm starts to invade your senses.

“I love you,” he mutters, gripping your chin in his hand and bringing your mouth back to his.

Time seems to slip from your grip as your release washes over, drowning you in euphoria. You can barely feel Mat sucking on the flesh of your boobs, not when your vision turns into starbursts and your limbs feel like gelatin.

“Fuck,” Mat groans, hands finding your hips to keep you steady as he thrusts into you faster, chasing his own orgasm.

You shiver and cuddle closer to Mat, wrapping a hand around his upper back and neck. The thick cords of his muscles turn solid before going flaccid as he releases inside of you.

His heart thuds against his chest, almost tempting an escape. Mat so gently holds onto you, but eventually his strong body melts into your embrace. His forehead meets your shoulder, wet strands of hair tickling your jaw.

You suck his earlobe in between your lips. Dull nails dig into the plushness of your skin, making your pussy contract and pulse around him.

“You’re perfect,” Mat mutters in a half moan. He feels his cock spring back to life with the way you softly rock into him, luring him back to his personal heaven.

“No, you are,” you reply, nosing at his cheek while you enjoy the warmth created by the both of you.

“You know you’re spoiled rotten?” Mat breaks the peaceful silence, fingers gathering at your sides to pinch and tickle you.

“Am not,” you state with a sassy roll of your eyes.

“It literally took like less than 2 minutes for you to get me naked,” he claims, chin in the air as if no excuse you give will waiver his statement.

“I think you enjoy being wrapped around my finger. It’s not like I forced you to take off your clothes, so don’t complain, baby,” you hum.

Before he can respond, you place your lips on his, your tongue invading his mouth and all of his words falling silent.

a/n: Enjoy babes!!!

[ily-fictional-women]

Holiday Spirit

Summary: The Christmas spirit is something that should always be shared 

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader + platonic!Maria Hill x fem!reader

Warnings: Not proofread (yet)

Word count: 1155

a/n: Happy holidays! I’ll try and get out another fic that isn’t about Christmas sooner than later for those who don’t celebrate. Sorry again for this being so late. (Reblogs are welcome and critiques/advice are heavily encouraged, but please no translating.)

Tossing her duffle bag on the floor Y/n flops onto her bed face first with a sigh of relief. Missions can last longer than expected sometimes— but it’s worse when they’re stake-out missions that last longer than expected. Almost on the edge of sleep, there is a knock on the door to her bunk.

Y/n groans into her pillow, “Who is it?” 

“It’s Santa, and you, my trusty elf, are needed in my toy factory.” Begrudgingly Y/n gets out of bed opening the door with Maria on the other side. Maria grins, “You look like shit.” Shooting Maria a quick glare Y/n rolls her eyes. “This,” Y/n gestures to her face, “is due to a twenty four hour solo stake-out mission. Also, you do know you’re only an inch taller than me right? If I’m an elf, so are you.” 

“Woah woah woah, no need to get defensive Y/l/n. Anyways, I just came by to see if you were up for Christmas with my Mom again this year. Maybe you could even bring Natasha, I’ve been telling my Mom about you and her.” 

“Yeah I’ll go, and that’s a good idea. I’ll ask her later tonight.” Maria nods before walking away, “Great!” Before closing the door Y/n catches her, “Oh and Hill, what have you been  telling your Mom?” 

Maria smiles, “Just the truth and what I see, you two are good together don’t worry.” 

//

Softly knocking on the door Natasha opens it, “Hey detka, how did the mission go?” Y/n shrugs still tired after the nap she took. “It was okay, are you busy right now though?” Cracking a smile Natasha rolls her eyes, “For you? Never, get in here.” 

“You look nice right now by the way.”

“Are you serious?” Natasha asks as they both begin to lounge on the small bed in the room. Y/n sits up a little to face Natasha better, “Yeah I’m serious, the messy half up half down bun look is cute. I like it a lot. Plus it’s just nice to see you in non-mission clothes.” 

“Well then thank you.” Natasha tucks one of Y/n’s stray hairs away abstenmindly beginning to play with it, “Did you need something though?” 

“Right, yeah. I just wanted to ask if you wanted to come with Maria and I to her Mom’s place for Christmas. I usually have fun but I think it’d be more fun with you there.” 

“I’d love that.”

//

Ringing the doorbell there’s an immediate faint sound of bells jingling. The door swings open to the sight of Elizabeth Hill in a ugly Christmas sweater coverd in bells, pom poms, and LED lights. 

“Girls!” Elizabeth immediately pulls all three women into a tight hug. “Hi mom.” Maria pats the woman on the back struggle to move. “It’s good to see you too Beth,” Y/n croaks out being sandwiched between the other women.  

Letting go of everyone Elizabeth begins shaking Natasha’s hand vigorously, “It’s good to me you by the way Natasha. Maria has told me a lot of good things about you. Oh I love your shirt! Is it red silk or-” Maria quickly interrupts. “Mom. Can we come inside.” 

“Oh! Yes, yes everyone come in! And Maria dear, maybe you would be warmer if you had a leather jacket with some lining like a told you last year.” Entering the home it is fully covered in decorations of candycanes and colorful lights with a large tree in the living room decorated with a mix of generic ornaments and homemade ones over the years. 

In the dinning room though sits two premade gingerbread house surrounded by bowls of snacks to decorate them with. Elizabeth smiles, “Now usually I buy one for everyone but I figured since we have even numbers this year we could do teams. Lets say mother and daughter versus the cute new couple?” 

Natasha grabs a piping bag of icing giving Elizabeth a mock scowl, “Absolutly just know you’re going to loose.”

“Ooh I like that energy, Maria dear you need to bring someone home like her.” As Maria sighs rolling her eyes Y/n looks at Natash with a quirked eyebrow and a grin. Natasha looks up from the ginger bread house and at Y/n, “What? I can be competitive. Now are you going to help or not?” 

As Y/n gives a nod of confirmation the kitchen dining table immediately becomes a battlefield. Icing tubes all over the table like artillery, random cadies spread out like ammunition, and a mix of orders and arguing coming from the mouths of both teams. On one side of the table being Maria and Elizabeth who are arguing about candy cane placement. 

The other side consisting of Natasha and Y/n with Natasha so lazer focused on the gingerbread house she making to notice the mess beginning to grow around it on herself. On the other hand Y/n is making and decorating marshmallow people as instructed by Natasha. 

Looking up at the enemies across from them Elizabeth uses the last trick she can think of to try and get ahead. She blurts out, “Natasha did you know Y/n and Maria made a band in highschool.” 

“Mom!” 

“Beth!”

As Maria and Y/n both yell at the woman at the same time Natasha looks up from the gingerbread house slowly putting down the gumdrops she was using to decorate with. “Do you have pictures,” Natasha asks as she moves closer the woman. Elizabeth grins mischevously, “Better. I have pictures, videos, and the shirts they made for the band.” 

“Oh I need to see this.” Natasha follows Elizabeth to the livingroom as Maria and Y/n look at eachother mortified. Hearing giggling already begin to erupt from the living room Y/n launches a distraction. 

“Nat, under any circumstances do not come back in here. I may or may not have messed up the gingerbread house.” In the blink of an eye Natasha is standing in the doorway of the dinning room staring daggers into Y/n.

“You. Did. What?” Y/n puts up her hands defensively slowly walking up to her, “Nothing. I did nothing. I was just trying to steal you away for a minute.” Natasha lets out a sigh of relief, “Don’t do that again.” 

“Sure, sure. But I will be honest with you it’s kind hard to take you seriously when you have frosting on your nose,” as Y/n says that she wipes it off for her leading to a sudden flash near them. 

The two look over to see Elizabth taking out a small picture from a polaroid before pointing above the two. “Misltoe you two!” Elizabeth says with glee as she readies her camera. As the two kiss and a camera flashes once more Natasha smiles softly at Y/n, “This is a great Christmas, thank you.”

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

AHOY THERE!

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Harrington!Fem!reader Summary: Eddie's crush comes into scoops, and he tries Steve's pick-up lines on you Warnings: none? A/N- you can just pretend it's s4 and scoops and mall never burnt down or whatever floats your boat. also this is quite short

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

꙳•˚܀♡🍦♡܀˚•꙳

"when you greet them, all you have to do is say, ahoy ladies!" Steve tried explaining to Eddie who sat down in their break room, his feet up on the table as he listened boredly

"most of the time, they'll ask you for recommendations, this is where you say, you can try my flavour, and wink at them" Steve finished proudly with a smile.

"Steve that's fucking gross, Eddie don't listen to him, this guy hasn't picked up one girl since he's gotten here" Robin came in and rolled her eyes

"that is not true!" Steve fought, frowning like a kid

"oh yeah? when was the last time you had a date?" Robin chuckled, going to the table and sitting down

"hey, hey, hey. what do you think you're doing?" Steve pointed out to the door, motioning for her to get back out front

"i've been the only one scooping for 20 minutes now while you give terrible advice to Eddie, one of you two go out there for once!"

Eddie raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest, watching as the pair bicker in amusement

"it's good advice, Robin! you just don't understand. it's the stupid hat!" the Harrington boy huffed in frustration

Robin didn't need to say anything, instead, she pointed at the white board on the wall, smiling sarcastically "oh yeah? what does the board say, Steve?"

the bell out front rang a few times, although the pair continued to bicker. making Eddie sigh and stand up

"i'll get it" the munson boy said only to be ignored, making him chuckle and go to the front, ready to greet the customer

Eddie had gotten this job a few weeks ago, maybe about a month now for some extra cash, instead of just selling drugs.

He had talked about wanting an actual job and Steve had suggested Scoops Ahoy, as it was only him and Robin and they could use the help, so when they finally put up the hiring signs, Eddie was the first to put his application in, and it was an easy hire as Steve and Robin put in a good word.

