#honorable mentions: better man and the very first night

[stillgotscars]

in honor of the 3-year anniversary of red tv, put your top three vault tracks in the tags (for reference: better man, the very first night, i bet you think about me, message in a bottle, run, forever winter, all too well 10 minute version, nothing new, babe)

[seokgyuu]

The Sweetest Thing

All your life you’ve been your sisters’ punching bag. Never good enough. Never fully accepted. When your mother makes one of them choose you as her maid of honor you reluctantly agree. Semi-vacationing in Tuscany with your ‘beloved’ family, you meet two handsome strangers one night and let them do whatever they want with you. Too bad you didn’t ask for their names first.

Pairing: Heeseung x F!Reader x Sunghoon 

Genre: Strangers to ???, Porn with Plot

Warnings: CHEATING!!! reader is hooking up with her sisters’ fiancés, sisters are horrible and suck, mentions of past verbal abuse, reader is somewhat a pervert (she defo is), heeseung & sunghoon definitely are perverts, heeseung & sunghoon are mean, they have nothing good to say about their fiancés, alcohol consumption, adult content MDNI! smut warnings under the cut

Word Count: 9.2k 

a/n: and here it is!! my little box of filth. i wanna give a shoutout to @c-oupsie for hyping this up and telling me to keep going, ilysm!! and also @chwepen for beta-reading!! sending you smooches. <3 now everyone, please enjoy this sausage fest.

Taglist: @skzenhalove, @haelahoops, @deobitifull, @shiningnono, @jakeswifez, @slut4hee, @gyuhanniescarat, @branchrkive, @doublebunv, @capri-cuntz, @jaehyuniewifeu, @whateverhoon, @c-oupsie

Smut Warnings: threesome, dom!heeseung, dom!sunghoon, sub!reader, lowkey public sex, p in v sex, throat fucking, unprotected sex (be smarter than this pls!!!), degradation (usage of the words: whore, slut, filthy, stupid (only indirectly?)), praise, tit job, mc is described to have big tits, sunghoon can carry mc, manhandling, cum eating, cum play, shower sex, consensual sex taping, pls tell me if i missed any!!

Pastel colors are slowly but surely becoming your greatest enemy. You can’t count how many different patterns and matches you have seen on this day alone - and the preparations for this wedding have been going on for months. 

In all honesty, you didn’t even want to be here. As pretty as Tuscany is - this is the last place you want to be at right now. You would rather sit at home and play a game, would rather sleep in and not have your mother be all over you, pressuring you to do better in a job you never wanted in the first place. 

It is your sisters’ wedding. Yes, sisters’. They are both getting married at the same time, same place. Just the grooms are two different men (even though you wouldn’t put it past them to share a man for convenience). Men, you haven’t even met yet. Men, that your mother and sisters kept on swooning over. Look, it is no surprise your sisters got lucky in that department; They are extremely conventionally attractive and they love doing fun things like going out and spending money on things they really didn’t need. 

You grew up with them being six and seven years older than you, making them already inseparable when your mum decided to push another one out. Getting along with them sure as hell wasn’t an easy task, in fact it still isn't. It’s pretty clear you only got the job as Linda’s maid of honor because your mother threatened her to do so. There was probably a very heated rock, paper, scissors round going on between your sister dearests to decide who got to have you. 

And now you are here. In warm, beautiful Italy with yet another color scheme to look over and authorize. You surely didn’t sign up to suddenly become the wedding planner as well. 

“Yeah, that’s perfect, thanks,” you say to one of the florists who are just now setting up the arrangements for the rehearsal dinner happening tonight. 

It’s hot, so hot that you have to take shelter every ten minutes because of the fear of burning up. You don’t usually like to spend this much time outside - let alone in the scorching hot sun, so this is rather the change for you. 

When the florists leave to get another load of flowers, you decide to take this as the next round of shade and air conditioning inside the resort your sisters have chosen for their special day. 

It’s insanely beautiful. High ceilings, incredible murals on the wall, a big round table in the center of the entrance hall with a crystal vase on top, filled with flowers that would make the florist outside turn green in envy. 

The air inside immediately cools you down and you take the moment to sit down in one of the arm chairs in the lobby to calm yourself. Only a week. That’s all you need to survive. A week with your sisters and their fiancés, soon to be husbands and your and their families. Guests would arrive the night before the wedding and as soon as the reception was over - you could finally leave and hopefully not see your sisters for another year or so. 

“Ah, there you are.” You close your eyes for a second. 

“Shouldn’t you be outside?” Linda and Liza are standing in the lobby in their designer sun dresses, very obviously judging you for not being where they want you to be. 

“I just came in to escape the heat for a second, that’s all.” You explain as you open your eyes again. The two certainly don’t look happy. In fact, they roll their eyes and flick their perfect hair over their shoulders.

“Okay, well, time is up. If this wedding doesn’t go according to plan, it’s on you.”

“You don’t want us telling mum you don’t care about your big sisters, do you? She’d be so disappointed knowing you aren’t doing your job right.” 

Your fists almost immediately ball into fists. How many times have they been like this over the three days you’ve already been here? You honestly lost count. One week. Just one week.

“I was just about to go back outside, don’t worry.” 

Anger well hidden away, you stand up and present them with a fake smile, moving to go back outside. 

“Oh and, Y/N?” Linda’s voice feels like a ray of ice hitting you, “try to look a little bit more presentable when talking to our staff. We don’t want them to think we can’t actually afford being here.” 

Your sisters giggle happily all while you bite your tongue once more. One week. Stay calm. One. Week. 

Something about the Italian sky seems different. Maybe it’s because you’re not close to a big city, but the stars shine brighter than you’ve ever seen them. It feels like a movie; the stars and moon so visible with no cloud in sight, the small street of Arezzo you’re currently sitting in - a small restaurant with a small menu but a nice older man that speaks decent English. A glass of wine standing on the small table beside you and the first bit of peace you’ve felt in days. 

It’s when you take your next sip of wine you see them. 

Two men straight out of a magazine walking towards one of the free tables next to yours and sitting down. There is nothing you can do but stare. Both of them have dark hair, one of them a bit shorter than the other. They are dressed elegantly, designer shoes and pants, blazers hanging over their chairs. Even if you wanted to - you could not possibly say which one was more attractive. 

What a nice way to end a horrible day, you think. Smiling, you finish your glass and immediately order the next, not entirely used to drinking so much, but not caring since you are miles away from home and no one here knows you anyway. The waiter nods and then proceeds to go over to the newcomers. The one with the slightly lighter hair and the mole on his nose orders in perfect Italian, with just enough of an accent for you to know they aren’t from here. Your choice of table appears to be perfect for watching them, listening to them converse in a language you understand. 

And it all stays innocent like this - they talk about their flight and about friends - until suddenly the conversation sways.

“I honestly- fuck, I can’t believe we’re actually doing this, you know?” The one with shorter hair says and his friend sighs, taking his wine glass and finishing it in one go. Impressive. There was at least half left in yours. 

“I don’t know what to tell you. We committed and now we’re fucked.”

“Just that we aren’t getting actually fucked.”

They look at each other before they laugh, shaking their heads. Meanwhile, your ears perk up. 

“Fuck, I really don’t know the last time she let me hit it, Hoon. I think I’m going crazy.”

“Yeah, same here. Like, yeah, we fucked once the day before her flight. But literally only missionary and she didn’t suck me off.”

“Again? Dude, is she ever even putting her mouth on it?” 

“Nope. Ever since we got engaged she’s like this fucking prude. Is yours like that too?”

“Yeah. I got her flowers and her favorite chocolates and she still wouldn’t even jack me off, like fuck, if it’s gonna be like this forever I can just go cut my dick off.”

Jesus. These two seem to be in very happy relationships. Makes you almost feel better to not be in one. Even if your mother would beg to differ. She’s been desperate for you to find a match for ages. For whatever reason, really, considering her two golden girls were about to get married to rich and handsome heirs. 

“Just one good blowjob, man, that’s all I want, really. I miss getting some good fucking head.”

The way short hair looks at mole - with so much understanding and pity, you can’t help but chuckle. Chuckle loud enough for them to take notice. 

Their gazes burn on your face before you even see them. But when you do your smile dies and instead makes room for horror. They heard you laugh at them. Even worse, they know you’ve been listening. Shit. 

Thankfully, you are three glasses of delicious white wine in and the fourth one is almost empty. Which means you aren’t the sweet little wallflower you’d usually be. Scary, how alcohol can change people.

“Oh, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have eavesdropped.” You apologize, placing your hand over your heart. 

“Agreed.” Short hair says, his eyebrow raised. Now, with both of their eyes on you, it seems like they are even more attractive. Perfect faces with pretty eyes and soft looking hair. Handsome men in unhappy relationships that fail to give them what they need. It’s almost comical how the switch in your head turns over, how the persona you normally never let anyone see until you’re in a secluded space comes out and gives you the courage to speak your next words.

“I just couldn’t believe my ears,” you let your finger glide over the rim of your glass, eyes on the two men with your tongue slipping out to lick over your bottom lip, “how anyone would be opposed to having sex with you.” 

Oh.

Sunghoon and Heeseung’s ears perk up just like yours did earlier. Eyes widen slightly as they understand the innuendo in your words. 

They think about the same thing - the last time they took a girl together. Probably during senior year in college. Back then, they used to do that regularly. Having almost the identical type in women. Instead of having to let her choose, she’d get them both. 

But it’s been years since then. They are in committed relationships now, about to get married. And still - neither of them can deny that you fall right into their usual prey, or well, the prey they’d chosen back in college before their parents had picked out their wives for them. 

It’s the way you look at them, the way your eyes say so much more than your words. It is also the way both of them feel like they are 22 again with nothing but getting their dick wet on their minds. One thing about Heeseung and Sunghoon - they always worked perfectly in a pair. Back in college and now, too. They can almost read each other’s minds at this point, only a short exchange of looks needed to know neither of them gave a single fuck about anything right now.

“Want to sit down with us?” Sunghoon asks and points at the free chair opposite them. You smile. 

“It’d be my pleasure.”

The very small bathroom stall is crowded with three people, but you make it work. 

Sunghoon is holding your head in place, his cock buried so deep down your throat he’s seeing red. You’re perfect. The sweetest thing on the outside, and a filthy little whore behind closed doors. You literally begged him to thrust down your throat without paying you any mind. You wanted, no, needed him to use your throat, to act like you were nothing but his little fuck toy. And, shit, he was more than happy to do exactly as you asked. 

His hips are moving in rapid speed, his groans music to your ears. Drool is running down your chin and dripping onto your knees. He is not holding back, he is just doing whatever he wants with you and you are throbbing. Throbbing around Heeseungs fat cock that is fucking into you with no care in the world. 

Heeseung is sitting on the toilet seat, his hands on your hips, cock rapidly leaving and entering your sopping hole. His head is literally spinning at how fucking good you feel. He bets you’d also sound fucking perfect if only Sunghoon’s cock wasn’t in the way. He can tell by the way you are already squeaking around his best friend’s cock, how your pussy is continuing to spasm around him after you already came on his cock once before.

“Take it, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Heeseung breathes out, hips speeding up and your eyes roll back into your head, your body seemingly on fire. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been fucked this good by a strange or, in this case, two strangers. All you know is that you’ve already cum before and that Heeseung surely will get you over the edge another time. He’s thick and veiny and he fills you up so good there was nothing you could do but cum after only a minute of him fucking you like an animal. 

“Shit, look at you,” Sunghoon groans, one hand now wrapping around your throat, his eyes glossy as he stares down at you, still fucking down your abused throat, “you’re a perfect little fucktoy, aren’t you? Enjoy being used by two cocks, huh? Fuuuuuck, you’re gonna make me cum, fucking slut.”

Heesung feels you squeeze around his cock, feels the way you suck him in even deeper. 

“This filthy little thing likes when you talk to her like that, Hoonie. Squeezing my cock so fucking hard.” His head tips back and his mouth drops open as he focuses on his pleasure, already fantasizing about stuffing you with his cum. He moves his hands up, squeezing your perfect tits over your dress and you moan around Sunghoon’s cock, tears streaming down your face. Every touch, every thrust, every word is getting you closer to another high. With Heeseung’s hands on your breasts you can freely move your hips now, bouncing up and down on Heeseung’s cock, matching his thrusts perfectly. 

There is no chance Sunghoon will last much longer. Your mouth, your throat - he’s scared he already developed an addiction to them. Maybe it’s the long time he hasn’t experienced anything like this, but right now it feels like no throat has ever taken his cock so well before.

“Where should I cum, huh? Down your throat? On your pretty face?” Sunghoon groans, his cock twitching over and over before he finally pulls out, jerking himself off so you can answer the question. 

“Cum on her tits, look at those fucking perfect tits, bro.” Heeseung decides to answer for you and Sunghoon smirks as he watches Heeseung get your tits out of your dress for which you thankfully don’t need a bra. Your perfect tits bounce free now and Sunghoon nods, eyes glued to them and how they bounce now that Heeseung continues to fuck into you, your back now arched against him. 

“Fucking hell, such fat fucking tits,” Sunghoon is in a trance, mouth dropped as he jerks himself off with the help off your spit and his precum. 

“Tell him to cum on your tits, slut, come on, tell him how much you want his cum all over you,” Heeseung whispers into your ear, his cock still continuing to ram into your g-spot like it has never done anything else. 

You moan loudly, eyes flying open and Sunghoon almost doesn’t need you to say anything - your fucked out face could well be enough to make him cum. 

“Pl-please g-give me your cum, want it a-all over my tits, pl-please, need it so bad!” You cry out and Sunghoon feels his orgasm hit him, thick spurts of cum landing on your tits and neck, some even on your lips that you hungrily lick off of them, only making another spurt come out of Sunghoons cock. 

“Holy fucking hell, shit,” he groans, falling against the stall door, his chest heaving. 

Heeseung, meanwhile, grabs your hair and tilts your head back as he does his final thrusts, filling your pussy with his seed, white making you feel warm inside and tipping you over the edge, milking him for all he has with your own orgasm, high pitched moans escaping you as your toes curl and your hands grip the material of your dress. 

Once he’s done fucking both of you through your orgasms, Heeseung helps you up, his cock slipping out of you. You’re a little shaky on your legs and Sunghoon catches you before you can fall, his eyes immediately going to your tits that are covered in his cum. He licks his lips. 

“If we had more time I’d take you to my room and fuck those tits until they are covered in even more layers of my cum, baby.” He mumbles, one finger scooping up some of his release and shoving his finger in your mouth, watching in awe how you eagerly suck it clean. 

“Holy fuck, you’re perfect.” Heeseung has put his cock back into his pants, considering to get it back out just to have you lick it clean of your and his juices. He decides against it mainly because he knows there isn’t much time. He and Sunghoon have to get back to the hotel, their fiancés probably awaiting their return. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” Sunghoon says, but you shake your head, only putting your tits back into your dress and stepping back into your panties.

“I wanna keep it for a bit, keepsake if you will.” 

Both men are silent. Where the fuck have you been before they got engaged to the sisters from hell? For a second they contemplate just keeping you. Using you for when their soon to be wives were being difficult again. 

Obviously, though, this was just a fantasy not meant for reality. 

Perhaps it’s well deserved. Having the worst morning all week, the day right after you fucked two strangers in a restaurant’s bathroom. Two engaged strangers. It’s not a surprise that you didn’t care about the blurred lines of their… relationship status, considering you’ve had quite a few hook-ups with married men who were out of town and needed someone to fulfill their needs while their perfect trophy wives were sitting at home waiting for them. Not the proudest thing you’ve done, but whatever gets you cumming. 

Today, your sisters seem to have it out for you especially. You blame it on the nerves, after all their perfect fiancées are about to arrive today. Everything needs to be in order, their dresses, their hair, their nails, everything. 

You’ve become their personal stylist, nail artist and hairdresser all for nothing more than a chuckle at the way your shirt rises up and shows your stomach that they love to comment on. It’s a win-win situation, for sure. 

“Can’t you see you’ve made a mistake!” Liza screeches, pointing at her (to your eyes) perfectly drawn eyeliner. You blink at her and take a deep breath. Six days. 

“I apologize.” Quickly, you move to fix your error, but your sister slaps your hand away and rips the pencil out of your hand.

“No, thank you. I’ll do it myself, like everything else, you useless piece of trash.”

Six. Days. 

Since there is no point in responding to her, you only nod and turn to Linda who is currently checking herself out in her hand mirror. 

“Anything I can do for you?” You ask, feeling ridiculous. One could think you’re their personal assistant and not their younger sister. 

“Just get out, Heeseung and Sunghoon are about to arrive and I don’t want them seeing you first thing, imagine their shock.”

Heeseung and Sunghoon. 

Something rings in your head. Had they ever mentioned their fiancés names before? Probably - why else would they be so familiar to you. 

“Alright. I’ll be by the pool then.” 

Neither of them deems it appropriate to even slightly acknowledge you before you leave the room.

A huge sigh leaves you the second you step out of Linda’s room and instead head for your own. Just a quick change into a bikini and down you go. A few hours in the sun, maybe a couple laps in the pool. Another bit of peace while your sisters are occupied. Sounds like the perfect morning to you. 

Just that, when you reach your room and change into said bikini - you notice a bruise right above your hip. Your eyes widen at the sight, moving closer to the mirror to inspect it. There is no other possible reason but what happened last night. 

“Shit,” you mumble, looking around your clothes for this one light pink scarf you could easily wrap around your hips as some sort of cover. The last thing you want is for your sisters to see this and ask questions. Bad enough you had the face and figure you had - imagine their outrage if one of these was even further damaged! 

For as long as you can remember your sisters had been your biggest haters. No matter what you did, if you changed your hair or your wardrobe, they’d be mean to you about it. To them, you were nothing but an unwanted addition to a family they had deemed already perfect. Neither of them had ever wanted another sibling, especially not six and seven years apart from them. Suddenly, you were the center of attention, had your mother cradling you and loving you and not giving them the attention they were sure they deserved. 

Even now, at their grown ages, about to get married, they couldn’t seem to get over it. 

From an outsider's perspective their lives were fairly more successful than yours. With great jobs in high positions, a perfect routine that included gym visits four times a week, and of course their perfect soon-to-be husbands. If it weren’t so frustrating it might have been funny how they literally kept them from you - kept everything from you. Blocked you from their socials to not be associated with you, living in their own little bubble, acting like you didn’t exist. 

So, expect your surprise when Linda called and asked you to be her maid of honor. You had only accepted because you know your mother would be devastated if you didn’t. 

That all seems like an okay trade for the view of the hotel pool right by the beach, your body rubbed in sunscreen and your sunglasses on top of your nose listening to music and enjoying your moments without a sister (or mother) around to tell you what to do. 

But your life wouldn’t be yours if your peace weren’t suddenly interrupted by the high pitched laugh of one of your sisters floating through the air and reaching your ears. It hadn’t even been half an hour. Maybe, you think, they won’t even come over. After all, they had hidden you away from them for as long as they had been together. Perhaps they wanted to wait til the day of the wedding next week to finally introduce you. 

Curiosity gets the best of you at last. Who are these men they’ve been gatekeeping from you, who have been nothing but your mother’s pride? Slowly, you turn into the direction of the high pitched laugh, opening your eyes behind your sunglasses. 

And the world around you seems to shake. 

“No fucking way,” you breathe out, moving quickly to get up. Panic arises within you, sheer ugly panic that has your body shaking. This can’t be true. This can’t be happening! You move to throw your phone and headphones onto the lounge chair, your eyes darting back and forth between here and your sister’s location, finally freeing yourself of all the things that can’t get wet to jump into the pool. It seemed like the only way not to get noticed by them. 

There are several other people in the pool and the splash of you jumping in had been drowned out by the sound of a child laughing and screaming. You stay underwater for a good while, thanking your strong lungs, and only come back up when you feel like enough time has passed for them to have left - only to be met by absolute horror. 

They had taken seats right next to your stuff. In their bathing suits from Chanel or Prada or whatever, they looked breathtaking. Not that they would ever get into the pool. It wasn’t them, though, who made your blood turn cold and the insides of your stomach threatening to say hello again - it was their fiancés. 

Short dark hair, beautiful faces. One with a mole on his nose. The other with clear shock in his eyes. 

The men from last night. 

As if to remind you further, you feel the bruise on your hip suddenly starting to throb with pain. You wince and look down, noticing your make-shift cover up being gone. Wonderful. 

Your sisters notice you now, their eyes widening when they see you in the state you’re in. Dripping with water, your hair pushed back out of your face, your body dressed in nothing but a flimsy bikini. They had always envied you for your breasts - not that they would ever admit this. But seeing them right now made them even angrier, after  all Heeseung and Sunghoon were right here and could see those monstrosities! 

And yeah, they see. See your body in that bikini that is leaving nothing to the imagination. See your tits almost falling out of the bikini top - tits that were covered in Sunghoon's cum not even 24 hours ago. They see your pretty face, your long eyelashes, droplets of water sliding down your soft skin. 

Heeseung and Sunghoon don’t realize the gravity of the situation yet, right now all they think about is how they’ve hit the jackpot because you’re in the same hotel as them. Right now, neither of them knows who you are besides the girl they’ve fucked the night before. 

“Y/N!” Liza screeches, “get out of that pool right now, you look ridiculous!” 

Linda gets up and grabs one of the towels next to her, throwing it into the Pool. She wants you to cover up, needs you to cover up. 

It is then that Sunghoon and Heeseung slowly understand. Your name. They have heard that name before. Time and time again. 

“Mum made me pick my ugly little sister as my maid of honor, Hoonie, can you believe her?” 

“Ugh, Y/N, called today. Wanted to congratulate us. Can you believe her? I bet she is so jealous, Hee, she could never get a man to stay. She’s just… too…. ew.”

You’re their sister. Their little sister they have nothing good to say about. 

You. The girl from last night. The girl who potentially could become the best fuck of both of their lives. 

If they had been able to, they would have looked at each other. But they are too mesmerized by you getting out of the pool with the towel wrapped around your body, or at least around your upper half. They can still easily see your legs, your perfect thighs, the little bikini bottom that does almost nothing to cover up your ass, can see the bruise that is a clear indication of what happened last night. It’s safe to say they are both growing harder in their trunks. Relatively bad timing. 

“Sorry, I told you I would be at the pool,” you mumble once you get out, grabbing for your stuff.

“I don’t think so, I would have remembered that!” Liza hisses, her arm sneaking around short hair. So, he must be Heeseung. Heeseung who had his cock buried inside of you mere hours ago and whose cum was most likely still inside of you. 

“Just go back upstairs,” Linda shoos you away with her hand and you let your eyes wander to mole next to her. Sunghoon, then. Sunghoon who had been craving a mouth around his cock, Sunghoon who had his cock in your mouth, who had cum all over your exposed tits. 

