#and if you want to send it you can just put it in the comments or send a dm/ask with it :D

[stylesispunk]

The soldier in the armour | part iv

Marcus Acacius x f!reader

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

summary: Acacius put his plan on march, starting by sending you away with a sealing promise of returning back to you, but you cannot bear the thought of him fighting alone, and some plans are destroyed.

wc: 7k (lazy)

warnings: angst, age gap, mentions of miscarriage, blood, violence against women, power imbalance, kissing without consent, mentions of death. The events of this chapter happen on the same night.

a/n: Sorry for being so lazy about writing and updating lately. I'm just a teacher on her summer break. This one will be intense. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading. 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

"Hold my hand," Acacius said, extending his arm toward you. You were sitting by the fountain, feeding the fish. The last couple of days had been torture for you, and he wanted nothing more than to shower you with acts of love from the deepest part of his heart.

You looked up, your eyes meeting his. There was a softness in his gaze, a quiet determination that melted the tension in your chest. The cool breeze rustled the leaves above, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to pause.

Reluctantly, you placed your hand in his, feeling the warmth of his touch seep into your skin. He gave a gentle squeeze, as if trying to transfer some unspoken strength to you.

"Come," he whispered, his voice a balm against the chaos of your thoughts. "Let me take you somewhere…”

You hesitated, glancing back at the rippling water, watching the fish dart beneath the surface. But the pull of his presence was stronger. You stood, your fingers still entwined with his, and allowed him to lead you away from the weight of the past few days.

He led you through a narrow corridor you didn’t recognize, its walls lined with ivy that crept in through tiny cracks. At the very end, hidden behind a heavy wooden door, Acacius paused. He glanced back at you, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“No one else knows about this place,” he murmured, his voice low, almost conspiratorial. “It’s just for us.”

He pushed the door open with a soft creak, revealing a hidden courtyard tucked away from the rest of the villa. It was small, intimate, overgrown with wildflowers and shaded by an ancient olive tree whose twisted branches reached out like protective arms. The air smelled of lavender and sun-warmed stone, and the only sounds were the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant song of cicadas at dawn.

Acacius turned to you, his expression softening. “I come here when I need to feel... whole again.” His thumb brushed over your knuckles, lingering. “And I thought maybe, just maybe, it could help you too.”

There was a strange tone on his voice, as if he was lingering to your presence before slipping away from you, but you decided to ignore the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach.

"I know you're worried” you whispered, looking up at him to meet his gaze, smiling softly “but I’m gonna be fine. I’ll recover from this someday.”

“Can I confess you something?” He asked almost ashamed of the question

You nodded, inviting him to speak his truth.

"This is embarrassing for a general but I'm really scared."He confessed, “I…I have someone to lose this time"

Your breath hitched and sudden wave of anxiety crept into your bones.

"You won't lose me" you reassured, caressing his checks with your fingertips.

"From all the battles I fought. Falling in love with you came easily to me...I thought it was going to be difficult for a man like me to be deserving of someone like you.

"This sounds like a goodbye and I don't like that tone in your voice." You said, voice breaking at the thought.

“You know things could go wrong-“

“They will not.” You interrupted, reassuring him once again.

“Allowing myself to know you and love you has been the bravest thing I've ever done," he whispered, his voice trembling just enough for you to hear the depth of his fear, and his love.

Before you could respond, his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you gently but urgently toward him. His lips met yours in a kiss that was both fierce and tender, as if he were pouring every feeling inside on it, every hidden feeling into that single, breath-stealing moment. The world around you seemed to dissolve, the rustling leaves, the distant cicadas, all fading into the background as the warmth of his mouth ignited something deep within you.

Your heart raced, the anxiety still humming in the edges of your mind, but his touch grounded you, as always. You let your fingers trail through his hair, pulling him closer, as if anchoring him to this promise you both silently made.

You won't lose me. We won’t lose each other.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathless, hearts pounding in the same rhythm, at the same time. His eyes searched yours, as if trying to memorize this moment, to etch it into his soul.

Then, without warning, he kissed you again, this time with a raw urgency that stole the air left from your lungs. His hands slid from your jaw down to your waist, gripping you as though he could mold your bodies into one. His fingertips dug into your skin, tracing every curve, every inch he could reach, as if committing the feel of you to memory.

You responded in kind, your hands roaming over his shoulders, his back, clutching at the fabric of his tunic like it was the only thing tethering you to reality. The heat between you was electric, a fire burning bright against the looming shadow of what was to come.

When he finally pulled back again, his breath was ragged, his lips lingering against yours for a fleeting second longer. His hands framed your face now, thumbs brushing softly against your cheeks in contrast to the urgency of moments before. His gaze was heavy, filled with a thousand words he couldn’t seem to say.

He leaned in, pressing one lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips warm against your skin.

"My heart, my body and my soul belong to you in every lifetime." He whispered, nosing your neck, savoring the taste of your skin.

"My heart, my body and my soul belong to you in every lifetime. Since the day you saved me from the bathtub and sword you would love me." You whispered the same words back because you meant them.

He smiled against your neck, feeling his eyes watering already. For a man of a thousand battles these shows of affection tended to seen as a sign of weakness. But by your side he learnt about the vulnerability that it came when you loved someone.

You smelled like calm lavender, and your souls interviewed in an unbreakable thread destined to meet in every single lifetime.

You were his person; the best Rome had ever given him back for all the duty and sacrifice. It broke his heart to send you away.

He didn’t fear death anymore, but not seeing you again broke him.

Acacius helped you up, his strong arm supporting you, your heart still ached with the lingering sensation of his words, his love, his devotion. You walked together, the world outside the villa seeming quieter. His hand remained gently wrapped around yours.

When you reached back to the villa, the air felt heavy, as if something was waiting for you there. The grand doors opened to reveal Lucilla standing near the font, her hands trembling slightly as she stood motionless, her gaze distant. Her expression was clouded with worry, yet there was an undeniable sorrow in her eyes that you couldn’t ignore.

“Mother, what’s wrong?” you asked, stepping forward, concern flooding your chest as you glanced between her and Acacius.

Lucilla turned her head slowly, her eyes brimming with tears.

"They are here" she said, painfully ignoring your questions as she looked at Acacius.

"It's time" he said, painfully, avoiding looking at you for a moment, then he glanced at you "Look. They are some of my men. They are here to take you out-“

"I don't want to leave" you protested, coming to Lucilla, "Mother, please don't do this again. Come with me"

 You stepped back, your heart twisting painfully as you listened to Acacius, walking to your mother.

"I don't want to leave," you protested again, your voice trembling. You reached for her, the distance between you growing wider with every passing second. "Mother, please don't do this again. Come with me."

Lucilla’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and for a moment, she looked as though she might give in. But the sorrow on her face deepened, and she shook her head gently. "I cannot, my dear. I failed Lucius once." Her voice cracked as she spoke his name, a deep, haunting sadness settling over her. "I won’t fail you too. Not again."

You felt the sting of her words like a dagger in your chest. She was leaving you, just like she had left him. The memories of her absence in the darkest moments of your life, when you were fighting for survival, flashed before your eyes, and the thought of repeating that same pain was unbearable.

"So, you're failing me now?" you asked, the sharpness in your tone betraying the hurt you felt. Your breath was ragged as you held back tears, frustration and confusion bubbling up inside you.

Lucilla stepped forward, her hands trembling as she reached for you, but she stopped just short of touching you. "Oh no," she whispered, shaking her head. "I cannot bear the thought of losing you to this. If you're away, Geta won’t be able to use you as a tool against Acacius or me. I can't risk you being taken from me as he was."

The words stung, but in them, you realized the depth of her fear. She wasn’t abandoning you, she was trying to protect you, to keep you safe in a world where everything felt uncertain and dangerous.

"But I don’t want to be safe without you," you said softly, your voice breaking. "I can't go alone.”

Lucilla looked at you, her gaze softening for a brief moment, but the fear in her eyes remained. "I love you too much," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "And I can't watch you suffer here.”

Acacius stood behind you, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. His presence was a steady anchor in the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. He knew how hard this was for you, but his silence spoke volumes. He understood what it meant to love and lose, and now, he was offering you something that felt like the only way forward.

Lucilla’s voice quivered as she took a step back, her hands clenched at her sides. "I cannot go with you... but I will wait for you here. And I will pray that one day you come back to me. That we both do."

You felt as though your heart was being torn in two—torn between the woman who had given you life and the man who had become your lifeline. The conflict swirled in your chest, but all you could do was nod, unable to find the right words.

"I love you," you whispered softly to her, your voice breaking as the tears finally fell.

Lucilla gave you a sad, bittersweet smile. "I love you too, my darling. Always."

You turned to Acacius, your heart sinking at the pained expression that crossed his face as his gaze shifted from you to the three men who had appeared in the distance. His posture stiffened, his eyes narrowing as they approached with purposeful strides.

The moment felt heavy, like the air itself was holding its breath. His soldiers had arrived. The plan was set in motion. The urgency of the situation weighed down on both of you, but there was something else, something unspoken in the way Acacius held himself. His pain, too, was palpable. As much as he had sworn to protect you, he knew what this moment meant. The time for goodbyes was closing in, and there was no turning back.

"Acacius..." you whispered, your voice trembling as you reached for his hand. But he stepped back slightly, his jaw tightening as his men neared.

He glanced over his shoulder at you, his eyes full of regret and determination. "You need to go. Now."

The men stopped in front of him, their faces unreadable but their posture betraying the tension of the moment. Acacius addressed them with a tone that brooked no argument, his voice firm but clipped.

"Prepare the horses," he commanded, and one of them nodded before heading off to carry out his orders.

You looked at Acacius, pain flickering in your chest as you realized that the next few moments would change everything. The world you had known was slipping away, and there was no going back to the life you had before.

"You’re leaving me, aren’t you?" you asked, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them.

Acacius looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, but his gaze softened when he saw the hurt in your eyes. "No. I’m not leaving you." His voice was low and full of certainty, though there was a storm of emotions raging behind those words. "I’ll never leave you. But I need you to trust me now."

You nodded, though the uncertainty in your chest remained. His men were getting ready, and you knew that there was no time left to hesitate.

"Promise me you’ll come to get me back," you said quietly, the words more of a plea than a command.

Acacius stepped closer, his hand brushing the side of your face, his thumb tenderly tracing over your skin. "I swear," he said, his voice raw and filled with emotion. "I’ll come back for you. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure we’re together again."

The words were like a lifeline, but the storm of emotions raging in your chest made it hard to hold on to them. You wanted to believe him more than anything, but the world was so unpredictable, and you knew better than to expect anything in these dark times.

As Acacius turned to give orders to his men, you felt the weight of the world crashing down on you, the finality of this moment settling into your bones. You wanted to run to him, to beg him to let you stay, but you couldn’t, because deep down, you knew what he was doing was necessary.

This was bigger than the two of you.

Acacius cupped your face once more, his eyes soft but heavy with the weight of what was to come. He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, lingering kiss, one that spoke of promises and unspoken fears. His touch was tender, like it was the last thing he could give you before everything changed.

"Be safe," he whispered against your lips, his breath warm and full of urgency. "No matter what happens, remember that I will always love you."

Your heart ached as his words sank in, the depth of his devotion resonating through every fiber of your being. You nodded, though your throat tightened, unable to find the words to express what you felt. His love, his promise, were everything you had left to hold on to in this fleeting moment.

He stepped back slightly, his hand still resting on your cheek, and without another word, he helped you onto the horse. His movements were swift and precise, his touch strong but careful as he steadied you in the saddle. His gaze never left yours, filled with a quiet desperation, as though he could somehow will the situation to change with just his stare.

As he stood next to the horse, his hand resting on the reins, he gave a final, lingering look, as though imprinting you into his memory. Then, with a slow exhale, he spoke again, his voice filled with finality.

"Trust in me," he said, his eyes intense. "No matter what happens, trust that I will find a way back to you."

His men began to move in the background, preparing to take you away. Acacius placed one last kiss on your forehead, a soft, lingering touch that felt like it was marking the end of a chapter. The taste of his lips, the warmth of his presence, remained with you, even as he pulled away and nodded to his soldiers.

With a final glance, he stepped back, his face a mixture of sorrow and determination. His hand reached out toward you one last time, as if he wanted to pull you into his arms, to hold you just a moment longer. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

"Go," he said quietly, the word almost a command, but it carried so much emotion that it cut deep.

As the men took the reins of your horse and started moving you away, you cast one last look over your shoulder. Acacius stood there, still watching you, his face a mask of stoic resolve but his eyes betraying the pain that he had hidden behind his duty.

And then, as you were carried further away, the world around you began to blur. The sound of horses’ hooves pounding against the earth, the rustling of the wind, it all faded as you focused on the one thing that remained clear.

As the path beyond you seemed to haunt you, you tightened the cloak around your shoulders, its coarse fabric doing little to shield you from the chill that seeped into your bones. Every step away from the villa felt heavier and suffocating, each one pulling you farther from Acacius, your mother, and Lucius. The road stretched ahead, but your mind remained trapped in the past, tangled in memories and regrets.

You couldn’t shake the image of Acacius’s eyes, the way they softened when he looked at you, or the feel of his lips pressed against your forehead. The smell of lavender on his neck that seemed to lullaby you into sleep every time he wrapped his strong arms around you. Your heart ached thinking about your mother, her face etched with sorrow and strength as she pushed you to safety. And Lucius, your brother, the rightful emperor of Rome, forced to live as a slave under a name that was never his.

As Acacius's men guided you through the winding paths, the weight of your separation grew unbearable. You were being secured by Acacius’s army, hidden away from the dangers that loomed, but it felt more like a prison than protection. You were trapped in the middle of something larger than yourself, and the distance only amplified the helplessness curling in your chest.

Meanwhile, back at the villa, Acacius stood frozen, his gaze fixed on the direction you had disappeared. His heart clenched painfully, the hollow ache of your absence settling deep within him. A single tear escaped down his cheek, betraying the stoic facade he tried to maintain. The emptiness in his chest felt insurmountable, as if a piece of him had been torn away.

You were the Achilles heel on his life, he couldn’t bear the thought of you being away from his protection.

Lucilla, seeing the turmoil etched across his face, stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “She’s strong, like her father” she whispered, her voice steady despite the tears glistening in her own eyes. “And you will find your way back to her.”

Acacius’s jaw tightened, his hand coming to rest over Lucilla’s in silent acknowledgment. The touch sent shivers down his spine; it wasn’t love but understanding. The both of you letting go your heart away.

His eyes never wavered from the path you had taken, his heart silently vowing that no matter what, he would find you again.

Beneath the cloak, you knew you hadn’t far away from the villa. Just one bold movement and you could go back.

There was a weight that became heavier to bear. Acacius would risk his life to free an empire from its tyranny, and perhaps the power would go back to your family while your mother would get stuck in the middle and Lucius real identity would display.

Suddenly, the weight of it all became unbearable. Without thinking, you yanked on the reins, bringing the horse to a skidding halt. The men guarding you shouted in alarm, but their voices were distant echoes compared to the roaring in your ears. You leapt off the horse, your feet hitting the ground hard, and before they could react, you were running, running back towards the villa, towards the people you couldn’t abandon.

"Stop! Come back!" Acacius's men called after you, their voices laced with desperation. But you didn’t listen. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t let them risk their lives while you hid away, blind to whatever horrors might unfold.

you couldn’t turn your back on them. Not now. Now after all.

You were stronger than that. You were the daughter of Maximus Decimus, a man of honor.

You wouldn’t let them risk their lives while you hid away, blind to whatever horrors might unfold. The wind tore at your cloak, your breath coming in ragged gasps as your feet pounded the dirt path. Every step closer to the villa felt like shedding a layer of fear, replaced by a fierce, unyielding resolve.

The villa loomed in the distance; it brought a strange comfort to your heart. Your mind raced faster than your legs, what if you were too late? What if Acacius or your mother were already in danger? The thought spurred you on, ignoring the burning in your lungs and the aching in your legs.

Behind you, the shouts of Acacius’s men grew fainter, their figures shrinking against the horizon. But your heart was set, you belonged there, in the thick of it, facing whatever fate awaited alongside those you loved. As the gates of the villa came into view, your heart pounded not from exhaustion, but from the sheer force of your determination.

You were almost there.

"Acacius!" you shouted, breathless as you reached the entrance. As soon as he came into view, you crashed into him, and he caught you effortlessly, his arms wrapping around you in an embrace that felt like home.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was hushed, desperate, his hands moving to cradle your face, as if he needed to be sure you were real.

"I can't-" you gasped out, struggling to steady your breath. "Don't ask me to run away while you stay here. Please, don’t."

His fingers traced your jaw, his forehead pressing against yours as he exhaled shakily. "I can’t put you in danger," he whispered. "I won’t."

You closed your eyes, your breath mingling with his. His warmth surrounded you, grounding you, but the ache in your chest only grew stronger.

"How?" you whispered, searching his eyes. "How can I leave when you will be here fighting?

Acacius’s jaw clenched. "You know what will happen if you stay—"

"And you know what will happen if I go!" You pulled back slightly, forcing him to see the determination burning in your eyes. "I grew up in a world where privilege was handed to me until it wasn’t. My heart was humble until it wasn’t. I never realized how greedy I could be until I met you, until my heart started beating for you. I want everything that comes from you—your words, your breath, your smile, your heart, you. And if there is a chance, they take you from me, then I’d rather meet the spirits myself than live in a world where you don’t exist."

His breath hitched, and for the first time, you saw something break in him. A vulnerability so raw it threatened to consume you both. His hands trembled against your cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the tears you hadn’t realized had fallen.

"Please," he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Don’t make this harder for me."

Your heart twisted painfully. "Then don’t make it harder for me, either. You already know how voiceless women are here. Let me make my choice for once."

His eyes darkened with conflict, with love, with fear. And then, without another word, he crushed his lips against yours. it was a desperate, aching plea. A promise. A surrender.

When he pulled away, his breath was ragged, his hands still cupping your face as though afraid you’d disappear.

"Then stay," he whispered. "And if the gods are kind, we will survive this together."

But you were afraid the gods had never been kind to lovers like you.

Lucilla watched the exchange in silence before stepping forward. "My child," she said gently, "I know you are willing to risk your life for those you love. But this is not a fight you can win with your heart.”

You turned to her, desperation burning in your eyes. "I know this villa better than anyone. I grew up here. I know every passage, every hidden corridor. If I can get to Lucius, I can free him. We can hide. We can escape and Acacius and his army will free Rome."

"No," Acacius said immediately, shaking his head. "Absolutely not."

"He’s my brother!" you argued.

"And what happens when you get caught?" Lucilla’s voice was softer, but no less firm. "You think Geta or Caracalla will show mercy to you? He’ll use you against us, just as he always intended."

Acacius tightened his grip on you. "You are the only thing keeping me from turning this entire city to dust. If something happens to you, I won’t stop. I won’t care about the cost."

You swallowed hard, your chest rising and falling with each rapid breath. "Then let me help you. Let me help Lucius."

"The best way to help is to stay safe," Lucilla insisted. "We will find a way, Acacius-“

“Lucius will refuse Acaciu’s help.” You interrupted, “He took the city he was in, but I’m his sister.”

Acacius's jaw tightened, his eyes dark with frustration and the fear it came when danger seemed to follow you. He shook his head. "That’s exactly why you can’t go. You think he’ll just follow you? Lucius is stubborn. He won’t leave. He won’t abandon his pride, even for you."

"He will if I make him see reason," you pressed, your voice trembling with conviction you wanted to believe. "If I remind him who he is, what he stands for. He’ll listen to me."

Lucilla exhaled sharply, stepping between you and Acacius, her presence like a steady force in the eye of the storm. "And if he doesn’t? If he refuses, what then?”

You flinched at her words. The weight of this pressed down on you, but you refused to let it break you. "Then at least I’ll have tried," you whispered. "At least I won’t sit in hiding while the people I love fight for their lives."