Steve and Eddie weren't good friends then, but mutual due Dustin, so Steve did whatever to help a friend of a friend, due to the nagging of Dustin to help Eddie get the job.

but here Eddie was, actually becoming friends with 'King Steve' and woking with him

"hi, what can i get for you" Eddie put on a fake smile before looking up, his face dropping when Jason Carver and a few of his friends came to view

"aren't you supposed to say Ahoy?" Jason smirked cockily

Eddie tapped his foot and cleared his throat, not finding it funny

"say it freak!" One of his goons spat

Eddie knew if he fought back, he'd probably be fired, so when he looked back up at the jocks, he put a fake smile on his face and complied

"ahoy, what can i get for you"

the jocks laughed and ordered their ice creams, not bothering to leave a tip before they leave.

Eddie looks down, clicking his tongue in an unsurprised manner, expecting nothing less than the jocks to give him a hard time, ordering every flavour and telling him off to give them a bigger scoop

he sighed before looking up, jumping at the sight of you, on the other side of the counter, smiling gently up at him

"Ahoy there!" he almost yelled at you in fright, making you jump in surprise

"sorry, thought I'd give you a second" you looked up, trying not to laugh at the sight of him in the uniform.

it was unnatural for Eddie Munson to wear something so...bright and flashy, as he usually rocked ripped tanks of metal bands and ripped jeans, adorned in chains.

but no chain was in sight, no hues of black or dark red, no chunky rings adorning his slender, rough fingers, and his wild hair pulled back into a bun, frizzy strands coming out of the elastic as the hat on his head sits at a lopsided angle. he looked... odd. and not in the way he usually did, standing out like a sore thumb, it looked strange, and you preferred the way he dressed, at least it suited him

Eddie noticed you holding back a laugh and he was quick to take the hat off of his head, staring at you like a deer in front of headlights as he struggled to find words, embarrassed that you had to see him like this

you were so beautiful, especially to Eddie, quickly harbouring a crush on you as soon as you sent a kind smile to him in the halls on one of the first days of his 3rd senior year, the first person to ever do that, it was strange for him, to have someone- a girl- look at him with such kindness, so much so he looked back to make sure it was aimed at him. he couldn't believe it, you, a pretty girl amongst your friends, smiling at him as you walked past him.

he thought it was a cruel joke, that maybe it was out of pity from the beating he had gotten the period before lunch, maybe you were trying to hide your laugh as you looked at the bruises that decorated his face and body.

he had told himself it was that until you smiled at him again, looking at him from your locker a few lockers down from his own, a wide smile on your face before hiding behind the door as soon as he caught you- now that wasn't nothing, he thought to himself before hearing your locker shut as he continued putting his books away

he watched you walk towards him in the corner of his eye and his heart had skipped a beat when you mumbled a sweet 'Hi' as he turned to glance at you, he looked into his locker and double backed before almost yelling out a hello, a voice crack slipping from his throat.

he almost thought you didn't notice it, but when you looked back, wide eyes and a giggle leaving your plush lips, he blushed, turning away and shutting his locker, walking hastily in the opposite direction

he was brought back to reality as you looked back

"Jason and his goons giving you a hard time again?" you spoke sadly

Eddie frowned, looking over your shoulder as he saw Jason and his friends walk out and turn left

he had to think quick, because if he thinks to long about his words, he will stutter and speak gibberish and continue to embarrass himself Infront of you, and he couldn't do it to himself, not any more

"Eh, nothing I can't handle" he huffed, leaning against the table, trying to play it cool

you tilted your head, an upside-down smile making its way onto your lips as you spoke "well I'm glad their ice-cream didn't land on you, wouldn't want to ruin this amazing outfit you got on here" you joked, motioning to his uniform

he straightened his back, standing up, looking down at himself

"oh this? yeah. I reckon I look better in it than Steve back there" he motioned to the back room, where you can hear bickering

"better looking than King Steve? no one would dare say that if they want to live" you shook your head

the door behind Eddie flung open as Steve walked out

"I would kill him, but he does most of the work here ever since he got employed, wouldn't get much time off, would I?" he shrugged, patting Eddie on the back before hopping on the bench Infront of the tinted window, flipping his scooper in his hand

"ah, making the rookie do everything while you slack off? why aren't I surprised?" you smirked at Steve, watching him smile dumbly at him

"it's what I do" he winked before you gagged

you looked back at Eddie, frowning when he stood there staring at you.

"Eddie?" you waved your hand in front of his face, beaming when he blinked

"sorry, uh...what would you like?" he mumbled, picking up his scooper from the belt of his pants

"um...I'm not sure...what would you suggest, what's the best flavour in your opinion?" you asked

Eddie stopped himself before saying his favourite flavour, instead frowning, thinking back to what Steve had said.

there was no world where Eddie Munson would try out Steve Harrington's pick up lines, especially on you- because...well.. you're YOU.

well- expect for this world, as it seems the words slipped out of his mouth in a rush you could barely hear.

"You-could-try-my-flavour" he panted

Steve choked on the milkshake he was sipping on as Eddie spoke the words, he had so many times, every time leaving him with some sort of ice-cream on him

your eyes widened "what?"

"yeah, what?" Steve hopped off of the counter, standing beside Eddie to make sure he was ok

Eddie had found a confidence in himself he never felt before, looking at you in front of him, being so kind had given him the mindset that maybe there was a chance.

and maybe there was.

"you heard me" he gulped, licking his lips

you took a moment to process what had happened before you looked down, feeling the blush rise to your cheeks, embarrassment filling your body

"did you just use one of Steve's pick up lines on me?" you looked back up sheepishly, seeing him nod

"I did"

"you do know they never work. he hasn't got laid in months" you shook your head

before Steve could protest, Eddie pushed him away

"Somone's gotta prove that they work, even if it's not him" he raised his eyebrows, almost like it was a challenge

"so you want to prove Steve is bad at flirting by making them succeed on you?" you wondered, laughing loudly

"more or less, yeah" he nodded eagerly

"well...If I get to prove Steve wrong then I guess I have to, who would I be to refuse?" you stifled a laugh, taking one of the napkins and a pen on his side of the counter and writing down your home phone number

you slid it towards him with a grin on your face "how about you take me on a date first?"

he took the napkin and nodded, looking down at the love heart you had placed in the corner

"Y-yeah...I'll take you out... I'll call you" he blinked, watching you giggle.

you looked down and agreed

"I'll talk to you later then..." you bit your lip, trying to conceal how happy you are

"Yeah...tonight?" he asked, putting the napkin on the bench beside him, where Steve had just been sitting

"tonight sounds good" you nodded before giving him a shy wave, saying goodbye

"bye, Steve, say hi to Robin for me" you said before walking out of the shop

"bye!" Eddie had yelled out, his voice slightly cracking, blushing as you turned around and laughed

Eddie couldn't believe it, he had just landed a date with you, the girl he had had a crush on for so long now. and even more, made Steve look like an idiot.

Best. Day. Ever

the window opened as you had left the shop, Robin peeking out with the white board

"Eddie has you zero to one, Steve, how does that feel?" she smiled, putting a strike on a new collum titled 'Eddie'

"shut up" Steve huffed, crossing his arms across his chest, shaking his head

꙳•˚܀♡🍦♡܀˚•꙳

this has been in my drafts since April, there's over 30 drafts in my box that I've just left untouched for ages. should I finish and post them?

[weeping-statue]

YOU ARE ONTO SOMETHINGG

ALRIGHT ALRIGHT I GOT THIS LEMME COOK🫶

“I Don’t Care What You Think As Long As It’s About Me.”

I don’t care- fallout boy

Richard Sterling x AFAB!Reader

A little long 😔 also Richard fans please!!! Lemme know if this is good!!! I need feedback guys cause then I just think my work is buns😞

Positive and negative (politely) feedback is appreciated 🫶

So from what I saw, or should I say what we saw, we definitely know he’s a manipulator.

For whatever reason, you caught his eye, probably because you had money, but anyways, he knew he had to have you. All to himself. He doesn’t like to share. And he doesn’t play nice.

It started off gently with flirty lines and kind gestures to mask what he was really planning. And you almost could tell. He had this feeling to him that something just wasn’t right. But he was kind and surely you were just overthinking.

Spoiler, you were wrong.

So wrong.

He had approached you one day after he felt like he had done enough for you to favor him, and confessed. Reaching his hand out to you.

“Ah my dear, you’re special.. and I must have you. Please, give me your hand, let me court you properly.”

But you declined, respectfully, it didn’t feel right.

Richard looked at you a little stunned. What..? You were supposed to say “yes.” Not “no.” What was wrong with you? He had done so much to make you fall and you’ve declined him? This.. no he wasn’t going to stand for this. He grabbed the nearest object and whacked you in the head with it. Hard enough for you to black out.

When you awoken dazed and confused, with a pounding headache. You saw him brushing your hair with his fingers. A light ‘comforting’ smile sketched on his face. You couldn’t remember much, and looked at him with those curious eyes, asking him what had happened. To which he answered,

“Just a little tumble, my love. When I couldn’t catch you in time, I was devastated. But that doesn’t matter anymore, you’re fine now, and we are in due time to be joined in matrimony.”

You nodded and leaned into his touch. He seemed to care about you, and with your current situation you had to trust him. For now.

Months had gone by and you hadn’t a clue you were saddled in a relationship made of lies.

Richard during this definitely acted a tad suspicious. Either love bombing you or keeping you at an odd distance. Getting overly paranoid and possessive when any males come by you. Simple conversations or not. He’d have rules in place for you, making you heavily dependent on him. Though when he’d get annoyed he’d push you away without a second thought, not apologizing.

