#i hope everything looks nice and all works

[hyeinette]

☘︎ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ 𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝒂𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏─────𝗍𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖻𝖻𝗈𝗋𝗇 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑛 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗌 𝖺 𝖿𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋.

𝗳!𝗿 ⠀⠀🗝️ ⠀⠀𝑓. est rl kisses fluff psh drabble ─── 11OO >ᴗ< 𓈒 𓈒 亲

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝑙𝑖𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑟𝑦 ⠀⠀⠀୨୧ ⠀⠀⠀𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀⠀〝⠀ 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄

the air was warm. everything felt warm to sunghoon right now, really. his head, his body, his heart… well, the last one couldn’t really be blamed on the sweltering fever that currently had him bedridden. it was because you were here, in his kitchen, making him chicken soup. the thought that you came for him made him smile despite himself.

then, as if his throbbing forehead had pulled him away from his blissful thoughts of you, sunghoon groaned, pressing the heel of his hand against his blazing skin. the sound of his pained voice made you put down the ladle and peek over your shoulder, glancing at sunghoon, who looked like a cat, sprawled over the couch on his stomach, a sight that made you giggle.

sunghoon thrashed around with discomfort, hoping that if he acted pathetic enough, you’d hurry it up. “babyyy.”

somehow, it seemed to work, because next thing he knew, the floral smell of your lavender perfume wafted through the air and into his (very congested) nostrils. sunghoon abruptly lifted his head towards the source of the scent, feeling straight away relieved at the sight of you holding a soup bowl, looking unfairly pretty under the sun’s eventide glow.

sunghoon huffed and sat up, or tried to; the second he pushed himself off the couch, he winced. he couldn’t even complain before you were by his side, propping him up on one too many pillows. the cool, gentleness of your fingers on his shoulder was a nice contrast, and he found himself leaning towards your arms.

“you’re burning up,” you murmured worriedly.

sunghoon lifted his head to meet your concerned eyes. his chest tightened at the way your eyebrows knitted together and your lashes fluttered as your gaze travelled his reddened face.

“i’m fine, really.” both of you knew he was lying.

something about being cared for made sunghoon feel oddly guilty, like he didn’t deserve your ministrations.

“hoon, you are not fine. don’t be stubborn.” you scolded in the softest way you could.

he wanted to protest, to tell you he was fine, that all he needed was—

“all i need is a kiss from you,” he rasped.

you rolled your eyes, but still had to bite the insides of your cheek to stop a smile from appearing. unfortunately, the blush gave you away, making sunghoon chuckle (which quickly turned into a cough.)

“you sound delirious,” you teased, pushing a few strands of dark hair away from sunghoon’s damp skin.

finally, sunghoon relented, falling into the couch while watching you pick up the bowl of soup and sit as close as possible without being on top of him.

you blew on the soup and then nudged his lips with it, as if daring him to refuse. sunghoon had a certain glint in his eyes, like he wanted to be difficult, just so he could see that small blush creep up your neck and hear you reprimand him. but he resisted, for your sake.

he opened his mouth and the soup soothed the scratch in his throat quickly.

“there,” you smiled, satisfied. “not so bad, hm?”

all sunghoon could manage was a hum in response. he wanted to tell you that it wasn’t bad at all, but he didn’t trust his voice currently; it would probably sound like a dying frog, or something, and you’d probably laugh at him.

this pattern continued for a while: you feeding sunghoon, him holding back from kissing you senseless every five seconds. after he’d managed around half the bowl, you set it aside and picked up a thermometer, deciding to check his temperature.

you furrowed your brows and fumbled with the instrument. after finally getting it to work, you turned back to sunghoon, whose eyes haven’t left you. you moved closer to him, to the point that you were hovering over his body.

sunghoon’s half-lidded eyes met your wide ones, which made not only your breath but your heart hitch, as well.

“yn,” sunghoon muttered earnestly, placing his hands on your waist in an almost tentative manner. before he could overthink it, he found that his arms were completely enveloping your torso and pulling you down into you. you gasped, the thermometer slipping as your hands found purchase on his shoulders.

his head rested against your stomach, and the moment your warmth met his skin, he felt himself being grounded by just the feel of you.