Your body heats up and you quickly turn around to leave. 

“It was nice to meet you!” Sunghoon calls after you and you swallow hard, not turning back to them before you leave. 

Dinner that night is horribly awkward, to say the least. The fact you’re even allowed to participate is insane. Your parents are delighted to welcome you once you sit down, your sisters and their fiancés showing up a little while after you. 

As it turns out, the two men had insisted you’d join them for dinner. Judging by the way they look at you, you feel like they’d rather have you be their dinner. 

Nothing could have prepared you for this. For the utter want you see in their faces, the utter want you feel in your bones. It makes all of dinner extremely awkward, makes you press your thighs together, shove around your food on the plate because suddenly your appetite is for something entirely different. 

But you know you can’t. The first time, so you tell yourself, was fine because you didn’t know who they were. You even go as far as to blame your sisters for this, after all they had never bothered to show you what Heeseung and Sunghoon look like. 

Now, it’s different. Now you know who they are. And as much as you despise your sister’s, you don’t think you could do this to them. 

… Or at least that’s what you tell yourself. Because the second you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and find yourself pressed against yet another stall door, you know you’ve been lying to yourself.

It’s Heeseung, his hands on your hips, digging into the bruise on your side, having you moan in no time.

“What are the fucking odds, hm?” He whispers, his breath hitting your face. You open your mouth to answer, but Heeseung dips forward, his tongue sliding into your open warmth, his lips pressing down on yours. It doesn’t matter what you thought of before, doesn’t matter who he is. Your body is taking over, melting against the strong man, against his chest and arms. 

Heeseung kisses you hungrily, like he has been starving for days. He had wrapped his hand around your wrist and yanked you into the one bathroom stall for men, had claimed you as his for the next few minutes.

“We-we can’t!” You cry out, pushing him away, but Heeseung only grabs you harder, turning you around, your chest hitting the door and a gasp escaping your mouth.

“If we can’t, why are you so fucking wet, baby?” His fingers are inside your cunt the next second and your eyes roll back, hips already chasing his touch. He smirks behind you, shoving your dress up with his free hand. Your backside is a sight to behold and he licks over his lips before landing a slap to your right ass cheek. You squeak. 

“I guess bathroom stalls are just our thing now, aren’t they?”

Just that this one is spacier. You’re pressed against the door that leads right into the open restaurant. You can hear the people outside, can hear the sound of cutlery meeting plates, of glasses clinking. 

“Hee-Heeseung, yo-you’re my sister’s fiancé!” You tried again, even though your hips were already bouncing on his fingers. Heeseung chuckled lowly.

“Don’t tell me now you care about the fact I’m in a relationship. It seemed like yesterday you couldn’t wait to get this taken cock shoved into your pussy.”

He’s not wrong. You bite down on your lip and turn slightly, looking over your shoulder into his dark eyes. God, he’s beautiful.

“Please,” you pout then, and his smirk comes back, his nimble fingers freeing his rock hard cock. You lean back against the door, your cheek pressed against the cold wood, your hands on either side of your head. Your pussy is dripping down his fingers and once he removes them, you’re already impatient to feel his huge cock fill you up.

Wiggling your hips, he lands another slap on your ass before shoving his cock into you, both of you groaning once he bottoms out. 

Then, he doesn’t show you any mercy. One of his hands sneaks around you, pressing down on your mouth to keep you quiet as he fucks you right into the door. He is panting, staring down at the way his cock slides in and out of you over and over again. His other hand fishes for his phone in his pocket, halting his thrusts for only a second to concentrate on opening the camera on the phone and hitting record. 

“Need to bring Hoonie something to jerk off to later,” he grins as he continues to fuck you, your moans getting numbed only by his hand. He just feels too good. Feels like no other cock you’ve had before. He’s big, wide and so god damn veiny. Every vein seems to drag along your walls, seems to push you closer to the edge. Your eyes are rolling back as your ass bounces off his hips, as his thrusts become sloppier with every second. He needs to cum soon and so do you. There isn’t much time for this, no time in fact. But he’s been craving you, and so has Sunghoon. Thank all the luck in the world for him to have won that rock, paper, scissors round. 

“God, you take it so well, you’re such a good little whore, aren’t you? All ready to go when I need to get my cock in you, fuck.” 

Heeseung’s words make your pussy spasm around him, his next groan deeper than before. He changes the angle slightly, fucking into you faster and harder, his orgasm getting closer with every little squeeze of your pussy. 

“Gonna cum so hard into your pussy, gonna have you sit at that table with my cum trickling into your panties.” He breathes into your ear and bites into your earlobe after, causing you to triple over the edge and cum hard around his cock - taking him right with you. 

He curses as he fucks both of you through your orgasms, his cum filling you up, warming you from the inside. 

Planting kisses on the back of your neck, Heeseung pulls out, watching his release drip out of you. 

“I could get used to this,” he says and puts your panties back into its rightful place. 

It doesn’t stop there. And it also doesn’t stop with Heeseung. But while Heeseung is more daring (coming to your hotel room at night, sending you pics of his dick after a shower, telling you to send him a voice note of you cumming), Sunghoon decided to take his time to make his move. You know it’s coming. You just don’t know when. 

Heeseung is like a wild animal - he can’t get enough of you. He wants to have his hands on you, his dick in you and his cum all over you as many times as he can. But the week only has seven days, and you only have four more to go until this whole thing is over and they are married to your sisters. 

Four days until you won’t be around them all the time, four days until Heeseung won’t be knocking on your door at two in the morning asking you to get on your knees. He fucks you like he owns you, like he knows your time is limited. It is, after all. He leaves marks where it is hard to spot them, kisses you in places no one has ever kissed before. 

Yes, the nights with Heeseung are special and steamy and perfect - and yet you wonder where Sunghoon is in all of this. You see the way he looks at you, and you did get a dick pic from him the night you and Heeseung fucked at that first dinner, courtesy to him seeing the video Heeseung took of you. And that is the thing, Heeseung films you. He films you when you’re on top of him, when he’s behind you, when you got his cock down your throat, when you’re bouncing up and down his cock. All of it goes straight to Sunghoon, all of it leads to Sunghoon cumming all over himself in the bathroom and sending you a picture of it. He never leaves his room, though, never does anything about it.

It’s day minus three til the wedding and you’re at the beach with everyone. The other maid of honor has arrived, and so have the two best men. Jake and Jay, they had introduced themselves as and judging by the way they were looking at you… they knew exactly who you were. If you weren’t so busy with Heeseung, you’d gladly have slipped into one of their rooms at night. 

You’re laying on your towel, happy to have everyone around you be busy with something that isn’t you. Your book is in your hands, the words getting more and more raunchy, your thighs pressing together. Perhaps this isn’t the best place to read smut, but it’s not like you have any control over when these scenes happen in the book. You just know every word hits you deep and has you biting down your lip. Even with the soreness still left between your legs from last night's visit, you feel yourself growing wetter with every sentence. 

“In broad daylight, sweetheart, really?” 

The voice makes you flinch, your book flipping closed as you turn around, spotting Sunghoon standing right above you. He is wearing a slight smirk on his lips and you feel your cheeks heat up. Not just because he caught you with your book but because he’s standing there in nothing but his trunks, a cup of iced coffee in his slim hand. His chest is defined, so are his abs. His arms look strong, toned, like they could throw you against a wall and hold you there. You swallow the lust that is daring to come up.

“What do you want?” You hiss, sitting up and looking at him. 

He hasn’t really talked to you much. Too busy giving you looks and pretending like he didn’t when your sister or parents or any other already arrived wedding party approached him. 

“What would I want?” Sunghoon asks back, tilting his head. The view he has from up here, your tits sitting in your bikini top, looking as delicious as they always did. It takes all in him not to drag you up and take you in front of everyone. 

You snort and roll your eyes, turning back to your book.

“Well, if there is nothing you want, you can leave me alone.” 

He watches you, how you lay back on your stomach, how you open the book and look for the page you just read. Licking over his lips, he roams his eyes over you. At this point, he has lost count of how many times he’s looked at you. How many times he has waited in the bathroom at night for Heeseung to send the videos, the pictures. As much as he was jealous, he enjoyed looking at you as he used his lubed up hand to get himself off. Except… for the last two days. He hasn’t sent you a picture of him with his cum all over his torso or thighs for two days because he simply hadn’t let himself reach climax. He’s been edging himself for all this time, waiting for the right time to unload all of his seed… preferably on you. 

It doesn’t feel like enough. Just getting to watch you through a screen, imagine what you would feel like. Your mouth, he remembers. Vividly. Your pussy… he can only wonder. Only guess when Heeseung sends him those videos or when he tells him before they head down to breakfast. 

Letting his eyes wander over your frame, your neck and back, your hips and ass, your legs… 

“Get up.” He says. You don’t move. 

He growls.

“I said,” his voice is low and warmth gathers at your core, “get up.”

It is when you still don’t move, Sunghoon feels his patience run thin. He places his iced coffee on one of the tables next to the lounge chairs.

Then, he is quick to pull you up, both his hands on your hips, a yelp coming out of you as he skillfully gets you on your feet. You stare at him with wide eyes and your mouth agape. Oh… your mouth. He has to restrain himself - already half hard in his trunks. Sunghoon looks around, sees his fiancé in a conversation with your mother. An idea flashes before him and he smirks slightly, alarm bells ringing in your head. What is he planning?

Not even a second passes when he grabs his iced coffee and spills it all over himself.

“God, watch where you’re going!” He yells, making all of your family members and their friends look at you. This little shit. 

Linda immediately jumps to her feet.

“Look what you’ve done!” She screeches and you press your lips together, acting the part of the guilt ridden sister.

“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to!” You defend yourself, but your sister just shoots you a deadly gaze. 

“My darling, are you alright?” She is looking at Sunghoon now at his coffee stained self. He shakes his head.

“I really wanted that coffee. And these are my favorite trunks,” he sighs, “come on, Y/N, you’re gonna get me a new coffee.”

“I can get you a new coffee, babe!” Linda tries, her fingers wrapping around Sunghoon’s arm. It fills you with a sense of triumph when he moves out of her grip.

“You didn’t do this, honey. She did. Go back to your lounging.” He says it to her, but looks at you. And, god, you don’t think you’ve ever been more aroused in your life. 

It starts in the elevator up to his room. His hands are on your tits and your tongue is in his mouth. He groans when he feels you grabbing around his cock, hand swiftly inside his swimming trunks. There are no words being exchanged, only moans and sighs and gasps as he presses you against the wall, your kisses getting deeper and heavier by the second. 

Sunghoon has never wanted anyone as much as you right now. His cock is begging to be freed, leaking into his trunks. His thoughts are spiraling, a part of him just wants to push those skimpy bikini bottoms to the side and just fuck you right here, no matter if someone could walk in at any second, the other wants to take his time, bring you to his room and explore every inch of you. 

When the elevator stops at his floor, he drags you out, glad no one is around to see as he pushes you against the wall next to the now closing elevator doors, his hand immediately moving between your legs. He moans at the wetness already there. Well aware you haven’t been in the pool or the ocean today. 

“Fuck, look at you. So fucking wet.” He mumbles against your lips, pulling them into yet another heated kiss just as his fingers slip underneath your swimming suit, making you whimper. Your hips roll against his hand and he bites down on your bottom lip, fingers getting closer to where you want them, need them, the most. 

But he pulls away, grabbing your hand and leading you to his room, getting the keycard out of the small pouch he had in the pockets of his trunks. You watch as he opens the door, watch as impatience and need radiate off him and another feeling of triumph, of confidence overcomes you. He is actively choosing you over your sister. He wants you not her. 

Once you’re inside and the door is closed, you find yourself stuck between him and yet another wall, or in this case, door. His first mission is to get your tits out, his hands losing the strands of your top, the little fabric falling onto the floor a second later. He licks over his lips.

“I’ve been dreaming of these, baby,” he whispers, “come on, get on your knees.”

You do as told instantly. Dropping to your knees, eyes focused on him and only him. On how he now shoves his trunks down slowly, his cock, hard and red at the tip, springing free for you to admire. Your pussy starts throbbing. How badly you want him inside you, how badly you want him to fill you up with his cum, joining Heeseung’s from last night. 

“Open up, slut.” Again, you obey. Your mouth drops open, tongue sticks out and Sunghoon’s cock twitches at the sight. This is what he has been dreaming about. Your mouth around his cock, your perfect heavy tits naked and oh-so ready to be painted like that first night. 

“Good girl, so, so obedient.” He moves closer, right hand around his cock as the left is leaned against the wall, helping him keep his balance. Slowly, he brings the tip of his cock to the tip of your tongue, watching as you lick over it immediately. His eyes don’t leave yours when he begins shoving it in, his chest heaving. There is a good chance he might not last long, but he won’t let you leave this room without his cock having been inside you and if that means going again right after his first or second load. 

You take him like a pro. Feel him slide down your throat, hitting the back of it before going even deeper. You choke just slightly, breathing through your nose. He stops only when he is fully buried, his breath getting heavier with every passing moment.

“You take it so fucking well, what a good little whore.” Sweat is pooling at the top of his forehead, his knees about to give in. He begins to move his hips slowly at first, but when you tap his thigh, he takes it as a sign to go harder. And, shit, does he go harder. Throwing his head back as he brings both his hands to your head, holding it in place as he thrusts down your throat over and over again. His balls hit your chin whenever he moves to bury himself again, his moans and groans nothing but music to your ears. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck!” He groans in pleasure, pulling his cock out and the next thing you know there is cum all over you. Your tits are full with his seed, your neck, your chin, your face. You gasp slightly, staring at him with your lips swollen from the roughness of his movements. He breathes hard, hand around his cock to hold it steady as waves of his pleasure make more cum land on your tits. 

“That’s right, look at you, fuck,” his eyes are glossy watching your tits covered in his cum, his cock not losing any of it’s hardnes even after the amount of cum he just left on you. It’s not hard to notice. Your fingers scoop up a bit of it, sucking them clean and not letting him out of your sight. Sunghoon feels like he might have reached heaven. 

“You’re so fucking filthy,” he grumbles, pulling you up by your arms and crashing your lips against his again. He pulls you to the bed and pushes you down, watching your cum-covered tits bounce as you fall. You know what he wants and you slightly sit up, your elbows behind you, watching as he moves on top of you. His eyes are still so full of hunger, of need, of pure and hot lust. 

His cock slides between your tits, his hands pushing them together around it. Then, he begins to thrust again. Just like he had wanted back at the restaurant. Fuck your tits covered in his cum, add a little more. 

You feel like the luckiest woman on earth with him like this. Using you to get off, his cock fucking your tits like a madman, whimpers and moans and groans, his head thrown back as he enjoys the feeling. It is even better than his imagination. Every second feels like he’s gonna ascend any moment now. His skin is tingling with desire and he wonders if it’ll ever stop. Right now, he thinks, he could probably go on for hours, for days. Just you and him and your tits and your mouth and your pussy. 

When he looks down again, sees the way you look at him, see the way his cock looks sandwiched between your breasts, Sunghoon can’t help but cum again, less than before but still enough to cover your chest and neck, adding even more paint to the already perfect canvas. 

Exhaustion is starting to spread through his bones, but he’s ignoring it. Instead, he pulls you up with him again, kissing you hard, fingers now finally finding their way into your bottoms again. He shoves them inside you immediately. 

“Sunghoon!” You cry out, fingers gripping his strong shoulders as he places you on his lap, straddling him. He fucks you with his fingers, hard and fast. Your pussy squeezes them, your arousal dripping onto his bare thighs.

“So, so wet. So fucking filthy with my cum all over you. Tell me, baby, are you a whore?”

“Y-Yes!” You squeak. He grins wickedly, adding a third finger to the two. You cry in pleasure, bouncing up and down on his long, perfect fingers.

“So eager to be called a whore. Fucking a taken man, two taken men. Your sister’s men. Aren’t you ashamed?” He breathes into you ear and you moan again, nails digging into his skin.

“N-No!” You answer and he laughs quietly, thumb now pressing down on your clit. You feel the first tears starting to pool in your eyes.

“Oh, but you should be. Such a dirty fucking whore, full of cum, getting her pussy fucked by her sister’s fiancés fingers,” He chuckles, “and soon his cock.”

You reach the edge just then. When he promises you his lengths, when he tells you how ashamed you should be. As if you don’t know. That’s what makes this whole thing so ridiculously hot. 

He fucks you through your orgasm, kissing your mouth again, tongues slashing against each other in a heated fight. You need him to fuck you. Right now. And as if he could read your mind, Sunghoon picks you up, hands underneath your thighs, lips never leaving yours and brings you to the spacious bathroom. 

First, he fucks you in front of the mirror. Makes you watch yourself, getting fucked like a cheap whore by his sister’s soon-to-be husband. He makes you lick his cum off his fingers, thrusts them as deep down your throat as his cock is penetrating you. 

Your pussy might be the best he’s ever had. The second he was buried inside of you, he knew he was done for. Knew this couldn’t be the last time he did this. Every bit of you, he wanted for himself. He even thought about asking Heeseung to back off, which he knew his best friend never would. Not with you. Not when you were this perfect. Fulfilling their every need, letting them do with you whatever they wanted. 

When he gets you in the shower, he washes the drying cum off of you softly. He’s still inside of you, his still not fully satisfied cock. You squeeze around him, throb around him. You need him to do more, he knows it as well as you. But he’s gentle. Uses a sponge to get every bit of his seed off your body, his lips kissing your cheeks, lips, nose, neck and breasts. It’s almost too soft for you. 

This is supposed to be about nothing but sex. He is supposed to fuck you, call you names while you’re at it and then disregard you. Instead, he’s being gentle. 

That is, until the door outside opens and your sister’s voice interrupts the softness. It makes room for yet another wicked grin and Sunghoon’s first thrust inside of you for minutes. Your hand flies to your mouth covering the pathetic whimper that would have come out. Sunghoon’s eyes sparkle.

“Hoonie? Are you in the shower?”

He begins to thrust again, his hands on your hips, staring into your eyes as he gives you his fucking all. Your eyes roll back.

“Yes, darling. Your stupid sister managed to get me all sticky with that coffee!”  

Your pussy fluttered at the words. He grinned wider.

“Oh, like it when I call you stupid?” He whispers into your ear, cock twitching rapidly as he bites into your neck, hips showing you absolutely no mercy.

“Ugh, I am so sorry about her! She’s not just a klutz, she’s also insanely dumb. I can’t wait to never see her again after this is done.”

Perhaps these words would have hurt you, if Sunghoon wasn’t railing you like the god he was. Every thrust was smooth and yet hard enough to make your toes curl. He made quick work to lift you up, your legs now wrapping around his middle as he continued to fuck into you, moaning into your neck to drown out the noise. 

“Yeah, she is a real piece of work,” he finally replied, his eyes staring into yours as he smirked. 

“No wonder she can’t get a boyfriend! Who would ever want to be with that?” 

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, pressing his body closer to yours, kissing you again, his tongue licking sensually over your bottom lip. It makes a shiver run down your spine. 

“Anyway, where did she go? I didn’t find her in her room.”

Sunghoon reluctantly parts from you.

“No clue. She got me a new coffee and stormed off like the big baby she is.” 

He grabs your tits again, squeezing and massaging, nipple between forefinger and thumb, leaning down so he can put it in his mouth and suck and bite down, your hand on your mouth pressing down harder. 

You explode around him. Squirt like a fucking porn-star, liquid shooting out of you and down his legs, mixing with the water of the shower. Sunghoon’s knees are once more about to give in. He moans against your lips, hoping Linda didn’t hear and at the same time also hoping she did. Your climax makes him cum for the third time that day, his hot semen filling your spent pussy, painting it white like the clouds. 

“That, she is indeed,” Linda laughs, “anyway, we’re gonna go get dinner in the city, baby. I’ll be at Liza’s room, love you!”

Sunghoon doesn’t answer and Linda just leaves. You feel like no words were even needed to understand. 

Once you’re sure Linda is gone for good, Sunghoon and you step out of the shower. It’s quiet between you, quiet and somewhat heavy. You don’t like it one bit. You’re quick to grab your bikini and put it back on, relieved to know you most likely won’t find your sisters back at the beach where you’re headed now. 

You don’t turn around again when you leave the bathroom. And you also don’t expect Sunghoon to say anything. Still, when you open the door to leave, you feel just a tiny bit disappointed that he doesn’t hold you back. 

How utterly pathetic of you. 

Heeseung doesn’t come for you that night. You wonder if it’s because of Sunghoon and decide it most definitely is because of Sunghoon. 

Yet, the slightly younger male doesn’t come to seek you out either. 

Tonight, it’s just you. 

And perhaps, you think, that’s just how it’s supposed to be. 

to be continued...

header & divider credit to the wonderful @wongyuseokie <3

[therealcocoshady]

POV : You’re Marshall Mathers’s girlfriend and he worships you

Author’s Note : Hi guys ✨. I feel like it’s been a while since I last published something on here. Enjoy this little blurb I wrote. It’s kind of random but I think it’s kind of cute still 💕.

Marshall Mathers doesn’t really enjoy being treated like a king wherever he goes. He knows people give him special treatment out of respect, because he is a huge fucking superstar, but he doesn’t really care for it. He’s just a normal dude at heart, you know ? He likes it when things are kept simple. He’s not a huge fan of the deference, of people practically bowing and curtsying to him because he is Eminem. It’s weird.

But when it comes to you ? People better treat you like the absolute monarch that you are. This man will not accept anything less for the woman he loves. You are his sun. His days start and end with you. You are a deity he worships day and night and people better put some respect on his lady’s name.