What a confusing(red flag)guy

So finally here is where the song comes into play <3

Richard was acting a bit more paranoid than usual. Biting his lip till it bled, pulling at his hair, biting his nails, and mumbling to himself as he stalked you from a distance. He watched as you and Kevin hung out, talking aimlessly about the previous matches. He was flirty and touchy, and loud, and obnoxious. Something that didn’t belong around you. You, in his eyes, were something from the heavens. You deserved better. You deserved him. In a moment of paranoia and anger he came from the shadows he hid in and grabbed you by the arm, whisking you away. Closing the door to the nearest room which happened to be the library. His hands gripping your shoulders as slammed you against the books, leaning down with a crazed look, mumbling to you,

“Say my name and his in the same breath. I dare you to say they taste the same. How he can compare to me. He doesn’t love you, not like I do. He’s a no good, scoundrel, liar and fiend. Unworthy of your attention. These friends you have, don’t love you. They only love your generosity.”

For the rest of the day you were attached to him and he didn’t let you out of his sight for a moment. Even taking it as far to move into your room for the night. Claiming he didn’t trust the people in the manor.

All while poor Kevin was so confused😞

Sorry Kevin, your no fiend <3

trust ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ )

————————————————-

Sorry Kevin lovers for doing your man like that😞 BUT let me have redemption if you bring me a Kevin fic idea..? Or.. perchance headcanons..? ANYWAYS LOVE YOU GUYS!!!

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Older Eddie x Reader

Smutty, slightly angsty mini fic, minors shoo, 18+

🖤

You shouldn't be here. You knew that. But after a final fight with your boyfriend Dominic you had come to the one person that you felt safe with.

Eddie Munson's reputation in the town proceeded him, he was the big bad wolf that everyone should stay away from, had woman eating out of the palm of his hands and didn't give a fuck what anyone though.

Eddie was your next door neighbour and you'd been intrigued by him from the minute you seen him.

He was also so fucking hot. Panty dropping hot, and you were having the best sex of your life with him for the last few weeks.

You knock on his door and he opens it, he's standing all smug, a giant smirk on his face. "What brings you here at this time princess?"

He knows what you're doing here he always knows but he's just teasing you, tying you up in knots with how good he looked. His messy curls are tied up in a bun and he's wearing those jeans that makes his ass look amazing, the leather jacket that you loved.

"Let me guess? Dominic was being an asshole and you came running to me to make you feel better hmm sweetheart?" he plays with a strand of your hair, it flusters you immediately. His touch never fails to send you in a spin.

"I really like being with you Eddie" you murmur and it's the truth. The honesty in your voice must throw him as he's quiet for a minute.

"You like how I make you come so hard that you almost black out. That I fuck you senseless and in a way that your useless prick of a boyfriend could never do ... and princess? It's my fucking pleasure" he murmurs and tugs you close to him.

He's so cocky, so sure of himself but it's not like he isn't telling the truth.

"Get on the bed sweetheart. When I'm done with you, you won't even remember that dickheads name"

...

Eddie moves to kiss your neck, uses his fingers to pleasure you, pumping in and out of your sweet spot and sending spasms of pleasure through.

He's made quick work of your clothes and thrown them on the floor, along with his jeans. His lips move down your body and it's like they are everywhere, burning into your skin.

It's been a few days since you were last here and you've missed this. The exquisite pleasure only Eddie could give you.

Eddie is in no hurry to rush any of this, takes his time as works you into a frenzy, has you so wet and mewling for him.

"Please Eddie, I need you" You moan and his brown eyes fill with amusement as he strokes your cheek, his lips hover over yours.

"Oh sweetheart you're so fucking needy for me, does your limp dick boyfriend get you this hot... No. Of course he doesn't" he chuckles.

Taking him by surprise you manage to end up on top of him. Straddling him and your hands run down his chest, moving slow and watching as his eyes fill with lust.

"So fucking beautiful" his eyes rake hungrily over you body and he dips his head down to your breasts and sucks, kisses and leaves gentle bites over them.

His thrusts grow more erratic as you ride him faster and faster, fierce kisses are exchanged and Eddie's head throws back as he moans. "Fuck that's it princess. I love how fucking amazing you feel"

When you come you almost see stars. Feel Eddie moan as he stills and spills into you, his thrusts slowing as he leaves lazy kisses over your neck.

🖤

It's a little while later and you're sprawled beside Eddie, boneless and just wanting to close the distance between you and be close to him.

But this isn't like that. You'd love to stay and cuddle, love to be with him like you want to.

Eddie gets up and stretches. "Have to head to Gareth's. Will you be okay seeing yourself out princess?" he asks as he gets dressed and you smile even if you don't feel like it.

He leans down and kisses you briefly then he heads out. There's a hollow feeling in your chest and you cuddle back into the pillow for a second, get lose in the scent of Eddie's cologne just for a little bit.

You get up and dress quickly, then leave but there an ache inside you that so badly wants this to be more. Does he even want that? He's made it clear that this was just sex to him.

It's obvious that it means so much more to you and you sigh sadly, you were falling in love with someone who had no intention of wanting anything more with you...

With that thought you head into your car with a heavy heart.

[maidflowery]

Good Night, Sweet Dream

Jiaoqiu x Reader

You have a bad dream and Jiaoqiu is there for you. But at what cost?

Prequel: Pinky Promise

You had a dream.

Or more precisely, a nightmare.

In that dream, you saw your Foxian boyfriend being led away in chains, about to be taken somewhere you didn't know.

"...!"

You tried to scream his name, but no voice would come out.

The coral pink-haired, fox-eared man continued to walk, looking straight ahead.

The fear of losing him came crashing down on you.

You tried to rush after him, your mouth wide agape, letting out soundless screams.

But for some reason, the more you ran, the farther he became. A vast distance spread between the two of you like the ocean, threatening to separate you forever.

Before long, you could feel something hot trickling down your cheeks.

Huh?

But then, the scenery changed completely.

All of the sudden, you found yourself in a lush meadow. Something pink and fluffy were running around. Foxes. Extremely cute foxes.

Like a child, your sorrow went forgotten as you went to chase one of the pink foxes.

Where is it going? Also, what is this delicious smell...?

Lucky you, the fox led you to an opening, where something unexpected appeared.

A giant meat bun!

That was right. A huge, white meat bun towered in front of you. Its silky smooth and fluffy surface had a vibrant pink hue to it.

You sniffed the air. Yes, this was where the yummy smell came from! There was no mistaking it!

It was a pork curry meat bun! The same dish your dear Foxian boyfriend had served you for dinner tonight!

You began salivating, your stomach growling in tandem.

Time to dig in!

You jumped at the meat bun, nibbling and chewing on its surface. However...

"Damn! Why is it so tough!?"

Despite looking so soft, the meat bun turned out to be chewy. Or maybe you should search for a softer spot, as illogical as it sounded. Well, it was a dream, anyway.

Thus, you moved your mouth somewhere else, only to be met with retaliation. Yes, the pink meat bun started jiggling and bouncing, pushing you away.

"What!? Wait!! My pork curry meat bun!!"

Having gone feral, you leaped at the retreating meat bun and chomped on it!

However, instead of a rich, spicy curry, something foreign entered your mouth... Something like, fur...?

"Huh!? Blergh! Cough, cough! Gross!"

Your eyes darted open. The familiar ceiling of your room greeted your sight.

...What a weird dream.

"How rude."

Before you could ruminate on the meaning behind such a cryptid dream, a silvery voice entered your ears. Unlike his usual gentle tone, his voice sounded sulky.

You tensed up. You had a bad feeling about this. Also, since when did he come home?

Slowly, you turned to look at the owner of the voice.

The moment you saw him, your jaw dropped.

Your Foxian boyfriend sat beside you. Actually, rather than sitting, it seemed as if someone had pushed him down into that position.

His sleeping robe was disheveled, its sash lying in a heap nearby, and his sculpted abs were in full display. His sleeves hung on his elbows, revealing his smooth and lean shoulders.

Moonlight streaming in through the window shone on the red marks that blossomed along his shoulder to his neck. And even his ear.

To put it simply, your boyfriend seemed to have been pounced on. And you had an inkling as to whom the culprit was. Besides, there were only the two of you in that room.

"Ha-haha... Hey there, Jiaoqiu. Since when are you home?"

Pathetic, you know.

Your boyfriend glared at you as if he had been wronged.

"Someone seemed to be having a nightmare, so I came to check on her. Absolutely nothing could prepare me for what was about to come..."

Jiaoqiu lamented like someone recounting a tragedy, each word slicing your heart like a knife.

"...Now that you've had your fill, you're just going to push me away? Humans are so fickle..."

As he stared at you in accusation, your boyfriend, whose beauty even surpassed that of a woman, seemed about to cry.

"J-Jiaoqiu, I didn't mean to... I'm really sorry, did I hurt you?"

You tried to soothe him. When you reached toward him, to your surprise, he leaned in.

Instead of answering you, your boyfriend asked you, golden eyes sparkling in yearning.

"Then, you won't push me away?"

Instead of answering him, you wrapped your arms around his neck, drawing him to you. Jiaoqiu surrendered himself to your embrace. The mattress sank as he slowly fell on top of you. Now that the two of you had settled in nicely, it was time to sleep.

Your Foxian boyfriend tended to get lonely. Although he didn't show it, he loved touching and being touched by you.

As he buried his face on your chest, you stroked his coral pink hair. His ear twitched as you gently caressed it.

"...But, Jiaoqiu."

"Hm?" He responded, his voice muffled.

"Your sash was way too tidy for it to have been removed by force. Stage a better accident next time. Or better yet, just tell me if you want to sleep together."

You could feel your boyfriend's lips curving into a smirk against your belly.