“yeah?”

“i hate being sick.” his voice was muffled but truthful.

you giggled, running your hands through his hair and twirling it through your fingers, for it was very soft. “i know, love. at least you’re a very cute sick person?”

sunghoon grumbled, the sensation vibrating through your chest. despite feeling embarrassed, sunghoon didn’t let go, not when you in his arms felt like the only right thing in the world at this moment.

“how can you say that when i’m dying here…” he complained, pulling you completely onto his lap now, so that you were sitting sideways facing him.

“you’re not dying,” you placed a kiss against his forehead and playfully booped his nose, making him scrunch it and then push your hand away, only to entwine his fingers with yours a moment later. “you’re dramatic, is all.”

sunghoon hesitantly flickered his gaze to your lips and swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how close you were to him. he felt himself burning up all over again, though this time not because of the fever.

“i like when you take care of me,” he admitted, making you tense for a second, before quickly relaxing.

“it’s a good thing i like taking care of you, then.” you smiled, tilting his head up and gently placing your forehead on his.

sunghoon shut his eyes for just a minute, wanting to revel in your tender embrace forever. before he could think, he felt your soft lips against his, smiling.

after a few seconds, you pulled away, giggling at the way his lips chased yours just slightly.

“you should sleep now. i’ll be here when you wake up.” you promised, slipping out his grasp slowly.

content with your words, sunghoon let his body slip into the couch while you threw a warm blanket over him.

sunghoon felt his breathing even out as he slowly fell asleep, with the only thing on his mind being you. with a smile on his face, he decided that if being sick meant he’d have your undivided attention, he didn’t mind it so much.

𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝓈𝗍. @bywons @sugarikiz

[l1tw1ck]

Sponsored by Stark

Dom!Bottom!Tony x Sub!Top!Masc Virgin Reader

☆ Word Count: 1,358 ☆

AFAB Language Used | Event Request

CW: Dubious Consent, Age Difference, Daddy Kink, Overstimulation, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Semi-Public Sex,

After retiring from hero work, Tony opened up an academy to teach hopeful heroes, tech lovers, and future entrepreneurs. The academy teaches students starting from age 14 and above. It's a combination of high school and college. There are a lot of campuses all over New York. You finished high school in Midtown High and applied to join the academy. Tony loved your application so much that he awarded you with a special scholarship. It’s only granted to one person every four years. After your first meeting with him, he offered to buy you dinner. You didn't think it was strange. Why would it be?

You look up at Tony with an anxiety filled and hesitantly lustful gaze. He came onto you during dinner and you were afraid you’d lose your scholarship if you denied him. You were also afraid you'd seriously regret giving up the chance to fuck him. So now you're staring at his pussy as he grinds down on your clothed cock. His t-dick is poking out of his bush of hair and the sight makes you worry you’ll come too early.

“Don't worry about getting a job anymore. I’ll pay for everything you need.” He rolls his head back. “Gonna get you a credit card..use it whenever.”

You feel more like a prostitute than a scholarship student.

“Fuck…ever been with an older guy before?” He asks. You can't deny that he looks so fucking sexy like this. The way he's rubbing his pussy on your boner is definitely helping you forget why you were nervous in the first place. Your underwear is drenched with his slick. It's undeniably hot.

“Never…with anyone.”

“Yeah?” He breathes out. “Good. I’ll take the lead.” He stops and leans into your neck, sloppily kissing it and as he removes your boxers. He moves away from your face and leans his body closer to your cock. He points at the part of his stomach where the tip of your cock is. “That's how deep you’ll be inside me.”

He grips your shoulders and hovers over your cock. You gulp. He sinks himself down onto your length, a confident smirk plastered on his face.

“I haven’t done it in so long–” He moans as you completely fill him up, his back arched. He rolls his hips and strokes his t-dick. Seeing a guy like him use you like a toy is too hot for your own good. You never knew you were into this kind of thing. You could probably come just like this. You’ll try not to though, it wouldn't turn out well if you got him pregnant. “You want me to move, baby?”

“I…I wanna see you come first.”