He is not giving you the princess treatment. No. This would be good enough for any peasant. If he could, this man would build altars and monuments for you. You are his religion. Your birthday and the anniversary of your first date are holidays he refuse to work on. Doesn’t matter if he’s offered hundreds of thousands of dollars for a ten minutes performance, he simply refuses to be away from you on those days. And if you so much as utter an « I need you », this man will drop absolutely everything. He’s done it in the past and he absolutely has no regrets about flying for five hours on a day off from tour to be able to surprise you at work after you mentioned it was « so hard being away » from him. He is usually mindful about climate change but for you, this man will turn into Taylor « taking my jet for a ten minutes flight » Swift. He literally doesn’t care about the world burning as long as there is a smile on your face. Marshall is not a big spender but for you, he doesn’t care about numbers. His goddess deserves the very best and, thank God for that merch money, he is able to give it to you. He’s not a diva but he demands the very best for you. He couldn’t care less about the water brought to him in his dressing room before a performance. But he makes sure it’s your favorite brand. Same for snacks. If he has to fly someone to another country to get something for you, he absolutely will. In his mind, it’s the least he can do for the woman who blesses him with her presence. He is almost offended when someone fails to greet you properly and he absolutely is when someone straight up disrespects you. If he could, he would fight duels in your honor. Somehow, you managed to turn this stoic individual in the utmost gentleman. When he’s by your side, you will never be caught walking on the wrong side of the pavement, having to hold your own bags. He’d rather die than have that. But you’ll never be caught. Because he protects you like you’re the most precious treasure there is. He’s never caught in your presence, because he doesn’t want to have you plagued by the media and harassed by fans and, yet, he manages to show you off. In private, he doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s head over heels with you. Your name is on his lips constantly, and the way he talks about you shows just how devoted he is. At first, people close to him got a little worried. Who were you ? What were your intentions ? It seemed like you were out of nowhere. Walked into Marshall’s life one day and, from then on, he was addicted. They had every reason to be suspicious. And then, they met you. And they understood. They got to witness the genuineness of your interactions, how your eyes mirrored Marshall’s devotion, the way he leaned into your touch so naturally and just how you seemed to heal the parts of him that had been left raw. For the first time in forever, they saw him at peace. Not merely content. Happy. They expected to hate you, because what kind of high maintenance brat has the most stoic man they ever knew act like a puppy ? Only, they couldn’t. It wasn’t quite clear how things worked out between you and Marshall and, in hindsight, it was none of their business. But they couldn’t hate you when it was clear as day that « Em » as most call him, had finally found a safe space. So you won them over as well, and they gave you the princess treatment.

[johnwickb1tsch]

Everyone is sending GIF requests, so, here is mine. Hint: Jealous John? (Though I doubt this man can ever be jealous but...whatever comes to your genius brain)

Thanks!

@sweetwolfcupcake SWEEETS!!!!! I loved this prompt SO MUCH!!! You're such a genius. *kisses your head* I hope you like this! 💗💗💗

Bodyguard!John Wick x Shy!Curvy!Fem!Student!Reader

⚠warnings: threat of noncon (not John), mention of parental death

For the record, you didn’t mean to fall in love with John Wick. But he was nothing like the other goons your father had tasked with guarding you before.  Wick was tall, and handsome, and had the soulful eyes of a poet. You know he’s dangerous; he can kill a man 30 ways with a pencil (the men of your father’s Bratva will not shut up about it) but he seems so…gentle. And the thing that really proved your undoing?

That good looking bastard was bookish, and it did something inconceivable to your lit major brain. Ever your dark shadow, you spent countless late nights in the library together, and so many Saturday afternoons browsing the used bookshops, combing for treasures. He would rescue the books that looked better fit for the waste bin, taking them to repair. Maybe he was there to protect you, for your father had many unsavory enemies, but it was easy to forget when John discussed with you the finer points of the Bloomsbury Set or the themes of Anna Karenina.  

Maybe your father assigned John to you because he was one of the few gangsters around in his brigata one could trust to guard a relatively innocent young lady–that didn’t mean John was safe from you. You just couldn’t help yourself; you’d like to plead insanity, your honor, the night you finally broke and tried to kiss him, while he was helping you with your homework for Russian Lit 301. 

How stupid you felt, how utterly pathetic, when he’d very kindly dislodged you from his so soft mouth, looking at you with pity in his sad dark eyes. “You know…we can’t do this,” he told you.

Mortified, you’d fled to your room and cried, knowing you are the most ridiculous human being on the face of the earth.

What were you thinking?

You are nothing like the tall, ethereal creatures that populate the clubs where Wick frequents with your father. You are shy, and curvy, and frankly…a nerd. An old soul, your father would say fondly, but you know he is just being kind.

You’re not sure how you got it into your head, that you were going to make Wick sorry. You’ve never been one for going out, but you decide to give it a whirl, wanting to be anyone but yourself. You decide to go to the Red Circle, to hang out with the other Bratva brats who care way more about clubbing and clothes and who’s fucking who, than classes at NYU. 

At first you really hate it–but after a few shots of vodka, it’s not so bad. John has to hang back, keeping an eye on you but not interacting with your friends. He’s scary good at lurking in the shadows, but you know he’s keeping an eye on every move you make. Maybe that’s why you let Alexsei kiss you, the son of a semi-friendly loan shark who works in proximity with your father. You don’t really like him, if you’re being honest. But he’s not totally hideous–and he’s there–and John will have to watch it all. 

You and Alex start to have a thing. It’s no big deal. Something to do, on the summer break from your studies. You invite him over to watch a movie, knowing you’ll have the house to yourself. Your father is always at his office doing business, your idiotic brother is always out getting into trouble with his khuligan friends, and your mother…is dead, God rest her poor soul. 

You can tell Alex is a little drunk, when he shows up at your door. He’s very handsy, when you settle in on the couch to watch the latest mindless action flick, his pick. It’s ok, until he tries to unbutton your pants.

You have a secret. 

You’re 21, nearly graduated from university–and you’re still a virgin. 

This is not a thing you intend to give to Alexsei Plushenko. You don’t even really like the way he touches you.

“Stop, Alex.”

“Don’t be scared,” he tries to coax you. “This will be fun.”

“No,” you say. “Let’s just…”

He covers your mouth with his, shutting you up, his heavy body pinning you on the couch. “Don’t be such a stuck up bitch.” His groping fingers squeeze your breast clumsily, painfully, before fumbling with your jeans again. You try to push him off, but he’s heavy, and strong.

Suddenly, he is yanked from you like he weighs nothing at all. You hardly recognize what is happening at first, until you hear the sound of flesh striking flesh. John is on him, his iron fist meeting the younger man’s face. 

“John! Stop!” 

Wick looks up at you, meeting your eyes in a primal lock of stares–your heart drops and soars again, as you feel as though you’ve stumbled on a wolf over his kill, and the wildest thing?

You get the inkling that wolf is jealous. 

“Don’t hurt him anymore,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. A beating will make some complications for your father. A death? Could mean war.

Wick punches the handsy young man one more time, his eyes never leaving yours, before hauling Alex up by the collar and frog marching him out the front door, tossing him down the concrete steps of your home.

John finds you waiting for him in the marble foyer, his eyes wild, his knuckles torn. You don’t even know what to say. 

“What did you even see in him?” he finally demands, clearly annoyed.

“He wasn’t you,” you answer without thinking.

Wick steps up to you, toe to toe, so that you have to crane your neck to meet his eyes. His hair has broken free from its slicked back style, tendrils in his eyes.

He’s never looked more beautiful, your savage savior.

“You’re trying to get me killed.”

You shake your head, the very thought anathema to you. You are transfixed, unable to look away, unable to think. “You’re too precious to me,” you admit, and screw your eyes shut the moment you admit it, a spear of mortification piercing you from your heart to your stupid, aching, cunt.

“Milaya…” 

It’s the sweetest thing he’s ever said to you.

Your eyes drop to his knuckles, torn open in his defense of you. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Not to me.” You don’t know where you get the courage, to take his hand, and lead him up to your room. You can hardly believe it, that he actually follows you. In your ensuite bathroom you dab at his knuckles with a washcloth, slather him with ointment and plaster him with bandaids. You run out of sober flesh colored ones, so the last cut gets a Disney bandage, Ariel and sea-flowers decorating this severe man’s knuckles. 

He lets you do all this, watching you intensely with those dark eyes you’re certain can see into your soul. You stand too close–and he lets you, this haunted man who watches over you day and night. Your whole life you have never wanted for anything, your father’s money buying you all your heart could possibly desire.

Until now.

You find it hard to meet his eyes, zeroing in on a spot of blood on his stark white dress shirt. 

“Y/n.” With a gentle knuckle under your chin he turns your gaze up to his again. “You are too smart, and too beautiful, to be wasting your time with a fuckboy like Alexsei Plushenko.”

The first part you already knew. The second, from this man’s lips? Your knees nearly collapse out from under you, a flood of excitement and dread coursing through your system. You almost can’t stand it–it’s like being burned alive, and your native shyness rears with a vengeance. 

You try to flee, back to the safety of your room, and your books, your imaginary lives that can’t really hurt you–but he catches your hand. His grip is not hard, but it is enough to stop you dead in your tracks. 

“Y/n…” He’s pleading with you, but you don’t understand what he’s asking you. 

“You said you don’t want me, John…” you say, still unable to meet his eyes. “So let me go.” 

He answers by pulling you against him, the solid line of his torso a brick wall beneath the hand you raise to catch yourself. But bricks are not warm, like the flesh beneath his designer clothes. You can feel the wires in your brain sizzling, the synapses simply melting down. Your heart is Chernoble waiting to happen. 

“I didn’t say that.” 

“You said–”

“I said, ‘We can’t.’ Not, that ‘I don’t want you.’”

You almost cannot breathe, your heart attempting to beat out of your chest, a ringing in your ears that drowns out all else. There is nothing, nothing, in this world you’ve wanted more, than to hear those words from this man. But now that he’s standing before you, against you, holding you–you cannot move. You do not know what to do. 

He solves this problem by cupping your cheek in his big hand–God, how you’ve noticed those hands–and then he is pressing his mouth to yours, gentle at first, but then…hungry. As though John Wick has been starving, for you, and it’s all you can do just to stand there and take it without melting into a puddle on the floor. His arms wrap around your back, holding you, lifting you to your tiptoes as he devours you. When at last he pulls back you are left seeing stars, struck utterly speechless with your hands on his broad shoulders. 

“Tell me to stop,” he raggedly demands, his eyes boring down into yours. 

Finally, you find your courage, meeting his stare. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whisper. 

“Good. Because I don’t think I can.” He kisses you again, just as hungrily as the first time, his arm an iron band around your waist and his fingers sneaking up into your hair. That’s your kryptonite: your hair, and blithely you know he can do anything and everything he wants to you now.  

Your father is a bad man, but you have not had a bad life. You have never known hunger, or true physical pain. He has protected you from the violence of his world. He has played things smart enough that not even the FBI can touch you, even though they absolutely know what he is and where your family gets its money. Despite all this, you have been dying inside, a slow, withering demise, until John Wick’s lips touched yours. He is the life-giving rain over the desert; your heart is a field of wildflowers erupting in a superbloom. 

This time, he leads you, in between kissing you, to the loveseat at the foot of your bed. He sits, and only when he tries to pull you into his lap do you resist. “John…I’m too…much,” you insist, conscious of your generous flesh and what it would be like to set that on top of him, afraid he’ll be horrified. 

However, he just scoffs at you, grabbing you up anyway and guiding you down. For a moment you are weightless–he knows how to upset a person’s balance, how to use their weight against them to put them on the floor. This time he uses it to put you on him. You’re not exactly proud of it, but the ease with which he utterly manhandles you makes your long-neglected lady parts sing with desire. 

“You are perfect, dietka,” he insists, pulling you closer with hands on your round behind, “And I am very strong.” For the first time in you can’t remember how long–he smiles at you. That beautiful half smile with a sparkle in his dark eyes that takes your breath away–you love him so much it hurts. 

This time you don’t feel so shy, about kissing him. You feel like your bones are filled with butterflies, and you both moan and giggle as you do your best to devour each other from the mouth down. Aside from an appreciative squeeze of your thighs bracketing his hips, he doesn’t try to seduce you, even though you know you absolutely would have given him anything he asked you for. He is content, just to kiss you, for this night at least, and oh. He’s good at it too. 

You decide you would burn down the world, for one more kiss from John Wick.  

Later you find yourself snuggled in your bed with John, fully clothed, your head on his shoulder as he toys with the fine hairs at the back of your neck. His touch is heaven, and with your legs twined with his it’s hard not to squirm and writhe against his muscled thigh like a horny little gremlin. 

Later, you tell yourself. It can wait for later. 

Like maybe, tomorrow. 

“We’ll have to be careful,” he warns you. “If your father…” 

If your father found out, the best thing that could happen to John is getting fired. 

“I won’t let you get hurt,” you promise, kissing his bearded cheek, praying you’re telling the truth.

He chuckles at this; a deep sound you feel more than hear. “I thought that was my job?”

“You know what I mean.” 

“I know.” He looks down at you with a tenderness that curls your toes. “It would be worth it, for you.” 

Your heart has suddenly decided it would like to take up residence in your throat–permanently.

“Oh, John…”  

He kisses you again, a soft brush of lips that renders you weightless. This is how you die: it’s almost too much to stand, this impossibly full feeling in your chest. Then he narrows his eyes at you playfully. “You have been driving me mad, you little minx. I wanted to kill everyone who so much as looked at you in the Circle.” 

You snort at the thought–you do not understand, really, that he could absolutely do it too. 

“Not to worry. I think the library is more my speed.” He rests his head against yours with a small, contented sigh. “Mine too,” he admits. The smell of old books around you is a soothing balm to you both. 

You know small bits of his past. Morsels he has sprinkled, here and there in the conversations you have had. You know he did not have an easy childhood. You know that this life was not really his choice. Even less so than most, who move and work in the Underworld. 

“If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?” you ask. 

He lifts an eyebrow at you. “I’m liking New York, at the moment,” he tells you with an affectionate squeeze. 

“Oh come on.” 

“Fine. I like Paris a lot.” 

“Hmm,” you answer, but what you think, is: Done.  You will have the opportunity to arrange to study abroad soon, and you think a trip away from the Tarasov territory might do you both some good.

Surely Papachka wouldn’t deprive you of your most trusted bodyguard?

[wasitforrevenge]

new romantics

pairing: MODERN AU!college azriel x female reader

warnings: may be some triggering content including tampon is a douchbag at a party, mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of sexual activity but nothing major, smut books mentioned (hehehe) a fight occurs but can you blame him? he’s just defending your honor ugh, two idiots in love who want nothing but each other and can’t admit it, no use of y/n, imagine her as you, because it is YOU! half editted… ill get to it later i promise

word count: 4.5k

summary: your new study partner is better than you first realize… and now you can’t stop thinking about him, but he can’t stop thinking of you either.

authors note: hi first time writing for acotor! been a fan of these books for a while and my baby azriel does something to me!!! so here’s something i spent the night writing it was 10 different things before it was this lol! pls like, reblog and comment! thank you everyone for reading! photo credit to pinterest, and please i strive to do better so any thoughts pls free feel to let me know! thank you for the support! this is the first time i’ve had the energy to write in months so pls dont go too hard

you met azriel in a greek mythology lecture that you both ended up in during the second semester of your sophomore year. getting partnered with an incredibly built and handsome man for a history report your teacher assigned was the least of your problems when you realized how fucking kind and beautiful azriel is on the inside and out.

the real problem came when you realized how hard you were falling for this man when you started hanging out casually, hitting the coffee stand before class or getting food after a long day. you learned so much about him in a matter of months and couldn’t get him out of your head.

you never spoke existence to your feelings for him, mainly because you didn’t want to ruin a very good potential friendship but partly because you didn’t think you were good enough for someone like him. you’ve heard little whispers about his other… activities and you couldn’t help the way it made you feel.

at the start of your junior year, you and azriel were practically best friends and it just felt so natural. the way you two were together. the way your conversations flowed and the way the silence was never deafening when you were together. you spent time cuddling on the couch in your living room watching movies and rating tv shows and going to visit parks around town and getting high as fuck. once time you had even gone crazy and took some acid and spent hours at the aquarium watching all the fish. you studied for classes together, the one you shared and the ones you both took on your own.

you and azriel were always testing out new recipes in his large kitchen. its wonderful that he lives alone. alone as in by himself but you cannot glance over the fact that the rhysand and feyre along with cassian and nesta live on the same floor of this apartment building close to campus. you luckly only live 2 floors down, a thing you realized when you managed to see him in the elevator about a week or two after you first started studying together.

you were debating all summer about confessing your feelings to him but could not gather the courage to bring yourself to admit it to him and face rejection. you couldn’t mess up the relationship between you already. he was your best friend and you really didn’t have too many besides him. you’ve met his family and have spend a lot of time with them, they’re all practically adopted you at the point, they welcomed you with smiles and open arms (besides amren but they told you she’s always like that.)

but a couple weeks into the semester, you and nesta were standing in a kitchen of a person you don’t know debating on what shitty cheap alcohol you’ll be indulging in tonight. it was the first big back to school party and it was still hot as hell out so you were dressed in dark denim shorts and nice tank top along with your black converse.

you and nesta instantly clicked when you met. bonding over smutty books and all the tv shows you managed to watch. she’s felt like your first real girl-friend ever, you guys got some comfortable together and every time you guys hung out, it felt like no time had passed. it was refreshing to have someone to talk to. she also happens to be the only one who knows about the feelings you harbor for your other best friend.

as you’re about to pour the tequila into your red solo cup, you hear someone call nesta’s name and she tells you she’ll be right back before scurrying off to whichever of her friends was calling her. leaving you there alone not knowing anyone at the party, nesta told you the rest of the group was going to meet you there but you have yet to see any of them as you turn your head around the room.

as you fill your cup and turn to put the bottle back down on the counter, you feel a hand glide around your waist and are suddenly aware of a man extremely too close your liking. “hey baby” he said as he slurred his words, clearly intoxicated, by the way he looked and smelled. it sent more warnings through your head even after he grabbed you like that. you had to leave, this couldn’t happen. thoughts are rushing through your head. you move your hand to push his arm off you as you turn around to be face to face with a tall blonde with long hair.

“what was that for?” he drags out as he tried to put his hand back on you. you instantly tried to move towards the way nesta went and told him, “please get off!” but he was too fast and held your upper arm in a death grip before he tugged you closer to his chest, his other hand back on your waist like the first time he did it. your eyes close in fear as he leans down to whisper something in your ear, but he’s gone in an instant.

it all happened so fast. all you see is a large, muscular, tattooed arm flying in front of you, hitting the man who was on you just seconds ago. you watched shocked as you finally lock in to the situation before you.

azriel beating the shit out of the man who had just laid his hands on you.

azriel swung his fist again towards him, hitting him square in the jaw, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he screamed at him, having another punch already landing with his other fist.

the man doesn’t respond before he swings back at azriel and managed to get a decent swing in, the hit landed to his lip but azriel doesn’t move at all. he’s standing still in the spot, continuing to tower over him.

azriel shoved the man back into the counter and landed a powerful hook right to his nose simultaneously. he cried out as it made contact, “fuck dude c’mon,” he reached up to grab it, blood pouring from his broken nose and busted lip. he steps closer as he removes his hand looking at the red liquid that has held onto his skin, ready to defend himself against the beautiful man that your eyes cannot stray from.

but azriel is faster and before he could even blink, managed to grab a hold of his shirt and pull him up to where his toes barely touched the floor. his hands fall at his sides and his eyes widen in fear as azriel gets closer to his face, leaning down to whisper something in his ear that you can’t hear over the loud music, people partying and the screaming and crying in your heart as you watched this all unfold.

suddenly azriel is tossing the man back into the counter and he barely managed to grab it and hold on, azriel suddenly grows larger, as if he could get any bigger, and leans to spit out the blood that had collected in his mouth behind him. and suddenly your attention is focused on the warmth now englufing your wrist. your eyes immediately register the sight of him standing in front of you, this was warm and right, his hands on you. it just felt so right.

his other hand reached out and gently lifts your chin to meet his gaze. the way the sense of safety coursed through you with his simple touch just confirmed, yet again, that this was going to be so hard for you to tell him.

“hey baby…” he spoke softly, his eyes darted between both yours. his attention solely on you. he let his finger rub against your cheek as he finished, “are you okay?” you can’t help the feeling the shoots through you at the use of the pet name and the look of shock that painted your face. not knowing if it came from, whether it was from what unfolded in front of you at this party or the fact he still holding your face and talking to you like this, so sweetly.

you blinked a couple times and the realization hit you that you’ve just been standing there, staring into his beautiful eyes. not paying attention to the group of people that crowded around as the fight was happening or the looks you guys are getting from other party goers that still surrounded you. the only thing you can stand to focus on his gaze.

azriel.

“i don’t know,” you almost whisper towards him, feeling his warmth covering you both. before you can talk again, he moves his scarred hand from your wrist, you feel almost… empty at the loss of contact but that doesn’t last long as he slipped his hand into yours and intertwined his fingers with yours as he guided you towards the front door.

you passed by so many people, you tried not to pay attention to all the looks you were getting. girls stared as they realized it wasn’t themselves in azriel’s grasp, but you. it was your hand he was holding. your heart beat at just the thought of it, your nerves were already shot as the events unfolded not even 10 minutes ago and this did not help one bit.

your eyes manage to catch nesta’s in the crowd, her eyes widen as she takes in the sight before her, azriel holding your hand and leading you out of the party. oblivious to what actually happened to cause this, she gave you a huge smile and two thumbs up. you cant help but silently chuckle at your friend despite the other overwhelming feelings you have. you’ll explain the situation later when you text her but you were sure eventually she’d hear what happened.

he leads you out the front door and looks back at you with a small smile as you trail behind him. he walked you over, without a word and hands still intertwined and you finally notice your next to his old beat up mustang on the side of the street, the one that smells like him and the faint smell of weed that always lingers regardless of the last time he smoked in there.

he opened the car door for you and you released your hand from his and got into the passengers seat. once you were in, he reached over and buckled your seatbelt for you, giving it a tug to make sure it was connected before smiling down at you from outside the car. he shut the door satisfied and walked around the back of the car to open his own door and sat inside.

the silence is comfortable. it always has been, you pray that sometimes it’s awkward or uncomfortable but it never is. you sit in your seat, eyes staring down towards the hand he had been holding, almost in disbelief, that he defended you like that. you’ve never seen azriel angry like that either. he turns to face you, wanting you to meet his eyes.

azriel walked in the front door of the party, after having a pretty day. the customers at the restaurant he works truly sucked today. small tips and even shittier people. all he wanted to do was smoke off some steam and get drunk with cassian and rhys. he knew you were going to be here. cassian mentioned it in passing while talking about nesta so he was also on the look out for you. the girl who managed to catch his heart after having been partnered together. azriel couldn’t help the way he felt about you even though it almost felt wrong to him.

he didn’t want to take advantage of you, he knew you were shy and never really been in a relationship. he found that out when he walked into the kitchen of cassian and nesta’s apartment, and overheard nesta telling cass all about you after her and you hung out for the first time outside the group. so he just tried to ignore his feelings but regardless of that fact you were his bestfriend. he just couldn’t escape you.

and when he walked into that kitchen to see tamlin standing over you, your arm tight in his grip, the way your eyes were slammed shut trying to back away from him. he didn’t even think. he was there pulling him off you before he could even recognize what he was doing. throwing punches left and right towards the man who dared touched you. he barely even registered the hit he managed on no one but him can put his hands on you. he’s had that thought before but never brought life to it, but here? now?

all thoughts of guilt for feeling that way vanished. there was no way he was letting anyone touch you. but him. that’s all he wanted. he wanted you in a way he didn’t think was reciprocated. love was a funny thing to him, something he was never accustomed to until after he met rhysand and cassian.

his family never showed it, he lives with the constant knowledge of that every time he looks down at his hands. he thought about the way you never judged him of them, like it was nothing at all to you but that was everything to him.

the one sided crush he harbored on mor for a couple years was nothing in comparison to the way he felt about you. his few flings he had over the past couple years (after he realized it was pointless liking mor, also… because she slept with cassian) were mildly of convince and of urge but once he met you, he knew he was a goner.

he stopped the girls. the stopped the meaningless flirting and hooks up and took to just pleasuring himself to the thought as you, as shitty as it made him felt after. sometimes he just couldn’t look you in the eye the next time he saw you but you never said anything. you never commented on it and he silently thanked you in his head.

but right now, after he pulled you out of the party, scarred hand in yours, he needed you to look him in the eyes. but you still hadn’t and he couldn’t just keep staring at the face of the beautiful woman in front of him while it was coated with anxiety and exhaustion.

azriel lifted his distorted hand to your face meeting the soft warm skin that was your own. he gently brought your face to meet his gaze and as you locked eyes, the spark hit you yet again.

gods he was breathtaking. dark hair that covered to above his ears, the eyes that seemed to stare into yours every single time they met, the tattoos that covered him and his golden brown skin that you swore shined outright during different points in the day. your heart cannot handle this man.

