#do i have a sign stuck to my back that says ‘CHANGE MY MIND?’

[stevebabey]

This is the link to the screenshots. I really don’t want to get into this because I love both of the blog owners and writers but if you see the screenshots it has changed my mind. Of course I’m not going to hate on anyone and stir the pot but I think everyone deserves all the information before they decide who they’re siding with. 🫶

look, last ask i’m answering on it because i will not be the bitch to flood the dash (sorry mewchies forgive me <3)

there’s no link in this ask. if you have genuine actual proof of autumn being nasty, then sure— you can send it to me. reason being, i genuinely do not think it exists because autumn is a nice person.

if the screenshots you’re referring to are her conversations with a smut blog then woah have i got news for you! i’ve already seen them. i was talking & giving advice to her through the whole convo of them trying to find middle ground.

let me reiterate; i made that post asking that if you agree with the rumours, please unfollow me. i’m not trying to change your mind. i’ve seen the screenshots and no one has yet managed to whip up proof that she’s been one of the thousand nasty anons going around so, i believe my friend more than the random words of blogs i’ve never heard of before. i value her friendship more than your follow.

peace and love, mwah!

[hargreeves-duncan]

Hey! I saw that you’re taking tua requests and after season 4 I’m in desperate need of fluff fanfics. May I request a Five x Y/N where Y/N looks exactly like how Five envisions Delores but they haven’t met yet and right when Five and Lila were about to kiss in the greenhouse, Y/N appears with a gun because this two strangers invaded her greenhouse and Five would be utterly shocked and immediately let go of Lila and went to Y/N calling her Delores and she would say something like “I don’t know who Delores is but the two of you better start explaining what you’re doing in my greenhouse or I’ll bury a bullet in your skulls.” And after that it could be all fluff with a happy ending. Maybe Five takes her to meet his family when he finds a way back?

a/n: thank you for your lovely request! the idea of reader as a dolores variant is so sweet, i just had to write this! i hope you love it!!

summary: five mistakes you for dolores, you turn out to be quite the opposite

warnings: reader has a gun😟

word count: 2.4k

Trying to traverse this damn subway was driving Five insane. If he had been keeping track accurately, he and Lila had been stuck down here for seven years. For someone that had made it through forty years alone at the end of the world, you’d think that he’d be able to hack it, but a couple of key factors had changed since his first time around.

1. This time he wasn’t alone.

When he’d brought Lila down to the station, the thought of getting stuck there hadn’t even crossed his mind. Every other time Five had visited the subway, he’d made it home with no problems whatsoever.

It was typical that when he was accompanied by the one woman he’d never want to be around for a prolonged amount of time, that the universe would screw him over and trap them there.

He did have to admit, the more time that they had spent together, and the less likely getting home seemed, Lila had become tolerable. He might even go as far as to say he liked her now.

She was smarter than he’d given her credit for and painfully determined in working out their way home. Lila had always kept them both going, insisting that if they’d gotten there in the first place that there had to be a way out. Five wasn’t so sure anymore.

2. Dolores wasn’t here.

Whilst Five could pretend that if he stopped looking for a way out and settled down with Lila in a new timeline he would be happy enough, he knew that in reality, he wouldn’t be. There was no way that his friendship with Lila would ever measure up to the company of Dolores and the love he had for her.

She had been his everything for more of his life than not and his connection with her had truly meant something to him. Unlike whatever circunstancial friendship he had built with Lila.

For a long time, Five’s daily routine had revolved entirely around making sure that Dolores was cared for and making sure that they were always one step closer to finding a better way of life. Because he would be damned if his girlfriend had to live a life with anything but the very best.

This time, without the motivation of holding Dolores in his arms at the end of a long day, Five had found little reason to keep searching for a way to get home. He was beginning to lose all hope entirely as he and Lila had got off the subway for the fiftieth time that day.

As they stepped out into the sun, it became clear that of all the timelines they’d been to, this one was, without a doubt, the most peaceful. They were surrounded by woodland that stretched as far as the eye could see.

Somewhere above their heads Five could hear birds twittering. That was a good sign, this timeline was still habitable, many of the last ones hadn’t been.

Five walked out into forest. The trees there shot up almost 70 feet into the sky. It was breathtaking.

Somewhere along his stroll, Lila, had ended up off course, discovering the new world around them, “Wow.” She whispered to herself.

Five chuckled and raised an eyebrow as he walked towards her, “If you’re done here, there’s something much more interesting that we ought to take a look at.”

He pointed to the bottom of the hill that they stood on, where a small cottage sat. It looked as if it came from a fairytale, with its thatched roof and adjacent greenhouse, that housed all sorts of plants and flowers.

A small seed of doubt planted itself in his head the more he looked it over. It looked too nice. What if it was some sort of trap?

Lila clearly didn’t have the same trepidations. She gasped with excitement, then turned back to him, saying, “What’re you waiting for? Let’s go.”

As suspicious as he now was, he wasn’t strong enough to crush Lila’s hopeful expression. He hadn’t seen her look this spritely in weeks and if this didn’t end up being what they wanted he needed her to be okay to keep going. So, he followed her down the hill.

By the time he’d reached the bottom, Lila was already waiting, hands on her hips as she laughed at him, “Come on, old man, what is taking you so long? I want to explore this cottage before someone comes and tells me that I’m imagining it.”

She reached out, pulling on his arm impatiently and he couldn’t help but smile back at her. He supposed he could entertain this fantasy of normality for a while.

Lila grinned as she led them up the steps, peering in through the glass at the throng of shrubbery packed into the building. With a tug on the door, Lila led them into the greenhouse.

Five had to appreciate the organisation of it. One corner of it hosted a mix of plants and herbs, another held flowers, another for vegetables as well and even one for- “Strawberries!” Lila gasped, dropping his arm and rushing over to them.

In that moment, there couldn’t have been a better sight in the world than home-grown fruit. It’d been a painfully long time since they’d last eaten real food and Five suddenly felt starving.

He watched as Lila picked a strawberry, taking a bite. She groaned in pleasure, closing her eyes. Mouth still full, she beckoned him closer, “Five, come here, you have got to try these.”

Five obeyed, walking over to her. Lila took another enthusiastic bite, as she declared, “I think these might be the best things that I’ve ever eaten.”

Tossing the hull of the strawberry behind her, Lila reached for another. She smirked at Five, waving the strawberry in front of his lips tauntingly, “Open up.”

Five rolled his eyes, trying to repress the smile that was creeping onto his lips as he relented, opening his mouth. Lila pressed the strawberry to his lips and as he bit down…

Click.

Five froze, eyes snapping open. Lila spun around and her lips parted in shock as she took you in. There, you stood, shotgun cocked and pointed at the pair of them.

You were a sight for sore eyes, with your tousled hair around your shoulders and polka dot dress that fell effortlessly around your hips. Five was completely mesmerised.

Your soft hair, the polka dots that covered your dress, it was all so familiar to him. Your presence felt like a greeting from an old friend and he smiled lovingly at you as he said, “Dolores.”

Lila’s presence was entirely forgotten as you stood in front of him, just as beautiful as he’d remembered. Lila raised an eyebrow, asking, “You know her?” at the same time as you asked, “Dolores?!”

You looked them both in the eye, stepping closer and aiming the barrel of the gun at their heads, “I don’t know who Dolores is but the two of you better start explaining before I shoot you both.”

You had to admit, you were slightly intrigued by the appearance of the two of them. More specifically, the man in front of you. Even more so when he audibly laughed at your words.

You raised an eyebrow at him, smirking with amusement as you said, “You do realise that you’re trespassing, right? That I’m well within my rights to pull this trigger and put a bullet through both of your skulls?”

Five was still looking at you as if you’d hung the moon and the stars and not just threatened to shoot him.

Lila shoved her elbow into his chest and he groaned, clutching it, “Jesus… Lila!” He said, glaring at her.

“What?” Lila groaned, looking over at him with a huff, “She asked you a question.”

“Yes, thank you.” You said with a small nod as you watched her. She nodded back with a pleased smile, holding her hands behind her back.

You look back at Five, expectantly, gun still raised, “Well?”

He smiled saccharinely at you, being sure to emphasise his words as he said, “Me and my friend here just got a little lost, that’s all.”

“Hm… getting lost is what we’re calling breaking and entering now?” You challenge and your combative demeanour only made Five want to get to know you more.

He grinned, shrugging his shoulders innocently, “It would appear that way.” He said, making it impossible for you to ignore the cockiness in his tone.

You simply laughed at him, lowering your weapon slightly, “And Dolores?”

“She’s…” He paused, thinking it through. He couldn’t exactly say who Dolores really was, you’d think he was crazy and that was the last thing he wanted.

If he ignored the fact that you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, he could also tell that you were exactly the kind of woman he wanted to know and he was not going to mess up any chance he might have with you, “…my ex-girlfriend.”

That wasn’t entirely untrue, he thought to himself. Lila’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Slowly, a look of realisation spread across her face and she stifled her laughter as she asked, “Hold on, you don’t mean that manne-“

“Please, excuse my friend.” He hastily cut Lila off with an infuriated glare thrown in her direction.

“She has terrible conversational etiquette.” Five offered, smiling politely at you as if he hadn’t just completely shut Lila down, “I’m Five, and that over there is Lila.”

You nodded in return. Lila smiled but made no more attempts to initiate a conversation as she wandered off deeper into the green house.

Five, happy to have the chance to speak you alone, stepped closer, “It’s a nice place.” He said, putting his hands in his pockets.

You lowered your gun, slinging it over your shoulder and offering him a warmer smile, “Thanks, I think so too.”

You were funny. He felt himself grow more smitten with every word you said. He brushed his hair out of his eyes, raising an eyebrow at you, “What did you say your name was again?”

“I didn’t.” You answer, brushing off your skirt. His eyes followed your fingers as you did.

You walked by him to pick up a bag of compost and dropped it onto the countertop beside you. Five walked after you, placing a hand on the table in your eyeline, practically begging you to keep the conversation going.

The last time he’d gotten so quickly attached to a girl, he’d been with her for forty years and he was already thinking about what that might look like with you, “Are you going to tell me it?” He pushed, tilting his head to the side as he smiled at you.

You stopped breaking up the soil, laughing softly as you looked over your shoulder at him, “You know, you’re very interested in knowing about me for someone I just caught breaking into my house.”

“I thought we’d agreed that we were just lost? I can confidently say that there was no ill intent on my part.” He replies, smirking at you.

“Maybe not.” You say, smacking your palms against each other to dust them off, “But there is intent of some kind.” You bend down, pulling out an empty plant pot from below the counter.

“True…” Five hummed, tapping his finger on the counter as he watched you place the pot onto the table and begin to fill it with compost.

He looks around the room some more - noticing the lone chair and table in the observatory by the back door, “You live here alone?”

He asked, watching your nimble fingers form a well in the centre of the pot. He looked over his shoulder to where Lila was prodding a venus flytrap and then back to you for your answer.

“I do.” You reply as your fingers continue to press deeper into the soil. Five nodded, rolling his sleeves up and leaning them on the countertop with a sly smile.

You dust off your hands again and go back to kneeling on the floor. Five watches with interest as you sift through pots and packets of different flowers.

“Okay and why is that?” He asks, bending down beside you as you consider which flower to pot.

You look over at him and notice how his eyes lingers on the bright, yellow marigolds tucked away to the left. You take them out.

“Because…” You say, hauling the smaller pot onto the counter again, “I’ve never been much of a people person.”

“Hence why you live in the middle of the woods.” Five nods along, smiling to himself. He was beginning to get an idea of what kind of girl you were and he liked it.

“Exactly.” You nod, gently prying the marigolds from their original pot and settling them into the divet in their new one.

You scooped some compost into your hands, sprinkling the marigold with an extra layer of dirt, “That’s me, but what about you? What makes a guy like you take a wander in the woods?”

A guy like him? Five glanced down at himself, suddenly feeling very self-conscious of his dirtied appearance. He hadn’t looked in a mirror in a while but he couldn’t imagine that seven years without a shower had done him any good.

Then again, your arms were buried elbow deep in dirt right now, so he figured he couldn’t look that awful, “It’s a long story but… simply put, my friend and I are looking for a place to stay.”

“I see.” You hum, touching up the marigolds. You pull open a drawer, taking out some pruners and making tiny adjustments to the flowers.

Five appreciated the precision with which you worked on them, he imagined that you treated all of your plants with the same amount of time and care. He was beginning to feel a little jealous of them.

You tilted your head to the side as you looked back at him, “So, you just thought that you’d crash here?”

Five looked slightly embarrassed as he stood up straighter, searching for the right answer. Lila smiled, yelling from the other side of the room, “Yeah, pretty much. It’s a really nice place.”

You laugh at her bluntness, placing down your pruners and dusting off your hands again, “Good to know.”

Five chuckles and looks back down at the counter. Taking in the sight of the finished marigolds, sitting plump and pretty in their new home, he smiles, “They’re beautiful.”

“Consider them a welcome gift for the two of you.” You say, pushing the pot towards him. Then, you wink, walking past him and back into the house.

Five is rendered speechless.

[sturniolohouse]

Anniversary in the Cape - M.S

A/N: hey so, i feel CRAZY after writing this. this is truly an example of the duality of my writing... also, i'm sorry if there's any typos, i've proofread a ton and even stuck this bitch in grammarly but i could have missed something. she's looonnnng, so get some wine (if legal) and some popcorn and enjoy!!!!!! ALSO, ALSO, minors!!! DNI!!!! pls and thank you. :)

summary: matt and reader take their relationship to the next level, going on an overdue vacation to the cape for their anniversary.

warnings: cursing, smut (unprotected do not recommend), spanking, choking, matt being hot, uhhh idk

word count: 5.8k

song: stargazing - the neighborhood

'started with a spark, now we're on fire'

"And you're sure your parents were okay with us using the car and the house?" I ask looking at him focus on the road in front of him.

"Yes, baby. For the one-hundredth time, they don't mind. Quit worrying, this is our vacation," He looks at me quickly, taking a hand off the wheel to meet my thigh and squeeze it lightly.

"I know, I'm just nervous," I admit softly and he turns to me with wide playful eyes.

"Nervous! Why the hell are you nervous?" He laughs in bewilderment, and I roll my eyes, shrugging slightly.

"I mean, obviously we've been alone before, but we've never been away just the two of us," I explain.

"Yeah, and I'm fucking ecstatic about it. Like you said, no interruptions, quiet house, on the cape...possibilities are endless." He says looking at me with a small suggestive smile growing on his face.

Of course, Matt and I get alone time. Do we get as much as we would like? No.

It's difficult finding time for ourselves when Matt lives with his brothers and my roommates are hermits.

Which I never saw as an issue, because I honestly don't mind spending time with Chris and Nick whenever I'm by their place–which is often. I was actually friends with all of them way before Matt and I began dating. 

But when Matt brought up the last time we had gone on a real date, it had been months.

"No, I know. I'm excited too, it's just a new step in our relationship and it feels very...adult? I don't know, I sound silly," I shake my head and he squeezes my thigh again before grabbing my hand.

"Hey, I know what you mean, and you don't sound silly." He softens a bit to reassure me before kissing the back of my hand. My heart warms at his gesture and I squeeze his hand. 

"I'm excited to show you one of my favorite places, I still can't believe you've never been. I literally grew up here." He changes the subject as he switches lanes and I see the sign indicating Cape Cod is less than a mile away.

We flew into Boston by ourselves yesterday afternoon and spent the night at his parent's house. It was Matt's idea, saying he didn't mind taking the drive as it wasn't too far from his house in Somerville. 

"Are you finally going to tell me what we're doing?" I rub circles into the back of his hand with my thumb.

His mouth quirks to one side pensively but he laughs as soon as he hears me sigh impatiently. 

"Okay, okay, you really wanna know?" He drawls out, turning to glance at me for a moment then turning back to the road. 

"You know I wanna know," I lean over the divider and stare into the side of his face. He smirks a bit, side-eyeing me a few times before humming. 

"Hmm, I think I'll leave you squirming a little longer," He says after a moment.

He exits the highway and I huff, slumping back into my seat.

This place looks like something straight out of a storybook.  

The green, hilly scenery takes my breath away. Matt shows me the main street, driving past the historic houses and buildings as families and couples walk down the street. When we round the bend, the dense trees become few and far between and the lush green landscape dissolves into tall grass, sand, and rock as the ocean comes into view.

We drive along the coast the rest of the way and I just stare in awe at the cozy beach town as Matt tells stories of growing up here in the summer. 

"That house at the end is the family house," He points to the one on the left.

Pulling into the driveway, Matt puts the car in park before cutting the engine. I go to open my door but he stops me, putting a finger up and getting out of the car himself.

I give him a questioning look before I see him jog to the other side of the car to open my door for me.

"And they say chivalry is dead," I shake my head jokingly and he shrugs with a smirk.

I get out of the car and lean up to give him a quick kiss, we're smiley and giddy when we pull apart. He gives me another kiss before handing me a key.

"Go head inside, I'll grab our bags," He says softly against my lips and I nod quickly.

As I walk past him to make my way to the front door, I feel a light slap to my ass. I go to give him a playful disapproving look, but he's already opening the trunk to grab our stuff and acting like nothing happened.

The house is small and charming.

It belongs to their grandparents and has been the family vacation home for decades. The colorful wind chimes on the front porch sing with the soft breeze. I breathe in the salty air and walk towards the steps leading to the front door.

I twist the key to open the door and I'm engulfed with a warm, inviting scent. There are tons of family pictures on the walls and my heart swells at the baby pictures of the triplets.

I can easily spot Matt in a picture of the three of them on the beach, probably around four or five years old.

Seeing photos of them as children always blows my mind because of how identical they looked.

Matt comes in with our bags, noticing me looking at the photos on the wall.

"You were so fucking cute as a kid," I say going to grab my duffel from him but he takes my hand instead, leading me down the hall to the bedroom.

"Am I not cute now?" He pretends to be offended.

"Eh," I joke back and he opens the door at the end of the hall.

"This is our bedroom, the bathroom is next door on the left," He nods behind us toward the hall.

The bedroom is a pale seafoam green color, the bed adorned with a vintage patchwork quilt lined with a ruffle trim. The room has more family photos hung on the walls and beach-themed decor.

"We can unpack now and then head to the store to grab something for dinner and the next few days. There's definitely no food here. Sound good?" He places our bags on the bed and turns to me, placing his hands on his hips.

He wears a backward camo Boston Red Sox hat, a black tee with a silver chain around his neck, jean shorts, and white New Balance sneakers.

I must have been ogling him for too long because he snaps his fingers in front of my face with a smug expression.

"D'ya hear me, kid, or are you too busy eye-fucking me?" He smiles, licking his lips, and I feel a deep blush bloom from my chest up to my neck.

"Not my fault my boyfriend is so hot," I shrug, trying to recover from his playful callout, and he rolls his eyes, blushing himself.

He shakes his head, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me into his chest. I wrap my arms around his middle, placing my head over his heart as we settle into a moment of comfortable silence.

An intrusive thought takes over, and I squeeze him tighter against me. I hear him groan at the sudden pressure of my grip, and he grabs hold of my arms.

"Okay, okay. Enough with the cuteness-aggression. You're going to break my ribs, kid," He wheezes.

I let up only after he tickles my sides. I squeal as he chases me to the other side of the bed and I finally surrender and ask for mercy. He slaps my ass and tells me I'll pay for it later.

We unpack our stuff and head out to the store to get ingredients for tacos. The one and only thing I've tried to improve in Matt is his cooking skills.

When we first got together, it was concerning how little he knew about cooking along with the number of times a week he'd eat out. I changed that real fast, teaching him basic meals he could make himself that were quick and pretty foolproof. Tacos were one of them.

"Go shower, I'll start dinner." He tells me, putting all of the groceries on the counter.

"You sure you can handle it?" I tease, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Hey, I've gotten better. Didn't you like the salmon I made you the other week?" He points his finger at me and I roll my eyes.

"Yes, my love, I was very proud of you." I lean in and kiss the corner of his mouth, "I'll be quick," I say before going to take my long-awaited shower.

As the hot water cascades over my shoulders, I can't help but let my thoughts drift. This trip is a huge step for us, and despite my nerves, I know it was a much-needed and deserved trip.

We don't really have an anniversary only because we both don't remember the specific date and we never made our being official a big deal. It's never been our style.

But we decided this would be a getaway for our 'anniversary' as next month will be our second summer together.

I finish up and wrap myself in a towel, savoring the lingering warmth before I quickly get dressed. I smell the scent of sizzling meat and spices coming from the kitchen.

When I reach the kitchen, I can't help but smile at the sight of Matt carefully chopping lettuce. His brows furrowed and his tongue poked out in serious concentration.

"Smells amazing in here," I comment, leaning against the doorway.

Matt looks up startled a bit, dropping the knife and putting a hand over his heart. A proud grin quickly spreads across his face when he realizes it's just me.

"You fuckin' scared me. I'm almost done, just need to heat up the tortillas." He gestures for me to come over, and I do, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind.

"You're getting good at this," I compliment, kissing his shoulder as he flips the tortillas.