Acacius turned away from you abruptly, running a hand through his hair, his breath ragged. "Damn it," he muttered under his breath before spinning back toward you. "Do you even hear yourself? Do you know what you’re asking me to do?" His voice cracked, raw and unguarded. "You’re asking me to send you straight into the lion’s den. To just…juts let you walk into danger while I stand back and watch."

"I’m asking you to trust me," you said, your voice fierce despite the tears burning your throat. "I have spent my whole life being protected, shielded from the ugliness of this world. But I am not some delicate thing to be tucked away. If we are to have any future at all, we must take risks."

Acacius closed his eyes, as if trying to drown out your words, to quiet the war inside him. Lucilla placed a hand on his arm, grounding him. "She is her father's daughter," she murmured, her gaze heavy with understanding. "You cannot change her mind when it is already set."

He let out a shaky breath, his hands curling into fists before he finally looked at you again. "If you go, you do not go alone."

Your breath hitched. "Acacius-"

"You do not go alone," he repeated, his voice leaving no room for argument. "I will not let you face this without protection."

Lucilla nodded. "I know someone who can get you into the cells unnoticed. But you must understand-this is your one chance. If something goes wrong, there will be no second attempt. No coming back for you."

Your heart pounded as the full weight of the decision settled in. There was no turning back now.

"Then I will not fail," you promised, meeting Acacius’s gaze.

But even as you said the words, you knew that fate was a cruel, unpredictable thing.

“I will wait for you at the end of the dungeon” He explained, “Once you free Lucius, both of you, especially you will come and going to go away. Then when tomorrow came, I’ll get everything settle for what’s coming.”

Lucilla’s expression was unreadable, but there was something in her eyes something like resignation. "We don't have time to argue anymore," she said finally. "If you're going to do this, you must go now."

Acacius stepped closer, his hands gripping your arms as if he could anchor you to him. His touch burned, searing into your skin, branding you with the weight of his worry. "Promise me," he murmured. "Promise me that no matter what happens, you won’t hesitate. The moment Lucius is free, you run."

You swallowed hard, nodding, though you weren’t sure if you could keep that promise.

Lucilla moved toward the entrance, glancing over her shoulder. "I will send word to the one who will take you inside. Wait for him by the servants' passage near the western wall. And keep your head down."

Acacius leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips. "Be careful," he whispered. "I need you to come back to me."

You lingered there for a moment, memorizing the feeling of his hands on you, the way his voice softened when he spoke to you, the way he looked at you as if you were something worth fighting for.

"Mia vita" he called out, stopping you on your tracks to kiss you softly, the pulled back slightly “Please don't let this to be our last kiss"

"We still have a life to live together" you smiled against his lips, peeking his lips once more "at peace this time"

"I will find you" he promised, peeking your lips once again, savoring every single second of this. "I'll be waiting for you at the end of the dungeon."

You nodded, feeling shivers down your spine. He kissed your lips again as if couldn’t let go because of the fear, tasting the sweet flavor of fruits on them, lingering to the feeling that in a few hours he would free Rome from the tyranny and escape with you to a happy ending, a happy life.

"Be careful, love" he whispered as you walked from his grasp.

Then, with one final look, you turned and disappeared into the shadows.

And as you did, Acacius stood still, watching you leave, his fists clenched at his sides.

He had never felt so powerless.

The night stretched long and cold as you moved through the villa’s outer corridors, keeping close to the stone walls. Every shadow felt like a threat waiting to cut you in half, every sound a warning. Your heart pounded in your chest, but you forced yourself forward. Your mother’s contact was waiting near the western wall as promised, a hooded figure who barely looked at you before motioning for you to follow.

"This way," he whispered, leading you through a narrow passage. "The guards are fewer tonight, but that won’t last long."

You nodded, pressing yourself deeper into the cloak wrapped around your shoulders. The passage led downward into the lower levels of the coliseum, where the scent of damp stone and burning torches thickened the air. With each step, the reality of what you were about to do settled heavier in your chest.

Finally, the man halted near a rusted iron gate, peering around the corner before motioning for you to stop. "Beyond here, you’re on your own. You already know where the cells, be fast my lady.”

You exhaled slowly, steadying yourself before slipping through the gate. The corridor was dimly lit, flickering torchlight casting shadows along the stone walls. You kept low, moving carefully. Every instinct screamed at you to hurry, but you couldn’t afford mistakes.

Then you saw him.

Lucius sat in the farthest cell, his head down, his hands bound in front of him. His tunic was dirtied and torn; his face shadowed with exhaustion. But he was still alive.

"Lucius," you whispered urgently, pressing yourself against the bars. His head snapped up, eyes widening at the sight of you.

"By the gods," he breathed. "What are you doing here?"

"Freeing you," you said, already fumbling with the lock. "We don’t have much time, Acacius has a plan, but we need to go now."

Lucius let out a short, breathless laugh. "Acacius? And here I thought you had come to your senses and abandoned him.”

You shot him a glare, your fingers working as quickly as possible. "Do you want to fight about this, or do you want to walk out of here alive?"

Before he could respond, footsteps echoed down the hall. Your breath caught.

The guards were coming.

You barely had time to think. With trembling fingers, you worked at the lock, gritting your teeth as the iron refused to give. Lucius shifted impatiently behind the bars, his gaze darting toward the approaching footsteps.

"Hurry," he muttered.

"I know," you hissed, forcing yourself to focus. The crude metal bit into your skin, but finally, with a sharp click, the lock gave way. You got the door open, and Lucius stepped out, shaking the stiffness from his limbs.

"We need to go," you whispered.

Together, you slipped into the shadows, pressing yourselves against the cold stone walls. The guards were close now, their voices carrying down the corridor. You gripped Lucius’s wrist, pulling him forward as you sprinted through the winding path of the dungeon.

Your breaths came fast and shallow, your heart hammering with every turn. The torches flickered wildly in the drafty halls, casting distorted shapes that sent chills up your spine.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you reached the end of the dungeon, the meeting place Acacius had promised.

But he wasn’t there.

You came to a sudden stop, chest heaving as your eyes darted around the empty space.

"Where is he?" Lucius whispered harshly.

You didn’t answer. He should be here.

He said he would be here. You thought.

A cold feeling crept up your spine. Something was wrong.

Your pulse thundered in your ears. Think. Think faster. Acacius wasn’t here. That meant something had gone wrong. That meant-

“We have to move,” you whispered, gripping Lucius’s arm.

He gave you a sharp look, but didn’t argue. You took the lead, slipping through the dimly lit corridor, your body tense, ears straining for any sound. The dungeon air was thick with dampness, every breath heavy in your chest.

Acacius had told you to wait. But waiting was a death sentence now.

He could be in trouble. He could be dead.

No. You forced the thought away. Acacius was strong. He was waiting for you somewhere else. He had to be.

Lucius kept pace beside you, his voice low and urgent. “Where are we going?”

“Out,” you said, scanning the hallway. “I know another way.”

A narrow servant’s passage was carved into the farthest wall, one you had used as a child to sneak out when the world inside these walls had felt too suffocating. You yanked open the hidden door, pushing Lucius through before slipping inside yourself. The stone closed behind you, sealing you both in darkness.

The passage was narrow, forcing you to move single file. Your fingers trailed the rough stone as you navigated through the twisting tunnel, the air cool and stale. You could hear Lucius’s uneven breathing behind you, but neither of you spoke.

You reached the end and pressed against the wooden panel that led to the outside. For a long moment, you hesitated.

If Acacius wasn’t here, it meant something had shifted in the plan. But you had no time to figure out what.

You had to keep moving.

Bracing yourself, you pushed the door open and stepped into the night.

The night air was a fleeting whisper of freedom before it was ripped away.

The moment you and Lucius stepped beyond the hidden passage, torches flared to life, illuminating the ring of imperial guards waiting for you. The glint of their drawn swords was the only warning you had before rough hands seized you.

Lucius struggled, his fury a silent storm beside you, but he was outnumbered. A soldier slammed the hilt of his sword into his stomach, and he collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath.

“Lucius!” you shouted, lunging toward him, but another set of hands wrenched you back.

A grizzled guard stepped forward; his expression smug beneath his bronze helmet. “Did you really think you could slip away unnoticed?” he sneered.

You twisted against their grip, but they held you firm. “Where is Acacius?” you demanded. “What have you done to him?”

The guard chuckled darkly. “Worry for yourself, little dove.” He leaned in, his breath rank against your cheek. “Emperor Geta will not be fond of you after this treason.”

Your stomach twisted. Geta. He knew.

The guards yanked you and Lucius apart, dragging him in the opposite direction. He thrashed violently, eyes burning with desperation as they pulled him away from you.

“Stay strong,” he shouted. “Don’t give them what they want!”

Then he was gone.

You fought harder, but it was useless. The last thing you saw before they forced you forward was the blood-red banners of the empire swaying in the cold night air.

The throne room was suffocating with tension, the air thick with the scent of oil and burning torches. Acacius and Lucilla stood before the imperial dais, their bodies rigid as Emperor Geta lounged with lazy arrogance in his gilded chair. Caracalla stood beside him, his fingers curling and uncurling as if barely restraining his temper.

The moment Acacius learned you had been captured, something inside him had snapped. His presence alone carried a storm, his jaw clenched, fists curled at his sides, the veins in his neck straining with suppressed fury.

“Where is she?” Acacius demanded, his voice like thunder cracking through the hall.

Geta smirked, swirling the wine in his goblet. “Who?” he mused, feigning innocence. “Oh, you mean your wife.” He sighed dramatically. “A shame, really. I expected more from you, Acacius. But in the end, even the great general is brought to his knees for a woman.”

Acacius took a menacing step forward, only for Lucilla to press a warning hand against his arm. “You do not want to do this,” she whispered, though even her voice carried the edge of a threat.

Caracalla’s lip curled; his rage barely restrained. “You made a mistake, Acacius. You should have fled with her when you had the chance.”

“I will get her back,” Acacius growled. His eyes snapped to Geta, cold and unrelenting. “Emperor Geta, torture me if you want, but don't dare to lay a finger on my wife.”

Geta’s expression darkened at that word.

His knuckles went white around the goblet before he set it down with deliberate slowness. “But I will,” he said, his voice dangerously smooth. He walked towards Acacius, stepping closer, his grin cruel. “Now, I’m going to see her.”

Acacius lunged, but the guards were already between them, forcing him back as Geta strode from the room. The moment the doors slammed shut behind him, Acacius let out a roar of frustration. He whirled, striking one of the marble pillars with his fist hard enough to crack the stone.

Acacius’s chest heaved with each ragged breath, but when he turned to face Lucilla next to him, his eyes were filled with something worse than fury.

Desperation.

His hands clenched into fists again. “I will kill him. I swear it.”

The cell was damp and smelled of rust and decay. You hit the ground hard as the guards shoved you inside, the impact jolting through your knees and elbows. The cold stone bit into your skin, but you barely felt it, your mind was reeling, heart hammering in your chest.

"You should have stayed where you belonged," one of the guards sneered from the other side of the iron bars. "Emperor Geta will not be fond of you after this treason."

You lifted your head, eyes burning with defiance. "I still have you to make him beg for mercy."

The guard scoffed but did not reply. He only smirked, slamming the barred door shut with a loud clang before disappearing down the corridor, his footsteps fading into the darkness.

You exhaled sharply, forcing yourself to sit upright. Every part of you ached, but pain was the least of your concerns.

You exhaled shakily, pressing a hand to your face as tears threatened to spill. But you wouldn’t cry.

Instead, you allowed yourself a moment to gather your strength. Tomorrow was coming, and with it, the arena and whatever fate awaited Acacius. Whatever happened, you wouldn’t let Geta break you.

Then, a sound.

Footsteps. Slow. Measured.

A chill ran down your spine.

You knew who it was before you even saw him.

The door creaked open, and there he stood.

Emperor Geta.

The first thing he did as he took glance of you was grabbing your face forcefully with his hand, forcing you to spare him a glance. He wouldn't even dream of seeing you like this, is disbelief, with your hair a mess, and bloody. You weren't made for a life like this, but now under these conditions, this was the closest he had come to have you.

"Escaping with that slave, my dear lady? You marrying Acacius felt less insulting than this." He said, looking dead into your shining orbits.

"Marrying you would an insult to myself. I would rather eat shit than be tied to you." You spatted.

Geta's smile widened as a cruel laugh escaped his lips as his studied your features. Your before soft skin seemed dirty by drops of blood and dirt. You were a delicate doll, but now smashed and crumbled.

Geta’s expression twisted, his smugness evaporating in an instant. His jaw clenched, and his eyes burned with rage. Before you could react, his hand lashed out, the sharp crack of the slap ringing through the chamber.

The force of the blow snapped your head to the side, and you stumbled, catching yourself against the floor. Your cheek stung, the pain radiating hot and angry, but it was nothing compared to the cold fury swelling in your chest.

Geta loomed over you, his breath heavy, his hand still trembling from the strike. “You will not speak to me that way,” he hissed, his voice low and dangerous. “You forget who holds your life in his hands. You forget who I am. I'm the emperor and you're just a prisoner granted privileges because of your mother and Acacius" his face got close to you, "but now you're a mere slave accused of treason."

You spit on his face. The anger and loathing consuming like a fire burning your body.

Geta took his hand to his face, cleaning your spit with disgust written on his face. You had ended with his patience and he couldn't bear it anymore.

Just a few hours ago you had been secured on Acacius big arms, surrounded by the faint scene of laurel and lavender that seemed to calmed you down.

Now the stink of dirt and humidity rusted your nostrils. You wanted to close your eyes and feel the lavender on your nose, Acacius lips on your temple. You wanted him to save you, you were pleading the gods.

"Please stop this...let me see him" you begged, your voice broken. "Don't hurt him."

Lifting your gaze to see if by chance there would be a tiny bit of sympathy dancing on his eyes, you face the coldest gaze you had ever seen.

"Acacius' life is on my will, your mother's...even that beloved gladiator of yours." He got closer once again, looking directly to your eyes, you felt his wine breath on your face, "Test my patience once again, my lady and I will snap my finger like this" he snapped his fingers in front of you, getting closer to your lips you can almost feel his on your and it felt repulsive "and all of them will be dead. All of them!"

You gritted in protest, the repulsion of his touch filling you with an instinctual fear that made your skin crawl. The air between you felt suffocating, and the words he spoke echoed in your mind like a distant nightmare, gnawing at the edges of your sanity.

You tried to pull away, but his grip tightened, forcing you to remain still as his lips lingered too close to yours. The stench of wine and bitterness clung to him, every part of him an invasion to your thoughts, to your soul.

"Don’t you dare," you hissed, your voice trembling but filled with defiance. You refused to let him have the satisfaction of breaking you.

“You have no idea what I could give you,” Geta began, his voice low and smooth, carrying the weight of his authority. “Power, wealth, freedom to rule by my side as my wife. Everything you’ve ever dreamed of could be yours if only you’d open your eyes and choose me.”

You hold your gaze, your heart pounding in your chest as his lips pressed forcefully against yours. The taste of wine and greed made your stomach churn, and every inch of your body screamed in protest. This was not love. This was a sick obsession, an attempt to break your will and twist your bones. You clenched your fists, refusing to let him see the fear creeping at the edges of your resolve.

"I would rather die than choose you," you spat, your voice full of venom.

“I don’t care what you want” he said, pulling away just to stand up, smiling cruelly down at you on the ground. "Chain her to the wall." He ordered the guards

Your despair filled the dirty dungeons "No, please. Don't" you squirmed under the men's hold "Let me go!"

The cold stone wall bit into your skin as the guards’ iron chains wrapped around your wrists, pulling you taut against the damp, dark dungeon. The echo of your cries was swallowed by the silence of the place, but inside, your fury burned with an intensity you had never known. You clenched your teeth, fighting the tears that threatened to fall, determined to stay strong.

"Goodnight, my princess," Geta’s mocking voice lingered in the air long after he was gone, a cruel reminder of his power over you.

Your screams followed geta's steps as he walked away from you. You were left there to drown in your own tears as you curse and whatever plan his Machiavellian mind has.

Your fingers tightened into fists, nails digging into your palms as you whispered a curse under your breath, a spell woven from the ancient words passed down through history. Soon the future of Rome would be defined and you were going to take charge of it.

Tags 💌: (if you want to be removed feel free to tell me. I'm super shy when it comes to tags. By the way I couldn't tag everyone)

@greenwitchfromthewoods @joeldjarin @picketniffler @sptbear @heartpatch @immyowndefender @nobodyssfool @behomewhenthestreetlightscomeon @idkwhylou @jasminedragoon @ro-nahime-things @hduuc56 @mamustreads @itsafullmoon @tuquoquebrute @ccmoonshine @fvispunk @here-briefly @elisha-chloe @geekandbooknerd @guelyury @dlwrish @legoemma @scrappyskin @orcasoul @kluvspedro @onlythehobi @stormseyer @spideybv28 @spacelatinos4life @hduuc56 @foledean @negrita2345 @capswife @missadangel @spencercmlover @leahwwinchester @areyoutheretoru @nosebeers @discowitchyy

[yaniluvs]

ꪆৎ where love , feels like home

[ 리노 ] ✷ . . 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽.

۫ 𖨂 𓈒 𝑏f!minho ₊ ‎ ‎ 𝑔n!reader g. domestic fluff , established relationship. I,7OOw. ⎯⎯⎯ L𝒾BRARY . 𓋜 . cw. suggestive , kisses , close proximity , intimacy. ✦ requested drabble. ! ࿐

yani's note ✿ hi again >< double post bc i'm motivated? might post more today... hehe. comments, likes, req/asks and reblogs are always appreciated ! send in a reply or an ask if you want to be in my mastertag, or my individual series' taglists. happy reading, darling <3

the air in the bedroom feels warm, the remnants of earlier lingering in the space between you both. your body is heavy with exhaustion, muscles still tingling from the intensity, and your breaths are steadying but slow. the sheets are a tangled mess beneath you, barely covering your bare skin, and your boyfriend—who had collapsed beside you just minutes ago—shifts slightly, turning his head to look at you.

his smirk is lazy, a little smug, the corners of his lips curling in amusement as he watches you blink up at the ceiling. " 're you alive, darling?"

you groan, refusing to answer.

minho chuckles, rolling onto his side, propping his head up with his palm. he’s still completely bare, but he doesn’t seem to care, his other hand dragging across your skin absentmindedly. his fingertips skim your arm, your stomach, your thigh—soft, lazy, like he’s mapping you all over again.

"should i call an ambulance?" he teases, voice dripping with mischief. "or a priest?"

"shut up," you mumble, turning your head toward him. your limbs feel too heavy to move, but the way he's looking at you makes warmth bloom in your chest.

minho grins, his bunny smile peeking through before he leans down, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your forehead. "i’m taking that as a ‘yes, my beautiful boyfriend, i am alive, and you are the absolute best, most skilled man to ever exist.’"

you roll your eyes, but a weak laugh escapes you. "you’re so annoying."

"and yet, you love me," he sings, shifting to sit up. his body stretches, muscles flexing under the dim evening light filtering through the curtains. then, he sighs and pats your thigh.

"alright, superstar, let’s get you cleaned up before you start fusing with the sheets."

you groan in protest, barely managing to turn your head towards him. "too tired."

minho snorts, rolling his eyes. "yeah, no shit. you look like you just ran a marathon."

you blindly reach out to smack his arm, but he easily dodges, amused. "watch it," you mumble, voice sluggish. "i’ll bite you."

his smirk widens. "you promise?"

"minho."

"alright, alright," he laughs, patting your thigh before slipping out of bed. "stay put, baby. i’ll take care of you."

you whine in protest, curling further into the sheets, but minho only clicks his tongue. he’s already moving, already taking charge in the way he always does when it comes to taking care of you.