He lazily raised his head. A pair of golden eyes bore into yours, gleaming with schemes and intrigues.

"You caught me."

Sequel:

The Gratitude of a Fox

[sturniololoco]

Shy

Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4

Sturniolo Little Sister (SLS) x The Sturniolo Triplets

SLS x Nathan Doe

Warnings: kissing, language, etc. Pure fluff!

SLS/N's POV

I woke up in Matt's bed, alone, unlike last night when I fell asleep with him watching a movie. I fell asleep in a pair of Chris's boxers and one of Nick's hoodies, looking like a train wreck. I throw my hair in a messy bun and then check the time.

11:15 am. Damn, I slept in.

Yawing, I quickly stood up and made my way to the kitchen. I heard my brother's voices coming from the couch as I walked in.

Only it wasn't just my brothers.

Sitting on the couch were Nick, Matt, Chris, and Nathan, who I completely forgot flew in from Boston this morning. He gave me a small smile as I met his eye.

They all turned and stared at me. I immediately felt my face turn red as I looked down at my feet awkwardly.

"Oh good! Sleepy head his up." Nick said. I gave a fake little laugh as I backed out of the room, mumbling something about getting ready. Once I rounded the corner, I sprinted to my room.

I cannot believe I just walked into a room with Nathan Doe, looking like absolute shit.

-

I changed into some cargo jeans and a crew neck, I also curled my hair and added some light makeup to my face. I was desperately trying to revive my first interaction with Nate.

I walked downstairs again, trying a new technique, rather than boxers and a baggy sweatshirt.

When I got downstairs, everyone was still on the couch, but now they had bagels. I grabbed one and sat next to Chris, who just so happened to be a couch cushion away from Nate.

"Well didn't someone dress up all fancy? Big difference compared to Matty's boxers." Chris said, nudging me in my side. I punched him lightly in the shoulder, giggling as my face turned red again. Nate laughed with us, meeting my eye again.

"So, what should we do today?" Nick asked the group, all of us finishing the last of our bagels.

"Top Golf?" Matt suggested. We all nodded in agreement.

"Sounds good to me!" Nate said cheerfully. He stood up to throw his plate away, but as he passed me, he said,

"Lemme get that for you." As he took my plate for me. I smiled at him for a split second before looking away and mumbling thanks, my cheeks feeling hot.

-

As the smallest, I usually sit in the middle back whenever we have company riding in the car with us. Only this time, I was squished between Nick and Nate, our legs constantly touching.

I felt the butterflies rise in my stomach with every little movement, my heartbeat quickening its pace.

But we soon arrived at top golf, our legs separating as we got out of the car.

-

About halfway through a basket of donut holes later, it was my turn to swing again. I placed my ball on the T and swung, barely missing the little red one. My brothers have always been better at gold than me.

"Oh, that was so close SLS/n! But here, try more like this next time." Nate said, walking towards me.

He wrapped his arms around me, grabbing my hands and helping me swing. He was talking, but I wasn't comprehending. The only thing I could think of was how close we were.

"...Got it, SLS/N?" Nate finished.

"I-Um... yeah, thanks," I said, quickly averting my eyes from his perfect smile. He stayed up at a matt since it was his turn, while I bolted to sit next to Nick. I could feel the heat all over my face.

"Someone blushing again," Nick said, nudging my shoulder. I gave him a Please don't say a word look and he just chuckled and then stood up, going to take his turn. But to my surprise, his seat was filled by Nate moments later.

And the cycle continued.

-

It was late. 1:04 am to be exact.

Everyone came home exhausted from our day of fun, showered, and then hit the hay. Except for me.

I woke up thirsty, so I walked down to the kitchen, turned on the overhead lights, then filled a cup with water.

As I was taking small sips of my water and scrolling through my notifications on my phone, I saw someone's hands being placed on the counter on both sides of me.

I quickly spun around, almost spilling my water and dropping my phone in the process, and came face to face with Nate.

I let out a breathy laugh, saying,

"Holy shit, you scared the fuck outta me!" He laughed lightly, giving me a lazy smile, his arms still on either side of me, trapping me.

Butterflies.

Our noses were only centimeters apart, and Nate was only leaning in closer.

God, I hope I don't have morning breath, I thought as he gently laid his lips against mine. He smelled amazing and tasted even better.

After a couple of seconds, he started to move his lips along mine, deepening the kiss. Just when I was starting to get the hang of it, he pulled away.

My face got hot and turned beet red as I rested my forehead on his chest, hiding my face.

"No, no, none of that. Don't get all shy on me baby." he said, laughing lightly as he used his index finger and thumb to lift my chin. I looked into his eyes, and just as I thought he was about to kiss me again, he backed up, moving his arms.

"You should go back to bed, you need rest." He then reached behind me and grabbed my water glass, taking a sip, and then handed it to me. I took it, staring at him dumbfounded as he walked back to Chris’s room.

Shortly after, I did the same. But as soon as I laid down, my phone buzzed.

It was a text from Nick.

I fucking knew it.

-

Pt. 2????????

Lemme know!

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

Run Free

art by me!

Price, Gaz, and Ghost visits the MacTavish Estate baring the news.

Word Count: 2.1k words Warning: Major character death, angst and comfort. Note : I wrote this fic a few days after I finished the campaign. I've always thought it weird why the 141 boys had Soap's ashes when I've always seen Soap as someone with a family and a had good relationship with them, especially since it's canon that Soap's cousin brought him to the SAS base several times as a kid. Here's my interpretation of that fact, on how Soap's urn ended up with the boys.

Price, Gaz, and Ghost wore their dress uniforms from head to toe, finding themselves in front of the MacTavish Estate in Glasgow. It was… big, to say the least. Soap’s family was known not only because a number of people from the family are serving in the British Royal Armed Forces, but also the fact that they are 7th generation furniture company - MacTavish Furnitures. Lots of members of the family are veterans turned businessmen, carpenters, or woodworkers. It is a common cycle of life for them.

As Ghost and Gaz stood, Price climbed the stairs and wore his beige beret, breathing deeply through his nose before letting the air out to prepare himself, lifting his hand to knock on the wooden door. The captain heard faint noises of multiple footsteps from multiple people and some voices of heavy Scottish accent from inside the house. He waited for a moment, until the door finally opened, but he found no one in front of him. 

“Who are ya?”

A little voice spoke from under him, prompting Price to look down. He found a little girl with blonde hair no taller than his knees. She’s absolutely drenched from head to toe in a blue swimming attire and had to bend her neck so high to see him. He bent down to his knees to match her height, before saying,

“Hello. I’m… My name is John.” 

“John? Like Uncle Johnny?” Her little voice said, face gleaming with happiness at the name.

“Yes. Like Uncle Johnny.” Price smiled, chuckling lightly. The girl grinned at his smiling face. “May I see your dad? Or mum?”

“Phoebe MacTavish! Get your wee feet here before I pick your legs off of that floo–! Oh, Hello there.” A new voice came from in front of him, revealing herself to be an old woman with dark brown hair, though with white strands and the same quizzical brow that reminded Price of Soap. She looked strong, nonetheless, wearing a green shirt and knitted vest with a towel hanging from one of her shoulders, obviously to dry the little girl after a session of swimming in their estate’s pool. 

Price stood back up, greeting the lady. “Mrs. MacTavish.” 

The old woman looked at his attire up and down, and Price swore that he saw the gears rotating inside her mind. She looked down at the girl and gave her the white towel, “Phoebe. Go inside and dry yourself. Find your Da, Aunt Rachel, and Uncle Hugh, too. Tell them to meet me at the front door, yeah?” The little girl nodded and ran inside, disappearing into the house as Price heard a faint yelling from the same child, calling for the stated family members. 

Now, the lady in front of him walked closer to the doorway, face to face with him. She’s undoubtedly no taller than 5’7”, a height that might have been receding as time went by, but you could spot a proud MacTavish wherever you see one. Price offered his hand for a handshake as she accepted. “Captain John Price from the 22 SAS Regiment.” 

“Joan MacTavish.” She replied. Price noticed the name as the name on Soap’s file as his guardian, with the relation being marked with ‘Aunt’. “What brings you here, Captain?” Her face looked neutral like it wasn’t the first time a soldier with a full dress uniform knocked on this wooden door. 

Just before Price could say what he wanted to say, a deep voice called to her. “Mum?” One woman and two men with a frame similar to him showed up from inside the house. One man was around Ghost’s age, one was around his age, while the woman in a bun looked older than him, though looking very vibrant and professional. All of them had the same thick eyebrows – Family traits, he supposed – and clearly looked like honourable but firm Scottish people. Upon seeing Price, though, their faces changed from confusion to realization. 

Price remembered that Soap was not the first MacTavish in the SAS. In fact, there was another member of the family, Oliver MacTavish, who died in the line of duty a decade ago. Price remembered the way Soap had told the story of Ollie, his cousin, bringing his little arse to the SAS base  - however unpermitted it was – and how Price had busted Soap multiple times for applying with a fake age. 

“Rachel MacTavish.” The eldest one spoke.

“Hugh MacTavish.” The elder man said, followed by the younger.

“Scott MacTavish. That was my daughter, Phobe.” They all shook hands with Price. 

He repeated his greeting, before Rachel started,

“I've seen the likes of you before. I recognize that beret even from a mile away." She said firmly. "Out with it."

The captain's breath hitched as he cleared his throat, preparing himself to deliver the news. And so, he began.

"On November 21st, our target had placed an active bomb inside the underwater tunnel that connects the UK and France. During our attempt to defuse the bomb, the target sneaked from behind our line of sight…"

The whole family's face changed, Joan's eyes looked glassy with tears seeming like she knew of the incoming words.

"And I regret to inform you… that Sergeant John MacTavish has died in the line of duty."