“If that's what you want.” He strokes himself harder. Your heart is racing. You can feel it as he reaches his peak. His cunt is giving you nice, wet hugs. He rolls his head back, his pussy seizing its movements for a moment before resuming. He squirts, his slick covering your face. You lick your lips. You’ve been able to stop yourself from coming this whole time but you're not sure how much longer you’ll last.

He grinds down on you and moves his hand away from his sensitive cock. After a while, he eventually starts riding you. You don't think you’ll be able to last.

“Wa- wait- wait—” You panic. “I’m- I think–”

“It's okay, sweetheart.” He keeps bouncing. “I can't get pregnant.”

You would let out a long sigh of relief if it weren't for your sudden orgasm. You bite down on your lip as he keeps going despite that. It feels good and insanely overwhelming. You can't believe you just came inside Tony fucking Stark. “‘s too- too much-” You moan.

“I’m not satisfied yet. You’ll let Daddy keep bouncing on your cock, won't you, baby?”

You nod. “Ye- yes-”

“Good boy~” He lets out a satisfied sigh. “Letting Daddy use you like a cute little toy.” He loves the way your body is reacting. You're so inexperienced and sensitive, he knows he’ll have a lot of fun with you. He’s glad he changed careers. You stare at your cum spilling out with each thrust. It's so erotic you feel like you're gonna pass out.

Tony notices the subject of your gaze. “You like that? How your cum drips out of my pussy? Hm?” He grins. “Wanna keep filling me up, baby?”

You nod rapidly. “Yes- yes, Daddy-”

His body stutters as he comes again. He stops, his walls flexing around your cock again. Tony leans into your ear. “You know what a mating press is?” He asks.

You shudder. “Ye- yeah-” You grab his waist and manage to flip yourselves over. Sweat drips down your forehead as you grab Tony’s thighs. You move him into position and just looking at him like this makes you come again. Your cock starts to soften. “Sorry-”

“‘S okay, baby. It's cute.” He laughs. “We can keep working on your endurance another time.”

You walk into Tony’s office, wearing an outfit he bought for you. As he stands up, you notice his belt is unbuckled and his pants are unzipped. He leans against the wall and you instantly make your way over to him.

“I’ve been waiting for you all day.” His hands slither onto your shoulders, his soft lips graze your ear. “I couldn’t stop touching myself. I had to cancel my meeting this afternoon.”

Your breath hitches.

“Are you gonna help me, sweetheart?”

“Yeah-” You watch him pull away from you and remove his pants and underwear. He shows the damp spot in his white boxers to you. You're already hard. He motions for you to kneel, making you feel like a dog. You look at his pussy eagerly, excited to see it up close. You already know what he wants you to do.

You wrap your lips around his t-cock and suck it.

“Yes~ like that, baby-” He shivers. You slip two fingers inside him, one at a time, and try your best to finger him properly. Your mouth on his cock is more than enough to distract him from your noob-ness. He doesn't seem to care about the amount of noise he's making either. Given his personality, you don't feel any anxiety over it. No one would dare enter his office when they hear him. “Fuck, right there~!” His hip thrusts involuntarily. You managed to find his g-spot. You do your best to pleasure him with it and by the sound of his voice and the clenching you feel around your fingers, you know you're doing a good job.

“Yes– yes—!” He squirts. This time you get to really taste him. You slowly move your head back, a line of spit connecting you to his cock, then lap your tongue all over his pussy. Tony twitches with pleasure.

You stop, then look at him like a puppy awaiting orders. He curls his index and middle finger, signifying that he wants you to stand up. He quickly frees your boner from your pants. “I still have one more meeting today.” He takes your wrists and has you hold onto his waist. He mouths ‘hold me’ so you pick him up. “But since you come so fast, I’ll let you fuck me.”

You press your forehead onto his shoulder. “Thank you-” You breathe out, sinking into his cunt. “You- you feel so good, Daddy-” He's sopping wet.

Tony wraps his arms around you as you sloppily thrust inside him. Your desperation turns him on so much.

“Can I- fuck- can I come inside?”

“Mhm~” He hums. “‘M gonna keep it inside. Walk around with your cum in me.”