"Only because I have a great teacher," he replies, turning his head to kiss my cheek.

I help set the table while Matt finishes up. We sit down to eat, the atmosphere cozy and intimate. The tacos are actually delicious, and I make sure to shower Matt with compliments for his efforts. We pop open the sparkling apple cider Mary-Lou and Jimmy gave as a parting gift to us. Digging through the cupboards, we end up finding old plastic flutes to make a quick toast with.

"Here's to us, thank you for making each day brighter. To many more days with you, I love you very much," I say simply, raising my glass. He gets shy and smiley but clinks our glasses.

I can't help but smile at him as he blushes and tries to hide it. I lean in for a kiss and he immediately gives me one.

"I love you more," He whispers against me, pulling me onto his lap and giving me a deeper kiss. "I would say something too, but I don't want to sound stupid,"

"Hush, I already know you're madly in love with me. You made me bomb ass tacos," I joke, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and pulling him into my chest. He giggles and kisses my collarbone.

After dinner, we go to the backyard to watch what's left of the sunset. We put a lawn chair by the water and sit together watching the orange horizon disappear behind the shoreline. The hues of blues and purples melt together in the sky until it grows darker and the moonlight casts a silvery glow on the water.

The sound of the waves is soothing, our breathing in sync as I sit in his lap, his hand drumming lightly on my hip.

"This will continue to be my favorite place, I'm glad I get to share it with you." Matt says, his voice soft and contemplative.

"Thank you for sharing it with me," I reply, squeezing his hand. "I'm really happy we came."

"Me too." He turns to face me, his blue eyes reflecting the moonlight. He goes deep in thought for a moment and he almost goes to say something but stops himself.

I give him a questioning look and nudge him lightly.

"What was that?" I ask gently and he shakes his head.

"Nothing," He tries to brush it off but I grab his chin and turn his face toward me.

"Didn't seem like it," I play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"I don't wanna freak you out," he says lowly and I give him a pressing look before he sighs deeply, finally giving in.

"I was just imagining our future. I can just see us, you know, bringing our kids here in the summers. They'd grow up with memories of this place like I do," he admits, staring directly at the water as he confesses his inner thoughts.

My heart tightens with emotion at his statement.

"You think about stuff like that?" My voice cracks, tears stinging my eyes and he immediately snaps his head to look at me.

"Hey, why are you crying?" He looks worried, cupping my cheek and using his thumb to catch a tear falling.

"Of course, I think of 'stuff like that' though. Does that scare you?" His voice laced with uncertainty and I shake my head immediately at his foolish question.

"No, no," I say softly, running my hand through his hair tenderly, then tracing his face. Starting from his left eyebrow, down his cheekbone, and over the scruff on his jaw.

His eyes flutter at my soft touch and he grabs my hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss my knuckles.

"It's actually really sweet, Matt. I didn't think you'd want things like that with me, a family..." I admit and his eyes widen at my foolishness.

"Sweetheart, I hope you know you're it for me. Pretty sure if you ever decide one day you're sick of me, I'll spend the rest of my fucking life alone." He tells me openly and I blubber at his sweet words that pierce my heart more.

"Stop crying," He laughs lightly, getting slightly nervous by my reaction but I try to compose myself.

"You wanna have babies with me," I squeak, crying more and he tosses his head back in laughter as I continue to be a mess.

"Yes, I want 'babies' with you. If you want babies," He smiles, continuing to wipe my tears. "Okay, I love you, but you have snot all over your face," he says motioning all over his face with his finger and I gasp covering my nose.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Now, no more tears" He says and I roll my eyes, hitting his shoulder lightly, laughing a little bit now.

"They're happy tears. I just love you, a lot. It's overwhelming sometimes," I bury my face into his neck and he rubs my back soothingly as I actually compose myself.

I must be severely PMS-ing because I'm never this emotional.

"I know what you mean," He says, my heart swelling once more. "It scares me how much I love you." He kisses my hair but I lift my head for a real one.

We share a tender kiss, the ocean breeze wrapping around us like a comforting embrace.

"I can see it too by the way. Having a family. But way, way in the future," I say when I pull away, fixing the hair on his forehead.

"Oh, yeah for sure. Although, shit happens, who knows." He shrugs and I raise my eyebrow.

"Well, thanks to modern science and my IUD, no kids for at least ten years," I say and his eyes widen a bit.

"Okay, ten years is kinda a long time..." He trails off, catching me off guard.

"Matt!" I say in shock.

"I'm kidding!" He laughs.

. ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ˖

Matt walks into the room after brushing his teeth just as I'm taking the throw pillows off the bed and pulling back the duvet.

I feel his arms wrap around me from behind and his face buries into my neck. He places open-mouth kisses on the curve of my neck, making his way up to my ear, where he grazes his teeth lightly.

I sigh, shuddering at the sensation and allowing my head to fall back against his shoulder.

He puts both hands on my hips this time, pulling my backside into his crotch. I moan at the feeling of him already hardening against me and I press my legs together in anticipation.

"I like this, no one around to interrupt...just us," His voice is velvet and I melt into his hold.

I hum, "Yeah, it's nice," My voice is airy.

"Can be as loud as we want, too..." He chuckles lowly, as I feel one of his hands sneak beneath my sleep shirt.

His fingertips delicately dance up my stomach, barely even touching my skin. Leaving goosebumps in their wake, yearning for his touch.

His hand stops right below my breast and I whine when he doesn't touch me further. I arch hoping to make more contact with his hand, but he doesn't give it to me.

"Matt," I say almost as a whisper, a plea.

"Mm," He hums, returning to kissing my neck. I can hear and feel the smug grin on his face, he knows what game he's playing.

"Touch me," I whine, arching again and lifting myself to reach his hand.

He finally cups my breast, taking my nipple in between his fingers and I gasp as he tugs and pinches gently.

He sucks on my ear lightly, giving it a kitten lick before blowing cold air. I spin around in his hold, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him into me.

The kiss was explosive, and we both let out a breath we didn’t realize we were holding.

He wraps his arms around me, pulling our hips flush together and leaning into the kiss more, forcing me to bend back.

In the heat of the moment, we stumble back onto the bed behind us clumsily, my butt slipping off the edge of the bed. I yelp when I almost fall, and laugh into the kiss. Our teeth clink together momentarily as he chuckles too.

He grabs under my thighs, lifting me further onto the bed as I make room for him to settle between them.

"That's better," He breathes out before kissing me again, laying me down on the cool linen sheets.

I revel in the feeling of his weight on top of me, our hips perfectly puzzled together, my hands running through his soft hair, while his rest on my hips.

I tug at the roots of his hair to elicit a delicious sound from him, something primal and guttural.

He squeezes my hips and pulls back to look down at me with half-lidded eyes. His pupils are so blown out you can barely make out the icy blue of his irises.

He keeps eye contact with me as he makes his way lower, lifting my sleep shirt above my breasts. My nipples pebble and harden as they're exposed to the cool air. He places wet kisses down my sternum, then my stomach until he reaches right above my cotton underwear.

He kneels on the floor so he's perfectly aligned in front of my core, his fingers play with the band of my underwear and he smiles to himself shaking his head.

I lean up on my elbows, "What?" I can't help but smile back.

"Kittens?" He raises his eyebrows and smirks at me.

I shrug, not ashamed in the slightest at the pattern of my underwear.

"Yeah, you like 'em?" I deadpan, but break into a grin when he tips his head back and laughs.

Endearingly, of course.

"Very sexy," he replies, and I shriek as he yanks me to the very edge of the bed.

He slips his fingers into the hem of my underwear, finally pulling them down my legs and discarding them. He lightly slaps the inside of my thigh before prying them apart and pinning them.

Just as quick as we're joking about my underwear, I'm back to trembling under his touch.

Completely exposed to him now, he teases me, kissing my inner thighs and nipping at the sensitive skin.

My hips buck at the gentle assault but he keeps me in place, stunting my movements.

"Patience..." he chides and I roll my eyes.

He slaps my thigh a little harder this time and I hiss, my core pulsing at the act. He licks a stripe on each crease of my thigh, purposely ignoring my aching cunt.

His thumbs spread my lips apart before he collects my arousal using it to circle my clit. I whimper at the contact, stopping myself from bucking my hips again.

Matt's in a trance, mouth agape, eyes heavy, as he continues to tease me and I become more and more restless.

Almost as if he couldn't contain himself any longer, he finally buries his head between my thighs. He hungrily licks from my entrance up to my clit, before sucking on my swollen nub like I'm a honeysuckle.

"Fuck," I gasp under my breath, squirming under his grip. My breath shallowed and my heart stuttered.

"I told you, we could be as loud as we want," He slurs against me, flattening his tongue against me and shaking his head side to side quickly.

I let go of a whine before snapping my legs around his head, overwhelmed by pleasure. He growls, immediately prying them back open and relentlessly swirling his tongue against me.

I grab a hold of the hair at the crown of his head as he continues to drink me in. Skillfully lapping every inch of my folds, knowing exactly what to do to get me wound up in merely minutes.

I feel the build-up of my first orgasm, all my muscles going taut as I begin to shake uncontrollably.

Matt knows that I'm about to come, so he pulls his mouth away and replaces it with his fingers. He slips his ring and middle fingers inside me with ease, massaging my front wall and coaxing my orgasm out of me with each gentle drag.

"Oh my fucking god," I cry out, my hips moving with his fingers.

He stands above me now, swiping my hair away from my face and gently caressing my cheekbone. I grab onto his bicep beside me as he leans down to kiss me, swallowing my whimpers. 

"C'mon, baby. I can feel you squeezing the fuck outta my fingers. Come for me," His voice is a gentle command against my jaw. 

His mouth attaches to my nipple as his thumb smushes into my puffy clit, drawing lazy circles, stimulating me everywhere.

That's all it takes before the wave peaks, then crashes and floods of icy-hot, blinding pleasure courses through me. He moans against me as he feels me pulse and ooze around his fingers.

My nails dig into his bicep and I arch into him, my hips mindlessly riding out the pleasure as his name falls from my lips in a desperate, broken cry.

His mouth and fingers gently work me through the aftershocks before I'm grabbing his wrist and whining from the sensitivity. 

"You're so fucking hot," He breathes, kissing me again.

I exhale into him, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him down onto me.

He pulls back, tossing his shirt off his head and undoing his belt, looking down at me as I lay half-naked and panting. I lean up on my elbows and move myself further up the bed.

He's only in his black boxers now, placing a knee on the bed before crawling towards me.

"Wanna taste you," I say, reaching up to kiss his neck and he lets out a shaky breath.

He shakes his head, "I won't fucking make it," he pants, grabbing my jaw and claiming my mouth again.

He pulls back, "As much as I love this fucking mouth," He adds darkly, tracing my swollen lips before licking them sensually and kissing me deeper.

I moan at the kiss and the feel of his cold rings against my hot skin. I run my hands down his chest as our breathing picks up, the kiss becoming more heated.

I run my tongue along his bottom lip and he allows me in before moving his hand down from my jaw to my neck, squeezing gently.

I pull back this time to take my shirt off, leaving me completely bare in front of him. I then hook my fingers in the band of his boxers and pull them down just enough to free him. His dick springs up, the tip so red it looks painful.

I spit into my hand before taking him into my hand and giving him a couple of strokes, swiping his weeping tip with my thumb. He whimpers at the touch before grabbing my wrist and making me release him.

I pout, bringing my thumb to my mouth to suck off his precum. His mouth falls agape at the sight, and his eyes screw shut as he falls onto one of his hands weakly.

"What's wrong?" I make sure my voice is dripping like sweet, gooey honey. Tempting a very hungry grizzly bear.

He grits his teeth, straightening himself back up on his knees in front of me. I look up at him, my hand rubbing up and down his thigh.

"You're going to be the death of me," His voice is gritty, and I tilt my head innocently. I yelp when he grabs my hips and flips me over.

It's moments like these that remind me of his surprising strength.

He pulls me onto my knees so my cheek is pressed into the mattress and my ass is elevated, leaving me exposed and shaking with anticipation.

His hand comes down onto my asscheek and I hiss at the sting. I feel his dick poke the back of my thigh as his hand smooths over my ass to ease the burn.

"Matt, please," I pant when he kisses down my spine and I push my hips back impatiently.

"Need my cock that bad, hm?" he murmurs against my skin and I nod quickly.

"Need you inside me, please," I whine, not caring how desperate I sound, only focused on how his low chuckle makes my core pulse around nothing.

"Yeah?" He croons and my breath hitches when I feel him run his tip along my aching pussy. Knocking against my clit with each teasing stroke.

"Yes-" I whimper and then gasp when I feel the familiar, delicious stretch of him.

I grip the sheets as he grips my hips harshly, slowly entering me.

"Fuuuck," He strains out, and I can picture the vein in his neck protruding, wishing I could lick it.

He fills me completely, his hips flush against my ass. I whimper as I feel him buried deep inside me, hitting a sensitive spot that turns my legs into jelly.

He begins guiding me in a gentle rhythm, slow and deliberate, determined to make this last. His thrusts are deep, intentionally angling down to hit the spot that he knows makes me see stars.

"You feel so fucking good, so deep," I praise him and he slightly picks up the pace.

My core tightens around him involuntarily and he hisses, his grip on my hip becoming almost painfully tight.

"Fuck, don't do that. I'll come too fast," He pulls back slightly, trying to steady himself.

"I don't care," I push back against him again, just wanting to feel him.

He curses under his breath, his hands firm on my hips to stop my movements. He pulls me up by my hair, my back against his chest now and I laugh maniacally before moaning at the fresh angle.

"Must you always be so defiant?" His breath is hot against my ear and I can't help the grin on my face. I love getting him riled up.

"I like it when you push me around," I admit, my voice dripping with playful challenge.

He releases his grip on my hair, and I catch myself on my hands, bracing for whatever comes next.

"Yeah? You like it when I'm rough?" He presses, his voice low and taunting.

"Mhm," I hum pressing my hips back again but he pulls out, leaving me feeling empty.

I go to whine in protest but I'm shut up with the hardest slap of the night, right on top of the red mark he left before.

I cry out and bury my face into the sheets again, but quiver with longing for more.

"That's what you wanted, right?" He continues to taunt and spanks me again but this time, on the other side.

I moan and go to rub my clit for some sort of relief but he grabs both my wrists, knocking me down further.

Another smack. I groan this time in frustration.

He gathers my wrists in one hand as I feel him lean over me. His hand sneaks around to find my neck as he presses his mouth against my ear.

"Are you just that fucking desperate?" He queries, his fingers pressing into my pulse points, just enough for my head to lighten.

"Please, Matt." I plea, but don't exactly know what I'm pleading for.

"What's the matter, baby, you can't handle it anymore? Thought you liked me pushing you around," He tuts.

His free hand lifts my hips before he teases my entrance with his tip and I let out a shaky breath.

"Hm? Nothing to say?" He pushes his tip in but pulls back and I whine at the teasing.

He releases my neck to brush my hair away so he can see the side of my face. A reminder that he's still the caring Matt I love.

"Just fuck me, please," I beg and he sighs deeply.

"You're so fucking lucky I love you,” he says through his teeth before he drives into me again in one swift motion.

Both of us moan in relief, the tension finally being broken.

He grinds his hips down into me teasingly and my eyes roll back at the intense, tight angle.

I feel his body heat leave my back as he straightens out behind me. Placing his hands on my lower back, he leans forward causing my back to arch before slamming into me. Again and again and again.

Each breath is knocked out of me, and each blow is deeper than the last, discovering a new spot inside of me and pushing me closer and closer to the edge. His pace quickens with every approving sound I make, answering me with his own moans of approval.

He turns me onto my back, staying inside me, wrapping my leg around his waist before leaning forward to kiss me slowly.

"Mm, missed your face," he admits softly, his thrusts starting off slow but steadily increasing momentum. "Wanna see that pretty face when I make you come," he coos, and I shriek at a particularly hard thrust that sends me further up the bed.

He watches my face the entire time, studying every furrow, every eye roll, mirroring my expressions as if he can feel everything he is doing to me.

I can tell he's trying to distract himself, to last longer, slowing down to kiss me and then picking up the pace.

My second orgasm build-up is slower and more subtle. It almost comes out of nowhere, but he knows my body so well. He reaches down to stimulate my clit, deepening his strokes, driving me to the brink.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh-" My back arches, and my ears ring as my orgasm rips me apart.

"Good girl, fucking come for me–oh fuck. I'm coming–I'm gonna come. W-where do you want me to-" He rushes out, as my pussy continues to spasm around him.

Through my haze, I push my heels into his hips and grab the back of his neck.

"I-inside, come inside me," I pant and he shudders, whimpering.

"Oh my–fucking, fuck," He strains as he comes and I moan at the feeling of him filling me up.

He pushes as deep as he can inside me, and the aftershocks of my orgasm milk him further causing him to hiss.

He collapses into my collarbone, his hair drenched in sweat as he takes a moment to regain strength.

I place a hand in his hair and scratch his back lightly as we settle into a steady breathing rhythm.

"Holy fuck," he says eventually into my neck, laughing a little and I giggle too.

"Wait, wait don't laugh-" He pulls away with his face scrunched and I realize he's still inside me.

He hisses again in sensitivity, looking down at where we're connected before pulling out of me carefully. I whimper at the feeling and he softly apologizes.

I feel his come leak out of me and I watch his expression falter for a second as he notices the sight.

"Fuck me," he says under his breath, shaking his head and I bite my lip to stop myself from giggling.

I slowly reach my hand down to play with myself and his eyes widen as he quickly grabs my hand to stop me.

"Are you trying to kill me tonight? No, I'm cleaning you up and we're going to bed. Stay right there, don't fucking move." He gets up, pointing at me as he walks away.

I cover my mouth and laugh at his reaction. He comes back with a wet washcloth, using it to wipe me carefully.

He huffs out again, shaking his head and I give him a knowing look.

"Devil woman, don't look at me like that." He tries to sound stern, but his voice cracks with nerves.

"I love you," I tell him, meaning it. His eyes soften and he leans over me, a hand on either side of my head. He scans my face, a soft smile carves into his face before he leans down to kiss me.

"We really need our own place," he says when he pulls back and my stomach flips.

"What was that?" I ask him with wide eyes.

"I said we really need a shower, c'mon," He lies, laughing as he tries to pull me up but I'm tugging him back towards me.

'Hey, get back here. That's not what you said," I laugh at his antics but he runs away towards the bathroom before I hear him call back.

"I plead the fifth!"

[rosenclaws]

rainy days | Leopold Mountbatten x reader

summary: You run a small bookshop and expect a slow day when a storm rages through New York, until a very handsome stranger walks through your doors.

a/n: I watched Kate and Leopold and I am certifiably obsessed and totally normal. I apologize if any of his dialogue sounds off I'm not used to writing the way he talks. Anyways please indulge my new obsession and I hope you all like it!!

part 2

You sigh as you listen to the rain hit the windows of your little book shop. A hot cup of tea is sitting by your side as you flip through one of your books. You love your bookshop but today is definitely a slow one.

Though you do see people hustle past with their umbrellas, clutching their bags and dressed too nice for the rain. So for now you settle down for a quiet day. That is until the little bell rings, a sign someone has ventured through the storm to your little shop.

"Hello, Welcome in!" You say cheerfully as you look up from your book.

Your eyes widen as you see a man, a very handsome man, standing in the entrance way. His clothes soaked by the rain. Still he looks as put together as ever as he stands tall at your door. You notice the weird clothes he's wearing. It almost looks like a costume. His wet hair sticks to his forehead and you wonder how he got stuck out here without an umbrella.

"Forgive me, I am still unfamiliar with my surroundings and I appear to have gotten lost." You clock his accent immediately, a tourist perhaps? Though he smiled kindly you could tell he was confused.

"It's no problem, here come in." You hurry around the counter.

He silently shivers as he tries to stay away from the many books you have around your store. Fearing that he may ruin them with how much water was dripping off him.

"I have a few towels upstairs if you don't mind waiting." You offer, taking pity on the man.

"Not at all." He bows slightly as you leave the room which you think is a little weird but polite nonetheless. You grab a towel and rummage through your drawers before finding a pair of sweatpants and an old hoodie an ex boyfriend had left a while ago.

"Okay, I have a towel and some clothes that I think will fit you..." You trail off as you look up and see that he has taken off his jacket as well as his shirt.

Your brain short circuits for a moment as he turns around and it takes everything you have not to gawk like a creep. Water drips down his chest as he shakes his head to try and rid some of the water from his hair.

He meets your eyes and you both share a look. You can only hold his gaze for a moment before looking down at the ground, attempting to save yourself from any more embarrassment. You hand him the towel and clothes and gain the courage to look him in the eyes again.

"I apologize profusely, I did not hear you come down." He quickly grabs the clothes and you cough awkwardly, stealing a look at his bare chest.

"Bathroom is down the hall, you can change in there." He thanks you again and leaves you alone.