"lazy girl," he mutters, "if i leave you here, you’ll just pass out and then complain later."

you peek at him through half-lidded eyes as he grabs a clean towel from the drawer. he’s still bare, wearing sweats and no shirt, still nonchalant about it, and the way he moves—effortless, unbothered—makes you want to drag him back into bed.

but before you can even consider it, minho is already kneeling back beside you, gently coaxing you onto your back as he wipes you down with the warm, damp towel. his touch is tender, patient, and even though he’s not saying much, you can feel the quiet care in every movement.

"..you okay?" he asks suddenly, voice softer now. he’s not looking at you, too focused on his task, but you can tell he’s listening.

"yeah," you murmur, watching him. his brows are slightly furrowed, lips pursed in thought as he works.

"sure?" he finally glances at you, and for a moment, the teasing is gone. it’s just minho—serious, attentive, waiting for your answer.

your chest tightens at how much he cares, even when he doesn't always say it outright. "i’m sure, min."

he studies you for a beat longer before scoffing lightly. "good. otherwise, i’d have to start putting a ‘handle with care’ sign on you."

you swat at his arm weakly, making him laugh.

after he finishes cleaning you up, minho tosses the towel aside and pulls the blanket over you before grabbing a fresh shirt from the drawer—one of his, of course. he slides it over your head, helping you slip your arms through.

"there, all warm and cozy," he hums, patting your head. "now stay."

your chest flutters at his words, but before you can dwell on it, he’s already moving. he disappears into the kitchen, and you hear the sound of running water. a moment later, he returns with a warm, damp towel in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

"here," he says, sitting beside you and pressing the glass to your lips. "drink."

you hesitate. "i’ll spill it—"

"i got you, lovely." his tone is softer now, less teasing, more patient. he tilts the glass gently, watching as you take slow sips. when he’s satisfied, he sets it aside and gets back up.

"where are you going?" you grumble, voice muffled as you nestle deeper into the covers.

"to make some amazing food," he replies, already pulling on a new pair of shorts. "unless you wanna eat air for dinner?"

"nooo, stay."

he sighs dramatically. "baby, you need to eat."

"you too," you mumble.

"that’s why i’m cooking," he replies, amused. "what do you want? something light? soup? or do you want something heavier?"

you peek up at him through sleepy eyes. "can i have rice?"

minho snorts. "you always want rice. what kind?"

"something warm. and comforting. and yummy."

he flicks your forehead lightly. "wow, such a specific request. thank you, i now have so much to work with."

"you’ll figure it out. you always do."

his expression softens, but he quickly masks it with another teasing scoff. "yeah, yeah. you’re lucky i love you."

you grin. "i am."

minho stares at you for a moment, something unreadable in his gaze, before he leans down and presses a lingering kiss to your forehead. "brat."

"stay for a bit." you say, pulling him and not giving him another option.

minho pauses, lips twitching. "so clingy, baby," he teases, but the way he’s already climbing back onto the bed betrays him.

he slides in beside you, his arm immediately wrapping around your waist as he pulls you into his chest. his skin is warm, comforting, and you melt into the embrace without hesitation.

"five minutes, hun," he murmurs against your hair, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple.

"ten," you counter, tucking yourself closer.

minho huffs, but he doesn’t argue. instead, he lets his fingers trail up and down your back, absentminded and soothing.

minho chuckles, his hold tightening for a brief moment before he finally sighs. "alright, time’s up. let me go make food before you start nibbling on my arm."

"you okay?" he asks, not looking at you, but his focus is entirely on you.

"yeah," you murmur, watching him.

"you sure?" this time, he does look at you, brows slightly furrowed. "not sore anywhere? i didn’t go too hard?"

a laugh bubbles out of you, weak but genuine. "minho, i’m fine."

he eyes you for a moment longer before huffing. "you say that, but if i catch you wincing later, i’m gonna scold you."

you smile sleepily. "you always scold me."

"for good reason," he mutters. then, after a beat, he clicks his tongue. "you’re so messy. i should start making you sign a waiver before we do anything."

"minho," you whine, burying your face in the pillow. "can you not bully me while i’m recovering?"

"i’m not bullying you, i’m lovingly teasing you. there’s a difference."

"not really."

minho smirks. "you love it."

you glare at him, but it holds no heat, and he knows it. with a satisfied hum, he tugs you into his chest, shifting you into a more comfortable position. his body is warm, solid, and you melt into him without hesitation. and then he gets back up.

then, with zero warning, he leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek, then your nose, then your lips—quick, soft pecks that make you giggle.

"min—"

"shh," he smirks, giving one last kiss before pulling away, and getting up. "go back to resting, superstar. stay put. i mean it. don’t try to get up."

"i’m not five," you grumble.

minho raises an eyebrow. "yeah? then stop acting like a clingy toddler."

"you love it."

he smirks. "i do."

then, before you can retort, he disappears into the kitchen.

you sigh dramatically but let your eyes flutter shut, knowing that when you wake, minho will be there—with food, with warmth, with care, even if he’ll mask it with teasing.

and that’s definitely more than enough.

for a while, the only sounds filling the space are the distant clatter of pots and the occasional muttered curses from minho. you drift in and out of light sleep, the warmth of the blanket and the lingering scent of him keeping you comfortable.

after what feels like forever, he finally returns, carrying a tray with a steaming bowl of rice and soup.

"okay, sit up, lazybones," he announces, setting the tray on the nightstand. "i made chicken porridge. best thing for post-marathon recovery."

you roll your eyes but obediently sit up, stretching. "you’re never gonna let that go, huh?"

minho smirks. "nope." he lifts the bowl and scoops a spoonful, blowing on it before holding it out to you. "here."

your heart swells at the gesture, but you still pout. "i can feed myself."

"i know," he replies simply, still holding the spoon. "but i wanna do it."

you sigh but lean forward, letting him feed you. the warmth of the porridge spreads through you immediately, soothing and comforting.

minho watches you, satisfaction flickering across his face. "good?"

you nod. "really good."

"obviously," he sniffs. "i made it."

you giggle, letting him feed you a few more spoonfuls before taking the spoon from him. "i got it now."

"mm." minho leans back against the headboard, watching you eat with lazy contentment. then, casually, he says, "if you don’t finish it, you’re getting another scolding."

you narrow your eyes. "you’re so bossy."

"and yet, you listen to me."

you groan. "unfortunately."

minho smirks but doesn’t push it. when you finish, he takes the tray and sets it aside before tugging you back down into his arms.

"there," he murmurs, pulling the blanket over both of you. "all taken care of."

you sigh happily, pressing your face into his chest. "you’re the best, you know that?"

minho chuckles, low and warm. "yeah, i know."

you slap his arm lightly, making him laugh. but then, he presses another kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

"get some sleep, baby," he murmurs. "i got you."

and with his arms around you, steady and sure, you believe him.

mastertag ୨୧ @cosmicalily @hyunjiiza @modesttiger @woozarts @katsukis1wife @bddaramjis @reignessance @peskybirdysya @honeyybbuubblleess @ellemir2404 @4ng3l-ch1ld

!! please let me know under this post, or this one, if i forgot you in the taglist, my inactivity made me lose track, i'm really sorry !!

[anghimalaaynasapuso]

DISCORD BOYFRIEND KÖNIG

sfw + nsfw. this is just an amalgamation of all my ideas

könig has never been one for putting his face on social media. even before the scars that pull at the skin of his cheek, reshaping his expression in ways he’s never fully grown used to, the idea of being seen, really seen, has never sat right with him. there’s a certain comfort in anonymity, in keeping the world at arm’s length. easier that way. safer.

that unease, paired with what some might consider his more nerdy interests, means he gravitates toward spaces like discord rather than the highly curated feeds of instagram or facebook. there, he doesn’t have to worry about photos or videos— just a username, and a presence in text.

his handle is simple: king 👑. a nod to the name he’s carried for so long, stripped of rank, stripped of weight.

even in the server where he’s most active, he keeps things vague, blending into discussions about games, military history, or whatever niche interest has caught his attention that week.

every now and then, he’ll let something slip— a mention of deployment, an offhand comment, disappearing for months at a time, only to return with a sudden burst of activity. some put the pieces together. most don’t. and könig prefers it that way. it’s easier to let them think he’s just another guy with spotty internet.

your first interaction is rather simple in retrospect.

he’s back after weeks of recon, shaking off the mission like dirt from his boots, easing into the familiarity of a gaming server he’s called home for years.

it’s not a small server, so new people come and go. he does his usual routine— an automated, slightly impersonal welcome but what he doesn’t expect is the sheer enthusiasm in return.

“hi!!!!”

he stares at the message for a second, counting the exclamation marks. three. four. five? a small smile tugs at his lips before he even realizes it.

it doesn’t take long before you’re at his metaphorical side, sending a friend request before the conversation even shifts from your college courses.

the older members tease him. something about his last deployment scrambling his head enough to take a newbie under his wing. he lets them talk. he doesn’t mind.

soon enough, you’re in his private messages, dramatically lamenting your latest loss in a game he’s only vaguely familiar with. könig listens— well, reads— as you rant, words spilling out at a rapid-fire pace, interspersed with keyboard smashing and increasingly incoherent frustration.

he’s not much for new releases, preferring to sink his teeth into a single game for months on end, grinding away until mastery is muscle memory. still-

one evening, without preamble, he sends you a link. his profile. in your game.

the response is immediate. ‘king!!! 🥺’ you type, followed by an onslaught of keyboard mashing that takes up half his screen.

he exhales a short laugh, shaking his head. he wonders if you know how easy it is to make him grin like an idiot.

the calls are… an unexpected development.

könig doesn’t make a habit to join server calls. ever. it’s not even about anxiety, not really, just preference. too many voices, too much noise. he never expected to be comfortable enough with anyone to want to be in a call, let alone initiate one.

but when you start gaming together, it becomes a necessity. typing mid-match isn’t exactly efficient, and you’re the first to point that out.

“okay, listen, king, i am not about to lose another ranked match just because you take five years to type ‘behind you.’” he huffs, amused, but relents.

soon enough, calls become second nature— no longer tied to gaming, no longer requiring an excuse. you always ask first, polite thing that you are, and könig always agrees. sometimes it’s an unspoken invitation, a simple “call?” sent in the quiet hours of the night. sometimes he beats you to it, pressing the button before he can think too hard about it.

one time, it’s you who calls. he answers on the first ring.

“are you- wait.” you pause, listening. there’s a distinct, rhythmic thud-thud-thud in the background. not footsteps, but something heavier, more controlled. “are you on a treadmill?”

“mm.” his voice is steady, unaffected. a quiet confirmation.

you gasp, and he can practically hear the amusement brewing in your tone. “oh my god! you actually work out? i thought you were lying.”

he snorts, breath hitching slightly as he adjusts his pace. “why would i lie about that?”

“i don’t know! you just- i mean, you sit at your desk all day, playing the same game for hours, and you’re always online at weird times-”

“you are describing yourself,” he points out.

“shut up.”

there’s a pause, and then, with the kind of mischief that only comes from knowing exactly how to push his buttons, you add, “prove it.”

he slows to a walk, swiping open his phone. a moment later, you receive a picture. him, flexing. the lighting is dim, but you can still make out the cut of his forearm, the solid shape of his bicep. just to humor you, he throws up a peace sign.

“not stolen from pinterest.”

you burst into laughter so sudden and bright that he finds himself smiling before he can stop it.

you learn what it means to miss könig pretty early on.

it happens suddenly. one day, he’s there, active as usual, sending the occasional meme, idling in voice chat even if he’s not talking. the next? radio silence. not even a ‘typing…’ indicator.

at first, you don’t think much of it. maybe he’s sleeping in. maybe he’s busy. time zones are weird. it’s fine.

but then a whole day passes. then another. you check his status— nothing. not offline, not do not disturb, just… gone.

curiosity turns into concern, and before you can think better of it, you ask in the server.

“hey, anyone heard from king?”

the response is casual. unbothered. “oh, dude’s probably deployed again.”

you blink. reread the message. “deployed?”

“yeah, king’s military.”

there’s no warning for the way that statement knocks the air from your lungs.

military? as in, real-life combat? as in, war zones and danger and actual life-or-death situations?

you stare at the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard, unsure what to even say to that.

he doesn’t resurface for weeks.

you don’t realize how much you’ve come to rely on his presence until it’s gone. his absence is loud in the quiet moments of your day, in the spaces where a message from him would normally be.

you check the server out of habit, catching yourself before you can search his username. it’s stupid, you think. you barely know him. he’s just some guy from a discord server.

but the worry lingers.

and then, one day, just like that— he’s back.

his return is as unceremonious as his disappearance.

no dramatic entrance, no fanfare. just a simple “hello.”

you see it the moment he sends it. your stomach flips.

before you can stop yourself, you send a private message. “you’re alive.”

a moment passes. then— “yes.”

you frown. “you were gone for weeks.”

“i know.”

frustration bubbles up. “you could’ve said something.”

“i couldn’t.”

you hesitate, fingers tightening around your phone. you don’t know what you were expecting. an explanation? reassurance? but it’s clear you’re not getting one.

but then, a follow-up message. one that feels heavier, more careful. “i’m sorry.”

and just like that, the irritation dissolves.

it’s strange, the way things slip back into place after that.

he doesn’t talk about it, and you don’t ask. but something shifts. after that deployment, könig starts telling you when he’ll be gone. nothing in detail, really. just a simple, “i’ll be away for a bit.”

(it means everything.)

slowly, you get used to it. the rhythm of his presence and absence, the way your conversations pick up right where they left off, as if no time has passed at all.

it goes on for months. this… thing between the two of you. könig doesn’t hesitate to call it friendship, though he knows, knows, it’s something else entirely.

something with edges softer than companionship, something that lingers in the pauses between conversation, in the way you had whispered his real name under your breath when he revealed it to you.

he doesn’t rush to name it. doesn’t push. he lets it simmer until it feels inevitable.

in the end, it’s you who breaks first. technically. not that he’s keeping score. not that he would ever rub it in your face, especially when he was a mere day away from asking the very same thing.

it starts with a message. no preamble, no buildup. just a simple: hey, what are we?

könig sees it and reacts before thinking. presses the call button so fast his thumb practically smashes the screen. it rings once, twice—

“you didn’t even ask.” your voice comes through, half exasperated, half amused.

“didn’t want to give you time to unsend.” his own voice is steady, but his heart is anything but.

you huff. “bold assumption.”

“not really.”

a pause. he hears you shift, fabric rustling, the sound of you settling in. something warm and slow uncoils in his chest at the familiarity of it.

“so,” you start, hesitant. “what’s your answer?”

könig exhales, tipping his head back against his pillow. “do you want the truth?”

“obviously.”

he hums, considering. in reality, he’s known the truth for a while now. probably before you even realized it yourself.

“i like you,” he says, simple, sure. then, because he knows you, because he knows your deflections, your habit of teasing when you get nervous, he adds, “and i’m very aware you like me back.”

you sputter. “that’s a bold assumption-”

“not really,” he repeats, smug this time.

you groan, but you’re laughing, and it sends something bright flickering through him.

könig doesn’t ask for nudes. not once. he flirts, he teases, but never pushes. he knows your boundaries, respects them, never even hints at wanting more. if anything, he’s careful. too careful, sometimes. like he’s afraid of crossing a line you haven’t even drawn.

so when you finally send something, it’s your choice.

the first picture is tame. barely anything. it's a shot of your thighs, soft and warm in the low light of your room. nothing scandalous. nothing too revealing. but the second you hit send, your stomach twists with nerves.

könig sees it immediately. you watch the typing bubble appear, disappear, then appear again. and then— “fuck.”

you grin. “good?”

“you have no idea.”

it only escalates from there.

könig never requests more. but when you send it, when you want to send it, his reaction is worth it. he worships you through the screen, tells you how beautiful you are, how much he wishes he could touch you.

“pretty,” he texts once, attached to a voice message.

you press play. his breath is ragged, like he’s just run a mile. “pretty thing,” he repeats, voice tinged with something almost reverent. “you’re going to ruin me, love.”

the first time he sends you something, it takes him forever to work up to it.

you don’t ask for it. wouldn’t dream of pushing him into something he’s not comfortable with. könig isn’t shy, necessarily, but he’s private. you know that by now.

so when, out of nowhere, a picture pops up on your screen, your brain short-circuits.

it’s cropped carefully, but there’s no mistaking what you’re looking at— bare skin, broad shoulders, his stomach flexed just slightly.

“you like?” he texts after a minute.

you swallow hard. “yes.”

“good.” and then— “more?”

you bite your lip. “please.”

könig gets bolder after that.

he sends more. never too much, always teasing, always just enough to leave you wanting. sometimes it’s his hands, sometimes it’s his abs, the sharp cut of his hip bones, the waistband of his sweatpants hanging just low enough to make your mouth water.

one night, he sends a voice message instead. you press play.

at first, all you hear is his breathing. then, slowly, softly— your name, whispered through a noise that makes heat bloom low in your stomach.

“wish you were here,” he murmurs. “wish you could see what you do to me.”

the actual nudes don’t take long. not ar all. you’re both desperate. buzzing. könig’s the one who caves first.

it starts with your text. 10 p.m., the hour where inhibitions slip through grasping fingers like sand.

“wanna see your cock so bad, könig…” you murmur to your propped phone, cheek pressed to your pillow, another one stuffed against your chest like it might replace the hollow ache between your ribs. a distraction. a poor substitute.

on the other side of the screen, he exhales, dragging a hand down his face. fingers tensing, then flexing, like he needs something to hold onto. “love-” your whine cuts through before he can even think. instinctive. needy. his stomach clenches. “okay, okay. as long as you're sure.”

his heart pounds as he opens his photos. he doesn’t exactly collect dick pics, but there are a few kept locked away, private albums, a passcode he suddenly fumbles to enter.

three minutes. that’s how long it takes to choose the best one. the right angle. the right lighting. enough to make your breath hitch when you see it.

he hits send before he can overthink it, then leans back, phone balanced on his thigh, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

your phone buzzes. the photo pops up. you blink, breath hitching sharp in your throat.

“oh my god.” the words spill out of you before you can even think to stop them. “könig…” you stare at the screen, gaze locked on the thick, heavy length of him. the way it curves slightly, resting against his thigh like it’s weighed down by its own sheer mass. your breath stutters.

“you're so fucking big.” it barely registers that you've said it aloud.

“yeah? you like it?

“like it?” you shoot back. “i want it inside me.”

his breath leaves him in one harsh exhale. he shifts, hips rolling involuntarily like he can feel your words on his skin.

“can i see you too?” he sounds so polite. and then, as if that wasn’t enough to twist the knife deeper— “please?”

your stomach flips. you bite your lip, already reaching for your phone camera, the need to show him everything burning through you like wildfire.

your breath comes shallow as you slip your hand lower, phone steady in the other. the need is a pulse under your skin, throbbing, insistent. you pull the covers back just enough, the cool air prickling against the heat between your thighs.

the camera catches everything. your slightly parted thighs, your swollen clit, the wetness gushing out of your hole. it feels like baring a secret you’ve never told anyone. you hesitate for half a second, heart racing, then hit send.

the second the message disappears from your screen, it hits you— you just sent that to him.

on his end, könig freezes. the photo loads slow, torturous, and when it finally pops up, he feels his whole body tense, blood rushing south so fast it’s dizzying. “f-fuck, i need to be inside of you-”

sex with könig, if you can even call it that, at first, sneaks up on you. you never thought you’d be the kind of person who got into this. sending texts that made your face burn, leaving voice messages you could barely listen back to without cringing. but with him, it’s different. easier. less embarrassing because it’s him.

still, going from nudes to actual phone sex takes some time.

“gonna sleep,” könig texts you once, attached to a blurry photo of his bed.

“alone?” you send back, teasing.

the typing bubble appears. then disappears. then— “obviously.”

you grin at your phone, satisfied. but then— “but i could use some company.”

you stare at the message longer than you’d like to admit.

didn't tell him that you had woken up panting, arousal between your thighs, könig’s name on your lips too many times. didn't tell him that you had pressed your hand against your clit during your calls, to the sound of his voice, to his laugh, to the quiet, wrecked groans he sometimes lets out when he stretches after a workout.

in the past, you hadn't told him how many times you’d dreamt of him because you thought you'd scare him off, kept your mouth shut about the images that haunted you at night, of his hands pinning you down, his mouth at your throat.

but you wanted to.

and tonight, you would.

the conversation turns slow. lazy. heavy with something unspoken.