You shudder, your cock shooting ropes of cum inside him. His laugh is breathless and lustful. “You're too cute.” He smiles as you bring him to his desk, laying him in a way to prevent your cum from spilling out as well as you can. You grab his boxers and slip them onto him.

You watch as he stands up and fixes himself up to look presentable. “I’ll see you tonight.” He winks, leaving the room.

[gf2bellamy]

So you know that one scene where Rossi comes to an briefing session in a tux because the bau got summoned last minute? Could I please request fem!reader coming to an evening meeting all dressed up because she was at a party and didn’t have time to change when she was called? And Spencer is a complete blushing mess because his crush looks so pretty?

distracted — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: reader wearing a dress, mention of nice perfume a/n: thank you for your request !!! i hope you like this <3

The elevator doors slid shut with a soft chime, sealing you in as you let out an exasperated sigh. You glanced down at yourself, smoothing out the fabric of your dress as if that would make it any less noticeable. The deep color clung to your frame in a way your usual work attire never did, the hem brushing just above your knees, heels clicking softly against the floor.

This was not how you had expected your night to go. 

You had been at a party, actually enjoying yourself for once, when your phone buzzed in your clutch. Hotch’s name had flashed across the screen, and just like that, the night had taken a turn.

Now, instead of sipping a drink and making polite small talk, you were about to walk into the BAU’s conference room—filled with your very serious, very observant coworkers—wearing something completely out of character. 

You took a deep breath, squaring your shoulders as the elevator dinged at your floor. It wasn’t a big deal. It was just a dress. It was just your team. It wasn’t like they hadn’t seen you outside of work before. 

But still, the moment you stepped out into the hallway, you found yourself walking a little slower. You reached the door to the conference room and hesitated for only a second before pushing it open. 

The room fell momentarily silent. Then— 

A low whistle. 

“Damn, sweetheart, you clean up nice.” Derek Morgan’s voice was laced with amusement, a slow grin spreading across his face as he leaned back in his chair. 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight back the small, amused smile tugging at your lips. “Don’t get used to it,” you shot back, making your way toward an empty seat. 

Across the table, Spencer Reid had gone very still, his usual rambling tendencies seemingly failing him for once. His gaze flickered over you quickly before he looked away, ears tinged a faint shade of pink. 

Garcia beamed at you, practically bouncing in her seat as she showered you with compliments. “Oh, my God, look at you! I mean, I always knew you were gorgeous, but this? This is next level, honey.” 

You laughed, shaking your head as you took the empty seat beside Spencer. 

He wished you hadn’t. 

It was bad enough seeing you walk through that door, looking like something straight out of a dream. But now, you were close—so close that the faint scent of your perfume drifted toward him, wrapping around his senses like a spell.

Not only did you look like an absolute angel, but you smelled incredible too. His brain, usually brimming with facts and statistics, felt utterly useless. 

He had barely managed to keep his jaw from going slack when you first walked in. Breathtaking didn’t even begin to describe you. Now, as you sat beside him, chatting with Garcia, he could feel the warmth creeping up his neck, spreading to his ears. He prayed no one noticed. 

You were still waiting for Rossi and Emily to arrive, which gave you time to talk and settle in. Meanwhile, Spencer remained frozen, struggling to process anything beyond the fact that you were right there, looking like this, smelling like this, existing like this. 

He was just staring. 

His usual encyclopedic mind—capable of recalling thousands of facts in perfect detail—had never felt this empty before. 

Spencer’s brain was so empty, so utterly useless in this moment, that he failed to notice the way Derek was watching him. Normally, Spencer noticed everything—the smallest change in body language, the slightest shift in someone’s tone—but right now? Right now, all he could focus on was you. 

Derek, on the other hand, was very much aware. 

Leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, Derek observed the entire scene with growing amusement. He had always known Spencer had it bad for you.

The lingering glances, the way he got just a little more awkward when you were around, the way his usually rapid-fire explanations slowed whenever you asked him a question—yeah, Spencer was a goner. 

But this? This was something else entirely. 

Derek’s grin widened as he watched Spencer sit there, frozen, eyes locked on you like he was seeing a miracle unfold before him. He didn’t even seem to realize he was staring.