Oogling strangers isn't exactly polite or great for business but god was he handsome. Handsome and polite and an accent? It's almost too much. You hear a loud rumbling of thunder and watch the sky grow darker. Looks like the storm isn't going away anytime soon. You hear the bathroom door open again and you quickly try to busy yourself, choosing to go back to your book.

"I must apologize again, It was highly inappropriate for me to be," His neck turning a slight shade of red as he scratches the back of his head. The clothes fit him and it's almost a crime how nice he looks in a shirt and sweatpants.

"In such a state of undress."

"It's okay, you were probably freezing in those clothes so.." You smile warmly which he reciprocates.

"I truly appreciate your kindness." He glances around your shop, admiring the collection of books on your shelves.

"So, are you a tourist?"

"Oh, I have yet to introduce myself how rude. My name is Leopold, I grew in England but moved to New York." So that explains the accent, the ridiculously charming accent.

"Well Leopold, it's nice to meet you." You introduce yourself and hold out your hand. Instead of shaking it he takes it and kisses your knuckles. You can't stop the smile that spreads across your face.

"What a beautiful name, Is this your store?"

"Yeah, I bought it a couple years ago and well, I'm still here. All my friends think I'm crazy for opening a bookshop but I love it."

"Books are a wonderful thing, as a child I relied on books to occupy my time. Such intricate and beautiful worlds created from words on a page at the tips of our fingers. I think it's a very noble profession." He speaks so eloquently, his eyes filled with passion.

You rarely meet a man who has such an appreciation for books. He notices the book sitting on the desk.

"May I?" You nod your head and he picks up the book.

"Alice's Adventures in Wonderland," He smiles fondly as he flips through the page.

"I picked up a copy myself when it released before I left England. I thought it was one of the most imaginative and fantastic stories I had ever read." He flips through the pages, admiring the colorful drawings that adorn your copy. Gently, he closes the book and sets it down.

"Though I must admit, I have a new found respect for the book myself." There's humor in his voice though you don't quite get the joke.

"When it came out?" You question. The book came out in the 1800's, unless he just means a new release.

"Yes, It was quite difficult to get my hands on one but I managed."

There's something more to this man for sure. Even the way he talks is unlike anything you've heard before. The pieces start to fit themselves together as you take notice of every oddity surrounding this man. The clothes, the way he speaks, claiming to have been 200 years ago.

"You're not from here are you Leopold? Like 21st century here " You ask, he seems surprised at your question. He's surprised that you aren't calling him a lunatic. He admires how quick you are to accept the unknown. It's admirable.

"Quite the perceptive one, smart and beautiful." He flashes a smile and you swear you almost melt on the spot. He doesn't deny your claim and it makes you want to know more.

"I must admit it is a long story but seeing as there appears to be no end to the rain, perhaps I could tell you." You lean on the counter and rest your chin on your hand. He mirrors you, his brown eyes not shying away from yours.

"Tea?" You ask playfully. He stands up and offers you his hand. A spark electrifies your whole body as your hands touch.

"It would be my honor."

[cameronsprincess]

— summary: kook princess. kook prince. perfect match, right? wrong. you hated rafe cameron and everything he stood for. and he hated you. so when your fathers spring it on the two of you that they’d arranged for the two of you to be married, both of your worlds are flipped upside down.

— CW: 18+ only !! cocaine use, alcohol consumption, sexual innuendo, strong language.

likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated <3

prev parts: one

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3 days later…

RAFE

“So.. Let me get this straight. Your dad, and Y/N’s dad, have formed some kind of plan to merge both companies.. And you have to marry Y/N for it to be the most successful?”

I snort. Leave it to Topper to have to go over the scenario a hundred fucking times before it finally clicks in his thick skull. I ignore him, grabbing the rolled up hundred dollar bill off the glass table and place it under my right nostril. Leaning forward, i place the other end of the rolled bill at the end of the perfectly formed white line, sniffing up the substance before dropping the bill and flopping back into the soft, white couch. Fuck, I love the burn this shit leaves behind. The way it makes my body tingle, clearing my mind of any bullshit I don’t want to think about.

Topper tries ruining my high again. “Rafe. C’mon man, we have to talk about this. What’re you going to do?”

I sit up, my eyes narrowed into thin slits at him. “There’s nothing to fucking talk about, Top. My dad and her dad have already signed our lives away. I’m supposed to marry the stuck up bitch in less than a month. I don’t want to think about it, so drop it.”

Topper groans, but thankfully, he drops the subject. I don’t know what he expects me to say. I don’t want to marry her. Marriage is the last thing I pictured myself ever doing, but even if I had decided to settle down one day, start a family, it sure as Hell wouldn’t have been her I chose. Y/N Y/L/N is the bane of my existence, and my polar opposite.

Where I like to have fun, and am riddled with issues from head to toe — thanks dad — she’s boring. She doesn’t get out, and she is issue free. Her family didn’t fuck her life up like mine did — well, until now I guess — and she doesn’t even want to change her ways. She’s stuck in the mindset of being the perfect princess. My dad always praised her when we were growing up. “Be more like Y/N, Rafe.” “Why can’t you act like Y/N? She’s a good girl.” and my favorite line “I wish I had Y/N as a daughter instead of you as my fuck up son”.

I shake the thoughts to the back of my mind. The last thing I want to do right now is think of fucking Y/N Y/L/N and the fact that come this weekend, the entire island will know we’re getting married. That’ll really fuck up my chances with getting any pussy before this wedding. That’s another thing. The girls still a fucking virgin. I mean, who the fuck is still a virgin at twenty-one years old? Y/N fucking Y/L/N, that’s who.

“You have to admit though, she is hot. And she’s a virgin, how longs it been since you fucked a virgin?” Top says, amusement lacing his tone as he lightly punches at my shoulder.

I roll my eyes. “She’s not fucking hot, Topper. She’s a bitch.”

Lie.

Y/N is a lot of things, but unattractive isn’t one of them. I would be lying to myself if I said she wasn’t fucking gorgeous. But I’ll never admit that out loud.

“C’mon Rafe. Lighten up. Maybe it won’t be so bad”

I bark out a laugh at that. It’s going to be fucking miserable. A loveless marriage. Handcuffs that I can’t break free from, even if I wanted to.

“Topper. Fucking drop it.”

He opens his mouth to speak but thankfully, Kelce comes barging through the front door. I quickly stand from the couch, making my way to my other best friend and mouthing a silent “thank you” to him for arriving when he did.

“Y’all ready?” Kelce asks, his eyes darting between Topper and I. Thankful for the intrusion and opportunity to drop this entire fucking subject, nod my head. “Let’s go”

-

The boys and I enter the Island Club. We come here quite often to just get drunk and forget about our shitty days. I am thankful for this tradition right about now. This whole marriage thing has had me stressed out for the last three days. I remember when Ward first came to me about it. He had told me that it was time for me to step up and do something good for the family.

“Son, a word?”

I roll my eyes, glancing at the girl laid beside me I tell her, “I’ll be right back”

My dad chuckles, his eyes glancing behind me and at the brunette that wears only my T-shirt and a pair of underwear. “Actually, you can get dressed and go. Rafe won’t be back up here until late tonight”

I roll my eyes, opening my mouth to protest, but my dad’s stern look has me quickly shutting my mouth. There’s never a point in arguing with Ward Cameron. He will win every single fucking time.

Turning to face Sofia, I give her a small smile. “Sorry, I’ll call you later”

She rolls her eyes but nods her head. She grabs her things from my floor before slipping on her white Nike tennis shoes and walking toward me. She positions all of her things in her left hand, her right palm pressed firmly against my chest as she leans up on her tiptoes and presses a long kiss to my lips.

My father clearing his throat has me pushing her back softly. “I’ll call you.” I say firmly. She turns and exits my room. Leaving me all alone with my dad.

“You won’t be calling her” He states.

My narrowed eyes find his. “And why is that?”

“Because, son. You’re about to step up and do something good for this family, and I won’t have you fucking it up by sleeping around with some bartender from the club.”

I scoff. “What’re you-” I begin to ask, but he cuts me off.

“You’re going to be marrying Y/N Y/L/N.” He says matter-of-factly.

“Rafe? You good bro?”

The sound of Kelce’s voice rips me from the memory. I slowly turn my head to face him, his dark brown eyes filled with slight concern.

Clearing my throat, I say, “Yeah. I’m good. Lets get fucking drunk”

Kelce and Topper nod their heads and begin making their way toward the bar. I follow them closely behind, but freeze in my tracks when I see her. Sofia. I never did call her, and it’s been three days since she was last in my room. I know she’s going freak out on me. If she doesn’t, i’ll be surprised.

I clear my throat and roll my neck before continuing my way up to the bar with my friends. I finally reach Kelce and Topper, they’re already ordering. “Rafe, whatcha drinking bro?” Kelce asks while looking behind his shoulder at me.

I open my mouth to speak but Sofia’s narrowed eyes landing on mine the second she hears my name has me clamping my mouth shut. I give her an awkward nod, debating on just leaving. That’s not who I am though, I don’t run away like a scared little bitch, so instead I order, “Whiskey. Neat.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’ll call me, huh? It’s been three days, Rafe. What the fuck?”

I hear Kelce and Topper snort out a laugh. I glare at the back of both their heads. I’m friends with fucking children. Turning my attention back to the short brunette, I sigh heavily. “Situations changed, Sofie.”

She scoffs at that. “Well, it would be nice to know that you had just planned on fucking me and never calling again. I wouldn’t have ever looked at you twice.”

Topper slings an arm around my shoulder. “I’m sure he would have called had he not found out later that day that’s he’s marrying Y/N Y/L-”

I throw my elbow into Topper’s side, making his arm fall from my shoulder as he groans in pain. “What the fuck was that for?” He demands.

I roll my eyes, and put my focus back on Sofia. “Look, like I said. Situations changed. I won’t apologize for not calling you, we never said it would be more than sex between us anyways”

Her mouth falls open and tears begin to well up in her chocolate brown eyes. I sigh. This is the thing about women. They always expect so much more than you’re willing to give. I never planned on having a relationship with Sofia, and she knows that. But now, I’m the bad guy because she was all but thrown out of my house and I never called.

She lifts her eyes toward the ceiling above her, blinking back her tears before her eyes find mine again. “Well, good to know. Let me get those drinks for you guys.”

I let out a deep exhale, turning to face Topper and Kelce. They both have shit eating grins on their faces. “What?” I snap.

Topper chuckles. “Nothing. You better hope she doesn’t spit in your drinks all night” He jokes.

I run a hand down my face. Tonight was supposed to help me unwind, not cause more fucking unwanted stress. “I never fed her lines of false hope, so I don’t know why she’s freaking the fuck out.”

Kelce chuckles this time, slapping a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t they all freak the fuck out when it comes to you? I mean c’mon Rafe. You can’t ever sleep with a girl without her expecting more.. I just hope you’re prepared for the long list that’s going to come for your throat when this engagement is announced.”

I sigh for what feels like the thousandth time tonight. He’s right. I have never been serious about any of the girls I slept with. They all wanted more, but every single time I felt they were getting to attached, I stopped calling or texting them. It was better that way. I didn’t want anything serious, and now, I’m being forced into something super serious. Fuck, my life really sucks doesn’t it?

“Here. Drink up, you need it.” I hear Kelce say. I turn to face him and he has his left hand extended toward me, my glass of whiskey in hand. I quickly snatch it from his grip and throw it back, downing the amber liquid in one gulp. Turning to face the bar, I slide the glass back toward Sofia. “Another.”

-

Two hours and multiple glasses of whiskey later, I’m drunk. The room sways a bit, and I reach my hand out to grip the patio railing. I hear Topper laugh from the right of me. “Dude, you’re fucking wasted.” He laughs out, placing his hand on my shoulder to help keep me upright.

“I- I am not wasted, Top. I’m just… Buzzed” I lie.

He opens his mouth to speak but he quickly slams it shut, the sound of his teeth clashing together has me turning my full attention on him. His brows are raised and his eyes look like they’re going to pop from his skull as he stares intently behind us.

“What the fuck are you looking at? You look like you’ve seen a fucking ghost.” I joke. But he doesn’t laugh, and that makes me nervous. Topper laughs at the dumbest shit, so for him to remain staring behind us with a look of pure shock in his eyes, it has me wondering what just happened.

My body sways to the side as I try to turn and face the direction he’s looking, but his hand on my shoulder has me stopping in place.

I narrow my blue — possibly bloodshot — eyes on him. “What the fuck, Top. Speak!”

He clears his throat. “I- Uh.. Y/N just walked in with some of her friends.”

That has my attention. I quickly turn my body, falling forward a bit but catching myself with the help of the railing again. She stands at the bar. And she looks fucking delicious right now. For a girl who has never taken it past kissing a man — if she’s even kissed a man — she sure knows how to dress the part of any other girl on this island. She wears a black, leather skirt that hugs her curves and ass nicely. A tight, white cropped top and a pair of black heels that add a few inches to her height. Her hair is up in a high ponytail, and all I can think of is wrapping my hand in it and pulling her head back as I fuck her from behind.

What the fuck? Why am I thinking of her like this? I fucking hate her. My soon to be wife. She’s a fucking stuck up, prude bitch. My mind tells me to stop staring, reminds me that I can’t fucking stand her. But my cock is screaming the complete opposite.

Without thinking, my legs begin to carry me toward her. I come to a stop right behind her, clearing my throat, causing her head to whip in my direction. The moment her eyes find mine, she’s rolling them. The act alone is fucking sexy. I picture her eyes rolling into the back of her head while my face is buried between her legs, devouring her sweet cunt. Fuck. Stop thinking of her like this Rafe, you’re just drunk, and horny. Any girl would do, but for some fucking reason, my mind is consumed with her.

“What the fuck do you want, Rafe” She sighs.

I smirk at the anger that radiates from her. “Just coming to say- just coming to say hey to my future wifeeee.” I slur. She rolls her eyes as they find mine again.

“You said hey, now run along. We don’t need to pretend to like each other right now.”

Maybe it’s just because I’m drunk, but her words stung. She really hates me doesn’t she? I mean, I hate her too. Don’t I? Yes, Rafe. She’s a stuck up bitch who acts like she’s better than everyone. But my drunken mind has me sighing as I say, “You really don’t like me, baby?”

Her body stiffens, eyes wide as she stares back at me. “I- Don’t call me that.”

I smirk. I have her worked up. Reaching out my left hand, I push a few strands of hair behind her ear before I run my fingers down the side of her face. She sucks in a shaky breath and flinches away from my touch.

“Rafe… Please just let me have a night out with my friends. In two days, we’re announcing to the entire island that we’re getting married, and I’d like to live the last two days of my life without you around… Lord knows I’m about to be stuck with you.”

My eyes narrow and I take a step toward her. You’re drunk, Rafe. Keep your cool. My large hands reach for her face, cupping her cheeks as I lower my face closer to hers. I don’t miss the way her chest rises and falls rapidly from my close proximity. She’s nervous. It’s going to be so much fun having her all to myself. Even if I hate her, pussy is pussy. And this is pussy that’s never been touched. She’s all mine to play with. To fuck. To break. To train. She’ll be my own personal whore by the time I’m done with her.

My glassy, blue eyes search her face. I half expect her to shove me away, and I’m so drunk I wouldn’t be able to fight back on it. But she doesn’t. Instead, her eyes find mine. That’s it, be strong baby girl. I like the tough girl act.

“Baby, you’re going to be crawling on your hands and knees begging for me to touch you. To kiss you. To please you. You can act like you hate me now, Lord knows I can’t stand you. But even I can admit, you’re fucking gorgeous. And I know you find me somewhat attractive.” I pause, placing my lips on the sensitive skin of her neck and leaving soft kisses, making her hiss in a breath. “I know this isn’t what either one of us wanted, but we have no choice… Why not enjoy the game?”

Her beautiful eyes narrow into slits and her lips thin. She blinks a few times before slapping my hands from her face. I stumble back a little, but catch myself on the bar, giving her a slow smirk.

“Fuck you, Rafe!” She hisses before grabbing her purse and storming off to the locker rooms.

I smile to myself as I watch her storm off. She’s mad now, but I meant what I said. She’ll be begging for more after I finally touch her. She can pretend now, and I’m not saying I’m falling for her. But Topper was right. She’s hot. Might as well enjoy the game and the perks, right? Letting out a small laugh, I turn and make my way back toward my friends, adjusting my hard cock that’s straining against my pants in the process. This is going to be fun.

RAFE TAGLIST: @rafeism @thelomlisrafecameron @rafegirly @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @abbybarnesstuff @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @yourfavborderhopper @moremaybank @rafetopia @rafemotherfuckingcameron @jade-is-jaded @lexasaurs634 @anqeliclust @presleyanswrites @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @sugarcoatedstarkey @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @stvrkey @vhour @emma77645 @rafeinterlude @superlegend216 @mannstarkey @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @atorturedpoetx @carolinaxvz @maybankslover @cantstoptherecs @pradabambie @slut4ani @biggesthat3r @wearemadeofstardust @sylverdragon

[heartfullofleeches]

What would happen if fast food reader tried to quit?

"I quit!"

Fourty minutes in - that's a new record. You're in the middle of a transition with a customer when the newest in a line of new hires comes storming from the back, apron and badge on hand.

"In the single hour I've worked here I've been yelled at till my ears bled, pelted with plastic balls, saw my reflection drown itself in the toilets, and had my wallet and keys stolen."

"I'd say you had an okay start...." You pause for a moment, centered on the task at hand. ".....So will that be cash or card?"

Your coworker stares at you like you've grown antlers which probably wouldn't be the weirdest thing they've seen, but still up there in rankings.

"You're staying?!"

"I can't quit."

Pity flashes briefly in their eyes. "Being jobless is better than whatever this is, but I'm sure there's something else out there."

"You don't understand. I literally can't quit."

Your ex-coworker scoffs. "I know the job market is pretty rough these days, but come on..."

Sighing heavily, you carefully remove your apron- folding and setting at atop the counter along with your hat and badge. Glancing apologetically at the customer, you mutter.

"I quit."

Really, it only took the first syllable for what happened next, but it felt weird not to finish the sentence.

The entrace doors swing to a loud shut. Music playing over the speakers descends into static. Caution tape peals and tears from the walls as management's door pries it from position. Darkness oozes from the cracks as a body presses against the frame. A hand reaches out - pointing behind you.

"So!"

Your ex-coworker and the customer scream. You look over your shoulder at your manager's grinning face as they grip your shoulders.

"Please don't touch me."

Your manager laughs. "Oh, you and your silly jokes. So, I hear someone isn't having the best time. Your little friend is free to go, but you are a valued member of our team, Y/n. Anything we can do to make you stay?"

"No."

Your manager hands their head in sadness, immediately perking back up as they remove their touch from your shoulders. "I see..... Well! We'll all miss you dearly, but we respect your decision. Allow us to give you a portion of your severance in hand as thanks for your service."

"Please don't."

"Lambchop!"

The lights flicker as the freezer door slams into the adjacent wall. They continue to flicker with every heavy click of hooves on titled floors. The hulking figure ducks beneath menu signs, narrowly missing its curving horns getting stuck as it rises to full high. The reds of it beady eyes cast you in eerie glow as it stares - pupils shrunk as it turns. It seems to blink away tears as it snorts.

In a flash, the store mascot picks your ex-coworker by the throat and slams them to down on the counter. It reaches for its belt, sorting the sharpest cleaver of its artillery and sporting it against its prey's neck. Your coworker shrieks and flails, ceasing all movement as warm blood runs down their neck. As your eyes meet, you remain perfectly calm - brows raised in a sort of "I told you so look".

They pathetically beat at the goat demon's arm. "What the fuck.... what the fuck?!"

Your manager clicks their tongue. "I do apologize, but it's in their contract. Money is important, but we value something more here. As payment for self-termination from our team, Y/n here is to receive the beating hearts of everyone in the building in loo of breaking our own unless... they've changed their mind."

You shrug. "Long as you're still cool with my taking cash from the registers."

"Wonderful! Lambchop, could you please let the spoiled meat go? I'm afraid they won't be any good trying to posion our dear Y/n like that and I doubt they'll even make it out of the parking lot."

Your coworker scrambles for the door as soon as they're freed. Their blood, which you refuse to clean, paints the front door seconds later. Your manager sighs.

"Now that that's out of the way, please see to comforting Lambchop. You know how they get when you threaten to leave."

You look over at the mascot would bleats softly as they knock their head gently against the side of yours. You pet their horns as you throw your hat back on.

"Come on, Choppy. You can feed me fries in the breakroom."

Lambchop throws you over their shoulder and heads for the back as your manager takes their leave as well - leaving the customer alone in the main lobby.

"They... never gave back my card."

[mellosdrawings]

i love the n2 squad 🙇🏻‍♀️ please spare any angst crumbs if you have some

"I love the n2 squad, please make them suffer <3" Sorry that made me cackle xD Same tho

Angst 1:

Jamil is obviously very self conscious about his position compared to Leona and Vil. No matter what he stays stuck in his own mind about being a servant while they are (basically) royalty, being only vice Housewarden while they are Housewardens, being in second year while they are in third year, etc. He's seen with his own two eyes what Vil and Leona are capable of too.