“please,” he practically whispered you barely even registered that he said it before he continued, “are you okay, what can i do?” the sound in his voice felt desperate as his eyes bore into yours, the feel of his hand on her face, you couldn’t help but lean into his grasp and close your eyes, taking in the feel of him. you responded a moment later after letting out a sigh and looking at him again.

“can we just go home? i just want to sleep” you asked him with a pleading tone as you feel his thumb rub against your cheek for the second time that night. ugh the things this man does to you. all you wanted was for him to hold you, to feel the press of his body against yours. anything to get the feeling of someone else off you. “yeah baby, we can.” he said gently before he moved his hand down to yours and gave you a light squeeze before he turned the car on and shifted into gear, pulling off in the direction of home.

once you arrived back to the apartment building, he parked in the lot next to the front door and moved around the car to open your door, he gave you his hand as you stepped out. he went to put his hand at your lower back as he opened the door for you but decided against just in case that was a lot for you right now. he did not want to make it worse. he could see the fear in your eyes back there, no way would he subject you to that if you weren’t comfortable with it. so instead he just followed behind you, hitting the button to the elevator to take you up to your floor.

the elevator luckily isn’t taking forever today so when it opens, you and azriel step in and he goes to hit the floor for your apartment but your hand reaches out and stops him. “can we go to yours please?” your head moves up to meet his gaze but his eyes are focused on where your hand is on his wrist. a second later his eyes meet yours and he gives you a small nod and hits the button for the fifth floor. you remove your hand and lean against the wall right next to him, his hand reaches out and entangles his bumpy fingers with yours.

“is this okay?” he asks you. you can barely hold it in after that, the tears finally fall. he feels the sudden change in your body as he moves closer to you but removing his hand from yours in fear that you didn’t want to touch him. but in reality that’s all you want. you want him to touch you. you want him to love you. you want everything with him. its all just so overwhelming, everything that has happened.

he goes to speak but before he can get a word out, your body is on his engulfing him in a hug around his long torso, he instantly wraps his arms around your smaller frame. he can feel your body shake with tears and all he wants to do is make sure that no one ever makes you feel like this again. you deserve so much better, he only wishes he could be better for you too. you squeeze him tighter and he just holds you until the elevator door opens and you pull away from him. mascara and tears running down your face, you can see it on his shirt. he smiles at you before he pulls his hands to your face and wipes your cheeks off with his rough yet soft hands.

you cant help the laugh that escapes you as he wipes his hands on the t-shirt staining it even more with the leftover residue on your face. he gives you a chuckle before connected your hands yet again, walking with you out of the elevator to his one bedroom apartment. he fishes in his pocket with his other hand and pulls out his keys. he unlocked the door and held it open for you to walk in.

your senses are taken over by the smell of him. the smell of his candle lingered from the coffee table covered with textbooks in the large living room, he has a basket of blankets he keeps in the corner because he knows you get cold watching tv. he has a big L shaped couch which had a 60 inch tv across the room, with a boatload of dvds underneath. something you both agreed was a dying art. you and azriel swear physical media will make a comeback one day but you guys will never forget how they ruined it!

his space was a lot bigger since you have a two bedroom apartment. but it was perfect for him. azriel had loved the way he made his space his own, his bass guitars set up in the corner next to his collection of vinyl records and a record player that rhys and cassian got him when he turned 21… as well as a shit ton of booze. he had a bookshelf that held his favorites, as well as your own.

he bought a copy of almost every book you talked about so that he was in the loop with what you were reading. even the ones you didn’t talk about that he caught on your nightstand or in your reading nook. when he bought one of those and read it, his jaw dropped. he immediately thought of nesta and her smutty books but this sent something else though his body. he couldn’t help but keep reading… he wondered if you thought about him while reading these scenes of them ravishing each other, in every way imaginable. he sure did! his right hand hates him!

and you definitely did to… thought about him in ways that you shouldn’t. thinking about him doing all those things to you. the way you knew he would take care of you. the way you knew you could take care of him, despite how inexperienced you are. the thoughts drove you crazy. it was practically all day and every day at this point. thinking about the way his hands would feel running up your thighs or the way his lips would feel on yours.

now here you are, standing in his living room, just wanting all that and little did you know… he did too.

“hey az…” you uttered towards him. he was already next to you as you spoke, “can we lay down please?” your voice was barely a whisper.

he didn’t even need to speak, he just brought you to his room. he lead you to sit on the corner of the bed as he turned and riffled through his dresser, pulling out a large dark green shirt and handing it to you with a smile, “change into this, i’ll be right back.”

“can i take a shower?” you asked azriel shyly. “yes of course, one sec.” you watched as he walked out the room and shut the door behind him. you took your shoes off and placed them by the bedroom door next to azriel’s shoes. he came back in a second later with a fresh towel and a water bottle.

“here you go, you already know where the shower is,” he says with a small chuckle. you give him a grateful smile and a thank you as you took the items from his hands and gave him one last look before heading into his connecting bathroom.

you turned on the hot water and you stripped out of your clothes and threw them into the laundry hamper in the corner of the bathroom. you got in the shower and felt instantly better. the way the water followed hot you could feel the touch of the man from the party washing away, only to be replaced with thoughts of azriel touching you instead. you reviled in it.

you washed your hair and body with his shampoo, conditioner and body wash. silently thanking him for not using 3-in-1 (nesta found out that’s what cassian used and flipped shit) you finished your shower and dried off with the towel he gave you.

you put on his t-shirt that made its way down to your mid thigh when it was on completely. you loved when you were covered in him. you walked back out into the room and didn’t see azriel so you took your seat at the edge of the bed and waiting for him to come back. you sat there and picked at your nails, feeling so wore out you didn’t even want to cry anymore.

azriel came in two minutes later, dressed him long flannel pajama pants and you can see the band of his underwear peeking out as he gets closer to you. he changed after you went into the bathroom, and then went to the kitchen to make sure he was stocked up on the tea you liked and the snacks you guys enjoy together, just in case you got hungry.

he ran around his living room and cleaned random odds and ends. putting dishes in the sink, folding the blankets thrown on the couch and organizing his cd collection. anything to busy himself instead of thinking of you in his shower. anything to get his mind off the amazing woman just in the other room. he hears the shower turn off and waited a few more moments before heading back into the room.

he moved the covers down to make room for you as he said, “after you princess,” with a smile on his face. you returned it and stood up to make your way to the bed but not before turning to hug him again. his arms wrapped around you as you mumbled “thank you azriel,” into his chest. you hold on for a few moments before releasing him. he looks at you before motioning to the bed, “i would do anything for you, you know that.” you felt your cheeks grow red at the thought, at the knowledge that he would.

you climb into the bed and laid your head on the pillow, turning to look at azriel, you wondered why he was still standing. “az are you coming?” you said bashfully. he blinked and bent down to the bed to be eye level with you. “i’m gonna sleep on the couch tonight.” you could feel the way your face dropped in disappointment as you registered what he said. he saw it too and felt it deep in his chest.

he stood up and was about to say goodnight but you beat him to it, “azriel please i need you.”

you could feel how desperate you sounded but you didn’t care. you just needed him. next to you right now. he said nothing else as he moved the blankets again, but this time he was under them. he didn’t hesitate to pull you into his chest, your hand found it’s way over his fast beating heart and his tattooed arm wrapping around you. the warmth and scent of him took over everything in your body. you finally felt safe. your legs tangled together as you eventually fell asleep to the rise and fall of his chest.

“i need you too.” he said to a room with no one awake but him to hear.

part 2??? i would love to write one! let me know what you think! i’d love to keep writing for acotor so yay! pls enjoy :) i’m on the edge of my seat writing this hehe

[butchvampireheimerdinger]

okay hear me out…butch4butch Sevika where Sevika is a power bottom???👀 reader is taller and stronger than her but very shy and intimidated by her🙈

Pairing: Powerbottom!Sevika x gentle giant-service top! reader

Warnings: ns/fw, fingering, cunnilingus, grinding/dry humping, smoking, mentions of violence, and horny lesbian activityyyy

Word count: 3k

A/N: Love you. Love this. You have come to the right place for this one, my friend. The lack of butch4butch Sevika content is criminalll if that woman has a type it begins with D and ends in Y-K-E-S. Anyways, how appropriate is it that my first fic is butch4butch Sevika smut. Checks out. (that being said, it is my first fic so you freaks betta be NICE) Now without further ado…

You Have No Idea

By ButchVampireHeimerdinger

It was the slow ending to an eventful shift at the last drop. Customers were in good spirits all night, likely due to a sudden influx of Piltie goods some gang had rattled up through more or less honorable means and was making its way through town. In any case, the energy was contagious and it had you, the buff and generally even-tempered server/bouncer, doing things you didn’t normally do. Like drink on the job — just a beer you had been nursing for over forty minutes — and fraternize with patrons. Y’know, other than the obligatory how are you, do you wanna pay out now or open a tab. Real actual conversations -- which led you to number three on the list of Things You Don’t Normally Do; you were hunched over the bar playing Texas Hold ‘Em with three regulars. Two were men, you didn’t remember their names, but they always came to the bar at about this time. A package deal — they snickered in your direction as a nearby shady-looking customer walked out on his tab.

“Hey, isn’t that your cue, tough guy?” The man gave you a patronizing sort of eyebrow raise as he dealt the next round.

Technically, it was. You got hired pretty much on account of your physique — you were 6’3” and a tank, always had been. Broad shoulders, biggest girl on the playground growing up, you gained muscle at the drop of a hat. You didn’t even try. But it was all for show. You were more of a lover than a fighter. Sometime in the first few months of the job the staff discovered you were better equipped to work inside the bar. Customers liked you because you were polite, a breath of fresh air from the culture of animosity that permeated the undercity. Still, it didn’t help your ego in situations like this. ”Hey, you don’t know what she’s got under her sleeve.” The third voice at the table spoke up. The right hand of Zaun. Sevika.

She had been a regular since before you started and probably would be long after. You had heard some pretty nasty stories about her and the things she was capable of. But when she came up to your counter for a drink, she came without malintent, always respectful to the waitstaff. It was disarming. Tonight, especially, your eyes lingered over her toned shoulders and sharp collarbones.You wanted to run your hands over them, to see how her body would react. And maybe it was the house IPA you had been drinking, but probably not.

Sevika gestured toward your dwindling pile of poker chips with her chin as she looked down, analyzing her hand. “Clearly, she must be the type to play the long game.” This earned her another light fit of snickers from bar idiots one and two, but they were easily impressed. You rolled your eyes.

Sevika raised two chips. The table matched. She spoke again.

“So, tough guy, do those arms of yours get you any female attention? Since you’re obviously not using them for any other tactile purpose,” her eyes traveled to the empty seat where the tab-skipper had been sitting.

You shrugged, suddenly warm and very aware of your body and not sure where to rest your gaze. “I get around.”

For some reason, tweedles dum and dee found this hilarious, and howls of laughter followed. You slapped your hand over your heart and feigned a look of deep hurt, to mask the bit of real hurt you were feeling. Yeah, it had been a while, but surely not long enough to warrant that response.

“Is it that implausible?”

Sevika chuckled and shook her head, but her expression was good-natured.

“Just make your move, Casanova.”

You had a full house. Three aces. Two kings. You matched, and didn’t raise.

Sevika raised, the men matched, and you folded.

The table revealed their hands and Sevika won the pile with a straight. Not a bad hand, but the round would’ve been yours if you had taken the risk. Sevika clicked her tongue, scolding you, which made your palms sweat. You averted her gaze and became suddenly interested in wiping down the bar.

Following your pitiful defeat, the two guys payed out, leaving the bar empty save for you, Sevika, and a couple stragglers who always stayed until morning and probably didn’t have anywhere else to spend the night. To your surprise, the woman beckoned you over once more. Something in your heart lifted. Something in your pants dropped.

“Blackjack?” She pushed the cards toward you, and her dominant sort of gaze made you feel, once again, compelled to do what she asked.

You won the first few rounds. Sevika was risky to a fault. If it wasn’t 21 exactly, trust she would draw. And she always made you the dealer, watching your hands intently, hungrily, even, as you shuffled. The third round was a tie, but she didn’t have anything left to raise.

“Tell you what,” she said. “You win this round and I’ll spread it around that I walked out on my tab, and you chased me down and kicked my ass for it. Should prevent other situations like our friend earlier, at least for a while.”

“Are my bouncer abilities really that pathetic?” You picked at the side of your nails. Sevika’s gaze pierced through you and you found it difficult to meet her eyes. But you didn’t necessarily hate the way her eyes took you in. Slowly and deliberately, like you were a battle map and she was trying to parse out her strategy.

“And if you win?” You looked up, all innocent. Maybe you imagined it, but your doe eyes seemed to rile her up a little bit. Something in the way her jaw shifted, the way she rubbed her flesh palm on her pants.

“Already planning for defeat? See, this is exactly your problem. You’re talking through a universe where you lose before we’ve even started.” She shoved her pile towards you again.

“Deal ‘em.” She commanded, you obliged.

“I’m serious! I just wanna know what I’m agreeing to. Fools rush in, and all that.” Your voice made everything sound like a question. With her, it was. Sevika was hard to figure out.

“You’re cute. If I win, I want…” The woman took a hit of the blunt she was holding and used it to gesture, her movements creating little loops of smoke that rose and dissipated. Her eyes followed them, and not you. For once.

“I want an hour. With you. N’ those arms.” You jerked while shuffling, accidentally knocking over your beer in your surprise. You picked it up quickly, hoping she didn’t notice.

“You serious?”

“Deadly. Fuck me up, Casanova.”

She won. Wasn’t even close. Three sevens, if you could believe it. As soon as you slapped the last seven down, you both shot up from the counter at light speed and she followed you to the back.

“A little eager, aren’t we?” Her voice was low and husky, but with a little something else.

“Sore winner,” was all you could think to respond. You shoved her lightly. She shoved you harder with her prosthetic arm. The two of you kept at it, pushing and shoving back and forth as you practically raced to The Last Drop’s back office. Play-fighting, like you were “one of the boys,” but it had a bit of a bite to it. Like you wanted to eat each other alive.

The office was hardly used except for the rare moments when staff wanted to crunch numbers. Or, of course, engage in extra-professional affairs like this one. That couch had seen some things. You fiddled with the key for what was apparently a moment too long.

“I’m getting bored out here, Casanova.” You looked into Sevika’s eyes through her thick brows, a couple inches below yours. You slammed your shoulder into the door and it gave way immediately, with a satisfying bang as it swung open. Sevika followed, grabbing you by the shirt as she brought your lips down to hers, hard, and kicked the door shut behind her without looking.

She dragged you toward her, her back pressed against the peeling drywall. Her tongue dragged against your bottom lip and something deep in your pelvis vibrated in anticipation. One of your hands reached up to the wall, to keep you both steady. Sevika grabbed your other hand and guided it under her tank top. You squeezed her breast, tracing over her nipple with your thumb. Your bodies pressed together and you brought your knee in between hers, rolling your hips forward and pressing your leg into her crotch. She moaned into your mouth. Like her voice, it was deep and gravelly.

You set a pace. Her hips seemed to agree with it, bucking upwards to get that friction where she needed it most. Her hands gripped your waist and hips as she started to manhandle you, making you move faster against her. Your kissing was frantic and sloppy, like there was anger behind it. Your lips shined with her spit, and you moved to kiss up and down her neck. She reacted with a throaty panting noise when you got to a sensitive spot — a fleshy and soft area where her jaw met with her neck. You twisted your head to the side and downward to get better access, to fully exploit that weakness. Without fully thinking through your actions, your sucking collapsed into biting. You drove your teeth into her neck and Sevika’s jaw shot upward as her panting became gasping. She grabbed the back of your head and pushed it harder against her neck to say what she couldn’t; more, more, more.

Your hands fumbled with her belt and she noticeably did not help you with it. It was like she got a kick out of watching you struggle. You finally got them unzipped and you reached under to start palming her through her boyshorts. She had already soaked through. Good.

You pulled away to look down at her again while tugging lightly at her waistband. You raised your eyebrows to ask, May I? Chin still tilted upward, she nodded, huffed out a “yuh” sort of noise, and hooked her leg around the back of yours to bring your chests closer, all rough.

You pulled down the panties and your fingers dipped into her folds. Sevika’s eyebrows knitted even closer together, if that was possible. You continued sucking and working that spot on her neck. Her lips were against your ear and you heard her panting grow more desperate, more melodic; whines and vocalizations mixed with the gruff and grainy rhythmic in-and-out of her breaths.

Your middle and ring finger sort of skated all around her entrance, just barely avoiding her swollen clit. You took in the sight — Sevika’s heaving chest, her eyes closed as she chased the pleasure you were giving her. Her moans grew to something not exactly desperate, that wasn’t like her, but deranged and shameless. She panted like she was breathing fire. And like she didn’t care if all of The Last Drop could hear her, even though they probably couldn’t.

The pulse of her hips grew a little more erratic and she shifted her legs like she was ready to switch positions. You gestured subtly with your head toward the couch, and she dragged you toward it.

The woman collapsed on it and rested her arms outward, elbows relaxed on top like it was a throne. She leaned as far back as she could as you helped work her pants and boyshorts all the way down until they dropped to her ankles. She pulled her shirt off with both hands, pulling it up and over from the back of the neckline. She threw the tank top to the side and all of the air left your lungs, as you took in the sight of her upper body. Where you were buff, she was cut. Unlike you, Sevika didn’t have the type of figure that was imposing simply by nature — her physique came from blood, sweat, and tears. She had the body of a bruiser, of someone who spent their life fighting. The Sevika before you made you realize why some of the patrons kept their distance. But it somehow made you want to get closer. It made you want to please her, and to be good at it.

Sevika had a manspread going and you dropped to your knees in front of her. But she wasn’t having that — not yet. With her flesh hand she grabbed you by the throat and dragged you up to her lips for another messy kiss. Your teeth clashed together and when your tongues made contact, you felt those butterflies low in your pelvis. You moaned into her mouth instinctively, and it came out higher and breathier than you expected. You felt her lips form a slight smile against yours and she released her hold on your neck, making you drop down to your knees. You were certain the impact must have shook the entire city block.

Breathing heavy, you went to start kissing and sucking at her inner thigh, but she tilted your chin upward to look at her. Breathless, she commanded,

“Take your shirt off for me, Casanova. I wanna see those arms while you… Yeah.”

You fought the smile forming and stripped for her. You took off your tank top and sports bra the same way she had — in one fluid motion, from the back. You were caught between a sudden wave of self consciousness and the urge to draw it out, to put on a show for her. You settled at maintaining eye contact as you subtly flexed for her, and placed your broad hands on her knees. Sevika smiled, all smug as she reached over to a nearby discarded vest, brought out the rest of her blunt, and lit up as her eyes poured over your exposed upper body. She inhaled deep using her metal arm, and with her flesh hand she traced over your biceps, satisfied.

All confident, you started on her inner thighs, taking your time. When your lips finally connected with her wet cunt, you heard her make a sharp exhale through her teeth. You kept going, first going over it all with a flat tongue, drinking in the moment, then using your tongue to explore her folds. Sevika let out a satisfied hum as you started sucking at her swollen, neglected clit.

That was when you brought your fingers up to her entrance, casually tracing, nothing else. That pissed her off.

Sevika slapped the top of the couch to get your attention. Your eyes snapped up to hers as she leaned forward to get all up in your face, with her signature sneer on.

“Did someone pay you to waste my time?”

You froze.

“That wasn’t rhetorical, I’m seriously asking you if some outside party with an interest in distracting me paid you to bring me here and do absolutely nothing with me.” You raised your eyebrows, eyes all wide and innocent. That made her groan, and she covered her face with one hand, your puppy eyes making her feel horny and desperate and a little guilty about snapping at you.

“Just. Fuck. Me.” She collapsed backward and you didn’t respond, just immediately did what she asked. You pushed your two fingers inside her without warning — hard. Again she exhaled through her teeth.

With your mouth, you continued giving her clit attention, and you pushed in and out of her, fingertips maintaining contact with her front wall, the one closest to you.

The sounds she made were pornographic, and it made you aware of the pool of slick that had established itself in the crotch of your boxers. Listening to her body, you gradually picked up the pace and you found Sevikas hand weave through your hair, grabbing you roughly at the scalp and pressing you closer and closer still.

Her face was angled toward the sky as she whined, her metal hand gripping the cushion tight enough to create what was probably going to be permanent ripples in the fabric. You brought her closer and closer and her grip on your head tightened as she bucked her hips upward, essentially fucking herself on your tongue and fingers. She occasionally let out a depraved vocalization that a trained ear might recognize as “fuck,” “don’t stop,” and “faster-FUCK faster.”

Until the pulse inside her cunt became erratic, and you felt a familiar tremor in her legs. You didn’t let up. You started fucking her deeper, with more pressure, using your tongue to play with her clit faster. Sevika’s thighs involuntarily snapped up to trap your head and you brought your hands up to brace them. Your tongue still moving as she cried out, loud and animalistic as she rode out her orgasm. Her thighs held you so tight against her pussy that you couldn’t escape if you tried, and the strength would probably have suffocated someone more petite.

Eventually, Sevika’s cries retreated back into deep panting and her legs dropped back to the floor, still trembling and spasming. She looked down at you, eyes half lidded, and gave you what could have been interpreted as a smile. She spread her arms back out on the top edge of the couch cushions, somehow still holding the half-smoked blunt. You shook your hair and a bit of ash fell out, which made you giggle. You were so invested in fucking her, you hadn’t noticed the active fire hazard against your skin the whole time.

With her chin, the woman gestured to the spot on the couch next to her. You settled in, your sides touching and your head leaning back against where her bicep was resting. She wrapped that arm around to bring the blunt to your lips.