“you sound tired,” könig murmurs, voice warm. he’s always like this late at night. soft, unhurried, like he’s sinking into the sound of you.

you swallow hard. your skin feels too hot, too tight. “i’m not.”

a pause. then, lower— “what is it, love?”

you hesitate, pressing your lips together. it’s too much. too embarrassing. but he knows something is different.

“talk to me. tell me what you’re thinking.”

you let out a shaky breath. “i had a dream about you.”

the silence stretches.

you can hear him inhale. you bite your lip. force yourself to continue. “i think about you. when i-” you stop. you can’t say it. can’t admit it.

könig exhales through his nose, like he’s trying to steady himself. “when you what?”

your stomach is a knot of nerves. but you want this. want him. so you take a breath, close your eyes. “when i touch myself.”

his breath stutters.

“fuck.” the word is almost a groan. your pulse hammers, blood rushing through your ear as heat pools in your stomach.

“könig,” you whisper.

he exhales, whispers his next words like a beg, “say it again.”

you swallow. “i touch myself to you.”

“i do too.”

your stomach flips. “what?”

“i-” he cuts himself off with a quiet curse, like he's frustrated with himself for hesitating. “i touch myself to you too.”

your breath catches. heat blooms in your chest, spreading down your spine. “könig-”

“all the time.” his voice is lower now, raw, like he's aching with it. “when i can't sleep. when you're on call with me, laughing, teasing me. when i wake up hard in the middle of the night and can’t stop thinking about stuffing you full.”

your body is burning again, despite the aftershocks still rolling through you. you're about to choke out a reply when you hear it— the rustle of fabric, the faint creak of bedsprings, the wet slide of skin on skin.

“are you-”

a sharp inhale. “yes.”

“let me hear you,” you whisper, thinking about his pretty, pretty cock. uncut, soft skin stretched over the flushed head, the way it would slide back when he’s fully hard, revealing the deep pink of his leaking tip. the veins that wind down the length, standing out against the pale skin

there's a pause, a hitch in his breath. then, slowly— “okay.”

there's a small rustle, könig adjusting himself on the bed. the faint sound of him pumping lotion on his hand. a quiet sigh. and then, a low grunt as the warmth of his palm wraps around his cock.

könig looks down at his hand, eyes half-lidded, hips bucking up in small thrusts. he imagines your pussy instead of his fist, hot and tight and so fucking warm, fluttering around his length as he pushes in, spearing you open with a cock too big for your little cunny.

he knows you’d cry for him, little gasps and hiccupped moans, squirming beneath him as he bullies his cock deeper, past that tight ring of muscle into the slick, warm clutch of your cunt.

“a-ah- fuck, ah-”

your breath stutters at the sounds, hips grinding against your palm. “wish i could see you.”

“on cam?”

you groan, squeezing your thighs around the pillow in-between your legs, grinding your clit against the material softly. “yes, please..”

fuck, you're so polite.

[etherealyoungk]

─ ♡ crash course in romance | kwon soonyoung (TEASER)

SUMMARY: meet kwon soonyoung, he’s the ultimate goofball— sweet and chaotic but clueless when it comes to romance. so when you ask him to be your fake boyfriend even though you barely know him, he says yes, even though he's never dated before and has no idea what to do. as you show him the ropes and coach him on how to be the perfect boyfriend and slowly get to know him, soonyoung finds himself slowly falling for you. and maybe, just maybe, you're falling for him too

PAIRING: kwon soonyoung x fem!reader

GENRE: strangers to lovers, fake dating, best friend’s brother, first love, light slow burn, humour.

WARNINGS: kissing, fluff, angst, mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption, use of curse words, little suggestive, cameo of roommate!seungkwan and other svt members, hoshi being a clueless idiot

WORDCOUNT: teaser wc - 1.2k | estimated full fic wc: 30k

A/N: FINALLY WRITING A LONG FIC FOR MY HUBBY! this is my teaser for my fic that is part of the lonely hearts cafe collab by @camandemstudios! if you want to be apart of the taglist for this fic, comment/send an ask or sign up for the taglist form here.

you’re about to pull up at your best friend, jihyo’s place and you dial her number, calling her up. she picks up after four rings, her voice filling the space in your car.

“hey”, she says. “hey jihyo, i’m about to reach your place to collect my mail and other packages”, you say. “oh, i’m actually not at home right now, but i’ll tell soonyoung to hand them over to you, i think he’s dropped by”, jihyo says.

you can hear the bustle of people talking through the phone as she speaks. you decipher that she must be at work. “sure, okay”, you say, cutting the call before jihyo mumbles something about calling you back later and you pull up at her driveway a few minutes later.

you step out of the car and walk up, ringing her doorbell. usually you’d ring the doorbell and walk right in, but considering she wasn’t there, you didn’t want to suddenly intrude, it felt odd. you wait a few moments and you can hear the shuffle of feet from the inside, along with a soft thud of something falling, probably a box. the door finally opens and you’re greeted by kwon soonyoung - jihyo’s younger brother.  

“hey, yn right? jihyo told me you’re here to collect your mail and stuff”, he says with a slightly frazzled face, like he was put to this task last minute and had no idea what to do, like a deer in headlights. you nod and he gestures for you to enter and you walk inside as he disappears back in the other room, probably to fetch your mail. you’d asked jihyo to drop by your place if she could to collect your mail since you’d been out of town for two weeks on a business trip and didn’t want anyone stealing your packages or snooping around.

you’d known jihyo ever since you joined university. she was your roommate and now bestfriend. she was kind, sweet, funny and a little chaotic, but you loved everything about her. so naturally, you’d been to her house countless times, and met her brother too - soonyoung. he was two years younger than jihyo and you, and he was honestly really sweet. when you’d come over during the break or to hang out, you’d see soonyoung only occasionally or bump into him when you were entering or leaving as he’d always be doing his own thing. but now, you were probably seeing him for the first time since you graduated university and started a job, having moved a little further away. so it’s been almost three years since you saw soonyoung again, because whenever you’d meet jihyo now, it was always in the city or somewhere out, not at her home.

soonyoung had changed a lot. he’d grown tall and his hair, which had been virgin black was now dyed a silver blonde. it had grown too, his hair falling over his forehead in a cute shaggy mess and growing a little long at the ends, almost at the beginning stages of a mullet and somehow, he pulled it off, it looked good on him. his face was framed by soft rounded features and he somehow radiated a youthful, approachable glow about him. his almond-shaped eyes are soft, but also sharp, holding warmth. and lastly, he had definitely been hitting the gym because he looked different - he looked good.

two minutes later, soonyoung walks into the room holding a big box with a smaller box stacked on top of it along with a few small parcels and then envelopes. “this is all the stuff”, he announces, like he’d just accomplished a huge task by collecting all of this for you. 

“thanks!”, you say, taking a step forward to take the box but he speaks again. “let me load it up in your car, it’s a bit heavy”, he says as he looks at you, blinking. “okay, sure”, you say and you open the door, walking outside towards your car with soonyoung following beside you. you unlock the car and pop open the trunk and soonyoung sets down the pile of boxes with a soft thud before taking a step back. 

“thanks again soonyoung”, you say, looking up at him. now that he was right next to you, you realise how tall he’d actually grown. he gives you a polite smile as he runs a hand through his silver blonde hair, the strands of hair getting messed up, falling on his forehead in a cutely dishevelled way. “it’s no problem”, he says and with that you give him another small wave and head out, driving back home.

when you get home, you find your apartment spick and span - quite the contrast to which you had left it, considering you had left on the business trip in rather short notice. but now as you walk inside, your shoes are all neatly lined up by the side, the bunch of laundry that had been rotting on your bed for two weeks was neatly folded and kept aside in your wardrobe, your mugs which had piled up were all neatly rinsed and washed and your fridge was stocked with new food - no doubt all the doings of your mother. 

you immediately reach for your phone and dial your mother’s number and she picks up almost immediately, like she had been waiting for your call. you drag your suitcase to your room and leave it there, taking off your coat and throwing it on your bed.

“mom, did you drop by?”, you ask, already knowing the answer, but you liked to tease her. you visibly hear her sigh and hold back your laugh.

“no darling, a ghost dropped by your apartment”, she deadpans, making you let out the laugh you were holding. “i don’t even think a ghost would want to live in your apartment in that state”, she adds. 

“i was busy and i had to leave on short notice”, you counter. “that’s what you always say”, she says and you scowl. “it was really short notice”, you say and she only hums in response.

“thank you mom, i love and appreciate you for that”, you say after a moment. “i made your favourite, it’s in the fridge”, she adds and you smile. your mom really knew the way to your heart. you walk towards the kitchen and fill the kettle with some water.

“so, did you meet any cute guys on your trip”, she asks and you let out a small groan at her question. of course that’s what she’d ask you first, not how the trip was or how work was.

“no mom, it was a work trip”, you say, letting out a sigh. “still! you should keep an eye out”, she says. “after you broke up with jaehyun you’ve been sulking around. it’s time to find a guy and settle down”, she adds and just then the kettle lets out a whistle, signalling that the hot water is ready. you take a mug from the shelf and pour the boiling hot water, watching as the steam curl at the top before you drop in a tea bag, watching the tea leaves slowly seep into the water, turning the water into green tea.

“for the millionth time, he broke up with me mom, and i just need some space right now, i’m not in the mood for a relationship, nor do i have the time”, you tell as you take the mug of tea and walk over to the couch, plopping down on it, putting the mug on the table beside you.

“nonsense, if you start dating again you’ll feel better. do you want me to find someone for you? i found this guy, i’ll send you his picture, i can set you up with him on a blind date and -”, you cut her off.

“mom, i’m serious about the no dating thing right now”, you say and she clicks her tongue in disapproval. “i’ll still send you his picture if you change your mind”, she says as you take a sip of the hot tea.

if you want to be added to the taglist for this fic, send a comment/ask!

taglist: @joshuaahong @paindivinemp3 @fallingforshua29 @itsveronicaxxx @frankenstein852 @weird-bookworm @mirxzii @naaaaafla @gyubakeries @lvlystars @icyminghao @kyeomyun @ihrtboo @n4mj00nvq @yoozuku @imujings @wheeboo

[rawflwrs]

Can you pls write some more about terry ?

▐ sugardaddy!terryrichmond ୫ camgirl!reader

summary: after a long day of spending daddy’s money, you both decide to end the night giving your viewers a show.

writer’s notes: I tried my best with this, although it was rushed, so it’s definitely not my best work. I apologise if you don’t like it! I’ve just been busy with assignments, so I’ve been distracted. I also added visuals this time, so let me know if you guys enjoy them and want me to add them in future smut fics. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy and don’t forget to like, comment & reblog </3 !!

warnings: explicit language, begging, pet names (daddy, princess, etc) overstimulation, dacryphilia, clit slapping, bimbofication, finger sucking, choking, spanking, age gap relationship and praising — bratty!sub!reader & dom!terry

tags: @luvrsluxe @gardenof-venus @theogbadbitch @fairygoround @nayaesworld @catxo @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @kenshisluvrgirl @bigjuiciisushii @todorokishoe24 @notapradagurl7 @writingsbytee

Terry knew you were high maintenance before he met you. The way your bedroom lit a soft shade of baby pink with gold and cheetah print accessories surrounding you, your nails and toes always freshly done, either in a sparkly baby pink or a basic french tip: you made sure you were put together. After all, all you did was dress up like a doll and men paid to witness it.

It was one of the few things Terry noticed about you. He never intended to come across you as he believed that watching porn or anything remotely related, wasn’t of any benefit to him, knowing that if he had any sexual needs, there were always a list of women who would be at his beck and call.

But before he knew it, Terry became one of your top contributors, starting off by sending you five thousand dollars in the first stream he joined and progressively adding another ten thousand for every stream after, just to hear you thank him as you pressed your toys into your glistening pink hole.

Terry loved the idea of spoiling a pretty girl like you, hearing your giggles as you repeatedly thanked him for sending you so many gifts or when you joked that you needed to see him in person to thank him properly: he knew that he needed you. When you had announced you were going to do private calls for your top contributors, Terry made sure he was number one on that list.

You were nervous. It was obvious that the person named ‘@/treatsfromterry’ was clearly obessessed with you and although you liked the idea of someone being so desperate for your attention that they would spend what felt like their lifesavings on you, you were also terrified that he would be some old creep.

You were so wrong. When a muscular caramel toned man, wearing thin rimmed glasses and a short sleeve black wife-beater popped onto your zoom call screen, you couldn’t believe your eyes. He was beautiful. You felt your mouth drop open slightly at the sight as his deep chuckle filled your ears. “You okay there, beautiful?” He questioned, fixing his camera position to ensure you can see him clearly. “Mhm” you trailed off, eyes lowering to his biceps. They were so big and soft: you wanted a bite.

“I need to hear you use your words, princess.” He sighed out, feeling himself harden at the sight of you wearing the lingerie he asked you to wear for this special occasion. “I’m fine, daddy. I just didn’t expect you to look so good.” You giggle, remembering that he asked you to only call him daddy. The name definitely fit the view you were seeing. “Thank you, baby. I appreciate you wearing that for me.” He smiled, motioning towards your lingerie.

You smiled. “I mean you spoil me so much, it’s the least I could do. Do I look pretty?” You moved closer to your laptop camera, purposely angling it to face your breasts as you slowly message them, circling your brown areole’s. “So fucking pretty, princess.” He groaned, the ache in his pants getting worse. You smiled, leaning back before thanking him again. “Is there anything specific you want me to do for you, daddy?” You asked.

Initially, Terry thought about asking you to masterbate on the call to watch you moan his name, but he realised that it would be better to see that in person. “No, I just want to ask you one question.” He leaned forward to look directly in your eyes. “Oh? Go ahead, but I’m just letting you know that if I feel uncomfortable, I won’t hesitate to block you.” You said softly, attempting to set your boundaries as clearly as possible.

“I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable, princess. Tell me if I’m going too far, okay?” He assured you while you simply nodded.

“Outside of this-” he started, gesturing towards the camera, insinuating that he was referring to you being a cam girl. “What is your goal? What job do you aspire to have?” He questioned and it caught you off guard. It’s not usual that one of your viewers even care to ask about how your day was, never mind what your aspirations are. “I want to be rich.” You answered, earning a deep chuckle from him. “What?! I’m serious. I don’t aspire to work. I just want to make money and be happy.” You said truthfully. He found your answer fascinating because it wasn’t one he was used to hearing.

“What if I can be the one to make you rich and happy?” He asked, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip, patiently waiting for your response. “Wh-what do you mean?” You questioned, feeling your body warming up from the tension. Although, he was miles away from you, he made his presence very known. “I’m an investor. I like to invest into businesses I know will be profitable and successful for me-” He started, before you cut him off, “you invest into people too?” You asked. “Not people. . . Just you.” He adjusted his glasses.

“I want you to be my sugar baby.” The comment had you puzzled. It wasn’t like people had never asked you to be their sugar baby, but it wasn’t normal for someone of his calibre to openly ask. “That means I get to spoil you and all I ask for in return is your time and attention.” He continued. You were still silent, debating on whether it would be a good idea as you only started your cam girl services to fund for your college tuition fees, not because you wanted to have close ties to the lifestyle long term. “You can continue your streaming services if you think that’s something I wouldn’t want you doing anymore. I just want you. I want to feel you and be close to you. That’s all I ask for, sweetheart.” He said as you thought deeply about the advantages of being a sugar baby.

“How do I know you’re really rich? You could just be lying to me to get me to meet you.” You pestered. He laughed before pulling out his phone, tapping a few buttons and showing you the amount of money he had in his bank account. You audibly gasped which caused him to laugh harder at the thought of you questioning his wealth. “Does that answer your question?” He asked. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your sugar baby.” You replied almost immediately. “Good girl.” He smiled once more. And with that, your relationship with Terry began.

Who would’ve thought that a year later, you would be walking around Chanel with a 6 ft 3 man, spending his money on whatever you touched. I mean, you had been in the store for less than hour and he already spent over twenty thousand dollars. Terry sat in the corner of the store, tapping away at his phone to handle some business dealings while keeping a close eye on you, knowing you get lost when you’re not in the right mind. “Daddy, come look at this.” You asked softly as he held one finger at you to tell you to wait a moment. “Just give me a minute, sweetheart.” He replied.

You hated when he wasn’t paying attention to you, especially because you knew that whatever he was looking at wasn’t more important than you. “Why do I even bother.” You pouted, grabbing your bags and attempting to leave the store without a second thought. Terry immediately followed after you and paused your movements, noticing your demeanour shift. “I’m here, princess. I’m sorry, you know how work is right now.” He grabbed your chin for you to look up at him. “You said you wanted my time and attention, whole time, you’re too busy on your stupid fucking phone!” You barked back, attempting to walk away before feeling your arm get yanked back.

“Who the fuck you talking to like that? I’ll fuck you up in front of everybody.” He started. “Tread lightly. This bratty attitude ain’t cutting it for me.” He warned. Yes, Terry was a sweet man who was never aggressive with you unless you asked him to be, he still would never tolerate disrespect and recently you’ve been having more bratty outbursts than usual. At first, he thought you were simply hormonal, but as it became consistently worse, he became more agitated that you thought your behaviour was acceptable. “Whatever.” You storm back into the store, ignoring glares from the workers and continue your shopping.

It wasn’t long before you were laying across Terry’s lap on your stomach with your camera angled just so your viewers can see his chest, but not his face as he spanked you in the room he dedicated in his house as your filming room, covered in Sanrio themed accessories after you told him you loved them. “You can take it, princess.” He spanked your plush ass again, watching it slowly bruise up as the live gained more traction with people sending more gifts and reactions. “M’ sor-so sorry, daddy! Please!” You pleaded, feeling yourself start to lose your vision as you stained your cheeks with wet hot tears.

“But you look so pretty like this, mama. Don’t y’all agree?” He questioned, almost taunting the viewers as he landed another harsh slap. Your live stream was gaining more views by the minute, but all you could think about was how much you needed his touch. “Pl-pleasee, daddy. Touch me- I want it so bad.” You cried out. “I nee-ed you.” You breathed out. “That’s all you had to say, princess.” He lifted you to straddle him, facing you towards the camera as he spread your legs open for them to see. “Look at how wet you are.” He slapped your clit harshly, causing you to yelp and jump forward from the impact.

You covered your mouth with your hand as he continued to slap your clit four more times, chuckling after each slap. “Dadd-ah pleasee!” You squealed, knowing your body was giving up on you. Terry used his left hand to grab you by your throat, applying a little bit of pressure to assert dominance. “You know I don’t like brats. Why do you keep playing with me?” He whispered in your ear, rubbing your clit in a circular motion, slowly. “M’ sor-” you were cut off by him applying more pressure to your throat. “You’re sorry? Were you sorry when you embarrassed me today?” He questioned, his grip on your throat getting tighter as he fastened the pace of rubbing your clit.

You couldn’t even respond due to the pressure he had on your throat. Terry moved his left hand up into your mouth as you attempted to catch a breath. He stuck his two fingers in your mouth, watching you suck them softly. He almost forgot you were on your live stream until he heard a ping from your computer which indicated you had reached over fifty thousand viewers: a new milestone. “People like seeing me use you, princess. Should we do this more often?” He asked, pushing his fingers further down your throat while you simply nodded.

He pulled his fingers out your mouth, watching closely as a string of your saliva creeped out. You coughed at the feeling of your airways being free. “You’re my filthy little slut. Aren’t you, angel?” He teased, using both of his hands to rub your clit aggressively. You gripped onto his biceps, your face contorting from the mixed pleasure that you were receiving. Your pussy ached from the heat and you felt yourself losing consciousness. “Aww, you gonna pass out on daddy? But I’m only just getting started, baby.” He cooed. “You can take it.” He bit your shoulder.