He's not self-deprecating so much as he is frustrated. He wants to be worthy of them, he knows he can hold his own beside them. But he's still very self conscious and he hates it.

It comes in little things, but one of the scenario I've thought about is "kneeling" (no, not that kind, perverts /jk). Vil, while being the most perfect goddess ever, isn't actual royalty, and Jamil has knelt for him a few times while dancing and caring for his feet after wearing new heels for too long. With Leona though? Nope. He completely blocks. Just the thought makes him resent himself and Leona. But also Leona despises how obviously Jamil treats him and Vil differently.

(How do they resolve that? Well first they talk it out despite both being wound up. Vil acts as mediator.

And then Leona shocks everybody by kneeling to Jamil. He tries to even things out even though he can't change their situation. Yet. Because in truth he's such a sap that his very first thoughts about marrying his boyfriends happen here. He can even things out.)

(“Do you want a massage ?”

Leona and Vil’s attention crash on him with a weight that sends Jamil off balance. “What ?” he asks.

“You wish to massage my feet ?”

And Jamil realizes the implications of what he just said. There are massages and there is kneeling at one’s feet to attend to them. And Jamil has sworn to himself that he would never kneel again, that he would find a way to get back on his feet to stand as high and proud as Kalim, that no matter what he would never fake submission again.

It’s not fake here. Submission ? Maybe. Worship ? Definitely. But it’s not fake. Jamil would gladly go down on his knees for Vil, any and every time without a second thought, without shame. Because Vil wouldn't ask that of him. Vil doesn't need to belittle anyone to be able to stand over them, Vil would never belittle Jamil like that.

So Jamil goes down on his knees and lays a hand on Vil’s calf. “It’s alright,” he reassures them, and for once he means it. “Here.”

Vil only hesitates a couple more seconds before he gives one foot to Jamil.

While his hands work the blood flow inside Vil’s feet and calves, he takes a side look at the heels. They are brand new, Jamil sees, not even a single sign of wear on the soles. They have cut into Vil’s heels a bit so Jamil avoids the area and mentally notes to check into the bathroom for a first aid kit.

Vil sighs, melts into his seat, and Jamil smiles to himself.

And then Leona huffs. And it doesn't sound like a good thing.

Even Vil redresses in his seat to send an inquisitive glance at him. Leona just shakes a lazy hand toward them and turns on the bed for a nap. “Ignore him,” Vil says to Jamil. “He’s being petty.”

“Why, do you want a massage too ?”

Leona snarks a sardonic laugh. “As if you’d drop on your knees for me.”

And…

Jamil wouldn't. His hands halt on Vil’s feet. Jamil doesn't think he could kneel for Leona like he does for Vil, at least not without feeling resentful. The last thing Jamil wants is to find any reason to resent Leona. But things as they are, Leona’s status reminds him too much of the Asim.

He could kneel for Vil without feeling ashamed of himself. That man was no man, but a deity descended to earth in the form of the most gracious and beautiful being they could find. He has hordes of people willing to stand in lines for a second of his time, helpers all around him adjusting his clothes and makeup and hair. He worked hard to end where he is.

Leona is a prince. Born into royalty, possessing servants, and any time Jamil thinks too hard about them he’s unnerved.

Of course he loves Leona. Of course he’d do almost anything for him. But Jamil has been conditioned to serve and Leona is used to be served and Jamil just can’t.

He can’t.)

(Drabble I've had in my drafts for a while.)

Angst 2:

Another LeoJami but it's just too easy to imagine them at odds.

The first few months are... difficult, to say the least. Because while Jamil is very good at forethought, he's also used to have a very open and talkative ward. Leona though seems to be unable to express himself properly, barely saying a word, talking in riddles, etc.

Of course Jamil explodes at some point. "Can't you just be clear for once?! Do I have to play mind games whenever I talk with you?!"

Oh, but it's not just between those two. As I've once said, communication is a pretty difficult thing for them all. Vil isn't faring any better. He does keep things to himself far too much until he reaches breaking point, keeps his hardships from the other two until they have to physically restrain him into bed so he can take a break and talk to them.

(“Why are you kissing me ?”

Jamil thinks Leona has fallen asleep once more until the man finally moves, just enough to show his face to Jamil without actually releasing him.

He looks positively unimpressed.

“You are very slow on the uptake, Viper. Not the first time I guess.”

Jamil feels like punching him. Is that a quip about how long it took him to understand Leona's intentions back in Tartarus ?

“Contrary to popular belief, I cannot read people's minds,” Jamil says with gritted teeth. He's just good at guessing what Kalim wants from him since they have done it for so long, and people started thinking that's just a thing he does with everybody.)

(Short excerpt from my LeoJami fic)

Angst 3:

Also, for a few weeks after they start dating, Jamil is... very confused about Leona and Vil's flirting. When he talks like that to other, it's certainly not because he likes them, so it just sounds like they are fighting to him. It makes him a bit anxious for a while before he eases into the relationship and gets used to their love language and banters.

Plus, in my own headcanon Leona and Vil have been something for some time now, so Jamil also has the fun ordeal of carving his place into the relationship. Try to be with them and not with them. Leona and Vil have to learn to change their habits to make some place for Jamil, while Jamil has to assert himself. It... becomes angsty really fast until they are forced to tackle this issue.

(Jamil has never felt more awkward.

He’s in the back with Vil, Leona acting as their personal chauffeur, holding a manicured hand in his like it is the most natural thing in the world. And he feels awkward.

Vil and Leona have been bickering (flirting) ever since they got in the car and Jamil just doesn't know what he’s supposed to do. They have a snark in their flirting that Jamil could never reciprocate. He’s been bitchy with Leona a few times but that hadn't been flirting at all then. Leona just got on his nerves and Jamil had to exteriorize his annoyance somehow, it’s been in the form of arrogant remarks and biting threats that never once deterred Leona.

And he won’t even try with Vil. There’s no way he’s baring his fangs at him, even for a flirt or a joke.

So here he is, listening to a flirting Vil and Leona must have honed for years, and he feels like a complete stranger. He might as well not be here, he’s not even sure Vil and Leona would realize if he vaporized into dust.

It's not the first time he feels like that in only a week. Vil and Leona are assertive, Jamil is not. Vil and Leona have history. Jamil is brand new. Vil and Leona have their habits. And Jamil… well, his habits are to stay quiet to the side until the big shots ask something from him.

Jamil isn't complaining. They have been nothing but fantastic all week with him, Jamil must have reached the gates of heaven and been allowed in to enjoy such wonders. He wouldn't trade that for anything.

But… At times it feels like it's only Vil and Leona, and Jamil doesn't know how to dance around that. He's not sure if he should carve his way into their walls until he is completely nestled and they couldn't possibly remove him, or whether he should let them be just Vil-and-Leona, even when Jamil is around.)

(Drabble I've had in my drafts for a while)

Angst 4:

No, actually I'll keep this one for later 😏 Just know it involves a STYX rewrite with @aria-faye and it is veeeeery angsty (and soft. And angsty. And soft. And very angsty)

(Sneak brainstorm arts from the project fufufu)

[nastybuckybarnes]

Mouse Trap

Pairing: Ghost X Reader

Summary: Ghost's little mouse finds herself stuck in a trap. Who better to save her?

Warnings: Violence, Language, Angst, Fluff, kinda unhinged Ghost?, Torture ig, murder, Injuries, self-hate kinda i guess

Word Count: 2.5k

A/n: I'm literally in love with this little series, i think it will forever have a special place in my heart

~*~

Days go by since Ghost last saw you, since he fucked you, and the skulls seem to disappear once again.

His little street mouse has disappeared without a trace.

Ghost is a man of logic. A man who can use the information at hand to come to the most realistic conclusion.

And, in this case, you've realized what a fucking nutcase he is and have decided you never want to see him again.

I mean, what else could it be?

His sour mood is taken out on anyone and everyone unfortunate enough to get in his way.

And today is no different.

His brows are permanently furrowed and his grip on his riffle is unwavering as he and Soap do their rounds.

The Scot is quiet for a long while before deciding to try and poke the bear.

"Still nothin from yer mouse?" He asks, knowing damn well the answer.

Ghost says nothing, doesn't even address the fact that the man has spoken.

"You ever think of... lookin for her? I mean, she doesn't exactly spend time in the safest areas," he presses.

If Soap hadn't spent as much time with the bigger man as he has, he wouldn't have noticed the slight falter in Ghost's steps.

Sure, he'd looked for you, but the idea of you being hurt or even killed wasn't one he entertained.

In his mind, no one would be stupid enough to touch what's his, but people have certainly tried before.

His world shifts slightly, the tension in his shoulders changing. He's no longer worried that you're hiding from him, no. Now he's wondering who would take you and where they'd hide you.

Those are the thoughts that occupy his every waking moment for days, until he finally gets his answer.

While combing the streets for any sign of you -or the hostiles he's supposed to be looking for- there's a gift from God.

On the ground, in what looks alarmingly close to blood, is a skull drawing. And a trail of the same blood-like substance leads him better than breadcrumbs.

"Soap, on my six," he murmurs into his radio, carefully following the blood trail as it leads deeper into the city, into enemy territory.

Soap is quick to meet up with the Lieutenant, eyes and ears peeled as Ghost comes to a halt outside of an old office building.

"Wha're we doin' here, Lt?" He asks quietly, watching his back as Ghost picks the lock.

"Savin' my mouse."

The lock opens with a soft 'click' and he shoulders the door open, staying low and scanning the first room quickly.

He motions for Soap to follow and the Scot does, sticking close as the slowly sweep room after room.

As they go up the stairs, Ghost slows, tilting his head to the side as he hears the sound of muffled voices not far away.

He follows the sound, being extra careful as the voice gets louder and louder, until he can make out the words.

His stomach drops the tiniest bit as they approach the third floor.

He's done this countless times, this should be no different.

But it is different.

You're in there. He has no room for error. Not when your life could be on the line.

A man is speaking, and Ghost takes that as his cue to creep into the hallway.

Soap grabs his shoulder, giving him a strong look.

"This could be a trap. We should call the rest of the team."

The skull-faced man only stares at him for a long while then tugs out of his grip.

"S'not a trap, Johnny. She's in there. You wanna leave, go. M'not leavin without her." With that, he turns back to the hallway and moves forward.

Though he has his doubts, Soap follows closely behind, staying silent as the voice gets louder.

Other sounds are able to be heard now, too. These ones confirming Ghost's suspicions.

Feminine grunts, groans, and cries of pain.

At the sound of your voice, a switch flips inside of the large man and he's quickly and silently moving forward, taking down any hostiles in his path. Anyone that stands between him and you is promptly killed, dropping to the ground with quiet 'thud's.

The man that's been torturing you drops his knife onto the table and yanks your head back by your hair, forcing you to look at him again.

"I'm gonna ask you one last time, doll face: who sent you?"

Your eyes roll in your head for a moment before finally focusing on him.

It's been several days of this, if not longer, and you're starting to worry that your Ghost, that Simon, isn't coming for you.

You still stay strong, saying nothing.

This only seems to aggravate him further. He drops your head and walks back over to his table of torture toys, looking for something suitable for what he has planned for you.

Your eyes flutter to a movement in the doorway of the room, and you feel your heart fill with hope as one of the guards gets yanked into the hallway.

Familiar eyes peer into the room, immediately locking on yours, and you feel safe.

He's here. He came for you.

You knew he would.

He presses a finger to his lips, urging you to stay silent, and you give him a soft nod of understanding. Your eyes flutter back to your kidnapper, and you watch as he picks up a pair of pliers.

He clicks them together a few times then turns to face you, a wicked grin on his face.

"If you're not going to use that tongue, there's no sense in having it, is there?" He asks rhetorically.

He steps forward, grabbing your jaw roughly, and then he's collapsing on top of you, his blood spilling across your face.

You let out a startled scream, jerking your head back as he rolls onto the floor.

The room is suddenly filled with chaos.

A gun is pressed to your head, and Ghost has another man in a headlock, his eyes on yours.

"Keep those eyes on me, Mouse," he orders, making sure your gaze is locked on his as he snaps the mans neck.

"Don't come any closer!" The man holding the gun to your head warns, pressing it against you harder.

You wince but your eyes never leave Ghosts. Not even when he produces a small blade and whips it at the man beside you.

Ghost steps toward him as he writhes on the ground, yanking him up by the collar of his shirt and ripping the blade out of his eye socket.

"That's for lookin' at her. Imagine what m'gonna do to you for touchin' her," he snarls, big hand nearly crushing the man's windpipe.

You stare at them as Soap comes to your aid, freeing you from the rope binding you to the chair.

"Maybe, if you apologize nice and proper, I'll let you live," Ghost whispers, his eyes empty and hard as he looks at the man.

"Look at her with your good eye and tell her how sorry you are."

The man's head whips around to you and he stutters out an apology.

"Now, tell me how sorry you are."

He turns back to Ghost with his mouth open to apologize and you flinch as another gunshot rings out, and then he's crumpling to the floor in a heap, blood pouring from both eyes.

You stare at his corpse, at the dead man who threatened your life, then slowly bring your eyes up as the man who saved you approaches.

"How's she lookin', Johnny?" He asks, crouching down in front of you as Soap presses some gauze to your thigh tightly.

You whine at the pain, and Ghost gives one of your hands a squeeze.

"Not great. Bleedin' real heavy. We can drop her off at one of the med tents and-"

"Not happenin'," Ghost interupts.

He pulls you from the chair and carefully lays you on the floor, working with Soap to try and slow the bleeding as much as possible.

Your head spins as the adrenaline slowly leaves you, and you lift a hand in search of your big soldier.

"Simon," you whisper, vision going blurry.

Soap's eyes shoot up to you, shocked that you know the Lieutenant's real name. He can't help but wonder what exactly would happen when Ghost would go on patrol alone. How many nights were spent with you if he's trusted you with his name.

Ghost grabs your hand in an instant, his eyes over yours.

"M'here, Mouse."

Your bottom lip quivers and tears streak down your temples into your hair.

"Tired... so tired," you whisper.

He shoots Soap a worried look then gives your hand another squeeze.

"I know, but you can't sleep yet, Mouse. We'll stop for a coffee on our way back to base, how's that sound?"

You frown, edges of your vision slowly going dark.

"Simon," you whisper once more, pushing your hand up to dust over his masked face.

Soap watches, eyes full of wonder as Ghost, the man who just murdered over a dozen people, is soft and gentle with you.

Your fingers smooth over his masked lips, and then your hand is tumbling down beside your head and your eyes are falling closed.

"No, none of that. Eyes on me, Mouse. On me."

You try, you really do, but you just need a moment to rest. That's all. Just one moment.

~*~

You're in and out of consciousness from that moment forward, finally fully coming to in a dimly lit room.

You're groggy and confused, blinking several times to get the fog clouding your vision to go away.

When things finally clear up, your heart jumps in your chest and you look around frantically.

This isn't familiar.

None of this is.

"Easy, Mouse. You're safe. M'here."

Except that.

Your eyes dart over to the source of the sound, finding those familiar piercing eyes.

Instinctively, you relax and reach for him, stopping with a hiss when something tugs at your arm.

"Easy, love," Ghost murmurs, reaching out and taking your hand in both of his.

Tears well up in your eyes and you look away from him, shaking your head.

"'S'alright, little one. M'here. Not goin' anywhere anytime soon."

It's true. He has no intention of leaving your side until you allow it. Something he has made explicitly clear to the members of his team.

You look up at him with big teary eyes and his icy heart cracks in his chest.

"Don't make me go. Not back to city, please," you beg quietly.

His gaze softens and he shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut for a brief moment before tugging his mask up over his lips and leaning down to kiss your knuckles.

"You're not going back there. Not if I have any say in it."

Your breaths start coming in faster, more shallow, until you're hyperventalating, one hand grasping at the gown on your chest.

Everything is too much. Too constricting, too enclosed.

You can't breathe.

"Hey, hey! Eyes on me."

You obey, your eyes finding his once more, and he nods encouragingly.

He brings your hand to his chest, flattens it against the thin shirt, and you can feel his heart beating against your palm.

"I want you to breathe with me, Mouse. In... and out."

You slowly copy him, slowing your breathing to match his and keeping your hand against his warm chest the entire time.

Eventually, the feeling of his skin only one layer away is too distracting. You slide your fingers up to the small area of skin between his shirt and his balaclava, stroking it gently.

Your breath hitches at the feeling of his flesh against yours, and you lean toward him, desperate to feel more of him.

He leans forward and takes your other hand in his and you stare in awe, pressing your palm against his. His hands are rough, calloused and hardened, but they feel so good, so right against yours.

You slide your fingers up his forearm, tracing the scars, veins and tattoos while your other hand wraps around the back of his neck, slipping under the back of his balaclava and tangling into his hair.

"Simon," you whisper, tugging him closer by the nape of his neck.

He leans in, scarred lips tilting up in a soft smile at the sound of his name on your tongue.

He presses his forehead to yours, his eyes falling closed a moment after yours.

Carefully, he nudges his nose against yours, then tilts his head to slot his lips against yours.

You kiss him back softly, tugging away after a moment and drawing your brows together.

"What?" He asks softly, his free hand coming up to stroke your cheek.

"Where do I stay? Here?"

He shakes his head, pulling back a bit more after pressing one more kiss to your mouth.

"You'll stay with me. Unless you'd prefer your own room."

You're shaking your head before he's finished speaking, and he nods knowingly.

"Then you'll stay with me. We should only be here a few months longer. Then you can come home with me, if you'd like."

He'd be lying if he said he hasn't given much thought to the future. But after this? After nearly losing you before he truly got to have you? He's not willing to let you leave his side.

You only nod, eyes full of awe and adoration.

He gives you one more kiss, then gets up to get a med officer to check on you.

~*~

You spend a few days in the medical wing, and then, once you're given the go-ahead (under the ever-watchful eye of Ghost), you're changing into military-grade pants and a black t-shirt, and sitting patiently while Ghost laces up your boots.

"We match," you say proudly, beaming up at him when he rises to his full height.

He grins down at you through his mask, his eyes crinkling around the corners, and presses his forehead against yours sweetly.

"That we do, Mouse. Now, lets get you on your feet again."

He takes your hands and gently helps you to your feet, steadying you when you try to put weight onto your injured leg.

Your face screws up in pain, but you push through it, taking a few careful steps with his help.

"You sure you're ready?" He asks warily, watching you intently until you glare at him from the corner of your eye.

"Ready. Want to leave."

He nods, wrapping an arm around your waist and all but lifting you off the ground every time you try to step with your injured leg.

He leads you through the base, his glare sharp enough to have the onlookers scurrying out of sight.

Ever since he brought you back, bloody and wounded in his arms, you've been the talk of the base.

Who are you? Why does the Lieutenant like you so much? Can you be trusted?

That last question has plagued even some of his closest friends.

But as he helps you to the barracks, you lean further into him, you trust him at your most vulnerable, and he knows deep in his soul that you are someone he can trust.

Finally, after what feels like forever, he unlocks the door to his quarters and pushes it open.

The trek took far more energy than you'd like to admit, and you eagerly take a seat at the desk against the wall.

"You hungry?" He asks after a moment of silence, watching you as you look around curiously.

You nod, glancing up at him when he takes a step to the door.

"I'll be back in a minute. Try not to get into any trouble while I'm gone." He can't help but grin when you cross your arms over your chest.

Without another word, he exits the room, leaving you alone to explore.

You do exactly that, carefully taking in your surroundings.

There's a bed, a real bed, against the far wall. Across from that is a small wardrobe.

On the opposite side of the room is a door, and you find yourself limping over to it curiously.

You push it open and flick on the light, your eyes widening when you see the bathroom.

A proper bathroom, with running water that probably gets warm.

You turn the faucet on, watching in awe as it takes only a few moments for steam to start billowing. Your eyes follow the steam until they meet your own reflection in the mirror.

An audible gasp leaves your lips, and you lean forward, staring in a combination of disgust and horror.

You've seen your reflection since hiding out, but never quite so clearly.

The stitches at your hairline are crusted with blood, and you have bruises all over your face. Dark splotches that paint your skin in a way that makes your stomach churn.

How could Simon stand to look at you like this?

You splash some of the water on your face, hissing when it's a little bit too hot. Not a problem you thought you'd ever have.

Turning it down, you wait unti lit cools slightly to try and scrub your face clean, to make yourself more presentable for him, to look pretty.

No matter how hard you try, however, you can't clean the evidence of the torture from your face.

Hot tears streak down your cheeks and you turn your back on your reflection, angry that you ever dared to look at yourself.

At least before, you didn't know what you looked like. You didn't know what your Ghost had to look at, to touch, kiss.

"Mouse?"

You sniffle and wipe your cheeks quickly at the sound of his voice, opening the bathroom door a crack.

He takes one look at your face, at your red eyes and tear-stained cheeks, and he's pushing his way into the bathroom and inspecting you for injuries.

"What happened?"

You shake your head and tug on his balaclava gently.

"I want one."

His brows furrow and you can almost see the gears in his head trying to process what's going on.

"What?"