“You can finish it, I don’t like the roach,” she said, and you obliged. You took a deep hit from her fingers and the last fiery bits assaulted your lungs, but you liked it. Sevika ashed it out on the couch, as if you hadn’t already desecrated it enough. You settled into a comfortable silence and she allowed you to lean your head on her pec, still uncovered. Until she spoke up.

“Promise me something, Casanova.” Her voice hoarse and gravelly from the earlier activities.

“Mm?” you responded. She wrapped her arm around you to reach up and ruffle your hair.

“Promise me you’ll never get good at cards.” You sucked your teeth and sneered back at her, giving her a hefty shove, which she gladly returned with equal force.

[chvoswxtch]

I still haven’t emotionally processed episode four and I probably never will but if you’re interested in my chaotic ramblings pls step into my office below

first of all frank waited ten fucking years to get his lick back he is the pettiest bitch alive and I am here for it 

he said bitch I didn’t forget when you said “boo hoo who’d you lose” reverse uno altar boy 

“how bout old foggy, he get life?”

FRANCIS DAVID CASTIGLIONE HOW DARE YOU 

also the fucking hand clapping while saying I don’t have time for your candy ass hero shit he’s so fucking sassy pls 

the juxtaposition between wanting to cream seeing our boys back together onscreen but also wanting to scream bc that whole interaction was so raw and brutal and wrecked me and not in the slutty way like I wanted

I wanna talk about how matt either knew where frank was this entire time or he knows frank’s heartbeat and scent and tracked him there which is stupid romantic 

I don’t wanna talk about how frank didn’t even raise his hands to defend himself and would’ve let matt keep hitting him 

I don’t want to talk about matt’s whole monologue about foggy bc I will never emotionally recover from that

I do want to talk about how 3 different people kept emphasizing to matt that the system is broken and does not work that was definitely not a coincidence 

I do want to talk about matt being a slut and flirting to reduce a prison sentence 

also the end?? adam screaming “let me out” while matt is on the roof with his billy club after trying to not let the devil out for 4 episodes??? the fucking parallels my GOD

each fucking episode just keeps getting better and better 

honorable mention fisk nearly crashing out having to sit though 2 choir performances had me HOLLERING

I also want to do a lil check in since we only have five episodes left of this half of this season-

I have seen a lot of people say this matt feels “out of character” and I think that’s the point. it’s supposed to be uncomfortable. there’s a lot of underlying tension in this season, it feels like something is building and we’re all waiting for the eruption. this is not the matt we saw in the original series. we will probably never get that matt back. this is season 3 matt but like times ten. he said he would rather die as the devil than live as matt murdock and he definitely “died” the night foggy was killed, in his daredevil suit on that roof. he also pushed dex off the roof, and although dex didn’t die so it wasn’t murder, matt still attempted to kill him, which still counts as crossing a line in his own head

matt is not living, he’s existing. he is a hollow shell of who he used to be. he lost everything that made him who he was

foggy, his best friend and moral compass. karen, his other best friend and voice of reason. he lost the two people who were essentially the only family he had left in the world. he lost his home, he told fisk he doesn’t go back to hell’s kitchen and doesn’t live there anymore. he lost his faith, he’s not going to church anymore. and he lost daredevil, his outlet to let his darker half out that made him feel like he was making a difference. this man is lost

the term “born again” is usually used to describe a religious transformation. I don’t think calling the show born again was just about matt returning as daredevil. I think it’s us seeing matt at his absolute lowest, hitting rock bottom, losing every sense of who he is, and then watching him rise from the ashes

I truly thought hector being murdered was gonna make matt lose his shit but now I’m very curious what’s going to make him actually snap and put the suit back on. I think the main reason he's fighting it so hard is to honor foggy's memory. foggy's last words to him were "I didn't want to give you a reason". foggy always wanted matt to put his faith in the system and do things the "right" way and matt is trying to do that but he's clearly struggling, because he has no faith in anything anymore

I have a lot of ideas about what I think is going to happen this season but I’d love to hear what y’all think so feel free to ramble with me or just scream or cry we can do that too

[iiseult]

Hello, I was wondering what the life of the female reader would be like when King Baldwin was not a leper. I mean, what would their life be like together as a married couple?

𝐵𝒶𝓁𝒹𝓌𝒾𝓃 𝐼𝒱 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈: 𝒩𝑜𝓃-𝓁𝑒𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝐸𝒹𝒾𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃

CWs → fluff, smut, probable historical inaccuracies, she/her pronouns, afab reader, mentions of religion, childbirth

Note: I know this took like over a month to get to, but in my defense I was working on completing the first arc of my multichapter Baldwin x reader fic. Also, if anyone’s interested, I started posting an alternate version of that on ao3 that’s in third person and from the perspective of a girl named Semele. As far as actual writing goes I think it’s much better quality simply because I don’t have to do all that corny second person bullshit or use the words “Y/N.” That’s a real pain in my ass. Anyway! 

Wordcount: 852

King Baldwin’s standards are high. He is a gorgeous young man with the world at his fingertips and he wants a woman, not a girl, to explore it with him. 

She must be good. She does not need to be rich or noble, but she needs to be selfless and kind and bold. And he needs someone who can match him in intellect so he doesn’t get bored. 

His hair frames his face in charming golden waves that fall to about his chin. His eyes are a deep cerulean, lined by long lashes, and his lips are pink and shapely, if a bit on the thin side. The nose is strong and straight, the jaw is square and sharp, the cheekbones are high and structured, and the skin covering it all is smooth and healthy. A light smattering of tiny freckles paint his nose and cheeks. His body is strong, with substantial broad shoulders, and what muscle he has is subtle but genuine. 

Sometimes his movements are awkward, a little different from other well-bred boys his age, and perhaps that’s what makes him so appealing. So mysterious. And, by the way, he certainly is appealing. 

Every woman that lays eyes on him, and even some that have never had that honor and know of him only from word of mouth, want him. Every woman thinks she can somehow be good enough for him. Of course, maybe one in one thousand of them actually is. 

When a lady finally catches his eye, it would be for her wit or her bravery. Perhaps she would beat him in a game of chess, or speak out against what she thinks is wrong. The more cruelty in her smile, the more attractive she becomes. 

When he proposes, it’s very romantic, very personal, and above all, very private. Though he surely makes the experience memorable for his future wife, he doesn’t do anything over-the-top. It does not involve other people, and perhaps it doesn’t even take place at a particular spot. The most important part of the proposal, after all, is the words he is speaking, the vow he is making. He puts his silver tongue to good use, so that saying no isn’t even an option anymore. How could she possibly turn him down? 

 He can’t wait to get his hands on her. The wedding night is something he has long been looking forward to, knowing that it would be worth it to wait for the right woman, and of course, it exceeds his expectations. How could he have guessed how soft, how supple her flesh would feel beneath him? How sweet and yielding? There was nothing that could have prepared him for the feeling of warmth that wholly enveloped him the first time they made love. It was something that could never be recreated by his own hand. It could only ever occur by the soft hand, or the cruel, relentless lips of his young wife. 

His body is young and robust, as is hers, and they are both brimming with passion and want. The first month of the marriage is spent mostly alone together, trapped in an endless cycle of tiring each other out, sleeping, waking, and doing the whole damned thing all over again. It would take no time at all for the seed to be planted in her fertile womb and a baby to begin to grow. 

Seeing his wife pregnant would only make him fall in love with her more, if such a thing were even possible. Now she is carrying a little miracle inside her, and to him, the world around her positively glows. He is, in a word, infatuated. So proud. He takes her into town and practically parades her around, the curve of her swollen belly growing more and more obvious under the fabric of her gown. Isn’t she beautiful, he would say to Raymond, and to Sybilla, and to anyone else who was unlucky enough to engage him in conversation. 

During the birth, he stayed by her side. He was the one to wipe the sweat from her forehead with damp towels, to hold her hand and cry softly from seeing her in such pain. He loves her so much, and he was going to love that baby, too. He was going to positively spoil it. That is, if it didn’t kill her! He cries more than she does during the birth, and though he does everything he can to ease her pain and help the midwife speed along the process, mostly he can do nothing but stand around and wring his hands and look helplessly at his love, his eyes swimming with wild fear and affection and awe. She’s so strong, how is she doing it? 

Once the baby is born, though the sheets of her bed are soiled with various fluids, he lays down next to his wife and holds her in his arms and she holds their baby in her arms, and they all sleep, a perfect family. The baby is going to look just like her, he thinks, and he will love it. 

[leonslutkennedeeznuts]

Lovin' Your Skin | Tattoo Artist!Leon x Fem!Reader

"With that, Leon flexed his arms so you could get a better look. He was covered in ink. You wanted to spend all day and night tracing your fingers over the works of art inked onto his skin, hearing his stories about what each tattoo represented." (AO3) | Tattoo Artist Leon credit:  tanya.gavva

You didn’t even want a tattoo but you figured it wouldn’t be that bad. Your pain tolerance was low, you weren’t 100% certain the design you’d picked would look good on your skin forever but Leon was sooo gorgeous. Just to be near him in the tattoo parlor for a few hours would make everything so worth it. Or so you’d thought.

Leon was covered in tattoos. He had sleeves on both arms and you could see the beginning of a neck piece as you stole a few glances at him here and there. He was so focused the few times you’d gone by the shop to watch him work. He was your friend’s tattoo artist. This was all her fault really. Months ago she’d asked you to come by with her for yet another tattoo and when you’d seen the blonde haired beauty of a man who did the work, you were head over heels.

“Name’s Leon,” he’d said as he shook your hand.

Leon. A name you wanted to be screaming every night.

“What makes you want a tattoo,” he’d asked you as your friend checked out her finished piece in the mirror behind him. “It can be addicting, I must warn you.”

You didn’t want a tattoo. You wanted him. Same difference.

“Always thought about it,” you lied, awkwardly laughing. You hoped he couldn’t read the lust on your face as you caught a glimpse of him licking his lips. “Yours look really cool, very intricate.”

With that, Leon flexed his arms so you could get a better look. He was covered in ink. You wanted to spend all day and night tracing your fingers over the works of art inked onto his skin, hearing his stories about what each tattoo represented.

“Wow,” you whispered, stepping closer to get a better look. “You did these all yourself?”

Leon shook his head. “Most but not all. Couldn’t reach my back but I designed that piece myself.” He winked at you before asking. “You want to see it?”

It was pathetic how fast you shook your head yes. Leon’s body was a work of art in itself. He made a little show of taking his shirt off for you, your friend laughing and shaking her head in the background still eying her own ink. How she was immune to Leon’s charm and sex appeal was beyond you.

Leon had a rose tattoo that started the sleeve on his right shoulder, in honor of his grandmother he’d said, that led into abstract shapes, you spied a spiderweb on his elbow and even a sea turtle on his inner arm, an Eagle on his neck- you stopped trying to decipher everything and started to take in the view of his abs. He’d been getting tattooed since his 21st birthday, something he’d done with his friends on a drunken dare after failing out of the police academy but quickly discovered his love of the profession.

After opening his first tattoo shop at 27, he started designing and doing his own tattoos as best as he could to promote his business. Now he was booked up months in advance. He always made time for your friend though.

His chest wasn’t covered yet, he’d mentioned thinking of leaving that bare for now. You imagined how your hands would rest perfectly on his pecs as you rode him into oblivion.

Leon caught you staring, you weren’t really hiding it. You wondered if he was tatted up from the waist down as well, how your untouched flesh would look against his in the heat of passion, how you wanted his name breathlessly leaving your lips-

“Do you want a tattoo, seriously?” Your friend’s voice cut through the sexual tension like a knife. “I think she’s lying, Leon.”

“No, I’m serious! I do want one. I have a Pinterest board of ideas,” you spat out hurriedly. “Here,” you said, lifting up your sleeve to show the spot on your wrist where you wanted to be inked.

Leon, still shirtless, took your wrist into his hands, eying it and you. “A wrist tat, hmm? I’d be honored to be your first,” he’d simply stated. Still shirtless. Still eyeing you in disbelief.

If he wanted to call your bluff, so be it as long as he was calling you.

“Yep and maybe a neck one too, ya know, one that people can’t see unless I wear my hair up.”

Your friend rolled her eyes and began to grab her purse and car keys. From what you’d seen her tattoo was beautiful, a bright Koi fish on her left shoulder to match the aquatic sleeve she was getting done eventually.

“I will believe it when I see it, Y/N. Don’t waste Leon’s time just because you think he’s hot,” she chided jokingly as she went to the door.

Leon put his tank top back on and handed you one of his business cards, letting his fingers linger on yours for a bit too long to be an accident.

“Well, Y/N, if you’re serious here’s my contact information. I don’t have any openings really in the next few months but text me and I will see what I can do for you.” He winked at you again. “Want to see this Pinterest board of yours.”

“Oh, right, totally! I’ll send you the link.” Great, now you had to create a Pinterest board of tattoos that you hoped Leon thought were cool. Your eyes lingered to the perfect pout of his lips then to his cerulean eyes. “I can’t wait to set up my appointment with you, Leon.”

You weren’t planning to actually get a tattoo. You just wanted a way to talk to him really and the guy owned a tattoo shop, clearly that was something he was passionate about. What better way to get his attention than to get him to tattoo you himself? Right?

—-------

It was Leon that actually called you first.

After that evening in his shop, you realized that if you did reach out to him that it would be obvious you weren’t really serious about all this. You were sure women flocked at him all the time with lies about tattoos to get him in their bed. You wouldn’t be the first.

Your friend was no help. She claimed that Leon either had a girlfriend already or was hooking up with a fellow artist at another shop.

“Her name starts with J, I think,” she’d said deep in thought. “Or maybe it’s the redhead biker chick from that bar.”

But you forgot all about that when you got a call from an unknown number a few days later.

“Leon?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he confirmed with a slight chuckle. “I never heard back from you about the tattoo, was wondering if you changed your mind about seeing me.”

You always wanted to see him. From the few times you’d met he had an effect on you but he was a huge flirt. Maybe he was just trying to get a new client aka more money, nothing personal.

“Oh, I- the tattoo,” you sighed and decided to come clean. “Look, Leon, I don’t know about that anymore.”

“Understandable, I honestly figured as much.” You heard some faint background noise of a horror movie playing in the background. Seems like he was home alone on a Friday night too.

“Well, in the spirit of being honest, Y/N, I was hoping to just see you again. Tattoo or not.”

You almost dropped your phone in shock. You didn’t know what you thought Leon’s type was but it definitely wasn’t you. He seemed like a total badass, a bad boy. You were a goody two shoes overachiever working a boring 9-5 while Leon was a daredevil risk taker.

Plus you were pretty sure Leon was a little over six years older than you. Which made his admission all the more arousing. You couldn’t help the throbbing you felt between your legs now.

“Cat got your tongue,” he teased, clearly enjoying this.

“No, I’m just kind of shocked,” you admitted. “I didn’t think I was your type really.”

You thought back to the women your friend had mentioned Leon dated. You’d seen them both in passing, looked nothing like you (or one another) but they were gorgeous. You felt so basic by comparison.

Leon was silent for a bit, you almost thought he’d hung up before you heard him clear his throat. “Hmm, how about I take you out tomorrow night and show you how much of my type you are?”

It was a date.

—-------

You don’t know exactly how this happened. One minute you were agreeing to let Leon walk you to your apartment door and the next he had you wet and begging for him to fuck you, his lips on your neck definitely leaving hickeys for everyone to see that you were his. The date had gone very well to your surprise and now it was about to get even better.

First thing you noticed about Leon was that he was an amazing kisser. His hands were feeling you up all over, just enough to get you hot and bothered and leaning into his embrace silently begging for more. He sucked your tongue and grinded into you, almost dry humping on the couch before you couldn’t take anymore and told him where your bedroom was.

Leon was an animal in bed and yet still a total gentleman, which you kind of expected but nothing prepared you for the real thing. He didn’t have tattoos from the waist down, and yes you looked quite thoroughly while you were down there with his dick sliding down your throat.

You’d never enjoyed giving head before tonight, before you’d met Leon and heard his whispers, groans and moans as you sucked him. At this angle, he was able to play with your pussy and rub your clit as you licked his pre-cum covered tip before attempting to deep throat him again.

“Fuck, Y/N, so good, you’re such a good girl,” he moaned. He slipped a finger, then another into your wet pussy. “Mmm, so tight, baby.”

You couldn’t talk if you wanted to with him so deep in your mouth but you moaned around his cock, causing him to cuss under his breath and pull out completely, not wanting to cum just yet. He rubbed his shaft on your swollen lips, your mouth almost desperately trying to suck him back in.

Leon took his fingers out of your pussy and sucked on them. “Gonna enjoy eating you out,” he whispered, kissing his way down to finally taste you. “I won’t stop until you cum.”

You could’ve finished right then and there just hearing him say that. When his tongue licked your center then up to your clit, you almost screamed. It felt so good, too good. You didn’t think you were going to last long at all. Seeing Leon’s gorgeous flush face clearly enjoying the taste of you was already too much and he’d only just started.

He held you by the back of your knees, pressing them into your chest as he licked, sucked and ate you like a man starving. You’d never cum from this before, never had someone so into it. You were squirming and bucking into his mouth earning more moans from him. When his tongue dipped into your pussy you did scream, his name leaving your lips over and over as you squealed and released onto his tongue.

“Leon, I’m cumming,” you whined in an almost broken voice, your toes curling and your eyes rolling back into your head. “Oh fuck, too much,” you begged, trying to wiggle out of his grasp to no avail as he kept licking you, refusing to waste a drop of your cum. “Leon, please.”

When Leon said he wouldn’t stop until you came, what he really meant was that he wouldn’t stop until you came twice. Despite the cramp in your legs you gripped his blond hair so hard you knew it was painful for him but he didn’t seem to mind, sucking and tonguing your pussy with more vigor than before.

He slid two fingers back into your pussy and you almost accidentally kicked him due to overstimulation. You were almost boohoo crying as Leon was just eating you out without a care in the world. You had no idea what you’d do when he finally fucked you, your nails clawing up his tattooed back leaving your own imprint on his skin even if it didn’t last forever.

Leon moaned and hummed against your cunt knowing how close you were again already. “Cum for me again, Y/N.” After a few more thrusts of his fingers against your g-spot you were seeing stars. “Now.”

This time you were sure the neighbors heard you. You’d be embarrassed at how pitiful you sounded later because right now you were in the throes of passion. Leon held you down with no effort as your body jerked and bucked against his eager mouth.

Nobody had ever made you cum this hard, reducing you into a blubbering mess, begging Leon to fuck you as your sweet cum covered his mouth and jaw.

“Holy shit,” you managed to breathe out when he finally freed you from his grasp. You didn’t know if you were floating or still laying on the bed at this point. If he told you it was Christmas day you’d believe him, your mind was so frazzled. “Fucking Christ, Leon.”

His Cheshire cat grin appeared above you, eying you with pure lust and pride. Leon had never been with someone so vocal before, it definitely stroked his ego.

“Believe me now?” Leon didn’t wait for you to respond before rubbing the tip of his cock against your almost sore clit.

“How about now,” he teasingly asked before slapping his shaft on your pussy.

He was so hard, almost painfully so. He’d wanted you since the first time you’d met but figured you weren’t into guys with tattoos. Go figure.

“Leon, please, just fuck me already,” you begged. You arched your back into his embrace, staring into his eyes as kept teasing you. “I’ll believe you when you fuck me.”

You knew Leon wasn’t going to be a missionary kind of guy, nothing wrong with that position but after having it so often with your lackluster ex, you wanted something a bit more. Being folded like a pretzel on the edge of your bed as Leon slid into you, his thick cock hitting that spot inside of you that had you whimpering- just what the doctor ordered.

With a pillow under your head you had the perfect view to watch Leon fuck you hard, deep and fast. Your slick was covering his cock, the sounds of your wetness and his balls slapping against your ass the soundtrack of your fuck session as the mattress creaked underneath you.

He was caressing your bouncing tits, squeezing and pinching your hard nipples just enough to keep you on edge but not enough to push you over just yet. You could barely decipher what you were even saying, just heavy breathing, squeaking and squealing Leon’s name over and over, praising and thanking him.

“You’re taking me so well, sweetheart,” you heard him whisper above you. Leon was in awe at the sight of your tight, little pussy creaming on his cock. He made sure to get you nice and wet so you could take him all without pain. “Fuck, Y/N, I want to fill you up.”

You gripped his tattooed arms to stay grounded to reality as your orgasm crept up on you, trying to memorize every piece of ink on his flesh in case this was a one time thing- in case you were actually dreaming and he wasn’t really here with you.

“Yeah, cum in me, Leon,” you heard yourself saying. It was like an out of body experience. You honestly felt like you’d disintegrate when you finally came on his fat dick. “It’s your pussy, baby. Only yours.”

Leon thrust into you slowly as you both came hard, bodies shaking and aching as you messily kissed one another, hands roaming all over while Leon grunted and came inside of you. You made sure to rub and caress his back as he did so, enjoying how he gave into your embrace as he filled you up until his cum began dripping out.

You still weren’t sold on getting a tattoo any time soon but dating a tattoo artist who was a beast in bed wasn’t the worst thing ever, you figured as sleep took over you both.

[theallianceofcelestials]

So @deyisacherry was curious about the Wedding AU I mentioned in my previous post, so here it is. Prepare for crack and a crossover with TSAMS.

So first of all, timelines. Over MASM it's pre-Chica introduction, and over at TSAMS it's pre-Subtle Foreshadowing *suffering screams intensify*

Beware, pure crack:

Sooo MASM Eclipse, the fucking creature, falls through a rift in between dimensions, and crawls out of the ballpit over at TSAMS's Daycare while Sun is the only in there, probably cleaning. So, in typical MASM Eclipse (is there a specific nickname for him? Like with Moonblock and Sunblock?) way the guy is raving about something - probably how much better he is, and what the heck are these shapes (balls) - and Sun, having dealt with crazy before, starts agreeing and praising the guy, so he'll leave and crawl back to where he came from.

But with the flavor of entity MASM Eclipse is, he falls for the guy who so clearly is the only sane person, having noticed immediately how much superior Eclipse is. And literally (I can't emphasize that enough) in a blink of an eye, Sun goes from being in the Daycare to walking down a wedding aisle, with the Creator strapped to a gurney rolling down beside him. He's in a white wedding suit that he doesn't know where it came from, nor how it's fitting him so well.

On one side of him, are all his family members tied to rolling chairs. Earth, Solar, Lunar, Dazzle and Jack sit in the front row with Nexus, Ruin and Dark Sun of all people sitting behind them. Lunar has already tipped his chair over and is gnawing on Nexus's tied leg. He can see Monty, Eclipse V4, Foxy and FC with Puppet behind them, along with their new dimension's Sun/Moon. A row or so behind them, also tied somehow, are Gemini, Nebula and Taurus. And in the very back row, taking up the entire row, is the Wither Dragon. Sun doesn't know how it's there. Tied. With rope.