Ghost, without his mask and black face paint around his eyes, and Gaz with their dress uniforms and beret could only stand from the base of the stairs, watching and hearing as Joan's cry of anguish tear through the morning sky. 

"Oh Lord. Johnny. Johnny. My baby, Johnny." Joan repeated his name like a chanting to the sky. "Why must You take him so soon? Why must he join Ollie so soon?"

The whole family hugged their mother as she wailed, her knees looked like it was giving up. Gaz gritted his teeth to strengthen himself, not wanting to break down to cry himself. 

As the family cried, Price could only stand still, letting the news sink in for the family. His job as the leader of the team was done, at that point. He delivered the news to his family. 

"The bomb…Did he defuse it?" Hugh questioned in the middle of his sobs. 

"He–" Price swallowed, remembering the way Makarov had killed him. "We were both defusing the bomb, John guiding me along the way as he was the demolition expert."

"He protected me, Sir. Our target was about to shoot me, before John stopped him - and got killed instead. The target ran away, but me and Sergeant Garrick managed to defuse the bomb thanks to his prior guidance, saving thousands of lives underneath the 30-mile underwater tunnel." Price answered as Rachel looked up at his face, anger and denial filling her in an instant. 

She raised her hand in such a way that Price knew that she was about to slap him. Price still opened his eyes, fully welcoming the slap before her hand stopped. 

Rachel bit her lips so hard that it might bleed, lowering her arm.

"...Why does it have to be Johnny? Why do you get to live and he doesn't?" She barely whispered in a shaky voice, going back to wiping her face again. “Why Johnny…?”

And Price asked that question every single hour ever since his death. 

Why Soap, and not him?

—

The MacTavishes requested for Soap's body to be sent to Scotland, where they held a memorial at the MacTavish estate to which they promptly honoured. The number of family members participating was not that many, considering only the immediate family attended. Price, Soap, and Ghost joined them, and even escorted the family as they travelled to the crematorium.

After the whole procession finished – that took the entire day – the family finally had possession of the urn containing Soap's ashes, and they invited the three back to the estate, where they now sit inside the guest room and tea in front of them with Joan and Rachel, his urn placed on a table beside Joan.

That was the day they learned that Soap was actually the son of Joan's late husband's younger sister. Soap's mother – her sister-in-law, died when she birthed Soap, while Soap's father died during an accident in a factory before his own birth. 

Soap had been raised by his uncle's family since his infancy, growing up in the MacTavish house as a strong and firm Scott under the wing of the eldest brother, Oliver. 

"He's always wanted to be like Ollie, that wee kid," Rachel told them after holding a photo album containing photos of Soap when he was a baby in his late uncle's arms, a photo of him and his older cousins playing with mud, photos of his graduations from school, and photos of him passing the test to be a part of SAS along with his cousin, Oliver. "Said he didn't want to go to school. Just visit the army base every day. It's what he dreamed of."

Ghost, still in his dress uniform, felt the most vulnerable in that room - Without his mask, in front of Johnny's family. He also had been in agony for the past day, because he'd failed to cover Johnny's back. He had one job at that time, and he failed, catastrophically. He only sat there with his hands joined in his lap, not daring to look at the family in the eyes. 

"We're very thankful for John's service with us. He was the best there is." Gaz spoke, "John's memory will live with us."

"Thank you, Sergeant Garrick." Joan smiled as she looked up. "I heard you share the same quarters with him in the barracks. I hope he wasn't too much of a naughty boy."

The sergeant chuckled lightly at that, "Well. Soap wasn't someone who could stay away from mischief too long, but I assure you that he's an absolute joy and inspiration to be around." Hearing Joan's laughter cured a little part in Gaz, as the only thing he'd heard from her was the sound of her cry. He could at least pride himself in knowing that he could share Soap's merry nature.

As they share memories, Price finished his tea before he stood up from the sofa, followed by the other two. "Well. We must take our leave, Ma'am. Thank you for the tea."

"Anytime." Joan spoke as the soldiers started to leave the sofa, heading towards the main room and front door. 

"Which one of ya’s is ‘LT’?"

Rachel’s voice stopped the men in their tracks, particularly Ghost’s. All three men turned around, finding the woman holding Soap’s urn in her hands. Price saw how Ghost's face turned to that of a deer in a spotlight, so he put his hand behind Ghost’s back to lightly push him towards Rachel, but Ghost’s hesitancy was apparent in the way he slowly walked. 

“...That would be me, Ma’am.” Ghost’s deep voice rumbled softly as he looked down to Rachel’s height. The lady herself observed him up and down with a negative face that she could convince him that he was standing there naked. 

“Yer tryin’ so hard to make yourself look small for such a big man. It’s almost dreading.” She started, her hips shifting. “I’ve been the CEO of MacTavish Furnitures since my da’ passed away and Ollie decided to go to the army, and I read people like a book. For someone whom Johnny admired the most – and repeatedly spoke about – you don’t look like the LT I heard from him.” Ghost was starstruck at the statement. Soap, talking about him to his family? “I expected you to be cocky and exude pride in your steps, but all I’m seein’ is just a pathetic, sad bloke.” 

Ghost stood still at those comments. No one practically had ever roasted him this badly in front of his teammates. He wondered if he showed up in his other attire, she’d dare to say all this. But then again, if someone got to do it, he was glad that it came from an honourable woman of the MacTavish bloodline. 

What caught him off guard was her hands stretching towards him, holding Soap’s urn in front of his chest. Ghost looked down at the metal container, looking confused as he looked up again to face Rachel. He thought the MacTavishes were going to hold on to Soap’s urn, and they get to keep Soap’s dog tags. However, clearly, the current head of the family had other wishes.

“Take Johnny with ya. Being trapped inside this urn for eternity in this old house would be the last thing he wanted.” The woman started with a shaky voice, her eyes starting to brim with tears again. Seeing Soap’s character, Ghost could understand that completely. 

“He’s… the proudest he could ever be when he’s with ya’s." Rachel continued. 

"So I ask you, as our brother’s comrades, to hold on to Johnny – and free him.” 

Ghost’s eyes opened wide in surprise, still couldn’t fathom how fondly Soap must've talked about his teammates, especially him, to his family that they’d give him his ashes. Ghost lifted his hands to carefully receive the urn. 

After breathing deeply, Ghost stood straight, holding Soap firmly. 

“We will, Ma’am.”

—

The three of them walked towards the car parked just outside the MacTavish estate with Ghost holding Soap’s urn in his hands. They all took off their berets and entered the car, Price the designated driver, Gaz riding shotgun, while Ghost sat in the backseat. 

“So what do we do with him, Sir?” Gaz rotated his body to look at Soap’s urn on Ghost’s hands, same as Price.

Ghost contemplated in his mind, staring at the metal urn, before speaking, “Where’s Johnny’s place of birth?” 

Price answered immediately as he’s the one who took care of Soap’s documents. “Isle of Skye.” 

“Soap said there’s a beautiful cliff where he and his cousins used to go to play. Endless sea where the eyes could see.” Gaz added.

“Then that’s where we’re goin’.” Ghost spoke with finality. “And then we’ll let Johnny go.”

Price and Gaz nodded to each other. "Alright, Soap. Let's get you home." The captain started the car and stepped on the gas, beginning their journey towards the Isle of Skye.

---

I'm not okay. Thank you for reading! (T_T) reblogs and comments of your thoughts are much appreciated!

[little-forest-goblin]

The Art of Valentine

❤️ Valentines day special ❤️

Synopsis: Five had you as a coworker at the CIA. You guys could be described as work wife and work husband by other coworkers and also because everybody can feel the unspoken desire, wanting, love and care. Eventually this all boils over.

Note: this story is in season 4 but there is no forbidden relationship (AKA five and lila) and the universe did not reset. The cleanse was just a cult of crazies.

———————————————————————

———————————————————————

Five had a crush that he completely thought qas hopeless. HOPELESS. He kept telling himself to stop dreaming of her when you know that it wont happen! Sadly his ass was not cooperating with his logical albeit twisted logic. Either way he liked you.

You and he were described as a work wife and husband to everyone. If I went up to them and asked about the two of you it would be that exact description. Some coworkers found it annoying while others found it kind of adorable and were betting on the two of you ending up together

God five was hoping the same thing and little did he know you did too.

It was a normal office day. Five going through files on the newest case. After finding out that the director was a part of the cleanse cult they obviously replaced him and just so happened to replace him with five.

They found that five were more than qualified for the job of CIA director. He did appreciate it because he got quite a hit of money and it was quite an achievement.

You came into the office with a new file for the case they were working on. “Well hello handsome. I have the file you asked for”

he looked up and sipped his coffee and smiled setting it down “You keep talking like that and you might get yourself in trouble”

you chuckled and walked over to the desk setting the file down “Maybe i want to be in trouble”

he smirked and leaned forward towards you. Your breaths mingled and his body even though you didn't touch yet was warm. “Don't make me spank you, honey.”

you blushed and moved back “w-well than i guess i should behave” you turned and moved to walk out.

he swallowed and his eyes trailed down your body. His heart was pounding. Once you left he was in a panic. He let out a strangled breath his hands on his desk and his heart pounding he was sure he was dying

“I'm dead this is it. Her beauty has killed me. Her wit has killed me. A MURDER!!!”

Meanwhile, outside the office a few coworkers heard him yell after you left. One of the coworkers that had a mug of coffee was talking to one leaning against the wall “You think he has a photo of her in his wallet she doesn't know about?”

the coworker leaning against the wall nodded “Probably”

Meanwhile five was having a heart attack induced by you. Good god save him now. He took a shaky sip of coffee.

“God save me now”

Soon after he needed more coffee and sadly he didn't have a coffee machine in his office which meant he had to go outside and possibly interact.