"Please. Want one... like Ghost."

He cups your cheek gently, big warm hand soothing your aching skin.

"Why? I like seeing your pretty face. Dont want you to cover it up if you don't need to."

This makes you tear up once more and you tug out of his grip, turning your back to him and hiding your face in your hands.

"Need to," you whisper thickly, "not pretty. Not now."

He's appalled by your words, stepping in front of you and gently pulling your hands away from your face.

"Where'd you get an idea like that?"

You sniffle and shake your head, avoiding his eyes.

"Broken... ugly..." Your eyes catch your reflection in the mirror and you glare at what you see, your bottom lip quivering as you try to hold back your tears.

A surprising rush of emotions floods him and he takes a few moments to breathe and steady himself.

He's not used to this whole softness thing. Not great at it, either.

"You think I'm ugly? I've got more bumps and bruises than you can count, little one. Scars, too. Does that make me ugly? Should I forever keep my face hidden from you?"

You frown up at him and shake your head quickly.

He could never be ugly, not to you.

"Then why are you any different? I see these," he strokes the mark on your cheek gently, "and it makes me want to protect you. It reminds me that you're fragile. Delicate. It makes me angry that someone would put their fucking hands on you, but thats it."

He pulls you into his arms and lays a few kisses on the top of your head.

"You're precious, Mouse. So very special, and so beautiful. M'more than happy to prove it to you if you don' believe me."

His voice drops a bit lower, as do his kisses, and you can't stop the smile that tugs at the corner of your mouth.

"There she is, there's my pretty girl," he whispers, kissing your lips briefly then pulling back once more.

"Now, you need to eat something and I need to debrief with Price. Rest while I'm gone, because you're not gonna be doing much sleeping when I get back."

[mischievousmoony]

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚎

𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸 ⟡ 𝚓𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜' 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕

⟢ james potter x fem!reader

⟢ summary: modern restaurant au; after training with james for a few weeks, people have started calling you his . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁1.3k

⟢ warnings/tags: coworker!james, coworker!marauders, slightly anxious!reader, not proofread

⟢ the new hire masterlist ⟡ main masterlist

note: i hate seafood but i keep putting it on my fictional restaurants menu ? kept this one pretty simple so i could get it out there <3

"Crab cakes, go." James says, eyes darting up from the menu he's holding to look at you from across the rickety staff room table.

You don't miss a beat, describing the dish as you would to a customer, "The crab cakes are one of our most popular appetizers. They're pan seared and served with sofrito escabeche, a zesty blend of onions, bell peppers, and tomatoes—so I highly recommend them if you're looking for something tangy—and they have a to die for berbere aioli drizzle."

"Tell me more about the berbere aioli. What is that?" James questions, playing the part of a curious customer.

"The berbere aioli is a spicy-chili sauce that I'd say is just shy of medium in terms of spice level. It complements the crab cakes really well, but you could always order it on the side if you're not too sure about it."

"That's my girl," James praises, "You're a quick learner, you know that?"

"I don't know about that," you protest, looking down at your hands that lay politely folded on the table in front of you. You try to mentally will yourself not to blush at James' approval.

"It's barely over a week since you started and you know this thing like the back of your hand," James argues, gently tossing the menu down as he leans back in his chair, "And there's so little time to sit and study here."

You have a funny look on your face when you meet James' eyes again, eliciting a gasp from him.

"You've been studying the menu outside of work, haven't you?" he squints, speaking in an accusatory tone.

"Shouldn't I?" you ask, and the fact that it's a genuine question has James clutching his chest over his heart.

"No! You never think about work unless you're getting paid!"

"How else am I supposed to learn this whole menu in a timely manner?" you cross your arms defensively.

"Who said anything about a timely manner, Love. I was weeks out of training before I had the whole thing down."

"Yeah, well you're more..." you trail off, trying to find the words.

"More what?" James is quick to sound defensive.

You put your hands up as a sign of innocence, "Just laid back. You're a go with the flow kind of guy. As opposed to me, who's more-"

James interjects, "Stuck in your head," nodding along without a doubt that that's what you were going to say.

You look at James, a bit of surprise and alarm swirling around in the pit of your stomach. He was spot on, but how could he possibly be? He barely knows you, after all.

"What?" James seems to sense your confusion, "I've noticed the turmoil in those eyes of yours. You're doing it right now."

You look bashful, so James graciously changes the subject.

"Whatever, just promise me you won't ever think about this place when you're off the clock again!"

"Promise," you agree, despite his request being impossible.

For whatever reason, your mind seems to always be on work. Not even in a stressed, overthinking way like you'd expect from yourself. It seemed to be little random tidbits from work infiltrating your mind throughout your days. Like sometimes, you randomly think of a joke James said once. Or you see something funny and want to show it to him. Or you think about how nice James is when you mess something up.

Okay, maybe they're not so random after all.

"What're you thinking about?" James interrupts your thoughts.

Just as you're about to start stammering through an excuse, Mary pops her head into the room.

"There you guys are!" she says, "I just sat you guys. Table six."

"Thanks, Mary. We'll be right there." James responds.

"I had Peter bring them some waters because I couldn't find you guys for a while—oh, he's back today by the way, did you know?" Mary asks, but doesn't stick around for James to answer, "I have to get back. Table six, guys!" Her voice echoes the reminder as she's already disappeared from your sights.

James shakes his head at her, amused by the way she jumps from one thing to the next without taking a breath.

"Peter?" you question as you and James begin to stand from the table.

"Yeah, he does bussing and some food running, a helping hand for us servers, really. He was on vacation." James explains as you follow him out into the dining room.

Your eyes fall on table six, a table for two that beholds two kind looking older ladies.

"You think you can handle this?" James juts his chin in their direction.

"Yeah," you say confidently. You have already taken the lead on some tables while James supervised. So far, it's been going well. Your first table you had to ask James to help answer some questions—maybe that's why you wanted to learn the menu so quick, it made you feel sheepish—but after that one time, James hasn't had any notes.

"Alright, I'm gonna check on our other tables then."

"Wait," you gave yourself whiplash with the way you craned your neck swiftly to look at him, "You meant handle it alone?"

"Yeah," James looks down at you reassuringly, his eyes filled with warmth, "You can do it."

"Uhh-? No, what if I-"

"Get out of that pretty little head of yours," he interrupts, "You've got this."

The sincerity in his tone incited a bit of confidence in you.

"Okay, okay. Okay sure," your shaky voice became a little more steady with each word, and you started walking to the table.

"Wait!" James carefully takes hold of your wrist. The progress you had made in easing your nerves is out the window.

"You'll need this," James slides his server book out from his apron and held it out to you.

"Right," you say quietly, smiling as you took it from him.

His hand fell from your wrist as he bid you good luck. He watches you for a moment as you greet the table, a proud gleam in his eyes.

Marlene appears beside James, a tray of waters and soft drinks balancing on her palm, "Your girl's taking orders on her own now?"

"Just the one table for today," James replies.

Marlene hums approvingly and saunters off to deliver the drinks.

James registers her words only when she's already left, "Wait, my who now?" he asks the wall.

His furrowed brows relax as he decides he kind of likes the sound of it.

After checking on your other tables, getting refills and putting new food orders in, James notices a congregation of his coworkers at the host stand so he decides to join in.

"Who's that?" Peter asks, swinging a rag over his shoulder.

Lily follows Peter's gaze to you, who's delivering some bread and butter to table six.

"James' girl?" Lily questions, "She started last week, she's been doing pretty well so far I think."

"Any reason in particular we're calling her that?" James decides to ask on his approach, having heard that phrase twice in under ten minutes.

"Ah, well, she hardly talks to anyone else." Marlene drawls.

"Eh, she's just a bit skittish," James provides an excuse for you, "it's kind of cute."

Lily and Mary share a look.

James continues, "She'll get used to you guys soon enough, just be nice." He really only says the last part to Marlene.

"I am nice," she defends.

"Well, you're not mean," Mary offers and Marlene scowls at her.

James chuckles, and turns to Peter, "How 'ave you been, mate?"

Peter opens his mouth to share details of his vacation, but he's interrupted.

"What are you all doing up here?" Nate hisses, appearing suddenly as if out of thin air, "You know how bad it looks for nearly my entire staff to be slacking off in the front of the restaurant?"

Before anyone can disperse or defend themselves, Nate continues, "And you're supposed to be training, Potter. Where's your girl?"

"Me?" your choked voice rings from behind him.

Everyone peers over at you, standing there shellshocked and blushing with a pitcher of water in your hands.

[hiddenreamers]

Telegraph Road 1977 & 2024 - Lando Norris

SUMMARY: For Lando, the words "first love" just make him think of his childhood neighbour. Then, his heart breaks a little when he remembers she's somewhere in San Francisco. How surprised he is when it turns out you're much closer - in an apartment across the hall. Lando couldn't be more grateful for the strange mysteries that led you to this doorway.

WC: 983

Everybody has those moments when they are suddenly reminded of someone they knew long ago. Old classmates, kids from summer camp, playground friends – people who once were part of your daily life but now you think about them maybe once a year if not less often. Those silent questions of “I wonder what happened to them?” come and go just as quickly, like a golden brown leaf carried by the wild, autumn wind.

Lando is something of an exception to that rule. The thoughts of his old neighbour never quite leave him, as though his autumn is more of a perpetuity than a season. Despite the passage of time, that curious quirk of his stuck. However, the why has changed. While still a child, he’d ponder the memories of you simply out of longing. It is only natural when one’s closest companion is gone one day. Then, as his young heart began revolving around crushes, dates and girlfriends, Lando suffered an epiphany. Finally, he understands! It was as if on some random Tuesday lightning had struck him – it was love he felt for you, not just friendship. And what a tale of one’s first love it told! “We were inseparable, soulmates, if you will, when one day she moved away and I never heard from her again.” Truly, a drama worth a thousand novels.

Little does he know, that those strange mysteries that separate lovers, sometimes lead them to each other’s doorways…

Lando is closing his front door, when the sound of paws tapping the floor grabs his attention. Without much thought, he looks down the corridor.

The tapping belongs to a rather happy-looking Scottish setter. He recognizes the breed only because he’s spent his childhood running around a small British town with you and two of those dogs. Despite the lingering memories of the past, Lando doesn’t mind the pet any longer, again focusing on his own things. Then, a strangely familiar voice distracts him again:

“Come on, Axel! We’ll have plenty of time to make friends later.”

Almost giving himself whiplash, Lando looks for the source of the sound. Could it be…?

You’re a little surprised when you hear someone calling out your name in a questioning manner. As far as you know, none of your friends live in Monaco. So how come someone here knows you? Fixing your grip on the box labelled Kitchen, you take a look around the corridor.

For a moment, you think you’re just seeing things. But you’ve stared at that face for so long, you could recognize him in the darkest, most inexplicable fever dream; the face that you’ve associated with home for your whole life.

“Oh my God, Lando Norris!” you exclaim between chuckles. “I can’t believe it!”

His cheeks redden a little. “You remember me?” The question has a distinct tone of surprise.

“Of course I do! You were my best friend,” you say. “Well, the only friend for a few years,” you add, your voice noticeably quieter than before.

“What are you doing here? I thought your family moved to San Francisco.”

It is only then that Lando truly sees who you’ve become throughout all those years away. Perhaps you are more beautiful than he could imagine but you’re also much sadder. There’s a wistful look in your eye, a tell-tale sign of maturity that is only born out of tears. He can only wonder what pains have brought you back to him.

“At first, it was San Francisco, then New York, Chicago, L.A… I never fit in anywhere. They’re all very lonely cities, you know?” Just for a second, your eyes become glossy. His heart feels a painful sting that only gets worse as you force a wide smile on your face. You’ve had practice in faking happiness, haven’t you? “But enough about me, it’s not that interesting,” you say in a casual tone. “Congratulations on your driving career. Seriously, you’re amazing. Would it be creepy if I admitted now that I’ve watched every single one of your races?”

“Not as creepy as admitting I’ve stalked your social media and never followed you because I thought you don’t remember me.”

“Are you dead serious right now?” Lando’s sheepish smile earns a loud laugh from you. “You should have tried anyway!”

“Funny that you’re the one to say that,” he retorts. “Why didn’t you message me if you’re such a big fan?”

Flustered, you look away for a moment. “Honestly, I thought it would be weird,” you confess. “I was sure you’d forgotten all about me and pulling this ‘we were childhood friends’ schtick now that you’re famous would be so embarrassing. You’re this top-of-the-top racing driver and I’m, well, me.” A bitter chuckle comes after your words but the faux amusement isn’t enough to fool Lando.

“You’re staying for long in Monaco?” His question is accompanied by a light gesture towards the box in your arms.

“As long as they don’t fire me, I guess.” That strange, sad laughter again. “Listen, you look like you have somewhere to be and I’ve already taken up too much of your time. You could come by in the evening, catch up if you want?” Your tone rises, revealing uncertainty about whether the invitation is welcome.

But to him, the answer is obvious. “I’d love that.”

You give him one last smile, then disappear behind the door to your apartment.

In some sense, he has you back. Not the girl he remembers, no. Something innate seems to be gone from your soul but Lando lacks the words to name the change. The sights, the loves, the pains – whatever it was that took your life on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, it sprouted melancholy in the very marrows of your bones.

“What happened to you?” he whispers to himself.

The only answer that comes is muffled footsteps and the shuffling of cardboard boxes.

Check out other fics in the Ampersand Themed Works

[tinietaehyun]

A Cup of Madness, Please!

[MadHatter!Beomgyu x lost!Reader] [Wondrous Tales] [Series] [One-shot]

Pairing: MadHatter!Beomgyu x Lost!Reader

Genre(s): Fantasy, dark fantasy, action, dark romance, supernatural.

Contains: Profanity, mentions/implications of drug use/sedative, complex themes of time, obsessive behaviour, mental breakdowns, binding, violence, gaslighting, manipulation and dialogue-heavy.

Note: thanks for such a patient wait guys! Had t rework this one a lot, and I hope the end result is good! <3

Links: Wondrous Tales Masterlist || Masterlist

Summary: Having managed to elude the tea party and trick Kai into thinking you’ll stay, you scramble for your life by bargaining with a strange caterpillar hanging from the trees to escape.

Being barely lucid, you stumble into what seems to be another secluded grove, another tea party. Oh, you were definitely mad by this point. Not again! You see exuberant host with his feet up on the table with a grin, “Welcome, welcome, do come and join me, little love. I have lots of tea or are you sick of it from the March Hare?”

Panicked you rush off past him, he makes no move to chase after you. How strange. “Toodles, love!” Grimacing you rush off through the tangled foliage….only to arrive back to where you were facing the man again. A loop…?

“Time’s prisoner I am, and so you will be too. I’m awfully lonely and the hare’s fed up of my games. You’ll play with me and keep this Hatter company won’t you?”

Your feet drag along the muddy path. Everything seemed utterly weird here (which was saying a lot considering how much you had experienced and seen beforehand!) but this- this was truly weird!

You gaze at the floating leaves, the wind-blown trees of vibrant hues stuck in position, the birds in the sky forming floating statues with the way they hovered in place. Your mind itself felt fuzzy, your movements slow. This entire area felt absent of time. Despite having walked for what seemed to be ages, you felt as if you progressed nowhere at all.

Was this a sign that you were getting closer to the Hatter? Was this the consequence of killing time? Was he also perpetually stuck in this place with no way out? Surely you’d be safe right, you had heeded the caterpillar’s words of not following the path! Then why was everything getting even worse, you felt as though you were walking right into that madman’s hands!

Instinct bubbles uneasily within you as you sluggishly walk. Something didn’t feel right at all, in fact, it made you feel nervous. From what you had heard about the man, nothing good was bound to occur if you met face to face with that lunatic.

You shudder at the thought. Now your main objective was to somehow make it to the Cheshire Cat’s Woods. Your gaze lifts to the horizon, in the distance you see a murky, foggy space, the ominous silhouette of jagged trees. That’s where you were heading to. It made you feel uneasy, even just from the sight of it from afar. That would be your ticket out of here!

With a renewed vigor, you clench your fists and continue walking ahead. You had to make it out of here, no matter what. You clutch your head, a pounding pain pulsating in your forehead; your perception of time is warped and fatigue strains upon your bones. Everything felt overwhelming and all you wanted to do was go home and take an extraordinarily long nap. To think, you’d have called yourself insane before this, to miss your monotonous and stressful life!

The muddy path seems to curve off away from all the frozen in time chaos and floating objects and your shoulders slouch in relief. Anything further from the Hatter was good news in your eyes. You continue trudging along the path. How much more would you have to walk, to endure? Your mind felt weak, your sanity crumbling by every encounter you had. You really didn’t want to go insane here.

The foliage begins to morph and change, monochromatic bushes of black and white, the path ahead of you seems to change with every blink causing you to become disoriented. What the fuck was happening here? You wobble slightly and your mind feels fuzzy. That same unsettling feeling from before - it was nauseating. As though you had no grasp on anything. White noise fills your ears and you groan covering your ears, you begin running along the path in desperation.

What the hell was this place? You had to get out! After a while running; barely barely lucid, you stumble into what seems to be another secluded grove, another tea party. Oh, you were definitely mad by this point. Not again!

Your legs tremble and you attempt to steady yourself as the white static in your eardrums fades. The tea cups and saucers were mismatched, and numerous were shattered to smithereens on the floor. The table cloth was a colourful mismatch of fabrics, colours and patterns. The chairs all pristinely aligned along the sides and the food seemed untouched - varying from cupcakes, cakes, biscuits, scones and croissants perfectly baked to perfection, sweet and alluring in aroma, making your mouth water ever so slightly.

You couldn’t have wandered in a big circle back to the Hare, could you? No…it couldn’t be. The worst place to be in Wonderland. This couldn’t be the Hatter’s Tea Party? Oh you so desperately wanted to deny it, but you knew. You had indeed fucked up terribly.

“Welcome, welcome, do come and join me, little love. I have lots of tea or are you sick of it from the March Hare?” A rich, husky voice startles you and you whip your head to the side. Another small table of delights and treats arranged in pristine fashion. There, you see the exuberant host with his feet up on the table with a grin.

You look around mortified, it was! It was the Hatter’s Party! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Fear courses through your system, you don’t think your mind could handle another insane encounter! You realise nothing is fenced off in this grove, you were free to roam. Why did you have to indulge him anyway? What if you made a run for it now?

Panicked, you rush off past him, he makes no move to chase after you. How strange? No…this felt wrong. Did he simply not care? Were you running into another trap? He calls out grinning, “Toodles, love!” Oh shit. This wasn’t good.

Why couldn’t you think straight at all? You felt so weird, so disoriented? Where did all your logic fly off too? You keep running, adrenaline coursing through your vessels. Perhaps it was foolish to do so, but you didn’t seem to have any idea, you just wanted to avoid the Hatter at all costs. But now, you feel as though you had walked right into the palm of his hand.

Grimacing, you rush off through the tangled foliage, twigs and leaves brush your face. Heavy pants leave your lips, all you wanted to do was escape. You keep running…only to arrive back to where you were, facing the peculiar man again.

Fuck. What was this? A loop?

The eccentric male tilts his head, a wide grin on his lips and mischievous sparkle in his eyes as he gleams, “Time’s prisoner I am, and so you will be too. I’m awfully lonely and the hare’s fed up with my games. You’ll play with me and keep this Hatter company won’t you?”

Your heart slams against your sternum. Was there truly no way out? Or were you simply going insane? He swings his feet off the table enthusiastically and stands abruptly adjusting his tailcoat, a seductive shade of dark blue with vibrant patterned patches here and there and blood red corsage in his chest pocket. If it weren’t for this place, you’d have thought he was a prince out of some fairytale.

Who would have thought the epitome of madness would have such a pretty face? Chiseled features, pouty lips, raven locks which fall in a wolf cut framing his face perfectly; a few strands over his piercing murky eyes. A sharp jaw and pointed nose, truly a beauty with brimming insanity beneath his skin.

With his hands behind his back, he skips over with an ominously delightful tune. Instinctively, you step back, “I-I just want to get to the woods is all, please, I-I- I’ve had enough.”

He tilts his head with a delighted expression and coos, “Oh? You beg so pretty. You’ve had enough? But we’ve just met, love? My darling little love, I’ve been waiting for you! Oh! You mean the others!” The man throws his head back laughing and tosses his top hat off with a flair. Running his hand through his hair, he giggles, “You don’t like our hospitality?”

Hospitality? Glaring, you take another step back, warily keeping your gaze locked onto him. He walks forward, “It’s been ever so long since I’ve had a guest. It’s so, so, so unfair y’know? That pesky king takes the ones that do show up and kills them when he’s bored? Tell me love, then what am I supposed to do? I also want a pretty little guest. And well, well, well, if you made it this far, you truly must be very special!”

You open your mouth to speak. “Ah, ah, ah, shush, shush! Let me introduce myself, love. I,” he exclaims, with an extravagant spin with outstretched arms, “…am the Mad Hatter, tea party extraordinaire, the most fun person in this dreary place called Wonderland...” he hops over and you yelp as his face is millimetres from yours. His voice drops to a whisper, “But, you can also call me Beomgyu.” Like a gentleman, he bows down taking your hand delicately and bringing it up to his lips as he places a soft kiss on the back of your hand. It sends a shiver down your spine. His gaze. It looked like he was going to devour you whole.