Priceless. 

Derek waited, just to see if Spencer would snap out of it on his own. He didn’t. So, with a barely concealed smirk, he leaned in slightly and murmured, “You good, Pretty Boy?” 

Spencer blinked. 

It was as if someone had flipped a switch in his brain. His entire body stiffened, and he finally tore his gaze away from you, only to find Derek smirking at him like a Cheshire cat. 

Spencer cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. “Yeah. Yes. I'm good."

Derek chuckled, shaking his head. “Man, I knew you had it bad, but this?” He let out a low whistle. “This is next-level, kid.” 

Spencer’s ears burned a deep shade of red. He quickly averted his gaze, desperately hoping you hadn’t overheard any of that. 

Derek laughed loudly, shaking his head again. 

You turned around at the sound of Derek’s laughter, narrowing your eyes playfully. “What are you two talking about?” 

Your gaze flicked between them, curiosity piqued. Derek was grinning, while  Spencer was completely avoiding your eyes. 

His head snapped forward, suddenly very interested in the open case file on the table. His fingers fidgeted with the pages, but you could see the way his ears were burning, the telltale sign that he was flustered. 

Derek, of course, looked far too pleased with himself. 

“Oh, nothing,” Derek drawled, dragging out the words just enough to make it clear he was absolutely up to something. “Just discussing some… observations.” 

You raised an eyebrow, shifting your focus back to Spencer, who still refused to look at you. “Spence?” 

His shoulders tensed at the sound of his nickname, and for a brief second, he looked like he was contemplating whether he could somehow phase through the chair and disappear entirely. When he finally turned toward you, his expression was carefully neutral—too neutral. 

“Yes?” His voice was just a little too high. 

You squinted at him, suspicion creeping in. “Are you okay?” 

Derek chuckled under his breath, clearly enjoying every second of this. 

Spencer cleared his throat, straightening up like that would somehow help him regain his composure. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine. Completely fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine?” 

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment. He was fidgeting, his fingers tapping an erratic rhythm against the table. His face was still a little flushed. 

Weird. 

“…Okay,” you said slowly, still unconvinced but willing to let it go.

As Derek and Garcia launched into their own conversation, their voices fading into the background, you turned your full attention to Spencer.

“Hey,” you said, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Is that a new cardigan?” 

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, caught off guard—not just by the question, but by the way you scooted closer, closing the already minimal space between you. 

His brain short-circuited. 

Not only had you noticed something as small as a new cardigan—a detail most people wouldn’t give a second thought—but you were also now sitting impossibly close. He could feel the warmth radiating off you, smell that same perfume that had been distracting him all night. 

“Oh—uh, yeah,” he stammered, fingers twitching slightly against the fabric. “I got it last week.” 

You hummed in approval, reaching out to touch the sleeve lightly. “I like it. It suits you.” 

Spencer was practically spinning at this point. 

His heart was hammering in his chest, and he was fairly certain that if he tried to speak again, the words would come out as a complete mess.

All because you had noticed him. Noticed something about him. Complimented him. And were now sitting so close he could barely think straight.  

His crush had most definitely just gotten worse. 

[makeitmingi]

When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 13]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.3K

You stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the scarf around your neck. It was another day of going to Hongjoong's place to do your gardening duties. Also, it was the first time seeing him after you cried in his arms at his mother's grave.

"Gosh, can you be any more embarrassing?" You asked your reflection with a click of your tongue. With a soft sigh, you went to gather your stuff.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

"Coming!" You ran to open the door, thinking it was the chauffeur that was usually sent to pick you.

"Oh! Hongjoong! I was not expecting you." You blinked as he stood at your door.

"I was in the area for a meeting and thought I could come pick you instead. I hope you don't mind, the chauffeur told me what floor you live on." Hongjoong smiled, tucking his phone back into his coat.

"Not at all. I'm about done, please come in. Don't mind the mess." You said, letting him step in.

"Thanks. Take your time." He bowed his head and entered behind you, removing his shoes in the entrance way.