The lewd sounds of your pussy squelching, your inconsistent moans and your sweat dripping from all parts of your body made viewers wish they were Terry right now. It was fucking disgusting. You practically losing yourself and he hadn’t even fucked you yet? You were pathetic. He slowed down his pace when he saw you squirting and your juices nearly hitting your laptop camera: truly cinematic.

He groaned at the feeling of his cock aching just from the sight. Terry knew when you started squirting like this, you weren’t far from cumming. “You close, bunny?” He teased as your legs trembled in response. “M’ c-close, pa!” You squirmed, closing your eyes shut while he rubbed you gently, still ensuring his touch was firm. You felt yourself slipping away into your own headspace as you knew you would cum any moment now. That was until, he moved his hands away from you, earning a loud whine.

“You think I’d let you cum after how you acted today? Nah, get on all fours.” He pushed you off him, causing you to fall to the ground. Your legs were still wobbly, but you knew better than to argue with him. After all, it was your mouth that got you in this position in the first place. You sat up on the bed, getting into his preferred position. “Stretch that ass out.” He ordered, watching you spread your ass hole open, ready for him to stuff your ass, whole.

You knew you were in for a long night.

[cognitiveoverload]

Rejection (Aaron Hotchner x reader)

summary: Being Hotch’s favorite is hard, but when he suddenly asks you out, you don’t really know if you’d like to make things harder for yourself.

tags: fem!tech analyst!reader

note: There will be more parts, not necessarily in chronological order. What do you think, what situations will they find themselves in? Send an ask with your idea, and let’s see what will happen.

At first, it was just a casual and genuinely innocent observation from Spencer. “Have you noticed that Hotch calls only you if he needs something?” he asked one day as he sat between you and Penelope in your little den.

But then this comment spread through the BAU like wildfire, making everyone think back of all the times their boss needed information, and look at that, they all remembered the same detail–it’s not just the fact he was always calling you, it was the fact he always called you by your first name.

And that’s how the constant teasing began. Derek, Emily, JJ and Penelope tormented you, with Spencer occasionally joining to spit out some facts about the both of you, while Rossi targeted Hotch as far as you knew. It was mortifying, really, but you got used to it.

What you still can't get used to is the change in your boss’ behavior. Recently he’s been different, although you can’t quite put a finger on what it is that changed. Sure, maybe he shows up a little more often in your office, strictly when Penelope isn’t around, and he brings you coffee when you’re working late or arrive a little too early as he does.

“How are you holding up?”

You turn your swivel chair around to look at Hotch, who’s standing in the door with an almost worried expression on his face. He sent Penelope home a few hours ago when a case affected her too much, and now apparently it was time for another wellness check in your little office. It’s hard to miss the way he’s flexing his fingers, a clear sign that he’s nervous, although you’re not a profiler, so you remain silent before you say something stupid.

Thinking about his question, you realize one thing. “It didn’t really affect me. Does this mean something’s wrong with me?” you ask him.

His lips part as he takes a shallow breath and thinks about what you just said. For a moment you think he’ll not give you an answer, but then he sits on the edge of your desk and watches you with a small smile. “It only means you’re tough. Look, you said, ‘It didn’t really affect me,’ which tells me it did affect you, just not as intensely as it did Garcia for example,” he explains kindly.

Nodding, you look down at your hands in your lap, but your gaze rises when he bumps his leg into your thigh. You expect him to say something, but Hotch remains silent, and he even acts like he didn’t do anything at all. There is one little thing that’s different, though. That barely visible smirk, the one you’ve all seen before.

Times like this it’s hard to comprehend the extremes in his behavior. He can act like this, so kind and supportive, but he can play rough too, especially when he loses control. And times like that, like a few days ago when he yelled at an agent who tried to take a case from him, you can’t help but think about how he could yell at you any time with you even thanking him.

Because, as pathetic as it might sound, an angry Hotch is simply irresistible. You probably have some issues that should be analyzed, but that’s tomorrow’s problem.

“I often wonder how you all can do this every single day. Penelope told me to brace myself when I arrived, but… It’s hard sometimes,” you admit quietly. “Yet, there are cases that don’t really make me feel anything. I can’t really wrap my head around that.”

His brown eyes soften in sync with his expression, and then his lips curl into a smile. “You’re a good person, never forget that. Not feeling anything might be your brain’s way of protecting you. Either way, if you ever want to talk, you know where to find me,” he tells you as he stands up.

You nod, then return to your computer once he’s heading to the door. But then the sound of footsteps suddenly dies, and when you turn around to see if he has just disappeared into thin air, you find him watching you with a thoughtful look. Your brows furrow in confusion, but you don’t say anything, you just wait for him to spit out whatever’s on his mind.

“Aren’t you hungry?” he asks casually.

It seems like an innocent, regular question between co-workers. The members of the BAU often team up in pairs or bigger groups to grab something, even Hotch joins them for a drink in a bar or dinner in some restaurant nearby. But he has never, ever gone out to eat with someone alone. Maybe with Rossi, but that doesn’t count.

So, it’s no wonder you have to think about the offer. You would be on thin ice, the team already has a little too much fun with the fact Hotch is playing favorites with you. If you have dinner with him alone, they might think you’ve been in some secret relationship all along.

In the end, the rational–or maybe rather paranoid–side of your brain makes the final decision. “Thanks, but I’d rather go home after I finish this,” you say, pointing at your computer.

He nods, and you begin to think he’s about to leave, but then he gulps and takes a deep breath, as if he’s gathering the strength or courage to say whatever’s on his mind. “I have paperwork that can’t wait, but I can give you a ride home after I’m done,” he offers, and there’s a look in his eyes that you can’t quite identify.

“No need, I’ll be fine, but thanks anyway,” you tell him with a forced smile.

The last thing you need and want is Hotch taking you home. He means well, you know that, but you can’t risk being seen by someone who could easily start a rumor. The problem is, he’s almost as old as your dad, so people would talk about your nonexistent daddy issues, and he’s your boss, which would only make things worse.

So far the whole joke about being his favorite is something that stayed within the team, but if it gets out and reaches HR, you’re both done. You don’t want that, but not because of yourself. Hotch is ambitious, he’s insanely good at office politics, and if he wants to be promoted, he can’t be involved in such scandals.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by the sigh that leaves his lips. He looks almost disappointed, which is something you don’t really understand, because you can’t remember anything that could be even remotely rude. What is his problem? Or is there something he wants to talk about, something he wants to get off his chest?

Before you know it, he closes the door and walks back to you. “I’ve been making offers, and you turn down each and every one of them without hesitation. Why?” You can’t help but give him a confused look, because you have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about. Well, you know, but why does it bother him? “Is it because we would be alone?”

“It’s just… Wouldn’t it be weird?” you ask.

He inhales and exhales slowly before he suddenly crouches in front of you. “Look, there is a chance it will be weird, yes, but why don’t we give it a shot to see, huh? Come on, just you and me. If you’re afraid someone we both know will see us, we can go somewhere away from the usual crowd.”

You tilt your head to the side as you watch him, observing the look in his eyes, the small smile that makes your heart melt, and you simply can’t get yourself to say no to him. “Why?” you ask, although you know the answer, you just want to hear him say it.

“I’m sure I don’t have to spell it out for you,” he says with a boyish smile.

Gulping, you nod. A date. Aaron Hotchner wants to go on a date with you. But he’s your boss, if you started a relationship, there would be the danger of the aftermath of a breakup. Would you really like to risk it? You love this job, you love this team, you love Penelope, losing them wouldn’t be worth it.

You lick your lips as you push your chair back to build some distance. “I really have to get back to work now, and I’m sure Jack would be happy if you got home before bedtime,” you say, even though it hurts to turn down the invitation.

Hotch lets out a disappointed sigh as he stands up. “If you change your mind… you know. Good night.”

“Good night.”

[tpwk-formula1]

I saw your Drabble ideas 🥵

What about Lance Stroll ( I know he has like 10 fans but stay with me) with a pregnancy/lactation kink 🥵🥵 he’s really been on my mind lately

AN: I'm ngl Im not really a Lance girlie but I loved writing this so I hope you guys love it too!

TW: MDNI 18+ Lacation/ pregnancy kink. nipple orgams

WC: 950+

Y/N POV

Being 8 months pregnant in the middle of an F1 season is not necessarily ideal but Lance is finally on summer break which means for the next two weeks we get to do nothing but relax in Montreal before he has to go back to work.

"I think I'm starting to produce," I comment while rubbing my sensitive boobs softly.

"Oh, really?" Lance says while walking towards me to meet me in the middle of the room. When he gets close enough he's already rubbing my very swollen belly.

"Ya, Ive leaked through a couple shirts already and it's only 2 in the afternoon," I whine getting frustrated with going through so much laundry.

"Just wear nothing than," Lance smirks while jokingly pulling at the end of the Aston Martin shirt I had thrown on. I jokingly send him a glare but when he leans down and places a soft kiss on my lips I kind of just melt into his touch.

"I'm mostly joking, but what about one of your nursing bras with some breast pads in them," Lance says softly while still rubbing soothing circles on my bump.

"I tried that earlier but the pads where rubbing against my nipples too much and it was making them too sensitive," I respond which only makes Lance look at me with a soft smirk.

"Sensitive huh?" Lance comments which makes me look at him with a raised brow.

"Bet I could make you cum with just a little bit of nipple play," Lance comments with a smirk knowing I've been extra horny since being pregnant and it really doesn't take much to cum for him anymore. But just nipple play? I doubt it plus I was leaking which would make it all too messy, which makes me shake my head at the thought but the thought of it has my pussy slightly throbbing.

"You're thinking about it aren't you?" Lance teases making me look him in the eye and nod softly. Lance takes this as his chance to softly pull my shirt over my head leaving my top half completely bare given I hadn't put a bra on after leaking through the first one.

As soon as the air hits my already sensitive nipples I can feel a bead of my milk pebble out making Lance look at it before gently rubbing his thumb over it making me whimper at the touch.

"Oh I'm gonna have you cumming in the next 10 minutes," Lance smirks when he seems how sensitive they really are. He brings up the thumb that's gently coded in my milk before bringing it up to his mouth and sucking it off making me grow red in embarrassment but when I see Lance close his eyes and enjoy the taste I can't help but grow weak in the knees.

"Tastes so good baby," Lance says softly while pushing me towards the bed and gently laying me down on my back while he climbs into the bed next to me.

"Look so fucking pretty like this," Lance keeps praising while rubbing my swollen bump before slowly bringing his hand up to my slightly leaking nipples.

"Oh fuck," I moan gently when Lance pinches my nipples making more milk leak out. I can feel the pleasure from my nipples going straight to my pussy.

I feel Lance start kissing my shoulder and slowly moving closer and to my nipples where he instantly latched his mouth onto my right nipple while still teasing my lift one.

"Mmmm, so good," Lance mumbles when he gets a weak stream of milk filling his mouth. While Lance is sucking on my right nipple he keeps playing with my left leaving me a whimpering mess under his touch.

"Lance," I moan softly when I feel myself really starting to dampen my panties wanting to touch myself.

"More Lance please," I whine trying to push Lance's hand towards the waistband of my pants but he keeps a firm pinch on my nipples making me whimper at the feeling.

"I said I was making you cum just by playing with your nipples," Lance says before leaning back down and taking my nipples back into his mouth while giving it a small bite knowing how much I love a little pain mixed with my pleasure.

I could tell that I really was gonna be able to cum like this if Lance kept playing with me like this.

"Shit, Lance," I moan when he keeps pinching my left nipple between his fingers making me whimper when he starts pulling at them while pinching.

"Lance," I whine a little louder when I feel myself nearly the edge of my orgasm which quickly has Lance shifting slightly so he can take my left nipple into his mouth and start pinching my right nipple instead making me gasps as I feel the milk in my left milk start to spray out slightly.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I start loudly moaning as I feel myself starting to fall over the edge.

Thats when Lance gently bites down on my nipple and tugs it's between his teeth while pinching and pulling my other nipple helping me ride out one of the more intense orgasms he has given me while pregnant.

"Oh! Lance," I cry as I relax into the waves of my orgasm.

Once I slowly start coming down from my orgasm Lance gently releases me nipples but brings his mouth back towards each one giving it a gently suck to help sooth any pain he might have caused.

"I'm not gonna lie, you taste divine," Lance says with a smile playing on his lips before he leans down and gives me a gently kiss on the lips.

-----------

The end! I hope you enjoyed!

[somefanchick]

-Leona’s Pride and Prejudice-

(This story is from Leona's perspective anytime the events of book three. It does include mention of the Cloudcalling on the Savanna event. I only know information from the English server story and events so sorry if anything is terribly out of character. This fic is platonic and is cannon for my Yuu-sona, but I do just call them (Yuu) in the story [she/her] [feminine terms]. Hope you enjoy!)

(Triger Warning: cussing, derogatory terms, drunk individual, and some sexual harassment towards (Yuu).)

I had a hard time understanding the Ramshackle prefect. She would put up with things that would piss most people off and then fly off the handle at things that only seemed to bother her. Hell, she seemed more pissed at me for not wanting to let her stay in Savanaclaw while she dealt with the octopunk then she was at me for overbloting. She would entertain Grim, Cheeka, and freshmen alike while they did every annoying thing they possibly could, but then lose her mind at Jamil just brushing by her in the hallway without saying a quick apology. 

I could never tell what she was going to do next. I would find myself observing her whenever she came near, making a game out of trying and failing to predict her choices. I would guess she was getting a sandwich for lunch only to get the fish platter and give it to Grim. I would think she came to the library to read or research only to find her pulling out a pen to work on a paper for class. I couldn’t understand her. 

Once again, it was time to play the game. I had hidden in a large tree near mainstreet to sleep, using the people below as some sorta white noise. However, (Yuu) had entered the picture, keeping me awake. The statues had gotten dirty as migration had caused flocks of birds to pass over campus during the changing seasons, leading the headmaster to commission his little errand-runner to clean them. 

She was working on the King of Beasts' statue when I noticed that a group of sophomores had stopped to talk and loiter on the side of the street. I didn’t even notice them at first, but they kept raising their voices to force everyone around to listen.

“Maybe people wouldn’t hate her so much if she wasn’t such a bitch,” the leader of the imbeciles spat, pointing the words at (Yuu), “Maybe then she’d have someone who wants to keep her around.”

“Maybe,” another boy took (Yuu)’s lack of response as a go ahead to keep pushing, “she needs someone to put her in her place.”

The leader wasn’t even trying to hide his smirk. I couldn’t even hear what he was saying properly anymore. My head was racing. As the insults kept hurling towards her, I kept watching for a reaction. Nothing. It’s like she wasn’t even hearing them. 

On the one hand, I knew she could handle herself. Seven knows she can dish out even more than she takes. Plus, she’s dealt with more overblots than anyone with nothing more than her own physical ability to keep her safe. I knew that she could send those cocky assholes to the dirt if she really wanted to. But she didn’t. I kept waiting. 

“I would understand her ego if she wasn't such an ugly prude,” One of the boys snickered, “You would think she’d want to show off the only ‘nice’ thing about her, but she always covers up those long legs of hers.”

She ignored them again, climbing onto the statue base to get bird poop off the mane. They kept getting louder and it was starting to piss me off. They made comments that were more and more specific and vile. I knew she could handle herself, but I also knew that I could handle it. I started to run out of patience. 

“And what is with those freshmen she hangs out with?”

I finally saw her react. It was small and subtle enough to where I don’t even think the assholes saw it. But she froze for a second. I could almost see her switch from ignoring them completely to analyzing everything by the second.

“They are so stupid! I don’t think a single one of them is going to pass their classes,” the boy rolled his eyes, “Plus those guys are weak as hell. I bet any one of us could beat the shit out of any of them while the bitch just watched.”

“Say that again?” (Yuu) had finished with the mane of the statue and was now leaning against it while towering over the sophomores, “I fear my ears may be fooling me.”

“He said,” The leader took over for his friend, approaching the statue in some attempt to look threatening, “that any one of us could beat the shit out of any of those dumbass freshmen while all you did was bitch and moan about it while sobbing your eyes out.”

“Cool,” She jumped down from the statue, leaving the cleaning supplies on the base, “So now that you’ve gotten your delusions out of your system, you can start preparing for the consequences of running that shithole you call a mouth.”

“Oh really?” He got in her face, I was almost out of patience, “And what consequences are those? You getting on your knees to beg for mercy on behalf of your little boy toys?”

“Nope.”

She socked him in the face. It was a perfect attack. A clean hit to the jaw before driving her knee into his crotch. She moved back as the friends went in to make their own attacks. I actually recognized the tactics she used as she quickly dodged and hit the others. They had been the same techniques I had taught at the Bead Brawl tournament.

Soon all of them were hauling their sorry asses to the infirmary. I knew she wouldn’t get in trouble because idiots like those wouldn’t admit they got their ass handed to them by a magicless girl. 

She just moved on to start cleaning the next statue. It was like nothing had happened.

I was in one of the trees in the courtyard, once again trying to sleep while Ruggie was in PE. (Yuu) entered the courtyard in her own PE uniform, probably at a break in her schedule after her own flying class. She sat at the fountain and began reading some history book. I didn’t recognize it from Trein’s class, so I assumed it was one of her ‘fun’ reads. 

I could see a pair of Savanaclaw freshmen at a table near the fountain, and I could see them talking in hushed voices. If I had been anyone else I wouldn’t have heard them, but being me, I did.

One of the students was a jackal beastmen, “I still can’t believe that lazy prick is King Falena’s brother. I’m so glad there's no chance he’ll be king. He’d run the country into the ground.”

“Dude,” One of the other student’s joined in the conversation, “You didn’t even see his meltdown. The dude almost disintegrated Ruggie with that terrifying spell of his. He must be real fucking stupid to try and kill the one person who puts up with his lazy ass.”

I watched as (Yuu) slammed her book closed, not bothering to mark her place, “Could you twats shut your traps?”

 “Excuse me?” The second boy looked at her with disgust and confusion, “We’re having a private conversation.”

“Yeah,” She stood, “Loud enough for anyone in the school to hear. Plus, what your saying is bullshit. I’m not letting bullshit interrupt my reading during my half-an-hour of peace, solitude, and quiet.”

The beastman stood, trying to use his size to get her to back down, “Look, I’m just expressing an opinion. Why do you even care? It’s not like he’s ever done anything for you. He’s just lazy.”

“And that’s how I know you’re just imbeciles who don’t know anything other than what you’ve been told to believe,” She stared him in the eye and showed no signs of backing down, “What exactly do you expect from him? Do you expect perfection without praise? Perfection without any hope for something to come out of it? Do you expect him to make plan after plan to improve everything for everyone else only to get shot down because it’s his idea and not someone else's or because it hasn’t been done before? Do you expect him to try and improve the lives of the people who are figuratively slapping him in the face on the regular? Try to be productive while being ignored, constantly overshadowed, and being put down by everyone around you. After you do that, then you can shoot the shit all you want and I won’t complain.”

“Why are you being so defensive about this?” The other student interjected, “You of all people should know how destructive he is. You’re the one who dealt with his overblot.”

“Exactly,” She smiled a wicked smile that sent a chill through me, “I dealt with it. You cried in the corner. It’s not that he’s scary. You’re just a coward. Plus, it is rich of you to call him lazy or stupid when you are completely aware of his little scheme to win the spelldrive tournament. The plan was actually well thought out and took a good deal of effort. The only folly was that he underestimated me. And Seven knows that he never made that mistake again. He’s constantly aware of every factor he can’t predict. That takes intelligence and diligence. Now will you please give me my…” she checked a pocket watch that someone must have given her at some point, “twenty three remaining minutes of peace, solitude, and quiet?”