He left his office making his way to the break room as quickly as possible without distractions or unnecessary conversation. He got into the breakroom and sighed where there were only a few girls talking in the corner on their breaktime.

He headed to the machine and was pouring himself a cup and maybe he was eavesdropping…a little.

“Oh my god i didn't even catch that it was february! I am not looking forward to this.” one of the girls said with a annoyed sigh as she sipped whatever was in her mug

Another girl who had her hair done up in a messy bun and looked far too tired to be working nodded “I agree. What's the point of valentines if you dont got one” the other girl agreed

Another girl who was enjoying a complimentary bag of chips that were usually in a little wicker basket on the counter looked at them like they were crazy “What? you guys don't like valentines? That's crazy.”

the same girl who started the conversation about february playfully rolled her eyes “Well cassie not everyone has a girlfriend like you to share the month with”

the girl who was supposedly named cassie blushed “Hey! don't go yelling that! What if the wrong person hears I keep my life private you know!”

They chuckled and headed out of the break room once it was up. Five was left there with a pit in his stomach. Its february which means valentines day.

He rushed to the office and checked his calendar. Oh fuck…

He hated Valentine's Day but it still made him so nervous. He hated it because he would get a valentine from people he didn't want and never from the person he did but his hopes were always up that maybe he would get one. His heart would hurt every single year you’d think he would forget.

he didn't care much for valentines after the first apocalypse but once he got back and experienced holidays like valentines all over again he was smitten with a lot except for valentines day.

his family tried to encourage him to meet people and actually find love or a valentine. He sat in his office chair thinking. Maybe he should try this year.

And so he set a plan. Multiple plans actually. Plan A’s and B’s just in case one didn't work.

~Timeskip~

None of them worked. He failed. He got cold feet. He knew he shouldn't have. He used to be an assassin but you brought out that side of him. You made him nervous. All the flirting and your genuine care and the fact that you would listen to him and engage in deep thought it was…nerve wracking.

He thought all hope was lost. He would be destined to be alone because he can't crawl out of the shell that he perfectly built and well…perfected.

He walked down the hall just needing a minute away from his work and stuffy office and from the file. He must’ve not been paying attention because he bumped into somebody that he learned was you.

“Oh shit!” you yelled as you fell right onto your ass

he turned around, his eyes widening. He was mentally cursing himself and his entire biological bloodline. “Oh god, y/n I'm so sorry. I was not paying attention.”

you stood dusting yourself off “No no it's alright it seems you're out of it.”

he chuckled nervously pink dusting his cheeks. If he wasn't so nervous maybe he would notice your own pinkened cheeks. His mouth began running faster than he could think and before he could think of the possible consequences he blurted out:

“Would you be willing to go on a date with me?!” his eyes widened along with yours.

He just asked you out right? That wasn't you just dreaming right? before you could talk he blinked away. he was gone within a flash. You were left speechless. You looked down each end of the hall hoping to see if you could catch him but sadly he couldn't.

you sighed and leaned back against the wall. Your head hit the back of the wall and you sighed. Once you were ready after a quick debrief in your head you saw a wallet on the floor left where he was. Your eyebrows furrowed ans picked it up. Surely it wasnt fives right?

You opened it and saw his Id and license in the pouch. You were gonna close it till a paper fell out. You quickly picked it up. Now you knew you shouldn't snoop through his things but you couldn’t help it. You flipped it over and saw it was a photo of you.

your eyes widened a blush forming. You…he had a photo of you. You thought he wouldn't like you like that. A really long time of pining over him and he…he liked you back. He sounded so nervous.

You opened your phone and saw the date. February 13th. Perfect.

>Next day<

five got to his office feeling miserable. No valentines for him once again and he blew it. He opened his office and set down his briefcase on a side table by the door. He flipped on the lights.

What he saw made his eyes widen. On the desk was a bouquet of flowers. A beautiful bunch of roses with dark green ferns in it. It was gorgeous.

Inside he saw a card. He picked it up and opened the card. Inside read

“To Five hargreeves.

You left your wallet in the hallway when you blinked away. I returned it to you. It is in your front desk drawer. Also about that date, id love to go. How does at 8 tonight sound? See you then lover boy.

Love, y/n l/n”

His eyes widened and his heart pounded. The card was from you. He held the flowers close until he sat down and set it down on the desk. He opened the front drawer and there his wallet was.

He picked it up and opened it. He saw a new piece of paper that he had never seen before. On it had writing it read

“I saw the photo of me in your wallet. I decided to give you a better one. A personal favorite of mine”

he flipped it over and saw it was a photo, obviously. A more precious one. One of you and him laughing at a table together over an inside joke you two made.

As he sat back in his desk looking at the photo of you two laughing at the joke and your legs under the table were slightly intertwined, you and him were close and intimate but far enough that distance didn't seem so little anymore.

That's what made it all the more special.

———————————————————————

Hi guys! I know some of you might be looking for a valentines smut story but i decided not to do that but i can create another if you want just give me some time! I love you guys please be safe out there ❤️

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead’s Sister-in-Law!

1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10 12 13 14 15 16

Chapter 11

‘Slight’ Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader.

Arranged marriage AU

Warnings: Obsessive and possessive themes, overall slight yandere themes, mentions of self-harm (referencing of biting thumb), mentions of injury (the thumb + bruised knees), mention of vomit, very slight sadistic themes, implied guilt and maybe implied depression (???), implied coercion, mention of drugs (sleeping pills), almost near panic attack (probably?), toxic relationship/marriage, Reader is barely having a good time but it gets ruined. Please tell me if I missed any.

NSFW Warnings: VERY SLIGHT suggestive themes.

NOTE: The reader has enough hair to put into a bun.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND/OR DANGEROUS ACTIONS AND/OR BEHAVIORS THAT MAY TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED NOR ROMANTICIZED AS THEY ARE BOTH EXTREMELY TOXIC AND DANGEROUS.

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS/BLOGS THAT DO NOT INTERACT WITH OR REBLOG ANYTHING FANDOM RELATED (FICS, ART, ETC.) DNI.

= = =

The first thing you were told about your fiance was that he was from an extremely well-off family. Deep down you knew your father told you that to give you a reason to look ‘forward’ towards the marriage. He didn’t tell you anything about the man himself and you never asked - after all, he was your father, right? He would only choose the best for you, right? No way he would allow the lowest of the low to even lick the bottom of your shoe.

The ‘fact,’ however, did not stop questions from forming. Never bringing them up, wanting to believe in and trust your father, you covered your own eyes and shushed your own voice. You followed while completely in the dark.

The second thing you were told about the mysterious man was that he was ‘extremely handsome.’ 

Your mother had brought him up one evening while taking a walk in the garden. Walking cane in hand, her faint wrinkles started to fade into the shadows as the sun went down. “I only met him once, but he’s an extremely handsome young man.” She smiles when you look at her.

“Oh? What brought this up, mother?” You ask as you both come to a stop. Leaning into her touch as she pushes a few stray hairs back, you notice how dull her (e/c) eyes become. The smile she gives is almost heartbreaking.

Penitent.

“Well, it’s just that… you never asked one thing about him. You accepted the engagement rather quickly, and while that can be a good thing… even good girls should question things and people sometimes.” 

“Oh,” you say, blinking as you become wordless. After a pause you resume, “but father was the one who picked him, right? Who agreed to it with my soon to be father-in-law; how could I not trust him?” Despite your own words, a pang of anxiety strikes your heart. 

Your parents have been acting weird ever since the news was broken to you. 

Your mother never talks like this. She expected you to behave the majority of the time - of course, she also expected you to make mistakes, like any human would. Soft scoldings if they were small and harsh ones if they went too far. She also taught you to have full trust in your father whenever it came to picking out a potential marriage partner. 

The corner of her lips turn downward before quickly settling back into a fine, tight line. “Right,” she strokes your hair, eyes still dull, “you think that.” Her words confuse you but she gestures to continue the walk. You do so, the atmosphere becoming heavy. 

 You fight yourself to keep your eyes covered, resisting the urge to pull up the wool covering them. Believe in your parents, as you were taught. Ah, but what should you do when your own parents indirectly tell you to question them?

You don’t know what to say, heart beating faster. Teeth begging to chomp down on your thumb, a habit that was forgotten but threatens to return since your father told you about the engagement. The need for control was shoved down, accepting - or at least attempting to - your father’s decision. 

The rest of the walk was quiet, both daughter and mother unsure of what to say next.

- - -

“My Lady, it’s time to get ready.” Hana informs you of the dreaded event; dinner with your father-in-law, Lant Agriche. 

Your chest painfully contorts, mouth becoming dry as two other maids enter the room. They bow deeply and you don’t miss the grave look on their face. Perhaps they were scared of offending Dion’s Agriche’s wife, still unsure of what her standing is within the family. 

Still gauging the situation, seeing how it’s been only two weeks. Still observing how the second oldest treats you, wondering if he secretly holds you dear or if you mean less than dirt to him.

Well, that’s probably part of it - the amount of presents Maria has sent you was mind boggling. How often she invites you to… anywhere, really, made it look like you could rival Sierra in being your mother-in-law’s favorite person. It was clear that the mad woman had already made room for you in her ‘heart,’ thus becoming your guard dog.

However, the fact you were her son’s wife had some still in doubt. Some thought she was merely acting out a fantasy of having a daughter until she becomes bored of you, and secretly, you agree. Others think that they’re just rumors, not bothering themselves with you nor her. 

 In other words, you were still very much fresh meat. 

“Oh, right.” The two new maids look at each other with a knowing look, most likely pitting you. They refuse to help you, however, knowing the price they would pay if you even gave you the idea of running away. Instead, they get your makeup ready, multiple eye shadow shades and colors laid out on your brand new vanity that was gifted to you days ago. Lipstick was also brought out and organized by color.