"I have to bring these down, it shouldn't be too heavy." You gestured before running back into your bedroom to get your socks and handphone. Hongjoong looked around the place, contrary to what you said, there was no mess at all. It was a cozy, little apartment, simple but neat.

"That should be everything... Would you like a drink? Sorry I didn't offer you one when you came in." You chuckled, putting your tools together into a tote bag.

"No worries, I'm good. I had a coffee on the way here." He smiled from his seat on your couch.

"We can go now." You said to him.

"Sure, let me help." He took one of the bags that had fertiliser in it, leaving you to carry the light stuff. Your heart warmed at the sight of the Porsche convertible, he must have brought it for you.

"If the things can't fit in the boot, I'll have them on my lap." You told him as he loaded the stuff in.

"We should be fine. It'll be uncomfortable to have things on your lap." Hongjoong said as he arranged the stuff to make space.

"There." He placed the last bag in and closed the boot. After opening the door for you to enter the passenger seat, he closed the door and ran over to the driver's side.

Before moving out of the parking space, Hongjoong put the hood down then started to drive. It wasn't as awkward anymore but you did still feel embarrassed after what happened last time. He saw you cry and you cried all over his probably expensive suit.

"Is it too warm? Shall I put the hood back up?" Hongjoong asked, having noticed the uncomfortable expression on your face.

"No, not at all. You don't have to put the hood back up. I'm enjoying it, don't worry." You shook your head, continuing to look out instead of look in Hongjoong's direction.

"Welcome back, sir."

The intercom voice sounded as Hongjoong pulled up to the gates of the estate before they opened the let you in.

"Although it's such a long walk, the greenery along the driveway makes it such a nice sight." You commented. Hongjoong let out a hum of agreement.

The others must heard of Hongjoong's arrival at the gate because you saw a butler and two maids waiting there for your arrival.

"There are stuff in the back, take it and help her bring it to the back garden." Hongjoong said, coming out of the driver's seat.

"Yes, sir. Right away." They stepped forward to retrieve your items from the boot as Hongjoong opened the door for you. You stood there awkwardly, unsure of what you were supposed to do now. You were still not used to this, you've always done everything yourself without any butlers or maids.

"Right this way, ma'am." One of the maids bowed, leading you into the house. Hongjoong re-entered the car and drove off, presumably to park his car.

"(y/n)! You're here." Mingi grinned.

"Hi, Mingi." You bowed your head, still finding yourself acting formal with the others.

"Have you eaten?" He asked with a tilt of his head, munching on the slice of toast in his hand. You mentally chuckled, imagining all the crumbs he must be dropping onto the ground.

"I have. Thank you." You smiled.

"Good. If you get hungry, ask the chef to make you something, alright? Don't go hungry." He winked and went upstairs.

"Miss, shall we leave the things here?" The butler asked as you stepped out into the backyard.

"Yes, that's fine. Thank you so much for your help." You bowed repeatedly to them. They smiled and bowed back to you before taking their leave. The first thing you did was take your notepad out to check your to-do list for today.

"Good morning, (y/n)." You turned to see Seonghwa standing there, cradling a cup of tea in his hands. He was dressed in a button up white shirt and wide pants, making him look casual but elegant.

"Good morning, Seonghwa. How has your morning been?" You asked with a smile.

"Busy as usual. Have you seen Hongjoong? I heard he went to pick you up after his meeting." He enquired.

"Yeah, he did. He dropped me off out front and I assumed that he was just going to park the car but I guess not?" You giggled as Seonghwa rolled his eyes.

Another thing you learnt was that while Hongjoong kept everyone else in check, Seonghwa kept Hongjoong in check.

"Never mind him then. How has the garden been coming along?" He moved closer to look.

"Hopefully making progress. I managed to move the plants to where they need to be, in the proper soils without having to compete for nutrients. Today, it's laying fertiliser and all that." You explained.

"The plants are in good hands then." He chuckled and you nodded your head. Seonghwa's phone ringing pulled him away, the both of you bowed your heads to each other as he entered the house to answer the call. You let out a sigh of relief, still feeling slightly intimidated by him and his energy.

"Are you scared of Seonghwa hyung?"