The freshmen were silent. The jackal-boy sat back down. An odd emotion swirled inside of me. She seemed to somewhat get it. Everything she had said about me was at least a thought that had crossed my mind at one point or another. Sure it wasn’t everything, and it wasn’t like she knew everything. However, it was odd that she could read that much of me. Especially since I thought her head was too far up her ass to see others so intimately, let alone me.

She sat back down at the fountain and the freshmen left the courtyard. Part of me hoped she would look in my direction. Show some kinda sign that she only said those things or intervened because she knew I was watching. Some part of me thought that would make it seem less personal. Make it feel like she was doing it with some ulterior motive of gaining my favor or getting me to ‘owe’ her. But she didn’t.

She just sat down and began reading again. 

She was strange.

She could handle herself. I knew that. I had seen that first hand. She could fight or outwit any of the other herbivores. But I could never understand her. 

I don’t even know what possessed me to take the bus into town. An odd craving for this one sandwich made by a local business that refuses to deliver and an absent Ruggie maybe. 

(Yuu) was also on the bus. I found myself almost following her when she got off. She had a bag with some books in it, so I assumed she was trading them in at that one bookstore full of used literature. I told myself that I was just going the same direction as her because the two businesses were near one another, but part of me knew it was just to see what she would do.

She turned the corner and ran smack into a man that was all but blocking the entrance to the bookstore. 

“Pardon me,” She didn’t smile as she moved to walk past the man.

“Hey,” Even from the distance I had put between her and myself, I could smell that the man reeked of booze. He hiccuped, “What’s the rush pretty lady? Got a hot date or something?”

“No,” She kept a neutral expression, “Just errands and a limited time to do them.”

He stopped her from moving past him, “Well then why don’t you stay a while? Pretty thing like you shouldn’t be all alone. Plus,” I could see him scan her form, “I’m sure I could find something good to entertain both of us.”

I wanted to rip his head off. He was being annoying and (Yuu) at least deserved some assistance after she went out of her way to defend me. However, I knew she could handle herself. I waited and watched for her to do something. For her to punch and kick, knocking him to the ground like those asshole sophomores. For her to talk him into the grave and bathe him in shame like she had with the freshmen. But it was nothing. She let him keep going.

“Why aren’t you smiling? Beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be frowning,” He put his arm against the wall, keeping her in place, “Come on sexy, smile for me.”

Why wasn’t she doing anything? I know she didn’t typically do what I would think she would do in any given situation, but to do nothing? What in the name of the seven was going on in her head? 

I didn’t even notice I wandered closer until (Yuu) and I made eye contact. I had never seen that look in her eyes. It wasn’t exactly fear or numbness, but an odd mix of the two. As if she had completely disassociated but some small part of her was screaming for help. I didn’t even think she realized that it was my eyes she was looking into. She only knew that it was someone who could possibly help. 

She could handle herself. But not right now.

“Hey,” I found myself gripping onto the man’s shoulder, “Leave.”

“Excuse me?” He swayed as he turned to try and confront me.

“You’re drunk, not deaf,” I nearly growled, “I told you to leave.”

“What’s your deal?” He seemed even more drunk close up, “It’s none of your business. I’m just talking to a pretty lady. What happened to being a bro and not cockblocking a perfect stranger?”

Sevens the bastard was drunk off his ass. 

“Leave before I tear your fucking head off,” I grinned to show off my teeth, “Or don’t. I don’t mind catching a charge.”

The man put his hands up in surrender, “Whatever dick cheese. A guy can’t shoot his shot with a sexy lady anymore? Sevens!” 

I didn’t take my eyes off him until he completely disappeared into the streets. I just hoped someone called the police on his ass for public intoxication or some shit.

“Leona?” (Yuu) finally spoke again, the look in her eyes replaced by her normal neutral or annoyed tone, “What are you doing here?”

“Getting a sandwich,” I put my hands in my pockets, “What else?”

She sighed, “Can we just not talk about what just happened? It’s a pain in the ass.”

I tried not to smile, “Yeah. It sure is.”

I went with her to the bookstore and she followed me to the sandwich place. The day was filled with a comfortable silence, only broken by random comments that never really led to a full conversion. It was nice. Plus, I no longer felt like I needed to pay her back for her defending me to those freshmen. It was a win-win situation. 

It still didn’t stop me from thinking about it. She had no trouble standing up to people at school for talking shit about me and her freshman. However, she seemed to completely shut down when it was about her. I didn’t get it.

She sat next to me on the bus as the sun set. She laid her head back on the seat and I could see the moment that she fell asleep. It was oddly peaceful. 

… 

I had a hard time understanding the Ramshackle prefect.

[konjiang]

Cumplane Library au

Sy was in the Library studying when he saw that PIDW just had a new update, he almost couldn't contain himself and started fuming from anger. Thankful no one else beside the library staff was here right now.

He quickly craft up the most vile and disrespectful review post, and hit send before anyone else even left a comment. Some may say his dedication to hating on Airplane was obsessive and unhealthy, but his hands shake with fury every time he read a new chapter. If he didn't do something, he would probably get sick from the repressed feeling.

After spurring out all his hatred towards Airplane in the post, he resumed studying for his class. Right when he was about to put in his earbuds and to start playing some lofi, he heard a quiet chuckle from behind him. The quiet library staff was staring at him and trying to hide his laughter.

The burning in his face was sure to set the library on fire with how hot he felt. He couldn't believe that someone witness him in his lowest form. He quickly got up and packed his laptop away, planning on dying from embarrassment in the safety of his room.

'This is all that fucking dumb hack author's fault!' He practically ran to the door, but the door wouldn't open now matter how he pulled or pushed. He had no choice to turn around and pretend like nothing happened.

He tried to nonchalantly go back to his seat, but a pair of brown eyes followed his movement. When he crossed over the front desk, the guy abruptly stand up and smiled at him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh at you like that. It was that you were so funny getting mad at the novel you were reading." He had brown curly hair, dimples on both side of his face, a ponytail, and a innocent looking face. Sy thought that this guy looked exactly like what he thought LBH looked like.

"That door is currently shut because of construction. A lot of people have been trying to open it all day, but they never read the sign I put up." the LBH lookalike sighed, and SY turned his head and saw that there was indeed a piece of paper tape to the door, but in his flustered state, he couldn't bother to read it.

"Oh. Thanks..." Sy mumbled out, this day was getting worse by the second.

"What were you reading?" the innocent looking guy asked. Sy couldn't tell him, he couldn't be the one to ruin this guy's innocent.

"Just some webnovel." SY deflected, wanting this conversation to end already.

"Oh really?" They guy bounced a bit as he leaned forward causing his ponytail to sway slightly, "I like web novels too, which one were you reading?" SY stared at the guy's doe eyes, noting that he was definitely not as tall as LBH, since he was shorter than SY.

'He would look great cosplaying white lotus LBH.' Sy thought, but he didn't want to entertain that idea at all because his brain kindly provided him with all the sex scenes from varies chapters of PIDW.

"It's not really popular, so I don't think you'll like it." Sy stood there in agony when the cute guy looked at him disappointedly.

"Oh...okay. Sorry for bothering you."

'Fuck! Why can't god just strike me down right now.' Sy impulsively ripped out a piece of paper from his binder and wrote down his number.

"Here, I can recommend you some better novel. Just text me your preferences." Sy said coldly, trying to regain his composure.

"Really? Thank you!" The guy excitedly whispered as a group of student walked in. Sy took this chance to blend in with the crowd and leave when the guy was preoccupied with others.

'Ah fuck. If I ever met that dumbass author. I'm beating the shit out of him.'

--

As a university library worker, he seen a lot of things throughout his shifts. But he would never expect to find Peerless Cucumber reading the latest chapter in the library. Is it shame on him for posting it when he was working or shame on Cucumber for reading it in a public place.

He type in the phone number and saved it in his phone. His shift was about to end and he could fully plan out how to mess with Cucumber afterwards.

"Luo Binghe, you're free to go."

"Thanks" Luo Binghe, or more infamously known as Airplane, skipped out of the library while humming to himself.

[malevoreenthusiast]

Parasocial Predator

Hey all! Had this idea earlier and quickly wrote this out. The celebrity I used is Alec Benjamin (a pop artist you should definitely check out), but they’re really interchangeable with any other celebrity. As always, send any requests you may have and let me know how I can improve! Enjoy.

The first thing I need to get out of the way is that in no way is this a parasocial relationship. Alec knows who I am: he’s liked my comments on his posts, I met him at a meet and greet once, and he’s seen me drive through his neighborhood a couple of times when I make sure he stays safe. One time, Alec even responded to one of my comments on Instagram with, “I love you, thanks for the support!” which validates that, in fact, this is a very real relationship that Alec and I have forged over the past several years. He knows who I am—his number one fan—and I know he loves me. Unfortunately, as a celebrity, he can’t show that, so that brings us to today. My plan, which will go off without a hitch, is to meet Alec in his tour bus in order to charm him and finally get together with him.

I’ve followed him on tour, eventually picking out his tour buses on the road and the one in which he stayed after several weeks. It was early afternoon, and he was supposed to perform tonight at a sold out show. He was such a rockstar. That’ll be the second thing I do: congratulate him for being so great. First though, I wanted to ask which of his songs I’ve inspired because I can think of at least ten. He really is such a charmer. A huge portion of the fanbase doesn’t deserve to listen to him and how great he is, which is really unfortunate because Alec is too nice to tell them otherwise. Still, I’ve got a plan to sweep him off his feet and have us be together forever.

I waited quietly in the back of the bus. Alec and his team had stopped at a rest stop somewhere off a highway to go to the bathroom and get snacks and stretch their legs before finishing the journey. This absence from the bus meant that I could easily sneak on when nobody was looking. Honestly, I think Alec knew I would be coming because he left his sweatshirt for me on the seat of the bus. I put it on and took a deep whiff, smelling him so purely that I sighed in deep, deep pleasure. I got lost in his scent so much that I didn’t even notice Alec get back on the bus before anyone else.

“Who are you?” he asked, uncertainty in his voice. I knew he was cheeky, but playing this hard to get so early? Come on, sweetie, you can do better than that!

“Alec!” I bellowed and raced towards him in a hug. “It’s good to see you, gosh, you look so much better in person up-close,” I brushed his hair back and held him close to me. He gave me a wide-eyed look, probably in shock because he didn’t expect to meet me so soon. I get it, though, and I wasn’t going to hold it against him. I would be at a loss for words too if I had suddenly met the love of my life on the tour bus.

I positioned myself at the entrance to the bus so nobody could get in and come between us. Alec’s eyes shifted out the curtained windows, most likely making sure that nobody would see us in this illicit relationship. All of Alec’s trashy fans would probably get too jealous, so it only makes sense that he would make sure that no one else was around who could witness this. The next thing he did was somewhat confusing, but he brought out his phone and dialed a number. I could see he was shaking a little, and my fierce protectiveness for Alec kicked in. I strode up quickly to my beloved and snatched the phone out of his hand. He was calling his security (probably to make sure no one attacked us while we were in here), and he was scared as a lamb! 

“Oh, Alec,” I hugged him tight, smelling him more closely now, “it’s okay, let me take care of you. Here, I have just the thing.”

Now, before I tell you what I was about to do, let me explain myself. Alec is an amazing singer/songwriter, and the world doesn’t appreciate him as well as I do. Alec is also on the smaller side, so many dangerous things could hurt him and impact his ability to do what he most loves after me: music. To this end, I thought: “what better way to protect my love than keep him close to me at all times?” So, on that thought, I kissed him softly on the mouth and stretched my jaw over and around his head. He instantly started wildly thrashing, probably because my baby was excited to be in my stomach. I gulped heavily, bunching his shoulders up and sending them down my gullet. I could feel him yell with what I assumed was pleasure and excitement at being in his new boyfriend’s belly. My saliva soaked through his clothes, as admittedly, I had been wanting to do this for several years now, ever since I first saw him in concert. Now that my dreams had come true and he wanted to be in a relationship with me, I could finally do this! I swallowed again, sending Alec’s small torso down into my mouth. He really wasn’t that big (which is why he needed someone larger than him—me—to protect him), but he fit perfectly in my gut. I could already feel his head and shoulders spill into my stomach chamber, which felt really nice. Alec was wriggling already from the inside of my gut, unable to keep his excitement in, most likely. I choked down more of him quickly, as the position he was in was probably making some blood rush towards his head, and I was not going to facilitate any misfortune upon my sweet angel of a boyfriend. Slurping up his legs like noodles, I took off Alec’s shoes and gulped the rest of the singer into my stomach. It ballooned out heavily, but my six pack was something I was more than okay with parting with if it meant I got to be next to Alec at all times of the day. Alec’s sweatshirt clung on to my chest, but my belly was now far too big to be contained by the piece of clothing. Still, I wore it happily, knowing it was a gift from Alec.

“What are you doing?” Alec shouted from inside. “Let me go! Please!” 

I rubbed my belly and wore a pained expression. My sweet angel didn’t realize that this was for the best for him right now. Even though Alec was squirming around, making the heft of my gut sway and wobble slightly, I couldn’t help but notice how wonderfully he looked attached to my middle. Though, all of his movements were kicking up a lot of gas.

BBBUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPP “---Sweetheart, please,” I chided. “Calm down in there. Let’s get you back home, okay?”

Some of you may believe that moving in together this soon is a little crazy, and to that I’d simply tell you that you don’t understand the bond Alec and I share. We’re (quite literally) inseparable. I got back into my car that I used to follow him on the road, and, somewhat uncomfortably, I maneuvered around my seat until my belly wasn't pressing up against the steering wheel. This would probably have to be how I drove from now on, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Love is full of sacrifices, you know. I spoke to Alec softly on the way home, asking him about his life so far, childhood memories, and all of the mundane, beautiful things about living. He seemed reluctant to answer, but I chalked that up to him being tired from a long day. Now that he was in my warm, comforting belly though, he would be able to rest peacefully and sleep as much as he wanted. 

Along the drive home, I bought some McDonalds, which wasn’t the healthiest for my baby, but on the road, you make do. I swallowed a few of the burgers whole, wrapper and all so Alec could have some dinner in his own tummy while I had mine already in there. Thinking about it now, it would be a little uncomfortable for Alec to be with me while I digested my other food (that’s what happened with my old roommate. He didn’t want Alec living with us, so he had to go), but again, love requires sacrifices. My belly was really noisy with the sounds of gurgling and churning, but I knew Alec wouldn’t digest. Still, that didn’t mean my belly didn’t want to assimilate him into my body. He was simply too important to digest, though. An idle hand rubbed my boyfriend-filled belly for the rest of the night-ride home with pure love and affection.

Getting back to my apartment, I undressed and flopped onto bed with Alec. The movement jostled my stomach heavily, waking him back up. I think he was having a bad dream about being captive and kidnapped, which frightened me tremendously, but that is precisely why Alec is safer in my stomach than the real world. People are crazy out there, and it could’ve easily happened to Alec. I rubbed my belly soothingly and told him time and time again that this was where he belonged, that I would treat him right, and no harm would come to him. Eventually, I drifted off to sleep, kissing my own belly and looking forward to Alec and I’s new life together.

[thefrontmanscockwarmer]

My Best Friend’s Brother (Part 5)

Player 001 x reader

Masterlist <- comment on this post to be added to the tag list

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

You, Jun Ho, and In Ho walked to your apartment, grabbing clothes, your favorite throw blanket, and stuff for your cat.

“Why do you need so much shit?” In Ho, who seemingly had something to say all the time, spoke. He rolled your suitcase.

“She’s gonna be staying with us all month, dim wit” Jun Ho replied.

“Well that’s stupid. Don’t touch my shit while I’m at work.”

“Our room, our stuff” you said cheekily before you shot a look at him.

“No. My room, my stuff” he said.

“Wellllll I am staying there for a whi-“

“Whatever. Don’t touch my shit.”

“She touched your shit yesterday…” Jun Ho said.

“I dont give a fuck, i gave her permission to touch my shit.” In Ho snapped back. “Now, im telling her not to touch my shit when I’m not home”

“I don’t want touch shit at all”

“You literally scoop cat shit” Jun Ho says. In Ho snickered.

“Good one” he gave a fist bump.

“Can we stop talking about shit?!” You ask heatedly. The boys shut their mouths before In Ho whispered:

“Someone’s losing her shit.” Jun Ho laughed loudly, In Ho following suit.

“Seriously, In Ho? You’re literally older than us, get your shit together” they both snorted before laughing even louder. Making you laugh too.

Jun Ho left almost as soon as you guys arrived to the house.

In Ho pushed you against the door, barricading it shut. Breathing heavily in your ear, his cock leaking in his pants.

“I’ve been wanting to get ahold of you since you got out of bed this morning.” He growled in your ear. “I shouldn’t have let you go”

“No, you shouldn’t have” you reply, helping him out of his pants. You dropped to your knees. In Ho pulled your hair up, as you licked his tip. The feeling making him throw his head back, a low grumble from his chest accompanying it. You took his length, putting his cock deep in your throat. In Ho grunted primally as he pushed his cock in deeper. Forcing your head to hit the door. He pinned your hair up, thrusting into your mouth.

“Oh god, (y/n), why does your mouth feel so fucking good?” He coaxed in a low tone, fucking your throat. “I almost want to cum right now, fuck” the foreign feeling of his cock in your mouth was a long awaited day dream, you began to gag and choke on his thick member. The vibrations sending him into overdrive. He sped up, chasing his orgasm now, continuing his brutal assault on your throat. He braced his hand against the door, his hips stuttered. His body tense and convulsion with every thrust into your mouth. A low grumble”oh god” was uttered in the most sinful groan as he released cum down your throat. Thrusting slower now to fully empty himself inside you before putting himself back in his jeans.

“Your cum tastes almost like whiskey” you giggle.

“Well, according to last night… you really fucking like whiskey” he said. Your watery eyes looked up at him. “Ready to go pick out a new mattress your-annoyingness” he joked. You slapped his shoulder as you stood.

“Shut up.” You squint at him.

“Sorry” he kept laughing. “Mom, tell your son to stop laughing at me” you said as you walk into the kitchen.

“I would but, I haven’t heard him laugh this hard since he was younger.” She giggled lightly.

“Where Mr. Hwang?” You ask. “we might need his help.”

“He’s out betting on the horse races. Just have them deliver it to the house, the boys can do all of that.”

“Okay.” You shrug. You hear a loud groan as your cat emerges from In Ho’s room.

“Come back! I wanted more cuddles!!” He shouts chasing after the animal.

“Awww he’s so precious!” Mrs. Hwang exclaims. “What’s his name?”

“Wiseuki” you say aloud. The cat rubs against her legs as she repeats his name, looking at you knowing why you named him that… after her whiskey drinking son.

“Come on (y/n), let’s go pick that mattress” In Ho says pushing you out the door.

As soon as you entered the mattress store, he threw himself onto a bed. Immediate disgust etching on his face. You could tell this was going to be a long trip.

Taglist

@christinamadsen @sebbymybaby21 @nakiio5775 @xcinnamonmalfoyx @player279achlys @watasinekoru @galaxygurlll @angelofthorr @whamzou

[uceyliyahh]

CALL UP

summary: “Who you gon' run to when I'm gone?” Sianni went to the club with her friends completely ignoring Jey’s text messages showing out in front of her friends why? Bc she’s single ofc until he pulls up and puts her in her place.

warnings: toxic ex-boyfriend, unprotected sex, choking, daddy kink, dominance, cream-pie, baby doll, mama, toxic cycle, hair pulling, fluff at the end :)

word count: 3977

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

again mdni you have been warned.

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign @ctinadiva @duhitzkay380 @luuvprincess

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic

@celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @luvrsluxe @4milly @xbriexx @trippinsorrows @yyaktayak @yana3sworld @theusotwinzcom @lilucey @raya-hunter01

Sianni

I was excitedly preparing to hit the club with my friends Bianca and Trinity, finally free from the toxic grip of Jey. It felt liberating to know I could do whatever I wanted. We had been stuck in a harmful cycle for far too long. Every time I confronted him about his questionable behavior, he would dismiss my concerns and label me as delusional for trusting what I saw online.