Hana starts to help you undress. Temporary physical relief washes over you once the tight dress and corset are taken off. She asks you to step out of the ring they formed once the articles of clothing crumbled to the floor. You hesitate before stepping over it, already dreading wearing that beautiful dress stored in the closet that had the Black Agriche’s family crest.

Just by being there makes it tainted.

“Please bear with the discomfort until you return here, my Lady.” Hana brings out a new corset and you eye it wearily. Reluctantly you grab onto the bedpost, mentally preparing yourself for how tight the clothes will hug your body. Your personal maid almost looks guilty.

“Gah!” Gasping for breath as the brown haired woman tightens the strings, the other two maids only watch on with pity. Pity for the corset? Or for the dinner you’ll have with Lant? Or both?

It doesn’t cross your mind that perhaps they are also including Dion in that list.

“Just bear with it until after dinner. Master Lant is leaving immediately afterwards.” Hana’s attempts to comfort you are sweet, but they barely help. As in the end, while one threat will temporarily leave, the other one will share this room with you again. 

Life sucks. God hates you.

“Y-yes, of course… he’ll leave,” hoping the other two won’t rat you both you out, you shut your eyes until she’s done with the torture device. You take in a deep breath before releasing it, begging your heart to calm down and mind to settle. Your nails dig into the bedpost, your wrapped  right thumb hurting.

You can’t stop thinking about Lant’s temperament. His snarkiness and disgusting face. Nails on a chalkboard voice that’s worse than his son’s. The sinister look in his eyes that never seems to leave. That smug smirk he nearly always wears.

You can’t stop thinking about how your faith and livelihood are in his hands. How he’s the true holder of your leash, handing the ‘responsibility’ over to his son for whatever reason.

Your bruised knees start to buck and no-one comments on it despite the way their eyes are glued to it. Hana instructs one of the maids to get that scarlet dress from the closet, a quiet agreement on not to comment on your near broken state. Be it out of kindness or obligation, you’re grateful regardless of.

“Here’s the dress,” the blond presents it to Hana as your eyes zone into the bed - you could be sleeping right now. Reading a book. Instead you’re listening in as the three maids discuss what accessories to pair with the lovely scarlet garment. It only makes you want to rip it into tiny pieces. 

“Oh, we should probably put her ladyship in the dress before deciding on anything,” the black haired maid points out and the other two nod in agreement. The blond helps Hana with dressing you. Hana quickly fastens the button of the neck piece from behind your neck. 

It’s choking you. 

And so is the form-fitting dress. 

Goosebumps form on your exposed shoulders, and you just now noticed that a good portion of your back is also exposed. The cold air nips at the (s/c) skin, making you shake harder. Taking in a shaky breath, you don’t fight back when they smooth out the dress, making sure it fits you perfectly. 

You feel more like a lifeless mannequin than a breathing, living human.

“Please sit down, my Lady,” Hana guides you to the vanity seat, and the mirror reflects a fearful lamb. You see the dark circles under your eyes from the lack of sleep, the experience of being integrated by your husband drilled into your bones and fresh on your mind. You hate how they’re almost dark enough to match his. 

“...Hana,” you say, wincing as her knuckles brush against the exposed skin of your back as she gathers your hair. You don’t want to be touched, heart beating against your chest as you get closer and closer to being finished. “C-could you bring me some sleeping pills after dinner?” 

“Yes, my Lady,” she responds immediately, like she was anticipating your question before it was even asked. “I’ll fetch it as soon as I escort you back here.” Her smooth voice and promise makes your shoulders relax. 

- - -

Elena had invited you to an outing, her pregnant belly starting to show. You had accepted, of course, wanting to spend some time with the sister who moved out years ago and visits were sparse. 

Plus, it was easier to ask her about married life, too awkward to ask your mother. 

“Thank you for inviting me, sister.” Your smile is warm as your sister sits across from you at the bakery table. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other.” 

She smiles back. “It has, hasn’t it? I’m sorry for not showing up more often - I’ve been busy with planning for the baby,” she strokes her baby bump, “and preparing for a dinner we’re going to host. Obviously I’m also going to invite you, mother and father, and Zac.” 

It was nice to see someone who wasn’t constantly on edge. To not have their anxiety transfer over to you, keeping your mouth shut as they close themselves off.

“But that’s enough about me - tell me, any news within the family?” She thanks the waitress as she comes with your orders and you do the same. “Father barely tells me anything as is.”

You blink in surprise - wouldn’t Elena be one of the firsts to be told about the news? You shrug it off a moment later, guessing he wanted to keep it a surprise. Still, you didn’t want to hide it from her. You had no reason to. 

“I just got engaged two weeks ago. I’m surprised father hasn’t told you yet.” 

She almost drops her tea cup as she processes the information. Confused and worried you ask if she’s alright only to be met with silence. She bites her lip before forcing out a chuckle. 

“Is that so? Con… congratulations, (Name). Have you met him yet?” She looks worried, drumming her fingers on the table. Everything about her is tense. 

Anxiety starts to swell inside you, concerned about her reaction - just who exactly was your fiance? First, your father was hesitant to tell you, then your mother bitterly accepted - no, acknowledged your own reaction and acceptance of it all.

The only person who has yet to talk about it was Zac.

“...no, not yet. There hasn’t been any news of his portrait arriving, either.” 

Her expression wavers while your’s becomes concerned. You both hold back your true feelings. 

“I see. Well, maybe you’ve seen him once - at a gathering or ball. Just didn’t realize it was him.” Elena quickly says, and it only makes you question the entire thing more. Her fingers keep drumming against the table. “Ah, but, as his wife…” she trails off, looking to the side.

She reluctantly finishes with, “make sure to behave. And accept what he does in bed - eventually, you’ll enjoy it.” 

Your heart drops and you have to stop yourself from jumping up from your chair. So far, your family is making your future husband sound like a monster.

“...thank you for the advice,” you say without genuine gratitude. 

- - -

“No, we should put her hair up.”

“But if we leave it up, the sight of her back won’t be teased whenever the young master walks behind her.”

“If he walks behind her, you mean.”

“Well, they’ll be returning fairly early once the dinner is ready… it’s only natural to expect something to happen. Maybe he’ll think it’s sexier to have it down.”

“Oh you-! If we leave her hair up, the smaller hairs at the base of her head won’t stay in place, thus making it prettier, and if part of her neck and back is clearly exposed, he might think about taking a bite - any man would. She’s so pretty. Plus, he might prefer undoing her hair himself, enjoying how it flows down.” 

The blond maid hums in thought as the black haired one shares her opinion. 

It took them fifteen minutes to settle down and gossip like school girls. Quicker than expected, and you’re hopeful that Hana will keep quiet about it to the masters.

Their debate only serves to make heat crawl up your neck and cheeks to feel hot. They didn’t even bother to whisper… no, rather, they were lost in their own world, failing to notice Hana’s glare at their unprofessionalism. But it all felt so natural.

You hope they’ll be wrong in their assumptions - you don’t want to be touched by that man again. You hate the way he looks at you. The way he touches you. Just being in the same room as him installs fear and small amounts of disgust in you.

Dion is nothing more than a perverted creep.

“Okay,” the blond claps her hands, “we’ll put it up. Hopefully that’ll satisfy him.” You cringe at her words. You hope he’ll keep his hands to himself. 

You hope he’ll leave and won’t return at all tonight. 

You keep your true thoughts and feelings at bay, cautious about the employee’s reactions. No matter how natural this setting felt, you were still in enemy territory. Still, the longer this goes on the more your worries fade into the background.

Hana sighs, clearly done and used to their actions and behavior. Just how closely does she work with them?

“You two, hurry up and help me ready her Ladyship - you’re being paid to work, not to yap.” Hana’s uncharacteristic annoyance draws a giggle from you - while embarrassing and unwarranted, the entire exchange felt normal. 

“O-oh, right, of course, please forgive us my Lady,” closing her brown eyes, the blond maid bows, face beet red. The black haired one follows suit, and despite the topic being unwanted, you can’t force yourself to be upset. They were just normal girls - they reminded you of you and your friends. 

“Oh, right. What are your names?” Finally asking the million dollar question, both women snap out of their daze. 

“O-oh, right.” The blond introduces herself first. “My name is Anne, my Lady.”

“And I am Charis.” The black haired says next.

You nod your head. “What pretty names - it’s a pleasure to be working with you.” Hana has started to work on your hair once the style was decided on. It’s slightly tight but it doesn’t pull on your scalp. 

Anne and Charis stare in surprise before bowing once more, flustered, the tip of their ears pink. You see everything from their reflection in the mirror, ignoring yours. You don’t want to see yourself. You might break if you do.

- - -

Zac was the last to bring up the engagement. However, unlike Elena, he was fully aware of it. Maybe your father or mother told him before you. If so, it stings a bit.

Shouldn’t you be the first to know? To know the full details? Since it was your marriage, and all.

“Let me guess, father said he’s rich and mother told you he was handsome.” He scoffs as he sits on your bed, playing with the bug he captured from outside. Despite your discomfort with the big beetle, you leave it be - as long as he doesn’t shove it in your face you’ll let it slide. 

“Yes. But how do you know that?” You question him while brushing your hair, getting ready for bed, nightgown and robe already on. Your younger brother has yet to change into his own nightwear, still wearing the button up shirt and knee length shorts he was recently given. 

“Because it’s them.” He answers causally. There’s a hint of annoyance in his tone, but he doesn’t show it fully. “They’ll say anything to make you accept it. Not that I completely blame them, but it’s still stupid and sad how easily they gave in.”