"Ah!" You yelped, jumping back and clutching onto your heart, as you came face to face with Jongho. He smiled cheekily at you before straightening up.

"You scared me, Jongho." You let out a sigh as you picked up the trowel that you dropped.

"You didn't answer my question. Are you scared of Seonghwa hyung?" He raised an eyebrow, repeating his question.

"He's a little intimidating... His aura and everything. Like a critique that you want to try and impress...? I don't even know if that makes any sense." You tried your best to explain it to him.

"I get it, Seonghwa hyung has that effect on people." Jongho nodded.

"But you know, we're not that scary. We may seem like we're scary people but we're not." He added.

"I know, I'm slowly learning that." You giggled as you used the trowel to loosen up the packed soil around the plant roots. Jongho watched you take the fertiliser and add it to the soil, using your hands to manually pack it in so it wouldn't be too tight.

Jongho stood there, watching you. He has never met a girl that was willing to get down and have her hands in the dirt. It still amused and amazed him to watch you work.

"Is there anything else you need, Jongho?" You asked, realising he was looming over quietly.

"Nope. Just watching you work, it's rather fascinating and I'm learning something new when I do." He shrugged.

"It's just taking care of the plants. It is concerning that your previous gardeners never did these. But it's not surprising, considering all the mistakes I found." You mumbled the last part.

"You're funny, (y/n)."

"I just don't like that the plants suffer at the hands of someone who is literally paid to take care of them." You sighed.

"I get it, I get it. Don't worry, that guy is gone and we have you now." He smiled.

Although, when Jongho said 'gone', you assumed it meant that the previous gardener was fired. You didn't know that Jongho meant that the guy was no longer alive.

"Ah, Jongho ah. Stop disturbing her and let her work. You should be doing your own work too!" Seonghwa yelled from the glass doors, presumably having finished his phone call. Jongho scoffed, offended that Seonghwa would suggest he was disturbing you. You giggled at their banter, they were really close.

"Well, I'll see you later, (y/n)." Jongho did conceed. You waved as he entered the house to go back to work.

"Alright, what's next?" You stood up, dusting your hands. You went to retrieve the other bag of fertiliser to move to another garden patch. These fertilisers were all personally mixed together by you.

"Grow well." You wished the plant, hoping your custom mix of fertilisers would provide the plants with what they needed.

"Maybe one day, there'll be a compost area here for all the waste." You thought out loud.

"We should, there's enough space." You turned to see Hongjoong standing there with a small smile on his face. He had gotten rid of his jacket and was in a shirt and pants.

"Seonghwa came to look for you earlier. Playing hooky?" You teased.

"Just because I wasn't in my office, he thinks I was out skipping work." Hongjoong rolled his eyes with a scoff.

"Anyway, I was wondering if you would like to have some lunch." Hongjoong said. You straightened up, digging for your phone to check the time. Indeed, it was already a little after noon, you didn't think you spent such a long time doing this.

"Sure, I lost track of time. Didn't know I spent so much time doing just this." You gestured. Hongjoong waited for you before walking back to the house.

"I'll go wash my hands and freshen up." You excused yourself and went to the bathroom to wash your hands and face.

"Ah, (y/n)!" Yunho ran to into you as you were exiting the bathroom. You smiled and waved at him.

"Are all of you working from home today? I seem to be running into most of you and it's only lunch time." You chuckled. Yunho laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

"I never know where my brothers are." He admitted.

"I guess you all have different schedules that it'll be hard to keep track. Poor Seonghwa." You giggled.

"Nah, I bet hyung secretly likes to nag us. Him and Hongjoong hyung." Yunho joked, the both of you snickering. Hongjoong watched you and Yunho laugh as you headed over.

When did you two get so close?

"Today is a warm day, you should take more breaks in the shade and make sure you drink a lot of water." Yunho smiled kindly. You nodded and bowed your head. Of course, Yunho noticed that Hongjoong had been looking at your interaction the entire time. But he wanted to rile the captain up more.

"This way." Hongjoong said to you. You stepped into the dining room, it was your first time here since you started working in the estate. Or rather, this was the first meal you've had with them.

Usually, you sit in the living room or garden gazebo to eat. Honestly, it was really intimidating.