This time, things took a turn for the worse; it was one of the most intense arguments we’ve ever had in our relationship. I had come across a video of him at a club, where a girl was all over him while he chatted with someone else. At first, I brushed it off, but then I received a text from her, complete with screenshots and photos of them together. That shattered me, and in that moment, I realized our time together was coming to an end.

When he returned home from his tour, I confronted him about the situation. Instead of owning up to it, he started denying everything, claiming she was lying and that the screenshots and photos were fabricated. I couldn't believe it and rolled my eyes, refusing to entertain his nonsense any longer. It became clear to me that I needed to end things for good. I was tired of his manipulation and the way he made me feel like I was losing my mind over something he had actually done.

In the present moment, he has been bombarding me with messages and calls, but I refuse to engage. I won’t be fooled by his games again. I applied some lip gloss, rubbing my lips together to create that perfect “pop.” Just then, I heard a car honking outside. When I glanced out the window, I spotted Bianca and Trin arriving.

As I reached for my purse and keys, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, alerting me to another text message from Jey.

Stink💔 sent a message

Stink💔: Ayo Sianni yo’ ass better stop playing with me and come tf home yk them pictures were fake.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his message. He knows those screenshots and photos are genuine; he's just frustrated that he got caught once more. I'm exhausted from going around in circles with him on this issue, so I decided to send him a quick message before putting my phone away in my purse.

Mamas🩷: Jey leave me tf alone aight? You know them screenshots and photos of yall two together are real asf clear as day as a matter of fact I am single and I can do whatever I want so why don’t you go back to that hoe you was fucking and leave me alone.

Upon sending him that message, my phone buzzed once more, prompting a deep sigh as I noticed his reply appear on the screen.

Stink💔: single? Tuh girl yo’ ass is funny keep fucking with me yo’ ass better not be at the club tonight tell Trin and Bianca to drop you off over here now

Could he really be serious? I'm done with these mind games; he made his choice to cheat on me with someone from his own workplace.

Mamas🩷: Joshua you fucking heard me nigga I’m not repeating myself and I’m goin’ to the club either way because I’m fucking single 🙄

I stepped outside, securing the door behind me, and made my way to Bianca’s car. As I approached, she lowered the window, poked her head out, and waved enthusiastically at me.

“Heyyy girly you ready to get turnt up tonight!” Bianca exclaimed.

“Hell yeah! I needed this for real and Trin tell Jey to leave me alone please,” I said as I got in the backseat of Bianca’s car.

Trinity raised her hands, clearly wanting to distance herself from the chaos between me and her brother-in-law. "You need to sort that out with him," she advised, and I nodded in agreement, feeling my phone vibrating in my purse.

When I checked my phone, I saw three missed calls from him, and he was clearly losing it. On top of that, there were three messages waiting for me that completely took me by surprise.

three missed calls from Stink💔

Stink💔: bring yo’ ass home Sianni I’m not fucking playing with yo’ ass

Stink💔: I will pull up in the bitch a snatch yo’ little ass up and you won’t be having no type of fucking fun

Stink💔: acting fucking stupid for no fucking reason better not be shaking no ass you tryna be hoe huh?

Was it bad that I love this shit from him? Him being all aggressive and upset at me for breaking up with him and then heading to the club to act out? Yes it was toxic but did I care? Not really.

Mamas🩷: Joshua I don’t give a flying fuck what’chu yapping about my nigga all of this would’ve been avoided if you would’ve just said yes that you fucked her that’s all but no you want to be innocent and be fucking stupid.

Stink💔: Don’t fucking disrespect me Sianni I will fix all of that shit in a heartbeat and I told you none of them screenshots were real but you wanna listen to Jaida huh? You barely know her.

Mamas🩷: MAYBE she didn’t want me to look more stupid than I already do so how about you go fuck her Jey and leave me alone I told you I’m done

Stink💔: see there you go again being fucking stupid it’s okay I got something for that ass when I come snatch yo’ ass up keep on Sianni

Mamas🩷: I’m not goin back and forth with you nigga goodbye 🖕🏾

I tucked my phone away into my purse, letting out a deep sigh as I gazed out the window at the stars and the moon illuminating the night sky, hoping fervently that he wouldn’t arrive.

Bianca shouted above the pulsating beats of the club, "You two really need to mature! How much longer are you going to drag this out?"

"I genuinely care for him, but every time we seem to be in a good place, things take a turn for the worse when he starts acting sneaky." It’s incredibly frustrating. I decided to ignore his call and put my phone on do not disturb because I just couldn’t handle his drama tonight.

He could have simply admitted that he cheated on me during the times we were apart, especially since our long-distance relationship made it difficult to connect. I understood that being apart would be challenging, but this situation felt far worse than anything I had experienced before. Even when I reached out to him, his responses were often delayed, sometimes not coming until the afternoon. I tried to be patient and not pressure him about it, but everything changed when that girl, Jaida, sent me those screenshots and pictures of them together. It shattered me completely.

Addressing him about this issue or any other concerns I picked up from people online would lead him to dismiss everything as merely “work related.” I found that hard to accept and called him out on it, which only sparked intense arguments. He would manipulate the situation, leaving me in tears and forcing me to apologize. It was a relentless, toxic cycle that I was utterly exhausted by.

I longed for open communication and the reassurance I needed, but he never provided that. I reached my breaking point.

"All my single ladies, it's your time to shine!" The DJ called out into the mic, setting the stage for an electrifying moment as he seamlessly transitioned the music to TGIF by GloRilla.

Going to the club isn't about shedding tears over a guy who doesn't appreciate you or your feelings. It's about hitting the dance floor with your friends, letting loose, and enjoying life to the fullest. Embrace the night, forget your worries, and make unforgettable memories with your girls.

"Let’s have an unforgettable night and leave all our worries behind! I’m excited to be with you, my girls, since we don’t get to hang out nearly enough." With that, I downed a shot of Hennessy and made my way to the dance floor, ready to let loose.

I started dancing freely, not caring who was watching or what they thought. All that mattered was enjoying myself and letting go of the pain Jey had caused me. I was tired of the stress he brought into my life, and I was ready to embrace a good time without worrying about our relationship.

Bianca was clearly putting on a show for Trinity, and I couldn't help but laugh at their antics. Suddenly, I felt two hands gripping my hips, pulling me onto their lap. I playfully backed up against the guy behind me, moving my hips in a circular motion as I ground against him. I could sense his excitement, even though he knew he wouldn't be getting anything from me.

He explored every inch of my body, tracing my curves with his hands, his grip tightening around my throat as the alluring scent of Jack Daniel’s enveloped us.

“You cute as hell babygirl. You tryna head to the back? Got all of this ass on me.”

“Nah. you can get yo' hands off my girl."

I stood frozen, my heart racing as that deep, raspy voice echoed from behind me. I watched in shock as the guy was grabbed from behind, prompting me to spin around instantly. There on the ground lay the man, unconscious, after Jey had delivered a powerful punch to his face.

Fuck. I just knew he was going to make an appearance. Just to do something like this when he doesn’t get his way.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Like honestly?” I shouted as I shoved him away.

“I told yo’ ass sianni I fucking told you now grab yo’ shit and head towards the car don’t make me repeat myself. Got me fucked up.” He shouted while I remained there, arms crossed and unyielding.

He swept me off my feet, hoisting me onto his shoulders as he snatched my purse and phone. His gaze flicked between Bianca, Trinity, and the guy groaning on the ground.

"I had no idea she was your girlfriend; it seemed like she was ready to let loose."

Jey released me momentarily, seizing the man by the edge of his shirt and delivering another punch to ensure he stayed unconscious. Then, without hesitation, he hoisted me back onto his shoulders, even as I struggled to break free.

I was thrashing and wriggling like a child, playfully hitting him on the back, until a swift smack on my backside made me pause and reconsider my actions.

“This what I have to deal with? When yo’ ass could’ve just came home like the fuck I said but no you wanted to show you fucking ass tonight!” He shouted as he released me, forcing me down against his car and holding me firmly in position.

"If you weren't such a blatant hypocrite and a liar, I wouldn't have to deal with this situation, Joshua! A little honesty from you would have gone a long way! I'm so frustrated with you! While I'm at home waiting for you, you’re out entertaining other women at work, making me feel like a fool! " All this anger and resentment I have towards you stems from your actions, and it has left me feeling utterly worthless.

“Lower your fucking tone when you speak to me Sianni and I fucking told you it was work related nothing more!”

"It's hard to believe that entertaining other women and being intimate with them is considered part of the job. I don't see Jimmy or Montez treating Trin and Bianca that way, so what's your excuse now? Try to come up with something more original, or better yet, just be honest you fucking asshole." I couldn't help but roll my eyes at him, struggling to maintain my composure as tears threatened to spill down my cheeks.

“The fuck you just, you know what I’m not dealing with this shit tonight. Get in the fucking car.”

I’m not going anywhere with you, Joshua. I’m heading back into the club with Trin and Bianca. I can’t stand you; I absolutely despise you, Joshua. My feelings for you are nothing but hatred.

“Get in the fucking car Sianni. You starting to piss me the fuck off with all of this stupid shit you doing tonight. Jey swung open the passenger door of his car, casting a scrutinizing glance in my direction. “Get yo’ ass in the mother-fucking car Sianni I’m not playing with you and you aren’t going nowhere yo’ ass can say how much you hate me all you want but I know yo’ ass ain’t leaving me.”

“Ouuu! Fuck!” I grunted feeling my face being smudge into the bed sheets as he pummeled me from the back.

“This is what you wanted right? Showing yo’ fucking ass tonight so take this dick like a good girl for me mama,” When Jey exhaled, he gave me the one-leg-up, one-leg-down combination, which gave him more leverage to drag my ass back. “throw that ass back in circles for me baby doll,”

I was completely bewildered by what he was demanding from me, especially with the harsh blows he was delivering at that moment. When I failed to heed his words, his hand came down forcefully, striking me while he seized my hair, forcing me to meet his gaze. “the fuck did I just say? throw yo’ ass back in circles like you did at the club being a hoe,” Before I could hurl it back at him, his hand slammed down again.

“Mhmm, look at you. this is my fucking pussy you hear me? you had him thinking you was finna give him some tonight. was you gonna give it up baby doll?”

“Noooo…fuck..Jey…”

My pussy tightens gripping against him as his hand thuds my ass again.

“So fucking tight. you were going to give all of this away? something that belongs to me and only me? you’re fucking crazy,”

I couldn’t be angry at him or be upset at him while he as beating my insides in so roughly. My pussy was practically begging for that urge of release, I knew that this was going to happen this never-ending cycle of us arguing and then fucking I was tired of it but within each thrust he had given me he had to remind me that I was his and belong to him and nobody else. It was toxic very toxic but I would always fall for it because I love him and I would do anything for him but this time it felt different way different than before I was talking reckless to him and he once again showed me who was in control of this situation fucking me until my body felt numb.

The car ride was filled with harsh language and hurtful comments. Once we arrived home, I felt compelled to pack a suitcase. I was exhausted from this relentless cycle; it was mentally draining, and he seemed completely indifferent to my struggles. Deep down, I didn’t want to leave him, but I had reached my breaking point. It wasn’t my fault that I felt suspicious about his actions. I had no desire for revenge; that simply wasn’t who I was. After gathering some clothes, I made my way to the door, only to find him blocking my path and yanking the suitcase from my grasp.

“Yo’ ass ain’t leaving me Sianni. Get in the fucking room and wait for me in there. acting fucking reckless tonight I’m not having it.”

I rolled my eyes as he attempted to grab my suitcase, saying, “Joshua, I’m not playing this game anymore. I’ve made it clear that I’m completely finished with you. Go find someone else, like Jaida, and just leave me alone.”

“Why do you have do be so fucking stupid Sianni huh? she’s nobody to me. getcho ass in that fucking room don’t make me repeat myself,”

"No! Fuck that I'm no—" He silenced me by aggressively kissing my lips and driving his tongue down my throat as he carried me to our common bedroom. He threw me on the bed and tore off his clothing while ripping mine off, wasting hundreds of dollars. He then flipped me over and started hitting my wet cunt and not letting me to adjust to his size

“yo’ ass wanna be fucking stupid out here worrying about me doing this and that when I’m worried about you and only you,” He growled slamming into me deeply.

"W-wait! Jey! Oh fuckkk," I wailed as I pushed on his stomach, attempting to slow him down.

“Ain’t no fucking wait you wanted to act out tonight right? act out right now mama do it take this big ass dick,” he rammed deeply inside of my inner walls, showing off his dominance letting me know who’s running the show tonight.

As my yells reverberated off the wall, I could hear how wet my pussy was for him and only him feeling him digging his thumb inside of my second hole driving me insane as he continued to pummeled me to the oblivion.

“Fuckkkk!” The sensation made me cried out.

I knew that he was enjoying this breaking me into two pieces watching me crumbling underneath his touch knowing that I wasn’t leaving him.

Tonight was unlike any other; he was imparting a crucial lesson about the dangers of recklessness. Ironically, he was the one who had put me in this position. Perhaps I had gone too far, but he failed to grasp my perspective. I took the necessary actions, even if they didn't align with his way of thinking.

“Shit, this some good ass pussy mama. You were going to give it away baby doll?” He panted thrusting his hips deeper and deeper. “You ain’t leaving me mama. I won’t allow it after all the shit we been through I won’t.” He moaned out “saying you hate me but knowing damn well you love me way to damn much you taking this dick like a big girl just for daddy mama,”

“Ouuuu.” I cried out, a pit in my stomach telling me I was ready to cum. Within seconds of his dick and thumb digging into my asshole, I was going to make a mess on him and the sheets-damn so much of washing the sheets yet again.

“You finna cum huh? you think I’ll allow you to cum after putting on a show tonight?” He pulled my hair and removed his thumb to let me to stare up at him while grinding my body against his and whining as he rubbed my clit. “tell me something you belong to me? Hm? Is this my pussy?”

I had to say something to get him to let me cum, but I was so worn out and fatigued that I couldn't even understand or imagine the words coming out of my lips.

“you belong to me right? say it,”

“Yes I belong to you..” With a gentle croak, I threw my ass across his lap and chased his high.

“Un-un,” As he continued to hammer me, he put his hand around my throat to keep me near him. “show me how much you wanna cum, show me who you belong to,”

With greater force, I flung my ass back and spat my tongue out at him, opening my mouth wide so he could spit inside of it. He then tongued me down like no other, thrusting his dick deep inside of me.

“Tell me this is mine all mine, and tell daddy that your sorry for acting out tonight and I’ll let you cum baby doll,”

“Fuckkk! I’m sorry daddy! So sorry! It’s all yours I-I belong to you and only you! I-I cumming! Ouuu fuck I’m cumming!” Knowing that I was here to stay and that I wasn't going anywhere, that was all he wanted from me. My body fell onto the bed, and my thoughts went blank as I felt my body flail onto the covers like a dead body as my fluids poured out of me.

He struck me one final time as his warm seeds filled my inner walls to such a degree that I could see stars and felt ropes entering me one after the other.

After letting his dick spew out all of his nut that was gushing out the last of his sperm, he remained in that position for a minute before pulling away from me and flipping me onto my back as he watched my body tremble uncontrollably.

He tenderly brushed his lips across my skin, each gentle kiss designed to calm me, before leaning in to press a soft kiss on my lips. Then, he settled himself between my legs, resting his head against my chest.

“Did you actually mean that shit? That you hate me? Like actually hate me?”

“No, I didn’t mean it. I just wish you were more honest with me instead of denying it, it just felt like you didn’t care,”

“I do care though mama, I just don’t like to when you listen to other people on the net when you should be hearing it from me,”

I let out a heavy sigh, feeling utterly drained. "You know, you kept denying it over and over, which only made you seem more guilty, Joshua. So, I need you to be honest with me: did you cheat on me while you were on tour?"

The atmosphere in the room was thick with silence as he and I locked eyes. “I swear, I didn’t cheat on you while I was on tour. Jon and Montez can back me up on that. As for Jaida, I haven’t spoken to her since we ended things. Those were just old pictures and screenshots,” he said, realizing that my previous reactions were based on false evidence. “I could never betray you like that, mama. I love you too much, Sianni.”

“Then what about all of these times you didn’t answer my calls or text?”

“I was with the guys and got drunk so I couldn’t text you back really, look I’m sorry mama like for real though I’m sorry I want you and only you,”

Did I truly want to trust him this time? I was uncertain whether to approach Montez or Jon about the situation; they would likely just defend him regardless. Still, I simply didn’t have the energy to deal with it.

I weakly nodded in response to his smile, and I couldn't help but think that if looks could truly kill, he would be the one to end me. As we settled into bed, he pulled me close, his strong arms encircling my waist, creating a sense of safety and warmth.

“I love you Sianni,” Jey whispered as he placed a kiss on my neck.

“Mmmm, love you too,” I mumbled while drifting off to sleep.

Could he really be honest? He appeared sincere, yet my tendency to overthink casts doubt on his words. Ultimately, only time will reveal the truth.

-fin ❤️

A/n: ngl this ate down lol 😭🙂‍↕️

[suddencolds]

Hello! I'm not sure if you remember, I'm a Korean reader who left the comment for a few months ago. As I mentioned before, it was so hard finding any snz fic or any of this culture in my country. When I first joined the forum site and discovered your fics, I've really enjoyed reading all of your Yves& Vincent fics many times. Time has passed now, but they're still very special to me. Thank you for the amazing writings.

I drew a fan cartoon from the first episode(Erika's home party scene), and I would love to give this to you as a gift. It hasn't been long since I joined Tumblr, so I'm not sure if this is the right place of sending fan arts💦

+ ) Oh, and about my account... One of my friends knows my account, so it's not easy to reveal my fetish on my account if you wonder why it doesn't look like a fetish one ..😅 But I can say I'm truly into it

+) And I'm sorry if I made you feel pressured all of a sudden by this😢

Still, I'm really rooting for you from afar, thank you!

HELLOOOOOOOOOOOO?@!$?>!@>?@?>@$?>>?@$!?>$!>?

I ACTUALLY GASPED OPENING MY INBOX TO THIS???!?!??!?!??!?!??! 😭😭😭😭😭😭 I AM SO HONORED THAT YOU TOOK THE TIME TO DRAW THEM????? IT'S SO COOL GETTING TO SEE THIS SCENE IN A VISUAL COMIC FORMAT 🥹❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ THANK YOU SO MUCH???????

going to add more screaming under the cut because man do I have so many things to say

I am really happy you chose this scene (from Fool Me Twice pt. 3) to draw; it's actually one of my personal favorites :') your Vincent is SO CUTE 😭 He's so outwardly nonchalant about all of this (but the slight flush to his cheeks is getting me 🤭 Right after he says 'She'll probably be expecting us to kiss' too???? I love the implication that he is perhaps less composed about all of this than he appears to be 😊‼️)

THE FACT THAT VINCENT CUPS YVES'S JAW TO KISS HIM??? AND THE WAY YVES CLOSES HIS EYES INTO THE KISS??? I really love how you drew all the tension and uncertainty leading up to that point... but then when they kiss it just feels so natural 😭 I also love the way you framed this... the balcony railing and the atmosphere of having the fireworks in the background go off when the countdown ends 😭!!! And the framing shot of the party inside... I am still so in awe that you made an entire comic of the scene?????? I feel so honored??????