On his other side are also tied people, a Sun, Moon, Monty, Freddy, Foxy and Roxy. The Sun seems to be switching between trying to squirm out of the ropes, and glowering at the Moon, while the Moon is staring at him, then the Sun, looking dead on the inside a little.

He's so distracted by the mind numbing confusion he doesn't hear what the priest is saying to him, only giving a haphazard "Yeah, sure." when he's asked about something. And then there's a ring on his finger. And he gets a smooch from the Eclipse. That's when he realises he just got married. To an Eclipse. Next to him, in the spot reserved for the best man/maid of honor, Moon looks just as shocked.

After a bit he's mentioning how he thought he'd be the best man on his brother's wedding, but at least he'd know his brother's significant other before the wedding.

During the after ceremony party, Sun begins to slowly untie his family's hands after Ruin mentions he wants cake, and Sun's in too big shock to be like: yeah, I hate this guy kinda. So he unties people's hands at least, ignoring Dark Sun, Nexus, the Creator, the Wither Dragon and the weird other dimensional people. Jack and Dazzle, having never been tied, are picking flowers. (Dazzle was the flower girl)

Sun, kind of afraid, asks Eclipse what they'll do on their wedding night, and Eclipse answers they'll do what everyone does obviously, Sun begins to sweat, plot evil things.

The cake is actually pretty good, which he mentions to his new husband, who boasts that of course, his chef is the best. He then points to said chef, and Sun asks if he's that blue rabbit. To which Eclipse says his chef i no rabbit, only knowing one blue bunny who's his arch nemesis, Bonnie the bunny. Who's a sheriff.

Now I kinda thought it'd be cool if the quick select inventory of MASM people was actually their belt, and visible to people from other dimensions who aren't from Minecraft dimensions, so Sun can see the glaring sheriff hat, which he asks his husband about. He's kinda shocked to find Eclipse(block????????) can't see the glaringly obvious thing there.

So he goes up to the "chef" to ask whether he's a sheriff or nah, and when a gun gets pointed at him, with a whisper of don't blow my cover, he gets kinda angry and just hits off the chef hat to replace with the sheriff one. Eclipse obviously pulls a Doofenshmirtz, and yells at everyone to get down, also pulling out a gun. So a shoot out starts happening, and Sun just backs away.

Moon suggests he grabs the tazergun that's on him, and he does so, warning his apparent husband and shooting the rabbit multiple times, because despite how sudden this is, and with whom it is, this is STILL HIS WEDDING AND HE'S NOT ABOUT TO HAVE IT BE EVEN MORE RUINED

They kinda just leave Bonnie there, and Sun tells his husband they're gonna have rabbit stew. Eclipse happily exclaims: Great! Sun get the stew, he'll get the rabbit. Then he leaves Sun there.

He turns towards the people he assumes are from his new husband's dimension, and asks if this is normal. It's important to note Monty's and Foxy's snouts are taped, and Moonblock is crying on the ground face down. Sunblock tells him yes.

Seeing as he's the only semi sane one, because the Freddy's just kind of smiling into the void, he unties Sunblock too, who follows him into the kitchen.

Upon learning the horrifying situation that's happening in MASM, he takes this kid under his wing, because what the hell, and begins teaching him how to cook. He's kind of having a freak out about how everything Sunblock cuts or peels ends up cube shaped.

Eclipse(block) returns with a "rabbit" that's actually just a person in a bunny suit, so Sun tells him it's not good enough for their 'evil stew', and Eclipse(block) agrees, throwing the person out. Before he can leave, Sun texts him an actual rabbit farm's address, so they don't end up with another human in a rabbit costume situation.

He actually tells Sunblock he's proud of him when he finishes cutting up the potatoes, and the kid begins crying so hard it's concerning. He pats him on the back a little, telling him to watch the stew, while he goes out to talk with Moonblock, to ask why he's crying still.

Freddy tells him Moonblock has been in love with Sunblock this entire time, and is just bad at expressing his affection and thought his bullying was teasing, so Sun makes an offer to coach him about it, because he knows what a Sun likes, (maybe??), so he can help Moonblock better himself so Sunblock will maybe like him. He asks his Moon and EAPS Moon to be positive role models for him.

Then he sets Jack on Bonnie, telling him he said a mean thing about Dazzle. When Solar tries stepping in, he tells him the MASM lore, so Solar decides to look away just this once. They also set Jack on MASM Foxy and Monty.

It is now a good time to mention that during the wedding, because of his loud hackling and insults, Eclipse(block??) created a remote out of a stick, a leaf and the priest's spit of all things, and muted the Creator. Other people - see Nexus - were muted in a different way.

Upon return to the kitchen is is flooded with tears, and the stew is now overly salty. Sun doesn't mention this however, deciding to add pasta instead too. Eclipse(block) return with an actual - live - rabbit, and when Sun mentions skinning it, he just stabs it, earning the loot from it. Sun is horrified to find the organs and bones gone.

He asks his new husband how to unmute people, getting told to just say unmute, and he leaves his husband with their new 'evil apprentice'. He thinks he sees Eclipse read a parenting book.

He approaches Dark Sun, hoping he has answers about what's going on, but he only gets a negative, but they both confirm it's probably a Minecraft dimension, and not a fever dream. Then Sun unmutes Nexus too, not before warning him to behave because the only thing keeping him alive right now is Sun tellin g Taurus to wait until after the wedding to kill him, because it's a happy occasion, and leaves him and Dark Sun against a table with a slice of cake each. They're still tied. (And the Wither Dragon's dead)

Sun also tells Moon about the rabbit thing, because he's horrified, and Moon asks if he could do experiments on Sun's new hubby. Sun declines for now.

They think Bonnie is dead, not being able to survive another dimension's laws and weapons, or is at least on the brink of death. Since he's still twitching.

So far it's only this, but like the future of this holds potential for a lot of crack treated semi-seriously. And also to better Sunblock and Moonblock's relationship, so they don't get to where canon is.

[seokgyuu]

The Sweetest Thing - Teaser

All your life you’ve been your sisters’ punching bag. Never good enough. Never fully accepted. When your mother makes one of them choose you as her maid of honor you reluctantly agree. Semi-vacationing in Tuscany with your ‘beloved’ family, you meet two handsome strangers one night and let them do whatever they want with you. Too bad you didn’t ask for their names first.

Pairing: Heeseung x F!Reader x Sunghoon 

Genre: Strangers to ???, Porn with Plot

Warnings: CHEATING!!! reader is hooking up with her sisters’ fiancés, sisters are horrible and suck, mentions of past verbal abuse, reader is somewhat a pervert (she defo is), heeseung & sunghoon definitely are perverts, heeseung & sunghoon are mean, they have nothing good to say about their fiancés, alcohol consumption, adult content MDNI! smut warnings will be in actual fic

Word Count: 5.7k (so far)

Release Date: August 8th

Taglist: @skzenhalove, @haelahoops, @deobitifull, @shiningnono, @jakeswifez, @slut4hee @gyuhanniescarat , @branchrkive @doublebunv , @capri-cuntz, @jaehyuniewifeu, @whateverhoon, @c-oupsie you can be added by replying to this post or sending me an ask <3 there must be an age indicator in your blog since this is a nsfw fic! 

Something about the Italian sky seems different. Maybe it’s because you’re not close to a big city, but the stars shine brighter than you’ve ever seen them. It feels like a movie; the stars and moon so visible with no cloud in sight, the small street of Arezzo you’re currently sitting in - a small restaurant with a small menu but a nice older man that speaks decent English. A glass of wine standing on the small table beside you and the first bit of peace you’ve felt in days. 

It’s when you take your next sip of wine you see them. 

Two men straight out of a magazine walking towards one of the free tables next to yours and sitting down. There is nothing you can do but stare. Both of them have dark hair, one of them a bit shorter than the other. They are dressed elegantly, designer shoes and pants, blazers hanging over their chairs. Even if you wanted to - you could not possibly say which one was more attractive. 

What a nice way to end a horrible day, you think. Smiling, you finish your glass and immediately order the next, not entirely used to drinking so much, but not caring since you are miles away from home and no one here knows you anyway. The waiter nods and then proceeds to go over to the newcomers. The one with the slightly lighter hair and the mole on his nose orders in perfect Italian, with just enough of an accent for you to know they aren’t from here. Your choice of table appears to be perfect for watching them, listening to them converse in a language you understand. 

And it all stays innocent like this - they talk about their flight and about friends - until suddenly the conversation sways.

“I honestly- fuck, I can’t believe we’re actually doing this, you know?” The one with shorter hair says and his friend sighs, taking his wine glass and finishing it in one go. Impressive. There was at least half left in yours. 

“I don’t know what to tell you. We committed and now we’re fucked.”

“Just that we aren’t getting actually fucked.”

They look at each other before they laugh, shaking their heads. Meanwhile, your ears perk up. 

“Fuck, I really don’t know the last time she let me hit it, Hoon. I think I’m going crazy.”

“Yeah, same here. Like, yeah, we fucked once the day before her flight. But literally only missionary and she didn’t suck me off.”

“Again? Dude, is she ever even putting her mouth on it?” 

“Nope. Ever since we got engaged she’s like this fucking prude. Is yours like that too?”

“Yeah. I got her flowers and her favorite chocolates and she still wouldn’t even jack me off, like fuck, if it’s gonna be like this forever I can just go cut my dick off.”

Jesus. These two seem to be in very happy relationships. Makes you almost feel better to not be in one. Even if your mother would beg to differ. She’s been desperate for you to find a match for ages. For whatever reason, really, considering her two golden girls were about to get married to rich and handsome heirs. 

“Just one good blowjob, man, that’s all I want, really. I miss getting some good fucking head.”

The way short hair looks at mole - with so much understanding and pity, you can’t help but chuckle. Chuckle loud enough for them to take notice. 

Their gazes burn on your face before you even see them. But when you do your smile dies and instead makes room for horror. They heard you laugh at them. Even worse, they know you’ve been listening. Shit. 

Thankfully, you are three glasses of delicious white wine in and the fourth one is almost empty. Which means you aren’t the sweet little wallflower you’d usually be. Scary, how alcohol can change people.

“Oh, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have eavesdropped.” You apologize, placing your hand over your heart. 

“Agreed.” Short hair says, his eyebrow raised. Now, with both of their eyes on you, it seems like they are even more attractive. Perfect faces with pretty eyes and soft looking hair. Handsome men in unhappy relationships that fail to give them what they need. It’s almost comical how the switch in your head turns over, how the persona you normally never let anyone see until you’re in a secluded space comes out and gives you the courage to speak your next words.

“I just couldn’t believe my ears,” you let your finger glide over the rim of your glass, eyes on the two men with your tongue slipping out to lick over your bottom lip, “how anyone would be opposed to having sex with you.” 

Oh.

Sunghoon and Heeseung’s ears perk up just like yours did earlier. Eyes widen slightly as they understand the innuendo in your words. 

They think about the same thing - the last time they took a girl together. Probably during senior year in college. Back then, they used to do that regularly. Having almost the identical type in women. Instead of having to let her choose, she’d get them both. 

But it’s been years since then. They are in committed relationships now, about to get married. And still - neither of them can deny that you fall right into their usual prey, or well, the prey they’d chosen back in college before their parents had picked out their wives for them. 

It’s the way you look at them, the way your eyes say so much more than your words. It is also the way both of them feel like they are 22 again with nothing but getting their dick wet on their minds. One thing about Heeseung and Sunghoon - they always worked perfectly in a pair. Back in college and now, too. They can almost read each other’s minds at this point, only a short exchange of looks needed to know neither of them gave a single fuck about anything right now.

“Want to sit down with us?” Sunghoon asks and points at the free chair opposite them. You smile. 

“It’d be my pleasure.”

header credit @wongyuseokie <3

[theunholybastard]

Hi! This is my first time sending a request for anything 😅 but I was wondering if you could maybe write about the era 5 ghouls/ghoulettes comforting the reader while they're on their period? Basically, it's just comfort/fluff. My favorite is Phantom and I feel like he'd be such a sweetheart 🥹

Hi, lovely! 👋 I'd be honored to take your first request! I didn't know how exactly you wanted me to write it, so I just went with some little headcanon blurbs. Lmk if you want me to rewrite a drabble/full length fic of any specific character/s and I'll get to that when I have the time. <3 Enjoy!

Era 5 Ghouls/Ghoulettes Period Comfort Headcanons

(CW - Brief mentions of period sex/blood kink for Swiss and Sodo/Dewdrop)

Phantom:

He's a little confused, but he's got the spirit.

His knowledge on the human body, especially the female anatomy, is limited, so he's not entirely sure how to help you. He is however, a great listener, and is always willing to do whatever you ask of him to make you feel better, no hesitation.

Building off of him being a great listener, he's also more than down to just listen to you complain. Whatever you choose to talk about, period-related or not, he is sat, intently listening to every word.

He's a very curious ghoul - he wants to hear about your feelings, he wants to know what's making you feel the way you feel, and how to make it better.

Food is his love-language. Always ready to pick up whatever food you're craving at the moment, at any time. Wake him up at 2 A.M and say you want ice cream? He's immediately out the door to get ice cream. (and picking up some cookie dough for himself, too.)

Three words: Food, Movies, Cuddles. Snacking with you, bodies intertwined, while watching your favorite movies, is his own personal Heaven. (ok maybe Heaven isn't the right word but ykwim)

He's a messy eater, so make sure not to let him eat in your bed. Other than that, you're in good hands.

Rain:

If you like physical affection, you're in luck, because Rain is the unofficial King of Cuddles™️

Babies you, but not in the belittling way.

Yes, he knows you can get out of bed and do things yourself, but why would you so much as lift a finger when you have him to pamper you?

Sings to you and plays guitar for you

If you're ever feeling self-conscious during this time, he will do anything and everything in his power to make you feel beautiful

Compliments you any chance he can get, brushes your hair for you, has skincare nights with you (loves floral-scented face masks and those cucumber eye masks)

He makes sure you are very well taken care of

Mountain:

Also babies you, but unlike Rain, it does feel a little belittling. He means well, though.

Freaks out over you just getting out of bed to use the bathroom. Insists he carries you because you're "too weak and fragile to do anything in this state."

You're pretty much bedridden for a week, sorry.

Prepares healthy meals for you, loves hearing you compliment his cooking.

Insists that nature is the best medicine. Opens the windows to get you some fresh air. Will gladly go on walks with you if you manage to convince him you're fine and perfectly capable of movement.

Picks you fresh flowers

Plays with your hair to help you fall asleep

Sodo/Dewdrop:

Also doesn't really know how to help you.

Just kinda treats you like normal, unless youre having pains

Offers you painkillers, but if you'd rather not take medicine, he'll rub your stomach, your back, whatever area is bothering you.

Lucky for you, he's got the body temp of a furnace. He's your own personal heating pad.

Also suggests orgasms help reduce cramping. Doesn't push it, but he makes sure you know he doesn't mind parting the red sea

Swiss:

Oh Lord. This man. Is so horny.

Obviously he doesn't press if sex isn't something you're interested in during this time. He'll find other ways to comfort you. Though sex is his favorite way to do it.

LOVES giving massages. He'll lay down one of those hydrophobic blankets so you can free bleed while he gives you a full-body massage he might get hard

Very touchy. Cannot keep his hands off you. Constant cuddling.

Builds you a little nest of pillows, blankets, stuffed animals, anything soft and comforting to you that he can find. You basically live in a blanket fort for like a week.

You can talk to him about anything period-related. Don't bother sparing the gruesome details, TMI does not exist with him. Nothing you could say would shock him.

Cirrus:

Princess treatment, 24/7.

Fawns over you when you're having cramps, not leaving your side until you feel better.

Tells you silly stories or gossip to distract you from your cramps. Anything to get a smile out of you. Shes the ultimate yapper gf (except for maybe Aurora)

Self care nights! Bubble baths, painting each others nails, doing each others makeup, braiding each others hair (or you could just braid hers if your hair is too short)

Whispers words of affirmation in your ear as you sleep in hopes it will make you subconsciously feel better

Cumulus:

Tells you she will personally fight God for giving you a period. Mainly just to make you laugh. But she would if she could.

If Rain is the Cuddle King, then consider her the Cuddle Queen™️

So soft. So comfy. You are in for some GODLY naps.

Cooks for you and insists on feeding you herself (she's been tempted to go "here comes the airplaaane!" but she doesn't want to risk pissing you off)

Cleans up your space for you so a dirty environment doesn't cause you additional stress. Will scold you like a disappointed mother if you try to take over the work.

Sings you to sleep

Makes sure you have a comfy place to relax and a nice full belly at all times

Aurora:

Shes really not as helpful as she thinks she is, but she tries.

Shes a very energetic ghoulette, so if your idea of comfort during this time is doing as little physical activity as possible, she's gonna be a bit out of her element.

Offers to go on a run together, swearing it's the best distraction for if you have cramps.

But if you'd rather stay in bed, she will oblige. She does love cuddles. Shes very touchy.

She uses your period as an excuse to buy a shit load of candy. She ends up getting a stomach ache because she ate most of it and now you have to comfort her. At least she's cute though

Gets excited if your cycles are synced up because that means you two can free-bleed together

Brings home little trinkets for you like a crow

-

[fenharel-is-so-swell]

A Cold Welcome Home

Zayne x You(MC) x Caleb

-----a/n: okay y'all, this is essentially one of my first ever fics. I wrote a few DA fics when I was 17 or so, but nothinnnn since. This is very unedited and I'm very rusty. It was all written at 4:00am last night lmao so, yk, blame it on the sleep deprivation. All the "I'm sorrys" in the word to my moots that have never seen me do the seggs stuff on main. Idk how to format writing at all on here, so hopefully that gets better for if I post the actual full smuteroony.

This is also my first time writing second person so, apologies if the tenses get funky as I figure it out. I will hear nothing about my liberal use of pipsqueak, in a country full of Neanderthals I wear that shit with a fucking badge of honor.

-----Draft intro word count: 1.3K (what I have written beyond this totals 3.1k)

-----warnings for this draft: mdni, smut, jealousy, soft-ish non con?(I mean, there are assumptions of interest), blow job, grief mention, spoilers, cursing, defo some angst here, many incomplete and run on sentences bc i love themmmm

-----about: You don't know how you would have gotten through the year without Zayne, the loss of Caleb and Josephine nearly undid you. Though, if there is a silver lining to be found it's that it pushed you two closer. So close, in fact, you have some apologies to make after you "mistakenly" get him drunk with liquor filled chocolate. Unfortunately for you both, Caleb is back and (?)better(?) than ever.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You knew one thing for certain—Zayne was going to combust. Well, in reality, Zayne was going to do whatever the opposite of combustion was once he finally noticed the figure darkening his doorway.

A shaky breath slipped from between your parted lips. Caleb was at the hospital. Caleb was in Zayne’s office. Your mind reeled, tumbling through curses at Y’vonne. You glanced at the wall clock that read 2:25 in the morning. You realized that the old security guard that manned the desk at this hour likely had no clue who Caleb was. Had no clue he was dead -- that you had grieved him. The old baton wielding fucker absolutely didn’t realize you were busy apologizing to Zayne for the stunt you pulled with the chocolate. Lavishing the bulge in his snug slacks with your tongue, savoring the raspy moans that slipped from the slackened O of his mouth. Desperate, pleading, pitiful, gentle sounds you’d worked so hard to get him to produce. He was so very guarded and always in control. He was just beginning to soften up, to believe you wouldn’t despise him for not being perfectly poised, that one mistake wouldn’t hurt you or make you hate him.

You begged Caleb not to let Zayne know he was back. To let you deliver the news. You just wanted one more night of unguarded eyes, sloppy, needy fucking, and gentle dreamless sleep wrapped in Zayne’s cool embrace.

But the love triangle that never was still infused its bitter jealousy into everything. You felt it in the possessive streak knotted through Caleb’s every action upon his return. It was whispered in the slurred drunken fear of failure, of loss, in Zayne’s more vulnerable moments. You placed your hands on Zayne’s thighs, staring up at him, your guilt and apology laid bare in your gaze. The soft adoration in his expression maimed your soul, the raw reverence was humbling as much as it was heartbreaking. Hazy with desire his eyes flitted over to the open door to his office.

You felt his world shift. Like those videos you’d seen online of incomprehensibly large glaciers cracking. Giant chunks falling from the larger mass so slowly it almost looked gentle. Crashing into the waters below with strangely soft bellowing splashes. Zayne’s heart cracked. The warmth in his gaze hardened over. His brows twitched between surprise and outrage. Nothing could ever be the same. You shifted back on your knees. Letting your bum rest against your heels, your gaze turned towards Caleb.

Your lips were dry, your face a sticky mess from the saliva drenching Zayne’s pants. Your tongue flicked out, wetting your whisper “You promised.”

Caleb chuckled; the sound was cruel. You’d noticed it when he first…resurrected. A strange edge existed within him now, something that sat discordant with the warm memories you had of the boy you grew up with. A round face with too big front teeth, his peach fuzzed mouth smeared in chocolate ‘stolen’ from the free sample tray at the convenience store down the street, the gangly teen who held your hand in that haunted house and only laughed a little when you screamed, the man who was a dutiful pilot and only slightly unreliable surrogate grandson to Josephine. He wasn’t that Caleb, not entirely at least. It wasn’t the same.

“Oh come on pipsqueak, you know it only counts if it’s a pinky promise.”

Zayne finally reacted with something other than shock. His gently voice just reaching your ears. “Stand up, darling.”

You sighed. “I can’t.” Your ankles had started screaming from the angle, but Caleb’s evol didn’t let up. You had felt it fall over you the moment he entered the room, its gentle oppression a sweet agony. It was so familiar; you had missed him so much.

The way he used his evol was yet another change you had noticed. His evol used to soften the blow if you slipped out of a tree you were climbing, or to lighten your backpacks on the way to school. Now he used both aspects of his control in equal measure. Lessening gravity’s grounding force to make it even easier to trap you in the pretty cage of his arms, toss you around, keep you at his mercy. He liked to make the pressure punishing and indomitable when he wanted you to just sit still, when he wanted you restrained. Though, in all of your memories of that year where it was the three of you, you recalled that he never once softened Zayne’s fall. He never lessened the weight of his books or kept him upright as he balanced when you three would tip toe along the guardrails. That kindness was seemingly reserved for you. You felt stupid for assuming he’d afford any such saccharine sweetness to Zayne now.

Zayne stood, placing himself in front of you. You noticed his evol creeping up his hand, his back pin straight as he struggled to maintain control.

“You let her grieve.” Zayne’s soft tone was a condemnation.

“And you were more than willing to be her shoulder to cry on.” Came Caleb’s sharp retort.