Once again, you open your mouth to speak but you’re halted by his index finger on your lips, “Ah, ah, let me finish. Now…” You stiffen. “Say it, say my name. Let's see how it sounds coming from those pretty lips of yours,” he coos. Your eyes widen - goodness, he was impressively tall. All of the wacky figures of Wonderland were terribly good looking too! Almost as if the divine were cursing you!

You remain silent and Beomgyu tilts his head, and your breath hitches as he suddenly grasps your jaw tilting your head up, his lips inches from your own, as he murmurs, “I said,” his tone darkens, “Say my name. Don’t hesitate for long, if you want to stay alive, play along.”

With great reluctance, you utter, “…Beomgyu.” He releases your chin with a sudden bright smile, “Wonderful, beautiful, how lovely indeed! Now, was that so hard, love?” You glare remaining silent and he chuckles leaning down, “Oh you are terribly cute aren’t you? How did the others let you escape, hm? Goodness, who wouldn’t want to keep you to themselves with such an adorable pouty expression? Now your name.”

You remain quiet and he leans closer making you blurt out, “Y/n.” Beomgyu muses, “Oh a lovely name indeed for my pretty little guest.”

Infuriated, you snap, “Stop. This- look. I just want to leave. I’m tired. I…I’m- I don’t know what to do anymore!” Beomgyu shakes his head, “Tsk, oh dear, you must be so tired. So fatigued. I always knew the others never knew how to treat their guests well. So incompetent.”

With a flourish of his wrist, he leans over and grabs a dark purple rose out of one of the vases. A sudden fit of giggles escapes him as he covers his mouth abruptly, “Sorry love, you have to get used to that. I just… find a lot of things amusing.” Another set of giggles leaves his lips and a terrible feel of unease permeates your very being. Oh, he was insane, alright.

Beomgyu raises the rose to your line of sight making you flinch back as you eye the thorns on the stem. His lips twitch and his eyes widen, sparkling with fervour, with…hunger. “Take it love, an introductory gift from me. It’s my most favourite flower here.”

Stammering, you respond, “N-No thanks I-“ He suddenly snaps, “No? You’re saying no?” You feel your hands go cold at his tone before his expression morphs into a pleasant smile and then into manic laughter sending a jolt of fear through you.

“Goodness! You look terrified! How amusing! Were you scared?” Beomgyu asks, chuckling. “You’ve looked more scared than the moment you first saw me? Why? Did the others tell you bad things about me?” He pouts, reaching over to cup to your cheek, “I’m not scary, I just know how to have fun? Is that so bad? Tell me love, is that so bad?”

You stay quiet, hands trembling. You can’t even look him in the eye. Beomgyu suddenly tilts your head upwards again, his lips twisting into a smirk, “Oh love, feeling shy? Oh why? Come now, keep those pretty eyes on me, hm?” You quiver, “What do you want from me?

“Oh, oh, oh! What a great question!” He exclaims before scoffing with a roll of his eyes, “If it weren’t so abhorrently boring. But to answer your curiosity, I don’t know.”

You deadpan, “You don’t know?” He grins a little too widely, “Mhm, I don’t know. You don’t know either. We both don’t know. The possibilities are endless. Isn’t that glorious?”

Beomgyu gazes at the rose in his left hand, “What a thing of beauty,” he holds it up to your face, “Almost as gorgeous as you, love.” You roll your eyes. He drags the soft petal down your forehead slowly, along the bridge of your nose and rests it on your lips, “Doesn’t it smell divine?” Before you can muster a reply, a wonderfully sweet aroma emits from the rose. You inhale deeper, never have you smelt such an enticing scent. What the hell?…

“Inhale it deeply, love,” he lets out a breathy chuckle and you pale. What did you just breathe in? He takes the rose giving it a big inhale and sighs deliriously happy, “Oh, wait for it to kick in. You said you were tired right?”

Your legs buckle and your sight blurs. What drugs was this rose made from? Wacky and vibrant colours fill your gaze and the surroundings distort and stretch making you feel delirious.

“Isn’t it marvellous? Are you having fun?” He cackles watching you clutch your forehead and stumble and clumsily waver. “You can see the world, the way I do!” He laughs loudly, “Its a little hard you see, when time doesn’t move. Makes you go a little cuckoo, but hey on the bright side, you’re never late, or never early, or, or, never really on time at all!” Beomgyu guffaws clutching his stomach as if he had uttered the funniest phrase in existence.

Meanwhile, you were struggling to keep your ground feeling even the ground below you give way. You felt as though you were floating. Beomgyu hums amused, “Ah, look at your eyes blissed out, such a dazed expression, ah, I could never grow weary of such a sight.”

Knees buckling, you clutch your head as your eyelids feel weighty, drowsiness overwhelms your senses - with which you feel yourself hurtling to the ground and your vision snaps to black.

The Hatter muses crouching down, whether he’s amused by the thousands of colours he’s seeing or the fact you fell down with about as much grace as a sack of potatoes spilling, he himself didn’t know. Either way, he was utterly delighted to have someone after so, so long to be stuck in time with him!

Time was overrated. The future is bleak, unpredictable. Change is far too outdone. It’s not about the what ifs, but the what nows. He had killed time with his bare hands for that very reason, tore the fabric of existence here into shreds. He didn’t want Wonderland to progress forward, how preposterous would that be? What if one day everything faded into obscurity? What if…what if he were to be forgotten? The sheer horror of the thought sends a shudder down hus spine.

“No, no, no,” he mutters, he shakes his head, distraught laughs tumble from his lips, “We can’t have that.” Beomgyu gazes at you, his pupils dilated manically, “You poor thing, oh love, wanting to leave. You don’t know a thing about enjoying the present, not being tainted by the future. Eroded by the ravages of time.” He runs his thumb delicately over your cheek, “It’s okay, I’ll teach you, and I’ll make sure I don’t let you escape like I did with Alice, oh so long ago.”

After what seems like hours, you feel a terrible migraine. Your ears feel numb and you feel as though all the blood was rushing to your head. What the fuck did he do to you? You pry your eyes open and flinch at the light coming in. To your horror, everything was upside down. The same scene, but upside down. Your arms hang below your hand, fingertips grazing the vibrant grass below.

No wonder the blood was rushing to your head! You crane your neck to see your legs and see them tied up. You were hanging like a pendulum off one of the branches of this massive tree! Holy shit! Panic surges through your system, he was a a maniac! With every writhe of your body and deep breath, you swing pathetically.

Footsteps resound and you spot the familiar shoes in your line of sight. A low laugh escapes his lips, “You’re awake. I was beginning to think that my scent-of-sleep-rose had killed you or something.” You glare seething at him - him and stupid fucking smile.

“To make you aware, it is you, who is upside down, not me. Then again, to you, I must look upside down. Perception is a funny thing isn’t it?” He rambles with a grin. You snarl, “What’s wrong with you? I’ve done nothing to deserve this!”

Beomgyu snickers, “Oh hush, hush. Why so angry love? I just wanted to play a game. Believe me, we could talk forever, and I mean that literally by the way,” he giggles before abruptly covering his mouth and composing himself, “But I thought, we could make things a little more fun? I like fun. You like fun. Everyone does. So…why so cranky?”

This piece of…your jaw tightens. His gaze sharpens and he leans down, his hand giving your body a little push and you feel nausea hit you unceremoniously. “Well, what are you going to do about it? Glare into me till I what? Turn to ashes, quiver and blubber away,” he mocks, raising his tone of voice. Beomgyu coos, “Love, you’re in my territory, my grove now. My rules, my games, my…my everything.” He dramatically bends down plucking a bright blade of grass between his index and thumb, “Even this blade of grass,” he blows it in your face with a chuckle.

Anger and fear amalgamate within you into an uncomfortable mixture. Beomgyu’s voice darkens, a crazed expression in his widening eyes as he leans down; his face inches from yours, “Even…you.” Beomgyu stands brightly spinning around with a bright demeanour and a clap of his hands, “So! Suck it up, buttercup!”

Your restraint snaps, all your deliria, patience, fatigue building until it bursts like a geyser as you release a shrill scream piercing the air. It takes Beomgyu aback, the sound rattling his eardrums and momentarily making him stiffen.

You scream hoarsely, “Suck it up? Suck it up!? You’re fucking deplorable! You insane maniac! You- you- do you even know how hard it has been to get here? It’s all just a fucking game to all of you!” Your gaze burns into his as he quietly observes your apparent mental breakdown. You snarl, as you swing pitifully, your hands digging into the dirt to steady yourself. “I’d wish you hell! But this place is already worse than hell itself,” you seethe.

“Is it so fucking hard to get a break here?” You shout, tears running back into your eyes with how you were upside down. “And this! Being fucking hung up like meat at a butcher’s shop, icing on the cake really!” You continue rambling and cursing for another minute as Beomgyu stares almost entranced by you.

You snap catching his stare, “What? What now?” For a moment, he doesn’t reply before stepping forward and dropping to his knees. The expression you see next sends a chill through your body. Wide-eyed, he cups your face, “That was beautiful, what a performance. So much pent up emotion,” another set of tittering laughs leaves him.

“Are you…” he laughs again, “are you losing your mind already, love?”

Your heart flies to your throat. No. No you couldn’t be. No way. That was just…a little pent up anger. No, no, no. You? You going mad? That was ludicrous to even suggest. The Mad Hatter of all people to suggest such a thing?

He coos, fingers pressing into your cheeks, “That look in your eyes, it’s like mine. So chaotic, so panicked, so fiery, so delirious. I can see it, this place has taken its toll on you, as it has done on me. We’re the same. Not willing to die, but to endure, to afraid to never wake up again, but tormented to live!”

Beomgyu rambles as you blankly regard him, your mind spinning. Maybe it was the fact that you were hanging upside down or were you genuinely losing your mind? You couldn’t tell anymore.

You attempt to compose yourself as you splutter, “Beomgyu…I- I can’t be stuck like this forever.” He cuts you off, “Oh don’t worry about that, I’ve killed time! So you can? See,” he gestures wildly around him, “I have..,I’ve been stuck here, even if I want to leave I can’t! I just get brought back here,” he throws his head back laughing maniacally.

You feel even more nauseous than before. How were you going to get out of this one? You tremble, “Stuck? You…can’t leave? Why? Because you killed time?”

He nods wiping a tear away from laughing so hard, “Precisely, love. Consider it a punishment of sorts,” he leans down whispering, “Though this is exactly what I wanted, but don’t tell anyone that. This way, Wonderland can stay happy forever, no one will forget anyone, because we’re all perpetually stuck,” Beomgyu huffs, “Especially me, I can’t even leave my grove, the other losers here can at least have a little more freedom.”

You couldn’t imagine why anyone would subject themselves to this? No wonder he was like this, such a fractured mind, such a delicate psyche. You stammer, “W-Why?”

“Why?” He asks tilting his head, “Why?” He chuckles as he rapidly runs his hands through his head, “Because I wanted to. That pesky rabbit kept saying he was late, that abhorrent king said my tea parties lasted way too long. That crafty hare was trying to steal my limelight. Pathetic scum, the lot of them! And, and, and, the guests we get, oh love, before you, we hadn’t gotten anyone new in Wonderland for so long!”

He squeezes your cheeks, “Could you imagine how bored I was? Time was passing so quickly. The king barely came to my parties anymore, the Hare went his own way, and that stupid white rabbit didn’t even bother to tell me anything of anyone anymore. I was…” he giggles brokenly, “I think, I think I was being forgotten? Me?” He cackles, “Me? Being forgotten, isn’t that so funny? I’m the most memorable of the bunch!”

It hits you like a truck. The one weakness of the Mad Hatter. Time. Time’s passage. He was obsessed with being stuck in a moment. The relentless forward march of time terrified him.

Beomgyu releases your face and he peers down at his shaking hands with a wide smile, “Oh look at that. Even my hands are excited.” Afraid, you think, he’s afraid. He’s afraid of the fading joy and madness that defines his existence. He’s afraid of being forgotten.

You almost, almost feel bad. Perhaps you’d even feel sympathy if it weren’t for the fact you were hanging like a bat off a branch. A twinge of guilt permeates you…would it be so bad to exploit his weakness? To get out of here? Would that make you a bad person. No, you just wanted to flee is all.

“Why so quiet?” His voice is sharp and you’re startled by the husk in his tone and you see that you had zoned out whilst he rambled incessantly. “What?” You murmur dazed. Beomgyu’s lips form a twisted smile, “You’re definitely losing your mind.”

“I’m not,” you fire back. He coos, “Denial is always the first step. I would know, after all.” You snap, “I’m not! Just- Just let it be!”

He snickers, “Why? Is being mad so bad? I believe in madness lies great genius! Only the best people are crazy after all. Hmm…that brings me to the question, is being crazy, the same as being mad?”

You groan frustrated and yell, “Just keep quiet for ten minutes, please.” The Hatter muses, “Agitation, the common second phase of going mad,” he smiles darkly, “I like that, the notion of making you go so insane, you cease to function- no, no!” His eyes widen stopping himself, “No..not cease but ascend, to see things the way I do.”

Beomgyu stands with an eccentric step, “Don’t you feel pity? For the Hatter is lonely in his madness? Won’t you join this Hatter in his madness? In his little stagnant bubble?”

Silence stretches between the both of you as you simply gaze at each other. You didn’t know what to say - were you overwhelmed, drained? You didn’t know. You felt nothing.

Beomgyu grabs a chair and spins it around, sitting on it back to front, resting his chin on the back of the chair with his arms for support. “I don’t like when you’re quiet. That scream you let out earlier was delightful. Could you do it again?”

You give him a blank stare, attempting to get your fried brain to work. His gaze morphs into one of displeasure, “Are you ignoring me?”

You say nothing drilling your blank gaze into his. His jaw tenses, a scary expression on his face, “I don’t quite like what you’re doing, Y/n.”

With a long sigh, he hums, “Fine, fine, I’ll humour you since you’re special. I’ll stop pestering. How about this? I’ll let you down-“ Your eyes brighten and his lips quirk up, “Oh that got your attention now did it? All you had to do was say so, love.” You grit your teeth, piece of shit! As if he’d do so if you asked.

“I’ll let you down, if you play a little game. I think we’ve both been a little too personal with each other an frankly I’m just itching to see how that pretty head of yours works. So let’s lighten the mood. Riddles.”

You groan loudly, “No…I can’t even think straight now.” Beomgyu giggles, “That’s because you’re upside down silly!” If you could just wrap your hands around his neck and-

“Anyway, you don’t have a choice, love! I’m good at keeping promises, so don’t worry. All you have to do is answer the riddles correctly and I’ll untie you.”

“What if we raise the stakes? If I answer them correctly, you’ll let me go?” You murmur. His face morphs into one of disdain, “Come now love, that’s not what we agreed to do.” You snap, “We, we? We didn’t agree to anything? It’s all you!”

“You, me, he, she, whatever, whatever, all these are trivial details!” He exclaims. You smirk catching him off guard, “You’re afraid.”

He stiffens, his eyes narrowing, “Afraid? Of what?” Time. But you didn’t want to say that outright. You murmur, “Of me winning. Moving ahead. So you don’t even want to put that option on the table. Because there will always be the tiniest sliver of a chance that I’ll win.”

For a moment, you see his lips twitch and twist upwards and his head snap into a tilt, “Oh. Oh you think you’re so clever don’t you?”

You hum, “I do.” You expect him to seethe with anger but instead he smiles widely, “Good, I like guests with a little spunk. By far, you’re my favourite yet.”

“So you agree to my terms?” You beam. The Hatter muses sardonically, “Of course not, love. Don’t be foolish. Even if you left, you’d not be able to break the loop.”

“And how do you break the loop exactly?” You raise a brow asking. The Mad Hatter observes you amused, “You can’t.”

“I’m sure I can, there has to be a way,” you retort. “There is, one guest managed to. Pesky little brat,” he grits out. You hum, “Care to share?” Beomgyu sarcastically smiles, “When you win my game, I will.”

“Fine, if I win, you’ll tell me how to break the loop,” you mutter. He muses, “Mm, I’ll think about it. Actually, I don’t know. I lied.”

Fury bubbles up within you. Of fucking course! He resumes, “Anyway, first riddle. I can be cracked, made and told. What am I?”

Your brain whirrs slowly. Everything seemed foggy. Cracked? What on Earth? Think, think, think Y/n! Your brows furrow as you see his smug smile. Told…made…? Cracked? Oh-your eyes widen. A joke! A joke!

Before your lips part to answer, you hold back. Why did you have to oblige him? He never promised you anything. Who said you had to give the right answer? You tentatively murmur, “A…secret.”

He stiffens, before snickering, “Oh love, that’s incorrect.” You feign innocence, “A secret can be told, made, and cracked, can it not?” The Hatter’s lips part and then close for a moment and he scoffs, “The answer was a joke, love, a joke. Come now, that was easy.”

“I’m technically right,” you snap. Beomgyu rolls his eyes, “No, you’re not.” You scoff, “It fits the criteria!” He muses, “It doesn’t fit my criteria.” You notice the surprise in his gaze as if he expected you to get the riddle right off the bat.

Hm. Perhaps the key, was to unsettle the Hatter. Use his weakness against him. Time. Lower his guard and attack. He mutters, “Second riddle, I’ll make it even easier this time,” he sighs drawling out his words, “The more you take, the more you leave behind. What am I?”

Oh you’d heard this one before! It was footsteps! You furrow your brows deep in thought. Beomgyu sharply observes you and muses, “Oh come on, this is a classic riddle, don’t tell me you don’t know this? How did you even get this far then?”

Tiredly, you sigh, “I…I don’t know. I just…don’t know.” His gaze shifts and he mutters, “What’s this…this was supposed to be more exciting.” He scoffs, “Whatever, just say an answer, don’t keep me waiting.” You see him tapping his foot and you have to refrain from smirking, he’s giving you a hint.

You think deeply. Hm, the more you take. The more you leave behind. The more time you take. The more time you leave behind. Time. You could also say time. How…perfect.

“Time.” You utter. The Hatter’s slouch diminishes and his gaze blazes into you, “What? That’s preposterous? How? How in Wonderland do you mess that up?” You feign being disoriented, “I- Is that not right? Everything feels…so…ugh.”

Beomgyu’s eyes narrow, his grip on the back of the chair tightening, “It’s footsteps! The second one is also wrong!” You let out a laugh and you see his right eye twitch. “What’s so funny, that I’m not laughing with you?” He questions.

You laugh louder, “You…you look confused.” His body tenses and he observes you laughing to yourself. Had you truly gone mad? He himself mirrors your laughter, “Has that head of yours been upside down for a little too long? My, my, perhaps my riddles are too complex for you at the moment. You’re losing your sanity as we speak.”

You snap, feigning anger, “No! I-“ His lips form a devilish smile, “Oh but you are, love.” You clutch your head and groan, “No, no, no-“ you let out a frustrated yelp, and you gaze into his eyes widely, “Please, just let me down!”

Beomgyu regards you for a long time before finally stepping forward. He reaches into his pocket pulling out a handkerchief, a flower, a broken pocket watch and then he scoffs in irritation. “Nothing to cut you down with.”

You gaze at the fractured glass of the pocket watch on the grass . How curious that he still had such an item with him. He grabs a knife and walks over beginning to slice at the rope around your ankles, “Do cover your head, don’t want you knocking what’s left of your sanity right out of you upon impact now, do we?”

It had worked! How odd…he caved in quicker than expected. You yelp as you feel yourself fall into a crumpled heap on the ground. The urge to vomit surfaces from the sheer blood rushing back to where it’s supposed to be. God…you felt awful.

You sit up groaning, hair disheveled and panting for breath. Beomgyu crouches tossing the knife aside and grabs your jaw tilting your head upwards, “You’re certainly something, y’know that?” His eyes scan down your flushed face and he smirks amused by your state, his thumb tugs at your lower lip, “Such a pretty thing. I almost feel bad. But if it means you can see things from my point of you, then I’m indeed happy to enable your insanity. Because what I’m doing, what you’re experiencing,” he leans closer; his sweet breath caresses your cheeks, “is your mind being freed. Sanity is the chain which holds you down, but madness, insanity, it opens your mind. You might be feared, marginalised but they don’t know how we think. They fear the unknown, what we’re capable of.”

You gaze into his eyes. God, that face. The type of face you’d believe anything that’d come out of his sinful lips. He whispers, “With every moment, everything you do, it just feels intoxicating. You so…unpredictable, so…thrilling. I love it. I love everything about you so far.” The words send a dark unease through you.

You question, voice just above a whisper, “Tell me, why did you kill time? It’s because you fear the passage of it. The passage of time means you’ll eventually be forgotten.” Beomgyu’s fingers dig into your jaw and his eyes darken, “You don’t get it. Being forgotten- ah, ha,” he brokenly muses, “No, no, no, you don’t understand it like I do.”