There it goes again - your own family making your husband and in-laws sound like monsters. You frown. “I’m sure he’s a decent guy - father wouldn’t pair me up with anyone less.” Despite your faux confidence you can’t help but to feel uneasiness rot you from the inside out. 

“Do you believe that yourself, (Name)?” He looks at you through the mirror, the beetle crawling up his arm. The eleven year old boy stares at you like a grown man. 

“...of course I do. Our parents would never knowingly and willingly put me in danger.” Your fingers start to tremble as you put the brush down. It’s getting harder to keep your eyes covered and your lips shut.

When you look down he starts again.

“We both know that’s a lie. You can’t keep lying to yourself forever.”

You hate how he says nothing but the truth.

Even so, you’ll live in denial until the day you meet your fiance. If you pray enough to God, your husband will be decent.

You fail to consider that maybe, God held no love nor mercy for you.

- - -

“No, don’t choose butterfly theme accessories - that’s Lady Roxana’s signature look. She will be looked down upon, with everyone thinking she’s copying her.” Anne scolds Charis when she suggests black butterfly earrings. Hana nods her head as she does your makeup. This time around, the fondation hides your dark circles. 

“What about dew drops, then? It’s simple but elegant.” Charise presents a pair of gold rimmed ruby earrings in the style she mentioned. Anne thinks for a moment before agreeing. 

“Should we add a necklace?” Anne looks through the options displayed on the vanity’s surface. So many options, so little time.

“Of course! A small one, though. Hm. It should be gold to bring out the color more. How about adding a flower hair clip?” Charise picks up a black and red clip and holds it up, inspecting the expensive looking item.

Their investment in your outfit distracts you from the urge to throw up the closer they get to finishing. For a moment, you forget why they’re dressing you up in the first place. You felt at home in their care. Including Hana, of course.

“Make sure it’s not too similar to one of Lady Roxana’s.” 

“Obviously.” 

Once everything is said and done with, you don’t look like yourself. You don’t look ugly, but as all three maids admire their handiwork, the urge to puke worsens. You don’t look like yourself, this outfit doesn’t suit you, and you’re reminded of the reason for this when one of them says Dion’s name. You feel gross.

“Oh, her thumb… we can’t let her show up with it wrapped.” Anne brings it up as Hana goes to your dresser to pick out a pair of satin black gloves - they reach a bit above your elbows. After she slips them on, the look is complete.

They all call you beautiful, a sight for sore eyes - you feel out of place. Even so, you thank them, reality crashing down any of the remaining enjoyment and peace for this moment. You’re about to enter the battlefield that is the dining room -  with your opponents being Lant and Dion Agriche. 

Hana escorts you out while the other two tidy up the room. They wished you luck before your departure. It feels like you’re being sent to war. 

- - -

The day to finally meet your fiance has come. 

Dressed in a dark navy blue dress, a black mesh covering part of your neck and cleavage, hair curled and tied in a half-do, anticipation won’t escape your chest and head. Your hands are clammy as your father helps you out of the carriage - both families agreed to meet at the venue where the engagement party will be held. An odd choice to meet and while you question it, you don’t voice it. Your father looks wary enough as is.

But so do you. The wool over your eyes is finally slipping off.

“Okay, (Name), remember to behave yourself.” Your father reminds you as your mother frets over your appearance, smoothing out your dress and hair. He doesn’t let go of your hand despite both of your feet on steady ground. He tightly squeezes it instead. 

“Of course, father.” Nervousness is written all over your face but no-one comments on it. Instead of excitement you’re scared. Instead of a relaxed smile it’s wavering with each step towards the venue. Your knees threaten to buck as your heels dig into your feet.

Your mother speaks up before opening the doors. “Remember dear to listen to him - it’s your duty as his wife. It will make everything easier.” This should be the part where she encourages you to be yourself. To say that hey, maybe a love will eventually blossom between the two of you.

It’s clear that she can’t force the words out. 

Everything is setting you on edge. Your legs feel weak and the heels aren’t helping. Your heart is threatening to explode as a servant opens the doors of the venue. Every bone in your body is screaming at you to run away and start a new life. 

Footsteps echoing in the hallway, you make a right turn before reaching the room. Time stops and your heart drops as you catch sight of familiar inky black hair and glowing scarlet eyes, the man dressed in a black uniform with red rimmed shoulder pads that proudly has the Agriche family crest engraved into them along with the back of the shirt that splits at the hips, tied together with a brown belt. Blanks pants that disappear into nearly knee-high brown boots with long, tied laces that make his long legs look even longer. 

You’ve only seen him a handful of times - in the distance of balls and gatherings, the man keeping to himself while you stayed far away from him and his siblings and father. Only ever meeting eyes once, tearing your gaze away immediately to focus on your friend.

He looks at you with disinterest while you stare in horror. 

Then, an older man who looks exactly like him turns around to face you and your parents. A sinister grin on his disgusting face makes your skin crawl as he greets you. Your ears bleed at the sound of his smug voice.

“I see that you’ve arrived,” he says with a cocky smirk as your father besides you winces. Your mother holds her breath as both men walk towards you, fully aware that all three of you are stuck in place. His red eyes are filled with glee at the fact.

Then, he introduces himself. 

“I believe this is the first time we have formally met. I’m your future father-in-law, Lant Agriche. And my son here is your future husband - Dion Agriche.” 

A black gloved hand reaches out to shake yours and you can’t breathe during the exchange as your fiance takes your shaky hand. Boredom is plastered on that handsome face of his, and he’s not even looking directly at you - no, he’s looking at the hallway, like he was expecting something. Someone. 

You pray to God with a heavy heart that this engagement will be broken. As later learned, he did not listen to your desperate prayers. 

A forced and painful strained smile, you introduce yourself, voice threatening to disappear.

“Hello, I’m (Name) (Last Name). It’s a pleasure to meet you, father-in-law and…” 

His name won’t leave past your lips. You don’t want to utter it and -

“Dion,” he finishes for you, eyes flickering to your face before they land on something behind you once more. His voice is low and deep, a hint of tiredness in it. Had it been anyone else, maybe you would have found it attractive, sexy even. 

“Ah, yes. Dion. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” His name tastes bitter on your tongue as you lie.

“Likewise.” 

He sounds bored and clearly not interested in you nor this meeting. 

However, the eyes of his father burn you as the older man pats his son’s shoulder. “He won’t bite.” Yet, he leaves out, but the simper airs it out in the open. Lant then proceeds to shake your hand as well, relishing in how your expression becomes grave. 

Still, you smiled at him, forced or otherwise. You’ll listen to your parents - you have to. When he lets go you resist the urge to wipe off the grime his touch left on you. You want to cut this hand off. 

“Why don’t we leave them alone for a bit? They should familiarize themselves with each other before the wedding.” His ‘advice’ drips with sinister intentions as he shoo you and Dion away to a corner with a victorian style loveseat. 

It dips under your combined weight. Your gaze is glued to your lap, fingers laced together as you rest them on the fabric of your dress. Words don’t form inside your head much less on your tongue. Sweat builds on your temples and the back of your neck. 

Your thumb is starting to look biteable. Fingers twitch as your fiance shifts in his spot, your brain yelling at you to run. You almost do, legs straightening only for you to force them back down. You feel like you’re about to have a heart attack, your hands are clammy and it’s hard to breathe, biting the inside of your cheek just so you won’t scream or cry. 

The silence is deafening. 

Your parents are too far to hear what they’re saying. But every now and then you can feel eyes on you and curiosity and wariness overtake you as you lift your eyes, only to meet your father’s. He quickly looks away after a nod of his head and an apologetic smile - guilt was clear but responsibility wasn’t taken. 

Whenever you feel like someone’s looking at you, you just assume it’s your father checking in on you. It was the only reasonable explanation. So, you kept your head down.

However, had you looked up from your lap, you would have seen scarlet eyes boring into your form, taking everything about you in - from your anxious look to the color of your dress, how your chest raised with every baited breath, your nose cutely twitching as you kept tears at bay. 

Tapping your foot against the tile, hoping time would fly by fast, you can’t bring yourself to look up at the handsome man next to you. You’re vaguely aware of his head staying in place, looking ahead and not sparing you a glance. 

It makes you feel relieved a bit, but you’re unable to see how he looks at you just by moving his eyes. And to think, the entire time you had thought it was your father. 

You don’t see how his fingers twitch as you shift to get more comfortable, leg accidentally bumping into his before you cower into the side of the armrest, further away from him. You apologize with a hushed whimper. 

“S-sorry…” 

Dion doesn’t say anything. 

And you fail to notice how close he was to grabbing you, bringing you closer until your scent threatens to drown him. Of course, he doesn’t act on these urges, knowing that the better choice of action was to leave you to your devices. Driving you away wasn’t an option.

Meanwhile you’re begging to God that somehow, someway, this engagement will be broken off peacefully, that you will never cross paths with the Agriches ever again. That you’ll split ways without a word, a mutual agreement that no-one would benefit from this marriage.

It never occurred to you that your future husband would do anything to prevent that.

The ‘chat’ ends with your father looking your way once more, only to realize with horror that Dion Agriche was already attracted to you, a hint of obsession in those red eyes and his hand threatening to grab your arm possessively as you turned your back towards him, excusing yourself to gather your thoughts in the restroom. 

Upon turning his head at the feeling of eyes on him, your to-be groom smiles eerily once he makes eye contact with his future father-in-law. The sight made your poor father nearly faint, and yet, it felt warmer than Lant’s. But horrible regardless. 

This entire time, you had thought that the beast held no interest in you, not realizing you were the lamb he had his sights on.

Not once realizing and noticing how he watched closely at your interactions with other people, other men after that split second of accidentally making eye contact with him at a ball that took place over a year ago. 

And now, in the present, you’re starting to realize things a little bit too late.