You sighed weakly. “Can we please not do this?” Your fingers twitched, itching to reach for Zayne’s hand, to resonate and soothe his evol.

“Oh, I have a lovely idea instead pipsqueak.” Caleb’s lips spread into a wicked, playful smile. He pulled the lone rolling stool in Zayne’s office from the corner of the room. Scooting it towards you both.

Caleb had a feeling he’d find you two like this. While catching up you had mentioned Zayne a few too many times. He dug around a bit and identified the nature of your relationship. It made something sick burst to life in his gut. While he was dead and gone you were sidled up to Josephine’s second favorite, the only person she told to look after you. It made him want to claim you, to own you, to possess you, to fuck the memory of anyone else in the world out of you. You were his, you were always his. You would always be his; you pinky promised.

Zayne shifted his stance, ice spread from under his shiny black dress shoes. it bit into your knees as it reached you. The pain was a familiar distraction.

Caleb waved a dismissive hand. His grin was still plastered on his face. “Don’t stop on my account.”

Zayne scoffed, but something grotesque twisted deliciously in your gut.

With panty liquefying horror you realized you wanted to punish him; you wanted to punish Caleb. You wanted him to hurt as much as losing him had hurt you. The way he waltzed back into your life as if everything were okay, as though your life and desires should cow to the threads of a deeper love, of a darker attraction, that were building before he ‘died’. It infuriated you. You had to pick up the pieces. Zayne helped you pick up the pieces. He made sure you weren’t being overly reckless on missions, that you still had someone to come home to, that you could find out the deeper cause of all of this pain. He soothed the ache, and from his quiet constant love your own blossomed.

Caleb chuckled again beckoning Zayne to look at you. Finally, finally, those cool green eyes met your own and widened a bit in shock. Whatever he saw in your gaze made him break his unrequited stalemate with Caleb. He dropped to his knees before you, gathering your face into his hands he schooled his features into a blank canvas. His eyes bore into your soul.

“You want this.” He stated.

It wasn’t a question as it was obvious that your desire, no matter how twisted, was written all over you. Your slightly huffed breaths, your pulse thrumming visibly in your neck.

With a small nod, Zayne stood. He leveled a look at Caleb and spoke as he slowly undid his belt. You nearly wept at the sight. The way his hands always calmly, methodically, tortuously took their time disrobing both of you.

“Though my lectures are normally booked months in advance. I suppose I have time to teach a bit of human anatomy.” A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

[ruckooos]

What about each of the Black Dragon guys x reader during a movie marathon? What snacks do they bring, genres do they like.. do they talk during movies or get frustrated at the plot? I wanna know everything :3

RUCKOOOS' NOTES: this is the best ask I've ever gotten /lh. I'm gonna have so much fun w/ this 😭 I'm also proud of the title, plus compliment it and call me amazing.

CONTENT: Disturbed Kano, Kabal being a himbo (canon), Erron being awkward, gluttony, psychological torture, mental deterioration, maniacal actions, psychopathy, sadism. I'm kinda all over the place

WATCHLIST

All 3 black dragon men x gn!reader

__KANO

strikes me as a violence, splatterpunk enjoyer.

his favorite movie of all time is Terrifier 2 definitely. Now I say this because of a... certain scene (iykyk) which I can honestly see him taking as inspiration

But aside from Terrifier, Kano would be a Saw fanatic, with Saw VI being his favorite.

Some honorable mentions for movies he has violated your optic organs with + where you watched them:

-Hostel: he took you to Europe (or back to Australia if you alr live there) for vacation, treating you like a prince/princess/royalty the whole day. This was partly so he could drop the bomb of this movie on you at night, but obv bc Kano luvs u <3. Anyways, you two were settling down in your hotel room, when he brought up the idea of watching a movie to end the day. "Just to end it on an even betta' note" he'd say, "I promise I know a reeaally romantic one that you'll like" You trusted him, turning a blind eye to the fact that you're with a deceived conman, completely placing your eyes in the trust of a man with an affinity to violence. He puts on the movie Hostel, and for the first part you didn't really see the romantic bit, just some goons who were trying to lose their virginity. Safe to say, about an hour in, you were mentally deteriorating at the rate of a war veteran. Kano definitely had to spoil you even more the next day as an apology -Final Destination 5: This one, you knew what you were getting yourself into. Doesn't mean you fully agreed to it, though. Kano went on his knees to beg you to allow him to show you. "It's really really fantastic, I promise, doll! It ain't even that bad! Just please please let me play it." *sigh* you just had to say yes! How could you say no to his gorgeous puppy eye? (LMAOO) When the acupuncture scene started, Kano looked into your eyes excitedly, wondering how you'd react. Would you scream (lovingly)? Would you shrivel (lovingly)? Would you just die inside (lovingly)? He was dying to see your face. When the man fell on his back, stabbing his back with the acupuncture needles, Kano was in an uncontrollable fit of laughter to see you wince and hide your face in a pillow. "Come onnnnnn, sweets! It wasn't even that bad!" yes it was.

If ever he's watching a new violent film for the first time, which is quite rare tbh, I see him with his jaw dropped, lips curled in a bit of a smirk while he watches people die. He wouldn't even laugh, he'd be speechless from being impressed.

You don't see it, mainly because he hides it, but he has a notepad by his side, with contraptions and methods jotted down.

BUT BACK TO THE PROMPT: during a movie marathon, he'd watch terrifier 1 and 2, with Final Destination 5 as a "break"

yes. He honestly thinks Final Destination isn't that violent. :l

He wouldn't do very long movie marathons, 3 movies max. BUTTT he could go longer if there were more violent movies out there.

You better thank the lucky stars there aren't a lot of very gory movies that Kano hasn't watched to memorization, or else you'll be strapped down to your seat watching six hours worth of people dying.

yeah... Our fine shyt is fucked up

Regarding his manners while watching a movie, he's a clapper and a cheerer 100%. He'd laugh loudly at kill scenes, nudging your shoulder to see how you'd react.

You:

let's do something more lighthearted now! What if you were to pick a movie?

He's ok with it, wouldn't be too invested, but isn't that bummed out by it. A casual movie watcher when you pick the movies; 3 movies definitely being his maximum

but only when you're picking the movie 💀 he's kinda selfish

What snacks would he bring?

I don't think this man eats anything while watching a movie tbh, I just can't see him eating candy, popcorn or a finger food that much.

I mean, he wouldn't go out of his way to make something (unless you beg him to make you popcorn, which he'll do) to watch a movie with -but if you gave him a snack, or if there was anything lying around, Kano would snack on it.

At most, i feel like the most this man would eat are things like chips and fries. he doesn't eat them often, but when you get them for him, he's a sloppy eater; chomping on them with his mouth open while laughing at people getting stabbed

You have to vacuum, deep clean, change the sheets, UV ray the area you two watched a movie in whenever he brings a snack. My man is a SWINE, leaving crumbs everywhere.

JUST AS A BONUS: He'd be sitting on the couch, an arm around the cushions, while you lay your head on his chest.

dream man fr <3

__KABAL

he's into everything. any and all movies, he can vibe with.

Doesn't matter if it's romance, comedy, rom-com, action, thriller, as long as you're there. But he does feel more interested in action movies.

Not action as in superheroes, although ofc he loves those too, he really appreciates movies with constant motion. (I'll expound on this more in a bit)

but tbh, I don't see him as a person who would gravitate to super violent movies.

NOT TO SAY HE'S INNOCENT AND PURE, I just feel like he doesn't want to be reminded of his job while he's with you

But ofc that's not to say he'll be turned off by violence. if, for example, the movie you two were watching had a gory scene, he'd still laugh at it.

"Did he just rip his fucking head off? Babe look, the blood on this is so realistic..!" "I know, I know already!" "The muscles are pulsing..!" "STOP DESCRIBING ITTT." you proceed to throw a pillow at him.

For your movie marathon, I see him watching 1990s-2000s. a HUUUUGEEE sucker for that era of movies.

Corniest mf in town. YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME THIS MAN DOESN'T WATCH SCOTT PILGRIM VS. THE WORLD

he doesn't care if it was ass, it's fun to see how trash it is, and thus it still counts as a good movie to him

he loves bad movies, he doesn't know why, but watching straight garbage for an hour and a half is just so entertaining. Maybe it's because he's a bad person (jk ^_^) but he always laughs at the actors, the characters, the people involved more than he laughs at the movie itself.

"That was horrible... Did people actually put their fucking money on this?" he scoffs, chuckling a bit.

trash is entertaining, what can i say. Thus I don't think he'd every complain about the plot. He'd only ever get frustrated with the details.

"Who the fuck says that in real life?" "What was the point of that?" "She could have just left the building, why did she stay???" "Babe, it's a movie."

But he is also an appreciator of good movies, let's not perpetuate the idea that our speedy fine shyt doesn't have standards !!! (he's with you ofc he has standards)

The Matrix and Constantine will always be his favorite movies, these are the kinda movies that are his favorites to watch, I believe.

This is what I mean by action movies, there's a constant problem that has to be solved instantly. Kabal feels gravitated here, mainly because he resonates with the feeling of fighting against something or battling an adversary.

A bit dark, yah ik, but it's more subconscious than he realizes. for all he knows, he just likes them.

BUT HE ALSO LOVES COMEDY, ROMANCE, SLAPSTICK AND ALL THE LIKE.

Take movies like Not Another Teen Movie, Legally Blonde, Notebook, Norbit, Madea, for example. The tearjerker movies and movies with raunchy, stupid humor are fun watches for him

lock me up, gag me with a chain, tie me to a post, sink my jailcell IDC. YOU CAN'T TELL ME THIS MAN DOESN'T LIKE NAPOLEON DYNAMITE.

I honestly think four is his average; if he's super tired then he'll watch 2 with you and pass out, if he's sat down with a whole free day, then he can do six.

The movie you two will watch will be: Die Hard, Devil's Advocate, Legally Blonde (just as a breather), then Notebook to end the night.

IF YOU KNOW THE WAY I SEE KABAL, YOU'D SEE WHY THESE MOVIES MAKE SENSE. In my canon world, Kabal has the most secure masculinity more than anybody.

He's a whisperer when it comes to manners while watching the movie. Kabal would lean in close and just whisper things... A LOT

This man. Talks. So. damn. Much.

EVEN WHEN HE'S NOT WHISPERING IN YOUR EAR, HE MUTTERS

You might as well turn down the volume of the movie the way this man is basically the subtitles. SHUT UP KABAL (jk don't ahaha you're so sexy)

"Ahhh that's why it's called Legally Blonde. She's blonde, and she's in law." "Why the fuck is he barefoot..." "He could have just told her the truth, why the fuck did he make it harder for himself? Tsk." "Kabal shut uppppppppp"

in terms of snacks, this man is canonly the one dude who can't open a bag of chips, and it also the dude who finishes the food before the intro ends.

Imagine you're trying to get immersed when Noah and Allie make out in the rain, and you hear this man grunt and scoff, struggling to open a Ruffles bag 💀

"Kabal, just let me do it." "Shut up I can do it myself..." he says in between grunts, trying to figure out where the strip is, making crinkling noises that drown out the movie. "no you can't just give it to me." he grumbles, handing it to you.

my little himbo airhead <3 (he's a murderous merc)

don't let this man hold your popcorn box. You put it in his hand, then 1... 2... 3... it's in the trash, emptied out and completely cleaned out

I feel like you two would be lying down, with you laying your back to his chest with his arm slung under your arm.

LOVE THIS MANNNNN

__AARON BLACK

This man is the most chill of the three

istg this man is so normal

too normal...

our unbothered fine shit is not too avid on cinema, let alone movie marathons.

But it's been a while since you two had time to settle down and relax with one another, so after a couple minutes of begging, he rolls his eyes and hands you the remote.

You'd lie down on his lap, while he rested his head on his hand, his elbow on the couch's armrest, while you were flicking through the movies.

This man is classic. Talented Mr. Ripley, Truman Show, The Shining, Lost Boys, and Back to the Future are paradigms of his taste.

Like Kabal, he's ok with whatever you want to watch, but UNLIKE Kabal, he won't like it.

Not big on girly movies, gory movies, romance, comedy and all the like.

He has very robust standards, and he'll put up with whatever you want, but the afformentioned are the ones that he'll actually enjoy.

I'd think that he'd only watch two or three movies, most of the time it's just two.

IDK I don't think he's that big on movies, but he can barely say no to you.

it's mostly a time issue, but even when you two have a lot of time, he'd rather spend it on more personal and romantic things than movies. but wtv, he's here with you now :3

the movies he'd watch with you are Lost Boys, Talented Mr. Ripley, and one that you wanna watch. Since he's a sweet boy (not rlly) he'll let you watch your movie first.

I feel like he's so boring when it comes to movies 😭 like he would rewatch these movies again and again, and never gets bored.

The last time he found a movie he liked was in the 90s, PICTURE THAT.

I think this is also why he barely complains about things: He's either watched it so many times that he's desensitize to it, or he just simply does not gaf.

In terms of how he'd act while watching a movie, I see that he'd be dead silent and motionless. Occasionally he'll rub your chest or head, which you really need so that you're reminded he's there.

He is dead silent too, and I feel like this also bleeds into his real life, but he makes no sound. You can't hear his breathing or heartbeat, sometimes you have to look up at him to see if he's alive and he just looks back down at you like 🤨

awkward dead-inside fine shyt, ilysm <333

This man doesn't bring snacks btw! He brings MEALS

definitely the type to bring whole steaks, string beans, rice, carrots, sauce and BEER to a movie marathon.

I'm not kidding, he's just eating whole ass courses while watching Lost Boys, and tbh that's kinda iconic.

doesn't let you get a bite tho >:( mean

he's also so expressionless other than his rbf, so if you were playing your movie, you'd have to wait almost two hours before you can tell wether or not he hated it. MOST OF THE TIME HE DOESN'T EVEN SAY ANYTHING.

He'd just go "It was fine."

[mc-tums-fog]

Under The Desert Sky

Fic Summary: Upon arriving in Australia from America and taking up the job as a ranch hand for the Marston Ranch for the sake of your family, the only thing you could find worthwhile of your attention was the night sky that was endless of stars. But that might start to change when you find that the particularly precise ranch owner sees you as someone worthwhile of his attention.

Pairing: Elliott Marston x GN! Reader

Chapter I: To Catch a Glimpse of the Stars

Content Warnings For This Chapter: Period-Typical Racism (Mentions against the Aboriginal people and Native Americans), Ableist Language/Ableism, Canon-Typical Violence

Notes:

Right now the plan for this is to be 5 parts long with each part uploaded on Tuesdays so hopefully at least one of those two stick.

TL;DR: Your Honor, his ass is down so bad to fix him and his racism he made a canon divergence fic

Also shout out to @smilingformoney cause I like how she formats fics on Tumblr so got major inspiration for how I'll share this fic here and for also jumpstarting my infatuation with Elliott Marston because I was only looking at Hans Gruber gifs on her blog while she was posting Elliott Marston gifs and once I saw Alan Rickman in an all black cowboy outfit I knew it was over for me.

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

You already knew that from the moment you had first set foot into Australia that you hated it. The journey of crossing a vast amount of ocean with your family cramped into a ship containing at least fifty other passengers, one third of which were seasick, was not pleasant to begin with. Arriving in a climate you had rarely experienced before made it worse. The month you arrived in the city of Sydney; it was a warm welcome that was very much unwelcome. The air was hot, stifling, and every sense of the word cramping. You weren’t used to this kind of temperature, having lived in mostly cool city regions, and at times traveling to mountain regions that offered year snow. Did Australia even have snow?

Regardless, this would not have been your first place to move to. Or second. Or third. You didn’t even realize Australia existed if you were completely honest. You honestly thought your cousin, or uncle-honestly, you couldn’t remember your relation to the guy anyway- was making it up when he said he lived down here just so he didn’t have to attend family get-togethers. So when you had learned that there was a smaller continent that was right in the middle of the ocean, you were surprised. And scared at the prospect of moving. But you really had no other choice. Your father had come down with a sickness that left him with a coughing fit every single day. You caught the signs early, and the doctor recommended that you all move to a hotter climate as soon as you could, as it would ease the sickness progression, and hopefully, stop it all together. So, whoever your relative meant to you, offered the opportunity for you all to come down here. You found that it worked better, as no other family member lived in a hotter state, and you didn’t want to move to somewhere new where you didn’t know at least one other person. Especially since without the physical illness, your father, admittedly, was not all “there” mentally.

He hardly spoke to others and when he did, he was a man of few words, often which people couldn’t completely understand. He didn’t like being in certain areas and was really only comfortable with a small handful of people. He couldn’t do certain tasks but the ones he could do, he excelled at. But not many people found his skills useful. So, often, your mom would have to take care of him beforehand. Now the time and care she put in helping him went double time once he got ill. It would give her extra comfort to know that she had a relative she could reach by in time while being in the optimal location for his health.

So, whatever your personal feelings were the moment you stepped onto Australia, being far away from a place of familiarity, you had to hold it down for your family’s sake. You could adjust to a strange land.

And to Sydney’s credit, you were surprised, but comforted to see that there were building structures resembling the ones you grew up in, with there even being forests that were distant but visible to the naked eye. From what other passengers had been describing, the picture painted in your head about Australia was mostly a desert region, territory with which you were unfamiliar. So, at the very least, it seemed like you could make this work. So long as you found a job or two that allowed you to be indoors most of the time, you’d be fine.

And that’s how it was going, fine. You got a decent place to stay, worked jobs that allowed you to be away from the heat and come back home before nightfall to help your mom prep dinner and take care of your dad, and let the darkness from outside make your already cool room even cooler. As far as work went, it was much like the other times you worked, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. You could get used to this routine.

But it hadn’t even been six months since your arrival and you, and your family were already starting to have financial troubles again. It was like this before, with the family struggling to make ends meet. But at the very least, sometimes the different workforces you worked at would be charitable and allow your dad to work to some capacity, so long as you or your mom were around to help keep an eye on him. That was before he got physically ill. Sure, you could see improvements now that you were all here, but he still wasn’t well enough to work. So, it was just you to be the one to provide for the family. But the jobs that you did have were not enough.

As luck had it, that extended uncle-cousin had the opportunity to help you and your family out again. He knew someone who owned a ranch, who needed both a ranch hand and a way to repay back your family member. So, he brought you up, as you had prior experience of working at ranches and on farms. Both of those jobs were short periods in your life, but you excelled in them well. It was a deal that would work out for them both in the long run.

The catch was that it was in the Northern Territory of Australia, within what they called the “outback” region. That would mean you needed to move up nearby or live within the ranch for convenience’s sake. With your dad still only just barely getting better, and your mom still needing to take care of him, all of you couldn’t move up there easily. But it was a higher paying job that would have benefited you. Even if you hated how hot it was here now, you’d do the work in order to make sure your family was comfortable. You told your extended relative that you would take the job, so long as the ranch owner would accommodate by sending the majority of the money down to your parents. It would allow them time to build up the funds, and for your dad to get better, to move up there safely and in their own time. Once he got it squared away, you made the journey.

Traveling through the desert region made you realize how you took Sydney for granted. The colder months had just started to wear off, and the farther you went up north, the hotter it got. You did your best by staying inside the wagon whenever possible, as it had a covering over it. But that still wouldn’t stop the dirt and sand getting inside of the wagon. The sounds of wild animals would bother you more than it did your relative, he was used to it as he carried a gun around like it was an extension of himself. It was a bit unnerving for you, with not having much experience in weaponry.

Every night before you went to bed you had to remind yourself who you were doing this for, and just hoped the ranch owner was charitable in allowing time for you to take breaks when needed.

He was anything but.

After traveling for a few days and arriving at the ranch, the owner, named Elliott Marston, wasted no time in putting you to work shortly after your introductions. This initial interaction already set you off on the wrong foot with him. You could already tell this man was someone to not go against in any capacity. Your general tasks ranged from actual ranch hand work, such as taking care of the livestock, fixing the fences, emptying out the wagons when they made their supply runs, things like that.

But then Marston and his other men would have you perform menial tasks that would make you think they could easily do it themselves. It was particularly annoying when the men would criticize you or when Marston would watch you from his house, which he did from time to time. You didn’t know why. Perhaps the city look was still that much apparent on you, or Australians and Americans had distinct mannerisms that you had no idea about. Especially as some moments when you tried to take a break by dunking your head into a barrel of water, and if Marston and his men were nearby, his men would make a joke about how you weren’t accustomed to the heat.

These things, you could hold your tongue for. Menial tasks, the mockery, you could withstand that if it meant you got good pay. Which you did. But the longer you stayed there the quicker you realized how much his men were more focused on practicing their shooting, hooting and hollering with the ladies they brought back, and going after and attacking the Aboriginal people, you realized how much harder this was going to be. You didn’t care for any of that, especially towards the disrespect to the Aboriginals. In America, the tribes you encountered were the only group to show more respect for your fathers’ mental issues, unlike those in the big cities. You could see similarities as you learned more about them and who they were on the land. Seeing them treated like that, it would make your skin boil more than when the sun boiled your skin.

Still, it wasn’t something that you could just say that you went directly against without putting your job at risk. It killed you, knowing that you were trading your morals for money. But you just had to rationalize to yourself that it wouldn’t be much longer. Writing to your mom as often as you could, you just hoped that they could save enough that they could just downgrade somewhere in Australia, or maybe you could convince your relative to take you all into his house. So long as you could find a way where you didn’t have to work at the Marston Ranch while leaving amicably for the sake of your relatives’ connection, you would hold your tongue.

And you tried. You really tried. But as the hotter months progressed with barely any break time, besides sleeping in the lodge provided to the workers, and with the right set of words thrown at you to get you going, you couldn’t do that anymore.

Despite it still being within springtime, Australia never got any cooler for you. It was getting late in the afternoon one day as you were moving hay bales for the horses to eat when you overheard one of the men talking. You did your best to tune them out whenever they weren’t directly talking to you or giving you orders. But this topic of discussion revolved around the two Aboriginal women that they had on the ranch. Both of whom were still very much within earshot of what the men were saying. They threw various insults about them like they weren’t there, but knowing full well that they were.

It brought you back to the times that you brought your father to work with you at your jobs, and how the rest of the workers would say hurtful things about him, right to his face, and laugh. They did it under the assumption that he wouldn’t know what they were saying. But you could tell, in a way that he did. And even if he didn’t, you did. And that was enough to send words, and if necessary, fists right to them.

So, with the added heat from the sun to fuel your decision to finally shut them up, you looked over to them and called out as you were setting down the last haybale.

“Would you quit going on about them? They’ve done nothing to you.”

The men, and the two women perked up at you. The women’s faces were unreadable; however, the men made their feelings very clear.

“Keep workin’, this conversation’s got nothing to do with you.” One of the men, Coogan if you recalled correctly, tried to wave you off.