You murmur softly, placing your hand timidly atop his, “Then explain it to me.” His eyes widen bizarrely by your sudden compassion, “What are you up to?” You muse, “You don’t trust me?”

His eyes narrow and you see his lips twitching trying to refrain from smiling, “I don’t. But I want to.”

“I won’t leave,” you murmur and add on, “Not like I can. Even if I did, I’d be stuck in this godforsaken loop, that you so, kindly won’t tell me how to break,” you emphasise and he snorts, “Oh I genuinely don’t know. Even I can’t break it. As I said, it’s part of my punishment. As long as I exist, it will exist also.”

You hum, “If you cease to exist?” His eyes widen panicked, “No- no that can’t be. I can never die in this realm. Time has to pass for that.” Time to throw a wrench into his philosophy.

With a small smile, you utter, “You don’t exist outside of Wonderland.” His gaze snaps to yours, “What?”

“No one knows you outside of this world,” you say bleakly. Your hand tightens across his. You had to make him break down, had to keep him distracted until you could think of something more concrete.

“That’s…preposterous,” he stammers, “Even if I don’t technically exist there, I still exist here. I’m still alive.” You murmur, “That girl who once escaped, surpassed the loop, she must have forgotten you, no?”

You remember the caterpillar’s words. Only one of the many guests here had escaped Wonderland. That must be her!

Beomgyu rips his hand away roughly and his gaze darkens. Your notice his breathing become ragged and a mixture of anger and panic on his visage. Beomgyu trembles, “Stop it- don’t remind me of such nonsense! She…no. Forgotten me? I had almost driven her insane, there’s no way she could have forgotten me?”

You continue, “She’s escaped, living her normal life, what, perhaps years have passed in the real world? You think she’d remember you still? The older she gets the more you fade.”

With a shaky breath, you say, “Have you not considered, that by killing time, you’ve only inhibited your ability to progress, to remain relevant. What you’ve done, is confined yourself to the past.” Beomgyu’s eyes dart back and forth and he screams, “Stop, stop, stop!”

A manic chuckle emits from him, “I-I-I know what you’re doing Y/n. I know your little tricky mind game!” You shake your head, “I’m not playing any games. I’m saying my thoughts on our predicament,” you smile widely, “What’s wrong in that?” You inquire, “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Beomgyu yells infuriated, “No! No! No! You are not! Such insolence- I- how dare you?” It gives you a strange satisfaction to see him like this. Were you sick for enjoying tormenting his already fragile psyche like this? Maybe. Perhaps Wonderland had indeed taken its toll on you. So why were your lips itching to break into a delirious smile?

You catch a flicker of movement in the sky. The birds, you swear their wings flapped for a second. Your heart races - were you seeing things?

Beomgyu clutches his head distraught, “No, no, I killed time, time is only bound to make things worse! I’m not trapped in the past, I…I just want to preserve the moment. Don’t you get it? How don’t you get it?”

You peer at him with a grimace and he lets out an unhinged cackle dragging his hand down his face, “You’re looking at me like I’m mad? I am, I am?” He chortles to himself. “Oh…I’m a mess...”

Your eyes widen as you see the bunting move a little, the birds’ wings flap. Wait…did that mean time was passing? You glance back down at the deranged Hatter. Guilt and pleasure mix within you. His madness was the key to your escape. He had grown comfortable with his own twisted philosophy, and now that you were intentionally provoking him, provoking his conscience entirely, it seemed to mess with the loop.

With a smile, you bend down picking up the cracked pocket watch, “Why have this with you?”His eyes widen and he goes to snatch it before you place it behind your back, “For someone who doesn’t care much about time, you have something like this.”

“Don’t test me, love,” he grits out standing. You attempt to compose yourself and keep your fear in check as you inhale, “Does the truth hurt? The fact that you’ve trapped yourself in this bubble of time. Whilst everyone outside forgets about you? After I escape, don’t you want me to remember you, Beomgyu?”

Beomgyu marches forward, his hand flies to your throat as he slams you against the tree. The bark digs into your back and you grimace as his fingers dig into your neck. The broken pocket watch slips out of your fingers.

He clicks his tongue rapidly in annoyance as he snarls, “You sly vixen, you think you can just talk your way out of this? You don’t know anything about me! You don’t know anything at all! It seems you’ve truly gone bonkers!” Choked gasps and splutters leave your lips as you try to pry his hand off.

Your eyes flutter up and you can’t help but smile stupidly at the sight, the birds were moving, flapping away. This so-called punishment given by time was intrinsically linked to his mind and consciousness. No wonder he was as mad as he was.

Beomgyu’s eyes widen dumbfounded by the sight of you smiling as he chokes you out. The stagnant air seems to dissipate around him, the scent of nostalgia dissipates and he feels the brush of a hefty breeze against his skin for the first time in a long time.

Beomgyu tugs you forward, his face inches from yours as he seethes, “What? What are you grinning about?” You rasp out, “T-Time,” you cough, “is…moving.”

His hand immediately lets you go as you collapse, gasping for air. He looks up, where were the same three birds which hovered in the air? Why were the clouds moving so jaggedly, almost buffering?

Panic fills Beomgyu’s system as he stumbles back at the horrific sight. Time will always continue. After all, time makes everyone his fool. And now, the biggest fool of them all, was Beomgyu. The Mad Hatter.

A distraught and strangled laugh escapes Beomgyu’s throat as he peers at the livelier environment. Trees rustling, the sunlight glimmering. Tears drip down his face as he laughs, “I have not killed time, but time has killed me! How funny! Is that not hilarious?”

His head snaps to you as he cackles, “Laugh! Laugh, laugh, laugh it up! I’ve been the fool all along? Who was I to think I could outsmart time itself when it was in fact time who kept me trapped in my own consciousness, to be a fool who was but a mere memory!”

You gaze at the Hatter who had been shattered beyond recognition. His chronic phobia of the passage of time had seemed to overtake any remaining sense of rationale. With a cautious step back, you peer at the forest at the horizon. You just needed to slip away now…

Beomgyu beams brightly as sparkling tears run down his cheeks, “Oh, you…you, you. Never before have I seen such cunning, such a pretty face,” he coos before growling, “But twisted mind.”

Beomgyu steps forward, “How does it feel to have broken the Hatter? Huh? Huh? Not only have I been shattered once, but now twice?” He bursts out into another fit of laughter before his crazed eyes gaze lands upon you once more, “That smile on your face… you liked it. You like seeing me suffer, you’re just as depraved as we all are here in Wonderland.”

Your heart drops; no. You…,couldn’t be. Depraved? You wouldn’t go so far to be depraved- okay, perhaps you were enjoying tormenting him a little but that’s just because you were getting closer to a way out- you weren’t twisted or sadistic?

He breathlessly chuckles stepping forward, wiping away his continuous tears, “You’re singlehandedly the most twisted guest I’ve ever received.”

Fuck. You were so close. You step back timidly; you catch him looking at your feet and he runs his hands through his ebony locks, smiling widely to himself, “Oh, look at you, look. at. you.” He muses, closing his eyes as if trying calm his rage, “Get out.”

Your body stiffens at his words. Did you mishear him? “What?” You ask, quivering.

Beomgyu drags a hand down his face as he looks down, strands falling over his eyes dangerously, “Get out of my sight, before I make your pretty little head a cake topper for my next tea party.”

You take another step back, and another one. A few more. Finally, you turn around and break out into a sprint, you even glance behind you only to see him standing completely still - his chilling gaze burning into your back with a clear message:

DON’T. EVER. COME. BACK.

With that, you look ahead and run, run and run like your life depends on it toward the eerie forest on the horizon. The sun begins to set once more and the entire place seems to wane, stretch, move and distort, with a new breath of life. A delirious laugh escapes your lips as you run along the decrepit path, wind whips past your face in which you relish immensely.

The Cheshire Cat…what would you face next? Your hands itch, at the rate you were going, you feel like you could…ki-no. No. Compose yourself Y/n. You just wanted to go home. Was that…so hard? No damn cat was going to stop you.

You’d do anything.

Anything to leave. Anything.

As you disappear from his line of sight, a smile laces Beomgyu’s lips and a breathy chuckle emits from him. His knees buckle and he clutches his pounding, overwhelmed head. His brain was truly scattered, broken into mere smithereens.

If you do get past the Cheshire Cat, by which you will, he knows it. That bastard of a cat, will most definitely let you go.

Whilst he may have lost to time, there’s one ounce of peace and one absolute truth that makes him grin so hard that his cheeks hurt.

He’ll never forget you.

Ever.

And he has a feeling, most importantly, you won’t forget him either.

Taglist: [open]

@naoristerling @staaaarykids @tremendousphantommiracle @lun4kazumii @lunathewritingcat @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @taehyhunnzly @20crowsinahoodie @baekberrie @syraphyina @fullbodyblankets @soohashits @f4iryfever @themochiverse @atiny-chocolate-chip @nothingwithoutgyu @ethystclove @hancafe @nap-of-a-starr @isa942572 @evn-09 @ninitorih @m3chigo @tenleeluvr-blog @matcha-binz @soobunnymoa @sleepyygyu @nicngyu @vicurious28 @kurokkkiko0 @zyoopioo @noraimp @bvqler @lailols @iiisusy @astridxxxx @kookiesbunny @scrumptiousloser

[ohimsummer]

✎ . . .❝…YOU LITTLE THIEF! ❞

—poly! stsgverse, some light shoko x reader, implied stsg x reader (?), ntm just some goofy silly antics

⭑ ࣪ ˖ sum’z notes.ᐟ reader is able to skate like this during their getaway >:3 ( read the sequel! )

The Jaws theme is playing on the soundtrack within your mind. They’re both clueless, none the wiser to the incoming threat that slowly creeps up behind them. Whatever is on Gojo’s phone must be life changing, the way he and Geto are so transfixed, smiling and laughing as if they’re not about to be pulled into the depths. The perfect opportunity reveals itself when they part, leaving a gap just big enough for you to squeeze through. Locked on the target, you pick up speed, careful to avoid any stragglers between you and your prize, until…

“Hey!’” Gojo exclaims as you zoom between them, gaping at the bare hand that just held his phone. “Give that back!”

Twirling around, you stick out a tongue in reply, still gliding away as both men try and fail to run after you on their own skates. Both are stuck fumbling through groups of people, pros or others clinging to the rail just to stay upright. Your escape is swift, efficient, and they haven’t even covered half the distance by the time you’ve kicked off your skates and scurried over to the booth Shoko has claimed.

“Lookie!” Your squeal is eager, victorious, mischievous. She squeezes in next to you as you switch on Gojo’s phone, unfortunately having locked during your get away, but lucky for you, opening his camera doesn’t require a password. “Say cheese!” And Shoko leans in close, hand braced on your thigh, as you snap the first photo. And then another. And another. Picture after picture, photo after photo in rapid succession. A video of you and Shoko faux pouting, before bursting into laughter. Your selfie. Her selfie. A short clip of you puckering your lips, holding up a peace sign and blinking your lashes. You’re doing another where you and Shoko’s hands are forming a heart when something catches her eye.

“Move, move!,” she warns, and tugs you away from the wall of the booth, shared with the roller rink. You don’t question her, having spotted the tuft of white during the frantic turns of your head, and Gojo’s fingertips just brush the collar of your jacket as you settle into Shoko’s lap, mere inches out of his reach.

“Hand that over, you little thief!,” he pouts. Geto, leaning on the rail, mutters aloud ‘And how the hell were you running in roller skates…?’ but it’s mostly drowned out by Gojo’s next exclamation. “What do you think you’re doing with my property?”

You switch the camera, holding it up to snap a quick photo of them both. “I’m taking pictures, duh. Souvenirs. Something to remember us by.”

“Oh, are we dead?” Shoko squeezes her arms around your waist, and then answers her own question. “I suppose we will be, for this, right?”

The two of you share a girlish giggle, before Gojo, unamused, holds out his palm. “Phone, now.”

You don’t think you like this tone. “Why don’t you get out of the rink and come take it from me?”

Shoko, ever the instigator, mumbles an ‘oooh!’. She and Suguru are audience to the brief standoff between you and Gojo, before he straightens up, nibbles his lips in contemplation, narrows darkening blue eyes at you.

“Oh, just wait, you are gonna be in for it.” And you three watch him roll off towards the nearest rink exit.

Geto lingers a second longer, and so he spots you tucking his friend’s phone beneath your shirt, before leaping from Shoko’s lap. Gojo reaches one of the openings where the rink ends and black carpet begins, making eye contact with your fleeing figure and running for his shoes as you disappear into the darkness outside. Shortly afterward comes Geto. He leisurely slips off his skates, replaces them with his boots, and strolls over to join Shoko at the booth.

“Those idiots.,” she laughs as he slides in opposite of her. “How’d he let her steal his phone anyway? Thought Gojo had spidey senses?”

“We were…looking at something.” Geto hesitates on his words.

“Something?” Shoko sends you a text that goes unread and unanswered. “As in another picture of some model?”

A selfie of you, specifically. But Geto will never admit that, especially not to Shoko. “It was.”

She gives him a teasing grin. If she knows, he can’t tell. “Must’ve been quite the looker, huh?”

He props a hand under his chin. “Oh, yeah. You have no idea.”

tagz: @anthoosies @staryukis

[redflagshipwriter]

Red Hot Ghouls chapter 13 part 2/2

masterpost

Given that Dr. and Dr. Fenton had taken him on a drive around town that legitimately climaxed with an on-foot chase of a hulking ghost who did not care to comment for their family blog, Jason thought that was actually kinda probable. If the Drs. had that technology, their kids would probably have access as well.

“Why not?” Tim said, sounding a bit defensive. “We know for a fact that there’s a few undead out there, zombie boy. And there’s a ghost affiliated with the JL.”

All solid points.

‘But there’s no way the good Doctors would be able to convince a ghost to do anything they wanted. Would the daughter have any better luck?’

Jason covered a laugh in his fist.

His ghostly experience so far consisted of:

Danny Phantom, who was very annoyed that Waters was trying to pay him tribute and not happy to see Jason, either.

The mysterious collaborator who hadn’t even wanted Jason to enter his tower.

Skalker, who spent the length of their acquaintance screaming and flying away at what appeared to be his top speed while Jack Fenton whooped and Dr. Fenton shouted questions from a megaphone.

“I get the vibe that they don’t really care to interact with the living,” Jason said, before Tim could get his knickers in a twist. “So my skepticism is in regards to the likelihood of a ghost agreeing to collaborate.”

“What, you think they’re all the same?” Tim said. His tone made it seem like he thought that was such an embarrassingly unintellectual idea that Jason should sink through the floor.

“I think there’s pretty good reasons there might be a trend.”

Tim made an unconvinced sound and changed the subject. “Since they have a similar area of interest, I want to look for a connection between the Fentons and Waters. They could be- Why did you laugh?”

A neon sign lit up across the street, sending a wash of purple light through the air. Jason shook his head. “The Fentons- the Dr.s Fenton, at least, strongly dislike Jeremy Waters.”

“Why did that come up?”

“No reason,” Jason lied airily. “Anyway, that’s not it. Could be some kind of rivalry. But I doubt they’d want to visit Waters in Arkham to give him their sympathies.”

Tim chewed that over for a moment. “Could be a rivalry. I gotta go, O’s hitting my line.”

“Stay safe out there.” Jason cut the conversation and settled in to think. He stuck his hands in his pockets and wished for something to fiddle with that wasn’t a weapon. It had poser vibes to stand around on a rooftop alone playing with a knife or a gun. If Oracle caught you on video, she would tint it blue, set it to some humiliatingly emo soundtrack, and send it around the hero community.

Not, uh. Not that that had happened to him.

He called in. “Hey, O, good evening.”

“Good to hear from you, Hood.” She sounded as serene as ever.

Jason fidgeted a little. “Anything I could help with?” He toed the front of his boot back and forth on the cement ledge for a moment, killing time by idly calculating how many seconds he’d have to engage a grapple if he fell from this height.

“Good news for Gotham, it’s a quiet night.”

He sighed.

“I know, I know,” O said sympathetically. “You got all dressed up in your dancing shoes-”

“And there’s no one to go out with,” Jason agreed. At the back of his mind he vaguely remembered that that…might not be true, actually. He made a dramatic sigh. “I might call it a night, then. No point staring at the city like some bat-eared creep. I don’t have any monologues to work on right now.”

“Oh, you got those all done? Good for you, little buddy.”

Jason resisted the urge to flip her off. She wasn’t even here.

“Stay safe,” he said, because the idea of ending a call without saying that always filled him with a terrible premonition that this would be the time the other person ended up shot in the head and gone forever. He blew out a long, slow breath when he was finally truly alone and reconsidered the thought he’d had earlier.

‘I haven’t messaged Phantom all this time. It might be a good night for it. It’s been most of a week. He won’t be annoyed that I’m checking in now.’

Yeah… Yeah, okay. Jason grappled down and made his way to where he’d stashed his bike. He got into his current residence and stripped out of his gear. He got out his phone and shot Phantom a text before he went into the shower. Not much, he didn’t wanna come across as desperate. Just a nice, casual, “Hey, what’s up? Just checking in. Any luck so far? I finished my books!”

[ovaryacted]

Hello??! Sub!Leon??? Absolutely sign me the fuck up. Ok ok so. Hear me out.

First time, the absolute first time Leon has a prostate orgasm, he fucking cries. Either pegging, dick or fingering, the moment he feels that specific part inside of him get touched, he sees fucking stars.

This dude goes full hentai shit. His eyes roll back, he’s drooling, his tongue is hanging out, he’s babbling uselessly. His brain literally can’t comprehend how good he feels because of it!

I’d imagine that Leon also gets vocal. More vocal than ever. Normally he’s a quiet guy. Maybe some moaning and grunts but when your rubbing his prostate? Yea he’s speaking another language. Dude is Italian American, imagine if he starts speaking fucking Italian. HE doesn’t even understand what he’s saying, he’s just repeating words he heard from his parents growing up.

His voice is also an octave higher. He tries to cover his mouth at first, but it’s useless. He becomes a crying, moaning, babbling bitch.

I’d also imagine Leon’s thighs shake when he cums. Oh and he cums HARD. He actually forgets how to breathe for a bit because of the orgasm slamming into him.

And afterwords? Woah mama. He’s beautiful, breathing heavily, tears and drool marking his pretty face. Just…Mwuah~ <3

MDNI/18+. NSFW

Hey there anon! Thank you so much for the message, I’ll be glad to sign you up to the Sub! Leon fan club. Yes I’m totally listening, putting my ear real close to you right now.

I think the first time he cums like that, it will probably change his whole life and literally give his brain a hard reset. Like sure, he’s had good orgasms before, but never something that made black spots come into his vision, or something that made his legs shake the way they’re currently doing on the mattress. He never thought that sex could feel so good, and experiencing that much relief would genuinely be something that he’ll continue to ask for in the safety of another person who can provide that for him.

The way his mind just fizzles out when it happens, how there isn’t a single thought that goes through his head. It takes him off guard, how it’s just static between his ears and he’s stuck in a daze. For the first time in his life he’s not thinking about his trauma, about missions, about anything. His head is just empty and he loves it, and he finds himself someplace far away and wants to stay there for a while longer. To me, Leon is a sentimental guy, he’d be the type to cry during sex cause he’s clingy and affectionate. But when he’s the one on the receiving end, it makes him feel safe, and having someone who helps to genuinely make him feel good and focuses on his pleasure, he’ll be more inclined to cry from the release of it.

Poor baby is so pent up that the moment he cums he can feel his whole body shake from it. It starts from his thighs which nearly cramp from how hard they flex, and a chill runs down from his calves and to the balls of his feet. His toes will curl a little bit and his fingers will dig into the bed sheets, and he swears he feels his ears ringing from the force of it. He just starts mumbling under his breath, trying to get his heartbeat back to normal and is saying things like I love you in such a whiney voice that it doesn’t even sound like him. He’s babbling and saying anything that comes to mind as any logic just leaves him permanently. Tears down his face, drool running out of his mouth, face all red, he’s a damn mess but he’s your pretty mess. He’s so hypersensitive that any little movement or touch makes him jolt the slightest bit, and it’s almost embarrassing but he doesn’t have the brain power to give a fuck considering how good he feels.

You’d probably have to spend some time bringing him back to reality, praising him and kissing him over his body gently to calm him down. Leon would be so clingy afterwards, just wants to put his head on your chest and let you run your fingers through his hair, whispering sweet nothings in his ear that will ease him to sleep in 3 minutes flat. It’ll be the best he’s slept in a while too, getting a full 8 hours at least, just feeling warm and satisfied. And when you look down at him, there’s a small smile on his face as he sleeps, like he’s dreaming of something good and not having a nightmare, kissing his forehead as he dozes off with his limbs wrapped around you. You fuck him good and you baby him after, that’s what he likes and what he craves, and of course, you’re more than happy to provide.