ALSO YVES 😭😭😭 the intimacy of seeing it drawn and seeing him snz in such close proximity to Vincent is genuinely setting me on fire 😭 aLSO THE WAY HE TURNS AWAY SO QUICKLY AND COVERS HIS WHOLE FACE WITH HIS HAND??? 😳😵‍💫 The frame where his hand lingers over his face as he sniffles is sooo cute... he looks so embarrassed and apologetic 🥹❤️ I am so normal about this (I am not normal at all)

Vincent's "You don't have to worry about that :)" is making me giggle too 😭 Also I am in love with how you drew both their hair?? I want to give your Yves a hug so badly omg 😭

THANK YOU AGAIN FOR TAKING THE TIME TO DRAW THEM????? Seeing this made me so happy 😭 I no joke like hopped onto my bed and rolled around smiling 😭 You put so much thought into the placement for everything; the way you drew Y + V's expressions and their body language feels very thoughtful and nuanced, and it's just such a treat to see the scene unfold like this :') I am so endlessly grateful 🙇‍♀️❤️

[runnning-outof-time]

K, I ran to your inbox the moment I saw you'd opened requests again! Could I pls request a blurb using this gif + the prompt "Working together again. Just like old times" as inspo? Only if you feel inspired tho, if not, feel free to ignore it.

I can always count on you to hype me up and help me out whenever I’m in need, Lee, and I’m deeply appreciative of that. 💛 Thanks so very much for sending this in! I’m sorry it took a bit for me to post it…I hope I did it justice! 😊

Like Old Times

Arthur Shelby x Reader

Summary: Arthur goes behind his brother’s back and seeks out (Y/N) for a plan.

Word Count: 1146

Warnings: none

COMMENTS & REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED — I’d love to know what you thought of the story!

“Finally came to your senses, I see,” (Y/N) commented as she realized who it was standing in the archway of her sitting room. “Come, sit. Have a drink with me.”

Arthur Shelby stood, frozen for a moment or two longer. He clenched his peaked cap in his hands, his knuckles growing white as he contemplated whether or not was actually doing to do this. Was he actually going to turn his back on his brother?

“I…I just wanted ta…” he was a fumbling mess, his hesitance spilling out into his words.

“You can skip the explanation, Arthur,” she cut his babbling off. Her stern voice had him standing straight; almost like he’d just been called to attention. (Y/N) grinned when she noticed that she - still - had that effect on him. “Are you with me or not?” she asked then, a slight grin playing on her lips.

“I’m with you,” he nodded his head, sounding more sure now.

“Good,” (Y/N) nodded as well, “now come and sit. I’d still like to have a drink with you,” she attempted to coax him over again.

This time he listened. (Y/N) offered a closed mouth smile and a glass as he sat down in the seat across from her. Arthur accepted it, his eyes locked on her as he slowly brought the glass up to his lips and took a drink.

“So how are we going about it?” (Y/N) asked, crossing one leg over the other as she leaned back in her chair again.

“I…” he had to pause and clear his voice, hating how shaky it sounded as it came out, “I’m not sure if Tommy will, uh….I’m not sure he’ll appreciate anyone going against him,” he was finally able to voice his worry on the situation.

(Y/N)’s eyebrows furrowed as she heard what Arthur had to say. Silence hung between the two for a few moments before the slightest smile formed on her lips.

“What’s…what’s that smile for?” Arthur asked hesitantly.

“Tommy’s not going to have a choice in this matter, Arthur,” (Y/N) responded, her smile growing as she spoke.

“What do you mean?” he still wasn’t understanding what she was getting at.

“If I’m remembering what you said correctly…” she began, sitting up a little bit straighter in her seat before continuing, “he put you in charge of the Eden Club, right?”

“He did.”

“And so you’re the one who gets the final say in what happens there, right?” she asked another question.

“I am,” he was slowly starting to understand.

“And why else on Earth would you’ve come to me if not to get a second opinion on what the Peaky Blinders’d like the club to look like?” her grin was ear to ear now.

I miss spending time with you, was what Arthur wanted to say. But he couldn’t say that to her, not yet at least.

He kicked himself every single day for mishandling his and (Y/N)’s relationship. She was without a doubt the best thing that had happened to him, and yet he still managed to make a mess out of what they once had together. She stuck by him when the Shelby name meant nothing; when Arthur was trying everything he could to make sure his family survived after the war ended.

But then he chose the company over her. It was hard for him not to at the time…Tommy wanted him one-hundred percent invested, and Arthur was determined to show his brother that he also meant business. But meaning business meant personal matters fell to the back burner. (Y/N) wouldn’t have that, so she gave him the ultimatum: split his time better or she leaves. The end result was the latter.

“Arthur?” her voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Hmm?” the noise he made told her that he hadn’t heard what she said.

“I asked you about the vision you had for the club,” she repeated herself, not questioning the reason behind his zoning out, “were you thinking more traditional or modern?”

Arthur felt himself relax as he realized she actually wanted to get into discussion on the club’s appearance. He was worried she would want to re-hash past grievances. But she was ready to get to work, and he was thankful for it.

So get to work they did.

It wasn’t until they got to a pause in their conversation that Arthur realized he hadn’t had much of his drink. He was so engulfed in their shared ideas and her excitement for the upcoming projects that he didn’t so much as think of the thing that he so frequently used as a crutch.

“We laid a pretty adequate groundwork for the club so far, don’t you think?” (Y/N) asked, scribbling a few more things down in the notebook she’d grabbed for the occasion.

“I think so,” Arthur agreed, a grin on his face.

“Look at us, Arthur…” she started, a smile on her face as he raised his eyebrows at her, waiting to hear what else she had to say, “working together again…just like old times.”

Her smile grew as she finished her statement, watching as Arthur raisied his drink in a nonverbal agreement. He took a big swig from it then, enjoying the burn it brought as the liquid travelled down his throat.

“What if…” he started, clearing his throat in hopes he’d sound more confident, “what if I took ya to the club sometime?”

“So I could get a better idea of what we’re working with?” (Y/N) questioned, tilting her head to the side slightly.

“No, uh…” Arthur paused again, feeling silly because obviously she’d take his offer in that light, they’d only been discussing the plans on renovating the club for the last hour or so. “I was thinkin’…I was thinkin’ you and I could go there together. Like…like I could take you there and we could…”

“Arthur Shelby, are you asking me on a date?” she cut into his sheepish babbling, her eyebrows raised as a smile teetered on her lips.

“I, uh…” he let out a sheepish laugh, taking a deep breath and finding her eyes, “I guess I am,” he ended his statement with a smile, waiting on bated breath for her response.

Seconds felt like hours as they passed. (Y/N) wanted to make sure that she was making the right choice. She couldn’t deny that she had missed him. Him showing up and asking her for help at the club surprised her, sure, but she was overjoyed to be able to see him again. And now he was asking her out…maybe this was a chance to start anew.

So, her smile widened as she finally opened her mouth to give her answer, “I’d love to go with you, Arthur.”

Post note: I can’t seem to stop writing Arthur as a stuttering fool when around the woman he has feelings for….I just really think he’d act that way in said situation

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @succubaby @mystcldydrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing

@evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy

@strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut

@zablife @cillmequick @letal-y-poetica @depxiety @shelundeadxxxx

@red-riding-wood @padfootdaredmetoo @crabat-the-queen @sebastianstangirl01 @everythingelseisextra

@kmc1989 @papichulo120627 @brummiereader @adaydreamaway08 @justrainandcoffee

@peakyltd @johannelis2302nely @just-a-blackhole @anotherblinder @ce1iat

@christinasyellowflowers @insanitybyanothername @daisyblinder @wotcherpeak @call-sign-shark

@sleepyycatt @novashelby

[boybandbaby]

The Sweet Escape Part III

911 AU (Prince!Evan Buckley x Fem!Baker!Reader)

previous part

word count: 1926

warnings/tags: angst (I’m a pick me with the way I love the dramatics), classist comment, as always if I miss anything lmk

note: this is a short chapter

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

You’re anxious to deliver today and hoping Buck isn’t waiting for you. Though, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to see him. After yesterday, your crush is no longer just that but is fully realized and developed into love for him.

You can’t say you didn’t try, you almost got engaged to the man. You think Buck might know that you actually do have feelings for him even if you didn’t outright state it.

Somewhere between the lines of your statement, “It’ll never work between us. We come from different worlds. We’re too different” lies a confession, you think. One that says I want to be with you but it’ll be too hard and I’ll never live up to the expectations people have for me as your wife.

You think he might actually be in love with you too. “She’s perfect for me.” He had said. All the years of his antics and kitchen visits might be saying everything he can’t.

None of that matters now. He’s engaged. And not to you.

As you descend the stairs, the place just the previous night where yours and Buck’s hearts broke, you hear Bobby explaining the process of making a perfect omelette to Buck. You know he’s there because of course he’s asking questions while Bobby speaks, impatient for knowledge.

“Good morning.” You smile but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Hi.” Buck breathes airily, grabbing the box from you.

“Thanks.” You don’t fight him like you usually do, something about being a strong independent woman who doesn’t need his help. Your hands graze each others as you pass him the box.

“Hi Bobby.” You wave to him, hoping to act as normal as you possibly can. “What’s for breakfast?”

You already know but you need any conversation to fill the space.

“Omelettes. Would you like one?” He asks, eyes flickering between you and Buck. Buck has already told him everything that happened yesterday, made sure to do it before you arrived.

“Yes, please. If that’s okay.” You quietly state.

Bobby is surprised as you’ve always turned down his offers to eat. He figures you’ve had a long night and he can see it on your face. He asks what you’d like in yours and you tell him.

Buck is surprisingly quiet as he watches you slip gloves on. You pass him a pair and silently work side by side as he hands you each baked good from the box.

“Congratulations, by the way.” You whisper, only for him to hear.

“Oh… yeah, thanks.” He matches your volume.

“And thank you for inviting me. I never got to say that last night.”

“I’m sorry about the way things turned out. I hope you know I never would’ve put you in that position had I known it was going be like that.” He holds onto your hand instead of handing you the next pastry.

“I don’t blame you for anything, Buck. Your parents are who they are and they have their beliefs and we can’t change that.” You smile softly, pulling your hands from his. “Plus, they’re thinking about what’s best for everyone.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

“When you’re King, I hope you’re not a jerk like your dad though.” You laugh.

“And hopefully I don’t get his hairline and wrinkles.” He adds.

You’re both laughing as you finish adding the last piece of coffee cake.

“Buck, here, I made you something to eat too.” Bobby hands him two plates with forks tucked under the omelette. Bobby widens his eyes, trying to send Buck a message. Buck surprisingly understand immediately.

Buck nods his head to the side, a small wooden table that the kitchen crew uses for their breaks. You slip off your gloves, hands clammy as you wipe them on your apron. Buck sets both plates down, one next to the other.

He jumps into action as he sees you slipping your apron strap over your head. He puts both hands on your shoulders and turn you around. His hands slowly run along the two straps tied around your back. It’s unnecessary but feels really nice. He pulls the ties loose and you catch the apron before it hits the ground. You throw it over the edge of the table before he pulls the chair out for you to sit.

It oddly feels like a first date but you know it’s just breakfast with a friend. A friend you may not be able to actually be friends with for much longer. His duties will take him away and you’ll see him less and less. You’ll get the feeling you felt in his absence when he went away for college. He came back that time but you’re not sure you’ll get him back this time.

“How’s your grandma?” He asks as he fills two glasses of water, setting them down then sitting.

“She’s good. Just working a lot. She won’t admit it but she’s starting to slow down. It’s great having Ravi around but he’ll be leaving soon to travel.” You admit.

“You plan on hiring someone else?” He inquires.

“Yeah, we’ll have to. We already have someone in mind but not sure when he can get here.”

“At least you have someone in mind. I could always come help out.” He offers.

“Have you ever baked anything in your life?” You laugh.

“No, but I could try. I’m a fast learner, right Bobby?” Buck calls out to him.

“He just needs to be coached, y/n. Takes a few tries but once he gets it, he’s good. I will say he creates a mess in my kitchen though.”

“That was one time! I spilled the soup one time.”

“Spilled an entire pot of soup just minutes before it was going to be served.” Bobby gives him a look. “Had to take the blame when his mom came down here.”

“Which I’m still sorry about by the way.” He laughs.

You watch him as he goes back and forth with Bobby. He seems so comfortable and carefree unlike when he’s in the spotlight. He has to put on a mask and persona when he’s outside of these walls.

“Well, I’ve got to get going before the bakery opens. Thank you for the food, Bobby.” You collect the plates and utensils before Buck takes them from you.

“And thank you for the hospitality.” You look down to your shoes, the toes touching Buck’s as he stands in front of you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He lightly kicks your toe.

“Always.” You smile, kicking his toe back.

Buck lingers in the kitchen, hoping to avoid his duties today. Luck is not on his side.

“Why are you down here?” He heard the voice of his fiancé.

“I like to help out in the mornings.” He says softly.

“Well, I don’t want to worry about my husband sneaking off with some villager.” She crosses her arms over her chest.

“She’s just a friend, June.” Buck refrains from rolling his eyes.

“Is this another friend you’ve slept with or?” June checks her nails, disgust in her tone.

“No, we’ve never slept together.” He sighs. “If we’re going to be married then you’re going to have to trust me.”

“If we’re going to be married then you’re going to have to cut her out of your life.”

You groan as you realize you’ve forgotten your apron on the table. You make your way back into the kitchen when you hear his voice.

“June, Y/n doesn’t mean anything to me. I swear.”

You’d wish you didn’t hear it but you did. You wished you didn’t forget your apron, that way you would’ve never heard it but you wish most of all he didn’t say it.

You think you really need to stop eavesdropping because it does no good for your mental health. The apron is not important, you can always get a new one. You sneak back out and head home, for good.

The bell above the door rings, bringing you out of your dazed state. You’d gotten too much sleep this morning, having given Ravi your palace delivery and hours. In almost 10 years, you hadn’t slept past 5:30am so your body is not used to the rest.

You continue writing in your notebook, brainstorming ideas for new seasonal recipes, not looking to see who has just come in. Your mind is unfocused, bouncing between Buck’s words and the summer strawberry rhubarb pie recipe.

“Good morning.” Buck smiles, bright and chirpy.

When you don’t answer, Ravi steps in. “Uhh good morning sir, welcome in.”

“Hey Ravi.” He waves. “Y/n, you didn’t come by this morning. You forgot your apron yesterday,” Buck tosses you the apron, walking towards the windows where you have a table displaying different pastries.

“Don’t touch anything, Buckley.” You scold.

“I’m just looking.” He raises his hands, smiling. You roll your eyes at him and watch as he intertwines his hands behind his back and leans over to smell a basket of muffins.

“Don’t hover. You’re going to get germs on the bread and then we can’t sell it.” You slam the notebook you were writing in.

“Sorry, bossy.” He smirks. He thinks you’re back to your regularly scheduled banter.

You look up from the counter where you’d begin assembling boxes and meet his eyes. You ignore his question before taking a stack of built boxes over to the storage wall.

“Here let me.” He runs over and attempts to take the boxes from you.

“I can do it.” You pull back from him.

“Just let me help, you’re so stubborn.” He nudges your shoulder.

“I don’t want your help!” You screech before the boxes tumble to the floor. “Look what you made me do! Why are you even here?” You grumble before dropping to your knees to collect the boxes.

Your face is turned down as tears roll down your cheeks and nose, dripping from the tip of your nose and off your chin.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I just wanted to help. That’s all.” Bucks eyes widen when he sees a tear fall onto your cream colored apron. “I came because I was worried about you. You’ve been doing deliveries to us every day since you were 15.”

“Worried about me? Yeah right.” You stand on wobbly feet and make your way to the storage and stack the boxes one by one.

Buck is stunned at your change of behavior. He no longer believes you’re bantering like friends but that you’re hurt by something he did. Yesterday morning had been the happiest he’s been in months despite being engaged to a woman he barely knew. It was the first time you both had “hung out.” A short 20 minute breakfast where he wasn’t Prince Evan and you weren’t doing bakery duties.

All it took was 20 minutes for Buck to feel what it could be like to be normal and maybe be with you. 20 minutes that allowed him to breathe and just be.

He’s wondering what happened in the span of 24 hours to get you to do a 180 on him. He follows you, face confused and flushed with fear.

“Y/n, what’s going on?” He places a hand on your waist, trying to get you to turn back to him. Trying to get you to communicate what he did that’s made you so angry.

“Just go, Buckley.” You wave him off. “And please don’t come back here.” It’s not yelled or spat with venom. He realizes now that you’re not angry with him but hurt by him.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

next part

[pedricos]

fluffy alphabet with hector fort please

Héctor Fort – A to Z, Fluff alphabet .ᐟ

a.n: tried something different on today's coverr hihi!!

warnings: roof wrecking fluff!!

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

he admirers your intelligence! he's so found of your random fun facts on such different subjects. he loves to learn things from you!!

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

he ABSOLUTELY loves your face!! he keeps pinching your cheeks while he's resting his arm around you, sometimes he doesn't even realize he's doing it.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

he enjoys being the little spoon now and then, but prefers you being it, since he know you get cold more easily, so he keeps you warm!!

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

definitely a fan of simple dates, just to remind the beginning of the relationship!! but on especial dates, he likes to go fancy.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

héctor at first would keep some secrets about how he felt about certain things, mostly about being insecure, but now, he definitely he's learning on how vocalize his feelings.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

maybe he's more ready than you, but if you don't want kids, he won't insist on the subject anymore!! but if you do, he can give you ten names he saved for boy, and at least six for girls.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

he's always so shy to give you gifts. pandora necklaces, rings even little handwriting letters, he just leaves them for you to find.

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

can only go out holding hands!! but also enjoys putting his hands on the back pockets of your jeans and walking around when your hands are busy.

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

he doesn't let you do anything!! twisted your wrist? doesn't even let you up the stairs alone. your stomach hurts? he's walking all the day down the street to buy you medicine.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

loveees to tease and annoy you!! when he's with yamal, they just make fun of everything you say. god forgive you stutter or pronounce something wrong.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

he's a very passionate kisser. when things get more intimate, he's a fast and yearning kisser, he's showing dominance. if the moment is sweet, he's enjoying slowly a romantic kiss.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

quality time and gift giving!! he likes to spend time with you just doing anything, at all, but also loves to give you nice things. the purse with the hello kitty plushie you saw on pre-sale? he's buying one of each color.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

the day he proposed to you. the sunset in the perfect yellow and pink sky, with the beach only for the two of you. the sound of the waves were so relaxing and you looked so good under the golden hour. he dreams every night with this day.

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

his worst nightmare is breaking your trust. he doesn't let gap open for you to distrust him!! girls on his dms sending nasty things? he's deleting. weird comments on his ig? he's blocking.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

he can, and he will, just randomly pick you up out of nowhere and do things around the house with you on his shoulders.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

you're his 'princesa'. nothing more or nothing less!! sometimes, he'll tell people you're his fiancee.

“mi prometida and yo..”

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

he enjoys time with you by you just being there!! the movie you went to see sucked? at least you had a good laugh. the rain ruined the picnic? he made both of you catch a cold by dancing in the rain.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

he's not the romantic music' type of guy, but sometimes he'll dedicate some loves songs in english.

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

at first he would communicate much about his feelings, but now, he's learning how to vocalize them more and even let's himself shed some tears about his emotions.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

you knew eachother from a friend in common. you never gave too much importance of him at first, but he was the one to make the first move to ask you out!!

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

he tries to hide as much as possible!! but, he know you know him, and it's impossible to keep with the nonchalant attitude all day, so eventually, he just goes back to normal!! you just need to give him some space.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

you're with him everywhere he goes, even if you're not there!! initial tattooed on his ring finger, chain with your initial, lockscreen is a photo of you, polaroid in the phone case. you're his watermark.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you?)

he's ready to throw punches. not like he needs to beat someone up for them to be scared, cause you already got your scary dog privilege.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

he always confused at first, like one day you just woke up in the wrong side of bed and decided to be mad at him all day, but during the day, he puts you on his arms and asks you to tell him your worries.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

the prettiest night time you've ever seen. full moon shining it's brightest, the wind blowing just right in the balcony of the restaurant he took you. you looked the prettiest that night, even if you refused his propose, he wouldn't mid it. but you didn't, so it turned into his perfect day.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

when you caresses his tattoo. your nail making him shiver while it goes all the way on his arm, tracing the ink on his skin.

what do you guys think im going to uni for?? 🤭 trynna see what people think of meee

taking requests!!! bye bye, hope you liked it 💋