“With how loud and obnoxious your voice is I’m forced to be part of the conversation.” Your rebuttal back to him was, as you looked back to the hay bales.

He stood up more properly, as if to try to seem more imposing, despite still being a good amount of feet away from you.

“You think being from the big city gives you the right to talk to me like that?”

You rolled your eyes as you walked away from the stables. “No, but it’s given me the displeasure of knowing that no matter what country I’m in, there’s still the same kind of stupidity that’ll set us back to the stone age. And I’m not going to be silent about it.”

The other men started to clamor as they could sense it was starting to get heated, at least from Coogan’s side. You were just planning to rest up in the lodge, thinking that he was just going to wave you off again, when his next words set off the simmering coals that were in you into a roaring fire.

“Well, it’s clear your mom didn’t teach you some manners. Because she would’ve been busy takin’ care of your dad. And we know he’s too slow to teach you anything!”

The clamoring among the men grew louder, but all you could hear was the ringing in your ears as you stopped in your tracks and looked him dead in the eye. You had heard them whisper among each other about your reasoning for being here when you first started working. But this was the first time they had directly made fun of your family.

It was going to be the last.

One fistfight later, that ended up with a set of stitches and a black eye for a Coogan, and a badly bruised rib cage and bruised cheek to you, you already began to pack your things from the lodge. You figured that you might as well wait beside the trees that were closer to the ranch entrance. Elliott Marston hadn’t been there due to some sort of business he needed to attend to with Major Ashley-Pitt a few days prior. If he had you would’ve likely experienced the consequences sooner. However, he was expected to come back later that evening. And you were expecting that once he did, the men would pull a primary school move and tell on you, and at best, you would be fired and either have to leave right then or in the morning. At worst… Well, you didn’t think about that or how Elliott Marston always had his pistol on his hip and how quickly he drew his gun on deserters.

Sure enough, he came back riding on his horse when the sun was just starting to set. He took note of you sitting by the tree, with your arms crossed as you looked ahead, only to give him the briefest acknowledgement by turning to face him slightly. Surely, he saw your bruised up face, but he didn’t comment on it, his expression unreadable. Which, that’s how it always was when he stared at you for no good reason. You continued back with staring ahead. As he got off his horse and went into his home, you could already hear the few footsteps of his men, with Coogan calling out to him.

You couldn’t hear what they were saying but you huffed in annoyance anyway. More so at yourself at this point.

You wanted to be a provider for your family. But this was taking a toll on you. You knew on a deeper level, if you explained the situation to your family, they’d be happy that you stood on your morals and got out of there when things weren’t going well. However, your mom particularly didn’t want you to get taken over by your pride for yourself and your family. Especially when it could have easily gotten you killed. It’s clear those men weren’t didn’t have to use guns to protect themselves. Though you were sure if she saw the state of your face now, she’d do everything she could to make sure those men weren’t standing either.

You laughed a bit. If she got her hands on them the men would get a glimpse on what your mom did teach you and that you went easy on Coogan.

Then there was the issue of money. You had initially figured that it would be quite easy to find another job if you left this one. But that was on the assumption you left on good terms. With how influential Elliott Marston seemed to be, especially with his connections to the army, it was possible that word of mouth would spread. And the influence would decrease your chances of getting hired by others within the area.

You sighed, rubbing your eyes, which caused you to flinch at the pressure of the bruised side of your face. You flopped your hands down and bumped your head back against the tree. Which unsurprisingly also didn’t help with the apparent pain in your head that was growing all together. You were about to close your eyes and wait for the inevitability of being let go either tonight or first thing in the morning when you stopped yourself. Through the leaves of the tree, you could still see the night sky, and the brilliant number of stars that were beginning to show.

You got up, wincing as you maneuvered to pick up your bag, and walked further out over to a crate that was close by the fence. You positioned it so that you were sitting on the crate but resting your arms on one of the wooden planks. As you looked up, a few things suddenly dawned on you.

First, you have rarely ever looked up at the night sky here in Australia. Second, you have rarely been outside at night during your whole time here in Australia, besides the occasional bathroom break. And third…

The Australian night sky was breathtakingly beautiful.

You didn’t think you'd ever seen this many stars in your life. Back home, the city night sky, when you looked up at it, hardly showed any indication of stars. It was always dark, looming and glooming over you. It felt miserable to look at, so you never did. But tonight, here in the desert, the amount of stars and the big bright moon casting the area in a calming deep blue hue that made it bright enough to still see everything was nothing like you had seen before. You didn’t feel dread when looking up at it like you had in the city before. There was something to it that made you feel a sense of calmness that you hadn’t experienced in a long while.

It was peaceful.

The serenity of the scattered stars shining over you was short-lived. You could hear precise footsteps from behind walking over to you. You exhaled through your nose in annoyance, already preparing yourself mentally for the chewing out you were likely going to get. You still stared ahead, but in your peripheral vision you saw Elliott Marston come up to your left and lean his own arms against the fence, still dressed in that all black attire that he typically wore.

You don’t even know how he was able to do that with how intensely hot it got during the day. At night you could see how the outfit could work for him, blending into the shadows. But during the day he stuck out like a sore thumb amongst his men.

“Seems you and Coogan had a quarrel.” He said in a strangely calm voice, looking down at you.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at his tone. He always had this sense of superiority that was more than just being someone’s boss when he talked to others. It was like he viewed himself as better than everyone else in the room. You hated it. You figured that’s why he wore all black, just so he could stand out among the rest. He could surely hear you scoff at him, with how quiet it was, and could surely see you roll your eyes at him, given that he was standing above you while you were still sitting down and could see your face clearly. But once again, he didn’t comment on your reaction directly and continued.

“I don’t appreciate fighting among my workers, nothing gets done once they do.”

“And I don’t appreciate the disrespect he showed to my parents,” A quick brief pause, before you decided to add the last part, “And to the Aboriginals.” You figured that since you were already in the shit, you might as well go further into it.

You could tell he cocked his head at you as you still stared straight ahead.

“I could understand defending your parents honor, but to defend such an uncivilized kind of-”

You cut him off, finally looking up at him. “You think you’re any better than them?”

For a split moment, the unreadable stare he normally had finally had an expression to tie it down to, that being shock. He really must’ve not been expecting you to say something to him. Maybe he figured that you would turn yellow and try to smooth the situation out for your sake. He was wrong. The emotion was there for only a moment as he composed himself to get back into his usual stare. But you could tell that the gears in his head were turning much like a clock. As if he was trying to convince himself that you didn’t say what you just said to him.

“They’ve come and ruined our crops and livestock, something that keeps us fed and workers a job, which includes you mind you.” He said in an even calmer tone of voice. Like he was restraining himself. Like he was giving you another out to take back what you said and learn to respect what he was saying.

But it didn’t. And you had no problem in not restraining yourself.

“And you don’t think for a second that maybe it’s because of what you’re doing to them? They’ll easily make trades with those in the other towns as I’ve heard, with no issues whatsoever. No bloodshed from either group. Meanwhile, you and your men hold hunting parties when they travel through the desert, to get away from you, mind you.”

He seemed like he was going to rebuttal that statement, but you weren’t done.

“I hear you talk about how you’re a student for other countries like America. Wearing your intelligence like it’s a badge. But if you can’t see how your ruthless acts are on par to what you claim the Aboriginals are doing to you, then you mustn’t be a good one.”

You looked back up to the stars.

“You’re no better than any of them.”

You were certain that your chances of getting fired were increased by the max right now. And if there was initially no chance of him taking more drastic measures, such as leaving you to die in Australia, the chances were increased now. But you couldn’t keep your opinions to yourself any longer. You respected yourself too much for that. Even now, when you could feel his intense gaze burning into you, you weren’t going to beg for his mercy.

The few moments of silence were so heavy and filled with tension, only being broken by the night sounds and distant barking of a dingo, or coyote, you still couldn’t tell the difference. You were just waiting for the moment that he would break it by whatever reaction he saw fit.

But the reaction you got wasn’t what you expected.

“You don’t know me well enough to make that judgement.”

You were about to counter that statement when what he said right after stopped you.

“But I suppose the same could be said about me to you.”

You didn’t understand what he meant by that. And why he said it in a much softer and more thoughtful tone than how he was originally speaking. But you didn’t have time to ponder that as he added more to your confusion.

“I’m a man of my word. I intended to uphold the deal between your cousin and I.”

Well at least your relatives’ identity got squared away, though you were certain he was old enough to be your uncle.

But that wasn’t important right now. You were still trying to figure out how he was even allowing you to breathe at this point.

You waited to hear if he would then explain the consequence for speaking and acting like that towards his men and especially to him. But a moment passed, and he still didn’t say anything. He kept staring out to where you were looking at, which was right at the stars. Getting lost into them just as much as you had been a moment prior.

You were about to bite the bullet and ask him what the catch was to still being employed to him, but he got up from where he was standing and began to walk back. As he walked, he spoke in that calm yet full of that superiority tone of voice he normally had.

“That fence is not stable. Unless you plan on working with a lantern, I expect you to be working on it early in the morning.”

You just looked at him as he continued walking away, dumbfounded. That task was like the other tasks he had given you before. So, it wasn’t like he was going to work you to death. Unless he had that planned for later. But if he was truly a man of his word then he was still going to keep the deal going. You could only assume that this meant he wasn’t going to decrease the pay. Surely if he did, he would know that you would write to your cousin about it, leading to more complications between the two.

So, what was it. What was the catch that he had planned.

You weren’t sure, and you knew it would be best to keep your guard up for the coming days. But for now… you looked back up to the stars one more time. You could tell that the calmness that they brought will be helpful to get you through whatever was going to happen within the next, however long you were employed here.

You took comfort in knowing that the stars would be there when the catch came.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Ace Trappola - Playful Dress Vignette

"I can take my chances as they come"

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Ace's Room]

Ace: UGHHHHHH～～～ THAT PISSED ME OFF!!

Ace: I thought Riddle-ryōchō had gotten a bit more lenient, but obviously not.

Ace: "A student's main duty is his schoolwork! To abandon that is completely inexcusable!"

Ace: …Can't believe he'd say something like that, he's more stubborn than anything!

Ace: Man, after I got all excited with planning the outing. Thanks to someone it all went sour.

Deuce: When you say someone… Are you talking about me?

Ace: Who else? What kind of complete bonehead goes and snitches to the Housewarden like that?

Deuce: But- but, we're supposed to tell either the Housewarden or a Professor if we have to be absent…

Deuce: And besides, now that you mention it, it's definitely not a good thing to skip class.

Ace: What do you mean, "now that you mention it"…? Did you think up 'til getting yelled at by the Housewarden that skipping class was okay!?

Ace: So that's, why you just ran to the Housewarden so brazenly… Ugh.

Ace: Why'd I even try to invite someone this stupid in the first place…?

Deuce: WHAT DO YOU MEAN, STUPID!?

Deuce: Ah!! …Not very honor student of me to shout like that. …I'm gonna go cool off outside.

[door clicks open… slams shut]

Ace: Wh… What's with that guy, why's he the one getting upset!? That really grinds my gears.

Ace: Ughh, I can't deal with this anymore. I gotta finish packing before he gets back.

Ace: I have my phone charger, tissues, breath mints…

Ace: And I guess… I don't need my wallet. They said it's all free, so.

Ace: Last but not least, I definitely can't forget my Playful Land ticket!

Ace: …This should be enough. If I bring too much stuff, it'll just get in the way when I'm trying to have fun.

Ace: All that's left to do is to wake up before the sun rises and get to where we're all meeting, but…

Ace: Now that the Housewarden knows that I'm planning on skipping class, he'll definitely be on the lookout.

Ace: I thought it'd be pretty easy to slip out if I had spent the night at Ramshackle…

Ace: But if I do anything stupid now, it'll be off with all our heads, even [Yuu] and Grim's.

Ace: I already told [Yuu] and Grim not to invite anyone… I can't be the one to screw this up.

Ace: I've finished packing for tomorrow, so… Guess I'll check out possible escape routes!

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Hallway]

Heartslabyul Student A: Hey man, did you hear? Sounds like the Housewarden's in a rage because of Ace.

Heartslabyul Student B: Again～? That first year never learns, huh. So, what's it about this time?

Heartslabyul Student C: I mean… I don't really know all the details. But let's make sure not to set him off any further…

[rabble, rabble]

Ace: Looks like my upperclassmen heard what happened. At least they don't know about Playful Land…

Ace: I bet there'd be a few guys that would turn me in on a dime just to save their own skin, too.

Ace: It'd be bad if they see I'm missing in the morning, so I think I'll treat my roommates to some juice to keep them quiet.

Ace: Man… It's not something I usually notice, but it looks like a bunch of the guys in the dorm use this corridor a lot.

Ace: There's a slim chance that someone might wake up early and see me, so… I guess I'll try to find another route.

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Kitchen]

Ace: Hmmm. Looks like the kitchen doesn’t get much traffic…

Ace: Nice. Looks like this is the best way out!

Ace: If I go outside from that door there… I don't think anyone will notice right?

Ace: It's just dumb just following orders because the Housewarden said no, or just letting him chew me out just for skipping one day of class.

Ace: I ain't a blockhead like some people. I'm way better.

Ace: There's no point to anything if you miss out just 'cause you're trying to follow the rules. I'm gonna make sure I can take my chances as they come.

[Playful Land - Catch The Star]

―After the Playful Stage Show

Fellow: See now, it's on the horizon: the ride that Grim-kun has been so excited for!!

Grim: MYAH!? WHERE IS IT WHERE IS IT!? I WANNA RIDE IT ALREADY!!

Vil: Even after all that dancing in the show… This little potato is still rife with energy.

Ace: Huh, you tired already, Vil-senpai?

Vil: Who do you think you're talking to? Seems to me like this little potato has no manners.

Ace: It's not as bad as Expedition Whale, but looks like it's pretty popular regardless. There's a really long line.

Jack: Hm…? But that's…

Grim: Yo, Fellow. I said I wanted to ride on a trapeze swing.

1. This is a bit different… 2. Rather than a swing, it looks more like an umbrella

Fellow: Oh no, this is it, without a doubt. This is our very popular attraction, The "Parasol Swing."

Ace: The swing portion looks like an umbrella, but it's definitely flying through the sky. But why's it shaped like an umbrella?

Jack: Wasn't there that one scene in Wish Upon a Star where the wooden puppet's teacher hung onto a carriage with an umbrella?

Jack: In the book I read, that teacher was a cricket with enough guts to weather both the swaying of the carriage and the dust it kicked up.

Fellow: What vast knowledge you possess! Did you hear, Gidel, his quick and easy explanation!

Gidel: … [nods]

Vil: Ah yes, I do recall seeing some gentlemanly-looking cricket plushes in the shop.

Vil: That must have been the wooden puppet's teacher you mentioned.

Jack: Huh, so they had some plushes of the wooden puppet's teacher? My younger brother and sister both read the book too, so maybe that'd be a good souvenir for them.

Ace: Cool. They got plushes of the cricket from Wish Upon a Star here too, huh～

1. I'm curious what kind of cricket it is. 2. I want to see the plushes.

Ace: Same. Looks like we still got time before it's our turn, so let's go check it out.

Jack: What do you mean, check it out…? If we jump out of line, we'll lose our spot.

Ace: Well yeah, that's if we all go… But as long as one person stays in line, we should be fine, right?

Ace: Soooo… Please and thank you, Vil-senpai! Can you hold the line for us!?

Jack: What!?  You're seriously just asking an upperclassman to wait in line for you?

Ace: But like, Vil-senpai sounded like he was tired after that stage show.

Ace: We're still at the back of the line, and it's pretty shady here, so you won't have to worry about sunburn, and it looks like the flower beds have a lip that you can sit on, too…

Ace: Looks like it's the perfect place to take a break, don'tcha think? I'll make sure to grab you something to drink while we go check out the shops, too!

Fellow: Fahaha! What a thoughtful little student.

Vil: You really are a smooth-talker.

Vil: You're quick on your feet only in specific situations, or rather, you don't show your hand. It's good that you follow your convictions, but…

Vil: Although Trey followed after you in the end, the fact that you still went to slip out of your dorm even after Riddle was on high alert shows just how duplicitous you are.

Vil: I'm so thankful that Pomefiore didn't get anyone as rambunctious as you.

[Playful Land – Gentle Square]

Grim: That trapeze swing was so fuuun～!

Ace: Yeah, it was a little more thrilling than it looked. And we were able to figure out why it looked like umbrellas by checking out the shop beforehand, too, so that was good.

Ace: Jack and Vil-senpai went off to look at something else, so what should we do?

Grim: Hey, that's the Friendly Fox and the Gentle Cat over there!

Ace: Oh, you're right. They didn't show up to the stage show earlier, so I thought they didn't have live mascots here.

1. I want to see them up close! 2. I want to take a picture with them.

Ace: Ehhh～ Seriously? I got no interest in that whatsoever. You don't care about mascots either, right, Grim?

Grim: I read somewhere that when ya come to an amusement park, ya gotta take a picture with the mascots! I'll do it too!

Ace: Pass. I'm gonna go get in line for the roller coaster again. You guys can do it yourselves.

Guest A: I never thought I'd be able to take a picture with the Friendly Fox and Gentle Cat. This'll make a great memory.

Guest B: Hey, let's upload it to Magicam right away. It's proof that we came to Playful Land!

Ace: Hold on, wait a moment…

Ace: It might be better to upload a picture with those specific mascots to brag to everyone about how I got to come to this amusement park!

1. So that means… 2. Does that mean…?

Ace: Change of plans. It won't take too long to just take one photo, so let's get to it.

Ace: Woah, the Fox and Cat are coming our way. Eh!?

Friendly Fox: ～♪

Ace: Why's he spreading his arms out wide…? Feels like he's tryin' to be real welcoming.

Gentle Cat: !!

Ace: He's pointing at us, shaking his hips, and swinging his arms left and right… Ah.

Ace: Wait, did you see the stage show earlier? You tryin' to let us know how good we did?

Grim: The Fox and Cat are both nodding their heads. Guess they got an eye for awesomeness!

Ace: Looks like. Up close, this Fox's got real round eyes. He's got a super sincere face, like he could never tell a lie.

Ace: The Cat's real fluffy looking and is constantly smiling. He looks completely harmless and kind.

Ace: Basically, both look like real cool dudes!

Ace: …Hm? Now the Fox and Cat are dancing.

Grim: Oh hey, that's the dance we did earlier on the Playful Stage! Rave-up, up, dum-dee-dum… ♪

Ace: Those too look happy now that Grim started dancing, now… What, they want us to do it too!?

1. Rave-up! Up! ♪ 2. That's a little embarrassing…

Puppet: Dear Guests, You Look Spectacular! I'll Take A Picture Of You In A Rave-Up Pose!

Ace: Hrrrm, at this point, it'd be lame to act embarrassed, so… Guess I just gotta strike that pose, then.

Ace: Mmkay, can you take a pic with my phone?

Puppet: Understood, I Shall Take Your Phone. Alright, Everyone, Strike A Pose… Here We Go. Say Cheese!

[Playful Land – Bazaar]

Ace: WHEW, WE'RE FINALLY ALMOST AT SAGE'S ISLAND～!

Ace: Playful Land's exploding everywhere, and I've been hearing a lot of super sketch noises for a while now…

Ace: But at this rate, we should be able to make it to Crane Port somehow, right?

Ace: Even a boring island like this feels like a sight for sore eyes after a terrifying ordeal like that.

Trey: Seriously, yeah. We're all back home safe thanks to you guys, Ace.

Cater: Yup, yup. Although guess it's a bit uncool of Cay-kun to have to be saves by our juniors～

Ace: Heheh. But c'mon, the only reason we were even able to last that long is all thanks to you guys～

Ace: Oh, yeah. Get a load of this, guys. Something amazing happened a bit ago…

Ace: I even got some praise from Leona-senpai.

Trey: From Leona? Wow, that's unbelievable. Never thought I'd see the say where he'd praise someone so sincerely.

Ace: Right!? Well, I'm a little hesitant to say his praise was sincere, but…

Ace: When I told him how I magically tossed my foxtail souvenir so the puppets would go after it,

Ace: He said… "Sounds like those puppets were more like puppies, huh. How kind of you to toss 'em a bone."

Ace: That's basically his way of showing appreciation, right? …But now that I'm putting it in words, I'm starting to doubt it.

Cater: Yeah, yeah, I totes think he was praising you ☆ You got Floyd-kun saying good things about you, too.

Ace: Huh, Floyd-senpai!?

Trey: Yeah, he said something like… "I didn't have a lick of hope in 'em, but they actually took much longer to get turned into puppets than I thought."

Ace: That doesn't sound like praise to me at all? But I guess that's better than him saying he'd squeeze me…

Ace: Uh, so～ There's something I want to ask…

Ace: If we told him about how I totally had a hand in helping dismantle the evil Playful Land…

Ace: Do you think even Riddle-ryōchō would praise me and say I did a good job…?

Trey/Cater: Nope. / No way.

Ace: Tch, didn't think that'd work.

Trey: Maybe if we had been able to get back before dark, we would have been able to figure out some kid of excuse, but…

Trey: We've been gone pretty much all the night without any kind of notice. I can definitely already see Riddle's face red with rage.

Cater: Yup. I think we all gotta make sure to prepare for the worst…

Ace: Siiigh… I'm way too exhausted from putting in all that work, so it's gonna be a pain to deal with the Housewarden's anger, too...

???: How can you sound so miserable when we're finally able to make it back to campus?

Ace: Ah, Vil-senpai! Did you come here to praise me, too?

Vil: Absolutely not. It looked like the silver-tongued Ace might actually be in distress, so I came to impart some advice.

Ace: Wait, does that mean… You know some way to calm Riddle-ryōchō down!? Please, tell me!

Vil: It's nothing too difficult. The proper solution in these sorts of situations is to…

Vil: FACE HIM STRAIGHT ON AND APOLOGIZE EARNESTLY!

Vil: Your penchant for making excuses will only irritate Riddle further.

Vil: The best way to receive his forgiveness is to take his ire directly.

Ace: EEEHH!?

Trey: True, Ace has a quick wit and is pretty clever… But I'm pretty sure our best bet this time would be to be honestly apologetic.

Cater: I bet Riddle-kun was super worried about us too～ When we get back, we should all three of us apologize to him together.

Vil: See, third years are fully capable of understanding. Ace, you should also gracefully accept defeat.

Ace: NO WAAAY～!

Trey: When you deflate like that, it's like all that energy you were bouncing around with since last night was a mirage or something.

Ace: Urgh… But we went through so much. I ain't gonna let it end on a sour note.

Ace: If that's the case, then I'm gonna totally brag about how much fun I had on the attractions and on the stage!

Cater: Ace-chan is really...

Trey: Yeah, he really is stubborn.

Requested by Anonymous.