Also, the fact that you said he’d start speaking Italian was so fucking funny, it made me chuckle. Very real. 😭

[libertyybellls]

BELIEVE ME NOW ?

pairing; mentor!finnick odair x reader

summary: finnick odair, to love you- to protect you, battles it out with tough love that you can’t quite see.

contains; ENEMIES TO LOVERS, fluff/tad bit of angst, finnick nearly breaking readers door down, ONE singular kiss is shared 😇, unspoken feelings, death/typical hunger games violence, comfort.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

you didn’t know why you hated finnick odair, but you know when it started. you knew it the minute he was assigned you mentor, the minute he put on an act and thought of himself to be better than you, and the second that he wouldn’t give you any reasonable advice before your games.

it was only when you’d won your games, did finnick finally feel for you, it ate him up inside- guilt, fear, shame, it all sickened him.

he sought death in his games, not of the other kids- but himself. but when you’re forced into that arena- when someone stronger, faster, smarter than you starts running towards you- desperate to hear that cannon sound, you fight. and he hated everything about how he fought- only to end up a possession to the republic, a slave to his own mind.

so when he saw you, wide eyed- sitting on that train- scared, unsuspecting, unprepared- he saw himself. he saw that fourteen year old boy stripped from his home, to end the game with blood on his hands.

you were older than he was then, but it didn’t matter if he was nineteen, thirty, even eighty- he’d give anything to have been lucky enough to die in that arena.

you’d arrived from your games a few days ago, only having seen mags. mags who had helped you before your games, signing to you how to find food and water, how to not get sick or hypothermic, die of heatstroke. mags, who brushed your hair after your first shower when all you wanted to do was curl in a ball and disappear, who sent you off to rest knowing if she hadn’t given you medicine you’d stay up- stuck in your head.

being in that hotel after your games was like a ghost town. all the other mentors and stylist sent home- only your own had been there. all the other kids were gone- quite frankly dead. the room next to yours vacant- your district partner, a boy you’d gotten to know quite well- someone you’d even call a friend, dead. just you left.

you’d just finished your interview, faking a smile, plastering on a look of faux happiness- preaching about how grateful you were to have made it out. dressed so extravagantly, so see-through, so indecent, your makeup so dissimilar to you- you couldn’t even recognize yourself.

you’d been rushing back to your room- rushing to hide away until you’d once more get back on the train and give a ‘victory’ tour.

finnick had been waiting for you, he had so many things he needed to say, to tell you- no, warn you about.

but as you strided towards him from the elevator, and let out a sharp; “what? here to take the credit from all the advice you gave me?” and slammed your door without batting an eye- the words were lost in his throat.

he started with knocking, simply calling your name, “can i please just speak to you?” then the knocks got harder, less distance in time between each one, then he was pounded on the white door incessantly. “y/n, open this door.”

your head was pounding, and you could care less for what glorious speech he was going to spew at you, “i don’t want your fucking pity story, finnick.” you tell back from the other side of the door- at this he pushes, and pushes the door until the lock gives.

when he sees you, your sitting on the edge of your bed- your heads in your hands, the lamp beside you is dim.

“what? what’s so important you had to force yourself into my room? do you think anything you say is going to change how you left me? you left me to die.” you were glaring at him. with so much hate behind your eyes he couldn’t take it anymore.

you thought you’d been nothing but kind to him, respectful, even after he’d won his games you still treated him normally once he’d gone back to district four- worst of all, you thought you deserved some type of help from him. but all you ended up being was dirt on his shoe?

“i was trying to protect you-“

you laugh incredulously at this, “trying to protect me? no, finnick. you wanted to protect malik-“ you waved your hand in the direction of the very empty, lifeless room of your district partner, “and look where your ‘help’ got him.”

“i mean, you made no effort to do so much as look my way, and now you want to talk? you’re of no use to me now. i already got through the worst of it- without you.” you continued rambling as you took of your necklace, your rings, your bracelets.

“trust me y/n you’ll realize victory isn’t the better option. so if you’d just fucking-“ he sighed, running his hand over his face and looking down. “if you’d just listen to me- you’ll see i’m trying to be your friend- to help you for what’s coming next.”

there’s a few beats of silence as he waits for your response, it’s deafening- you’ve completely paused in your action of taking out your earrings. “my friend?” you laugh, hair falling over your shoulders. “i don’t really like you, finnick.”

this perplexes finnick, shaking his head. “and i don’t really believe you, y/n.” he takes a step closer, breaking your imaginary bubble. “you know you were the only person who didn’t hover around me in our town after my games? the only person who never looked up to me? like i was this spectacle? waiting to see my next move?”

you take one step closer to him now, you can smell him- it’s of salt air and expensive cologne- and it’s unbearable. there’s heat emitting from his body.

“that’s called caring, finnick.” you look into his eyes now, for the first time. “and i’d only wish you’d have that same respect for me.”

there’s something he can’t understand about you, you’re constantly trying to fight back- you won’t admit defeat or accept help- just continuing your fight for survival. but he prays you know you don’t have to fight him, he only wants to help you.

“why do you think i’m here?” his eyes are pulling you in, his smell is suffocating you. it’s all a paradox. “you think im here to torment you further, y/n?”

truth be told, you don’t know why he’s here. you don’t know why he’s caring so much. but you’re here, standing inches away from him in your hotel room and admiring him- for reasons you can’t quite explain.

“snows going to do everything he can to make you feel small. he’s going to make you the capitols dream girl. he’s going to objectify you, and show you off like you’re a prize.” he takes a breath, you’re driven to further confusion- why does it look like this is hurting him too? “and you can’t fight it, because it will only have him sway more control over you. only more pain for you. and i won’t have that y/n.”

finnicks closer to you now, “i won’t-i cant have him take more of you.” from me, he wants to say, he wants to tell you that all he’s tried to do from the moment he met you as a boy, is protect you.

there it is again, that glint in his eyes- the utter, pure concern and passion, and you can’t take it. “don’t do that. don’t look at me like you care about me.”

finnicks face is not even an inch away from yours now, you can see the birthmarks on his neck- the freckles the sun has blessed him with that are so faint you wouldn’t have seen them before.

“i do.” he says like it’s the last words he’ll ever say. the air has left both of your lungs.

you keep this eye contact with him, like he can see your heart, and like you’re trying to read his mind. “i don’t believe you.” you mock his words from earlier.

he angles his head at these words, moving closer so your lips are touching-and your eyes flutter shut- but he hasn’t kissed you, not yet.

“i want to protect you until i can’t anymore. until im gone.” he doesn’t let you speak now, his lips stealing your words when they crash into yours. the movement is natural, fluid, soft.

he expects you to pull away, shove him off of you, tell him that you hate him- but you deepen the kiss much to his surprise.

you kiss him, pull him impossibly close to you until you can’t anymore- until your lungs now beg for oxygen- but all you want to do is breath him in. you pull away, and your eyes open, nearly in shock, but more in amusement.

“believe me now?”

-

masterlist

[awarrenswhore]

Not an Affair (M)

→ pairing | Phillip Graves x Reader

→ genre | smut, angst, domestic au! Fem!reader.

→ word count | 3,415

→ summary | You ended up getting involved with one of your parents' friends after getting back from college, had a few hot nights with him until you discovered he was married. You ended up developing feelings for him, but after finding out that he hadn't signed the divorce papers yet, you decide to throw everything in his face and end the affair. But god only knows how persuasive Phillip can be.

→ warnings |sex, Adult content, alcoholic beverages, low slang words. unprotected sex. cheating (the reader helps him to cheat or something like that)

→ A/N| I don't know what came over me, I just decided I was going to write a smut with Phillip Graves. English is not my first language so sorry for my mistakes. It's kind shitty lol

When you finally returned home, Phillip was in the kitchen, sitting at the counter with a bottle of Whiskey in front of him and two glasses. One of them was half finished, and the other was empty. As if he was waiting for someone to drink with him.

He was looking out of the window, sipping his whiskey and just staring out. When you got home he didn't even glance at you, he was just lost, trying not to think about the words you had said earlier. When he saw you enter the kitchen he looked up at you with a pained look in his eyes. He had already started drinking the whiskey hoping that it would numb the pain and make the conversation easier but he was just making things worst. He was feeling desperate to say something or get this over with because the longer it took the more the anxiety was building up inside of him. "Can I talk to you?"

You couldn’t help but feel like you should ignore him, act as if nothing had ever happened. But those sad blue eyes didn't let you continue on your way to your room. Then you walked to the other side of the counter, facing him.

His mind was already a mess of emotions, and now seeing your face made his heart beat uncontrollably fast. The anxiety he felt was at the peak and he just wanted to tell you everything so he could get this moment over with. You could see that he was trying to hide his pain but it was so evident that it would be impossible to not spot. He took one last sip of his whiskey and poured you a glass hoping you would join him.

You looked at the glass, then at him, and back at the glass, taking it in your hands and taking a sip. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"

"No" he said, taking a sip from his whiskey. "I just want us to get our minds relaxed. The last thing I wanna do is have this conversation while our minds are clouded, this is important to both of us."

"Okay, go ahead."

He took a deep breath in and let it out. Then he slowly began to speak. "the past few weeks we've been spending time together I thought we had something more. You felt different. But it all changed today when you threw my words back in my face like I was just using you for my own satisfaction, not once did I ever think that our relationship was just based on sex."

You shook your head, waiting for him to continue, too tired to argue.

"You didn't even try to listen to me. You just decided to get up and leave and I felt my heart crush into pieces when you said all of that to me. It's not right because what we had was not just sex. What we had was real, it was a true bond but it all seemed to mean nothing to you. I was hoping I could convince you to come back to me, but how can I do that if you refuse to believe me? You're too stuck in this stupid idea that I was only with you to have fun."

At times like this, I should use my smart mouth, but I felt like if I said something, it would only make the situation worse and we would fight again. You thought, just taking another sip of the drink and continued listening to him.

"You see the way I look at you every day, the way you make my heart feel like it's going to jump out of my chest, how could it have been only about fun? I'm sure you felt this way too, how could you not? The way my body responds to yours. We never acted selfishly or without thinking, I knew when I went in bed with you that I would get attached, I knew the risks and I knew what it meant to my life. You said all those cruel words and it felt like I've just been thrown away." He paused "I'm divorcing her... I just, i'm not the one for her. And she's not the one for me, you are. I wasn't just using you for your body. I've found someone that I felt was meant by me and it's you. I want you to be mine." Your silence was making him uncomfortable "Will you please just be reasonable and talk to me?"

You took a deep breath, staring at your empty glass. You wet your lips with your tongue before looking at him. “I Already told you how this situation bothers me and I know I shouldn't have gotten involved with you. But there's nothing I can do. You are the person who has to make a decision here, not me." you said calmly.

The moment he heard those words he felt like a sharp knife had stabbed him in the heart. You refused to talk to him and he wanted so badly for you two to work out. The marriage was already over so there was nothing stopping him from just ending it now and being with you. But now it all came crashing down on him when you said that there was nothing you could do. His eyes were locked into yours as he stood up from the chair and walked up very close to you, looking down at your face. "I already made my choice," he said softly "this whole time you were the one for me."

"I don't believe you." you said looking right at his eyes.

"Just let me show you." His eyes were filled with pain and desperation, he wasn't planning to let you get away this easily. "I'll do anything to prove to you that it was more than sex. How can you say you have feelings for me and then just shut me down at the same time? It doesn't make sense and I know you still have feelings for me too. You can't deny that. Please, let us talk about this."

"The only thing I know is that while we're having this conversation, you're still married to her. And until that ends, I won't fall for your charms again." You said decidedly. "You want me? You'll have me the day you sign the divorce papers. Until then, don't touch me." I got up.

His heart skipped a beat the moment you put the conditions so easily. "So... So you're saying you will take me back... Once I sign the papers?"

"If you sign the papers."

The excitement he felt at that moment was unbearable. He could already see the two of you together and living as a real couple. "I will." he said firmly, not even hesitating a bit.

Seconds later, they heard the sound of the front door opening and closing. Your mother's figure appeared in the kitchen, smiling. "Hey, what are you guys doing? Drinking? Pour me another glass because we need to celebrate." She said laughing, grabbing a glass for herself. "I got promoted at work." She said. That whole situation, you needed to put a smile on my face. "Congratulations, Mom."

The both of you had to act like there was nothing wrong between you two and it would be one of the hardest things to do right now. Your mother was being way too happy and had her full attention on the two of you. It was impossible to have a serious conversation now or to leave. She just had the best news and she deserved to be happy so you both had to act as if nothing was wrong and nothing was about to change.

"I'd like to stay to celebrate, but Ryan asked me out today. So I'd better go." you said taking short steps towards the door.

"Oh come on, can't you stay for at least a little bit?" your mother said. “Your Father is coming to celebrate too, he will be home soon.” She was excited to celebrate, it was odd that you were just leaving all of a sudden, The idea of you going out with Ryan made him feel like he was going to throw up.

"it's just a little celebration, it'll be fun." Graves tried to stay calm, not wanting to show the jealous in his eyes. "Once we finish, i'll take you to him."

You looked into his eyes. "No need, I'll take a cab." Phillip has no right to be jealous of me. You thought.

"I insist." He replied firmly "I'll take you."

"I'm just going to take a quick shower and come back." Your mother said going upstairs, leaving you and Graves alone again.

"And i said that i don't need you to take me, Phillip."

He was fighting the urge to scream internally. His fists clenched tight and he had to force his mouth from saying things that he would regret. "just listen to me for a minute. I know you don't need me to take you, ok? Just let me do it. I insist."

"Why? Just so you know where I'm going? For what? So you can show up there and ruin my date?”

The words were cutting him like a knife. He didn't even deny the reasons you gave him because they were true, he was going to ruin the date. He was jealous and you just made him acknowledge it. "Yes... That's why."

"You can't do that. I already told you, I will be yours the day you sign the divorce papers, until then, you will not touch me. But other guys will. Because if you can fuck her, I can fuck other guys."

That hit him like a bullet to the chest. Your words hurt him way more than if you had just slapped his face. The jealousy and the anger were making him furious, to realize that you could possibly meet other men made him feel sick to death. He couldn't let that happen, he wanted you, only you. Suddenly a wave of anger invaded his body and Phillip let his intrusive thoughts control him. He grabbed your throat and pushed you against the fridge, putting one hand behind your head so it wouldn't hit the fridge and hurt you. His breathing became heavy, and he placed his forehead against yours, lowering his face to your neck, smelling you, smelling your scent before pressing himself against you, trapping you between him and the refrigerator. He moistened his lips and pressed them together, alternating his gaze between your eyes and your mouth before focusing on your eyes.

"If you ever let another man touch you, I will kill them."

You couldn't help feeling excited by his actions, your entire body shivering with his words, the possessiveness that you had never seen in his eyes gave him even more charm and the desire you had to open your legs for him and let him ravishes you was almost uncontrollable. But you wouldn't let him think he was in control. “I don’t believe you.” You provoked him.

"You will." he hissed between his teeth, his voice sounding threatening as he pressed his lips and caressed your neck, with this eyes locked onto yours. You started to feel dizzy from his touch, and the smell of whiskey was heavy on his breath. His mouth was so close to yours and it made you feel so hot and weak. His body was pressing even harder against yours, and the air was becoming thick to breath. "I own you." he whispered against your lips "Don't you forget that." He said before kissing you passionately.

You felt like he had manipulated you, but when his lips met your, you forgot everything, your mind went blank and you could only press your body against his, desperate for more contact. Moaning against his lips, your hands went to his hair, and Graves's free hand went to your thigh, lifting it and fitting between your legs. His kiss was aggressive and breathtaking, and his right hand squeezed your throat using the right pressure to not leave you completely breathless, while his left hand stuck his fingers into your skin, the pain causing you more pleasure.

Your moans sent him over the edge, causing his grip to become tighter, his movements becoming rough and his kiss more urgent. As his fingers pressed into your skin you felt the intense sensation of his hand exploring your body. The combination of the pain and pleasure was making you feel all sorts of feelings that you never felt before. His mouth was still locked with yours and the sensation of him kissing you was getting more and more intense. Your mind was starting to blur and there was nothing else but the sensation of his touch and your body. He was getting close to kissing your neck and exploring everything and the thought of him exploring your body like this was making you shiver in pleasure and anticipation. He was losing control over you and he was making you his, there was no other way to explain it. He didn't think about anything else in that particular moment but being as rough as he wanted with you. His hands squeezed your skin and your body with all his force, not stopping till he felt like he had drained the last drop of your pleasure and desire for him.

Your cell phone started ringing on the counter, looking over Phillip's shoulder you could see that the caller ID was Ryan’s name. "I need to answer."

The ringing of your phone was the last thing he wanted to hear. He was so consumed by his desire to make you his again that the thought of another man calling your phone, or you answering it, was causing him pure rage. A wave of jealousy started to overwhelm him. Ryan, he couldn't stand the thought of your date still happening. He had to do something to stop it. And he would.

Graves didn't waste any more time, he let go of your throat, and unbuttoned his own pants and lowered them along with his underwear just enough for his hard cock to be free, he took advantage of the fact that your thigh was still around his waist and slipped his hand under your dress, pushing your panties to the side before pushing his cock into your soaked entrance, making you moan loudly as he filled you completely. He started to pound hard against you, so hard that the fridge behind you was shaking and banging against the wall behind it. It was impossible to control your moans, throwing your head back with your eyes closed, the feeling of being filled by him was too strong and you could barely breathe without letting out a grunt of pleasure.

Phillip smiled, ecstatic at that scene, seeing you so at his mercy. He then reached back, taking your cell phone, and without stopping his thrusts, he answered it. "(y/n)'s cell phone, who is it?" He asked and you immediately opened your eyes, widening them, letting out a loud moan when he gave a hard thrust, hitting your spot. You couldn't think of anything, you didn't even try to take the cell phone from his hand.

"Who are you?" The male voice on the other end of the line asked harshly.

"Do you hear that noise, asshole?" Graves said through gritted teeth. "That's the sound of my cock making (y/n) cum. Don't ever call her again, she already has an owner." And so he turned off the cell phone, throwing it on the floor and using his arm to hug the you, kissing you furiously while thrusting with speed, strength and skill. Graves grabbed your other thigh, pulling towards his waist having complete control of the situation, grunting and thrusting into your pussy like it was the end of the world.

And it didn't take long for both of you to reach climax.

You were breathing heavy, trying to normalize, your hearts beating in sync, sweat running down your bodies.

"What the fuck did you just do?" you asked, your arms Around his neck, hyperventilating.

"Nothing" he replied between his breaths "I'm just letting him know to stay away from you. I just claimed what was mine. I don't need another man bothering you." His breath was heavy and his voice was still filled with anger.He was leaning his body towards yours, his breathing was extremely heavy and you could feel his breath hitting your face, making you shiver. "That was a very pleasant feeling." He said with some difficulty, his voice was rough and his breath was full of desperation. "Do you know what else is going to be a very pleasant feeling? I will break anyone who dares come near you and that includes Ryan there. You are mine and mine only you hear me?" he said pressing his head into the side of your neck.

"Yeah, i hear you." You whispered. All your defenses were down and you felt like you were fucked.

A wave of pleasure and excitement had overwhelmed him and the thought of you giving in to him had made him feel so strong that he couldn't contain himself. "Good girl" he then began kissing your neck and caressing your back, pulling you towards him. You felt his finger trail down the back of your leg and pull up your dress. This was a feeling you loved and it made the both of you want each other even more. If only he could make you feel this way all the time...

"Fuck! My mom is upstairs." A wave of realization washed over and you pushed Phillip away, feeling his juices spill down your thighs. "Shit, if she finds us like this, she's going to be pissed." I picked up my phone from the floor. "Damn, what if she heard?"

"Shhh... She didn't hear anything." his voice was whispering close to your ear. The thought of your mother walking into this scene made him nervous as well, he didn't want to make this situation worse. "Just go to your room and clean yourself up. I'll clean the floor here." he replied hastily as he pulled up his pants and buttoned them. His body was sweating and his breathing was still heavy due to the intense pleasure the two of you had just experienced. "But don't even try to sneak out of your window to go to that stupid date."

"Well, it's not like I can now, you seem to have made it pretty clear to Ryan that I already have someone, he won't ever want to talk to me again, you idiot."

"Good" he grinned, satisfied at the fact that Ryan would no longer be a threat. "Besides, you're better off without him. You would be just another one in his long list of ex's. You don't need that. You need someone who is going to love you and take care of you and I am the only one who can do that."

"I'm not even going to try argue with you right now." you rolled my eyes and runned to the second floor.

While he cleaned up the mess that the two of you made inside the kitchen, he thought about what had just happened. The thought of that guy taking you out on a date and probably trying to do something intimate with you had filled him with so much rage that the thought of him touching you had made him go crazy. The jealousy and the desire had overwhelmed him and you didn't even fight back. You enjoyed every second of it, and he made sure that this feeling would continue and you would never have to worry about anyone else touching you. He smiled, satisfied that you had agreed to cancel your date and that you were going to be at home that night. The feeling that he had accomplished his mission made him want to jump and kick his legs, like a child. He was feeling euphoric and the only thought that was crossing his mind was having you to himself, without any other man in the picture. Graves was finally feeling like a human again.

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