"Sit wherever you feel comfortable." Hongjoong gestured.

"Really? Looks like there are assigned seats..." You mumbled to yourself. But Hongjoong gently placed a hand on your back to guide you forward, the seat to the right of the head.

"I sit here, you can sit with me." Hongjoong said. The seat felt like it would be the seat that's occupied for sure.

"Come, (y/n). That's Seonghwa hyung's seat." Jongho entered the dining room, pulling you along.

"You lied!" You pointed accusingly at Hongjoong, who blinked.

"Hwa doesn't care, the others are just trying to make him scarier than he actually is." Hongjoong rolled his eyes. But you were not taking the chance, you moved to sit where ever Jongho and Yunho told you to, which was next to Jongho, opposite Yunho.

"Yeosang hyung sits here but he's out for a meeting so you're good." Jongho said as the butler pulled the chair out for you to sit. You quickly bowed to him and sat down.

"Who's scarier than he actually is?" On cue, Seonghwa walked in, typing away on his phone.

"It's nothing." Hongjoong sighed.

"It's only noon and you're already sighing." Seonghwa raised an eyebrow at his best friend before taking his seat, which was the exact seat Hongjoong had offered you earlier.

"See? Told you." Jongho leaned over to whisper to you and you hummed with a soft giggle.

"Just get lunch." Hongjoong said to the butler, rubbing his forehead.

"Nice to see you here, (y/n)." Seonghwa finally noticed you and smiled at you. You returned the smile and nodded your head then the trays of food came in.

"Lunch is served." The maids and butlers said as they placed trays in front of you. Your eyes widened, this was how you imagined royalty was served their meals. The food was good, regular fare, but plated nicely and arranged on an individual tray. You have never been served like this before.

"Is something wrong?" Yunho asked.

"No, not at all." You forced a smile and picked up your chopsticks. Just then, Mingi came into the dining room, letting out a loud yawn as he stretched his arms over his head.

"Mingi. That's rude." Seonghwa scolded. Mingi rubbed his eyes, a clear sign that he had just woken up.

"Oh, (y/n). You're having lunch here today." Mingi acknowledged as he took his seat beside Yunho. You nodded and swallowed your food.

"Did you just nap since breakfast?" Yunho asked his best friend.

"Dude, I told you I didn't sleep last night so I have sleep to catch up on. I keep having issues sleeping." Mingi said, running his fingers through his messy hair as the butler put his tray down.

"You're too used to doing night stuff, that's why your body clock is having issues adjusting." Hongjoong pointed out.

"I should just be on night shift, I'm only doing Yeosang's work because he's busy taking over San's- Mmph!" Mingi's sentence was cut off as he crumpled over, wincing in pain. He turned his head to shoot Yunho a glare.

"Are you okay, Mingi?" You asked worriedly. Mingi met Yunho's eyes, who shifted in your direction.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just hit my toe against the chair leg." Mingi lied as he began to eat. You didn't notice the sigh of relief Seonghwa and Hongjoong let out.

"If that's not enough food for you, you can always ask for seconds, alright? They always make extras for us." Jongho told you.

"This is more than enough for me. I might not even be able to finish this." You chuckled.

"Is the food to your liking?" Hongjoong asked.

"It's very good. Thank you." You smiled as continued to eat. If the food wasn't to your liking, Hongjoong would have asked the cook to make you something entirely differently.

"Seconds." Seonghwa raised his hand and Yunho did the same, the maid coming forward to get their plates for more food.

"Oh gosh, I'm so full. And I should probably get back to work. Thank you for the meal." You stood up and bowed to the boys at the table, hightailing it out of there before anyone could say anything else. The 5 just sat there, blinking, stunned before turning to their captain at the head of the table.

"(y/n), hold on. Is something wrong?" Hongjoong came out from the dining room right before you could go out the glass doors. You paused in your tracks and turned around.

"No, Hongjoong. Everything is fine." You fiddled with your fingers.

"Was it that awkward and uncomfortable?" He tilted his head. You rubbed the back of your neck.

"It's not any of you... It's just... I'm supposed to be a worker too... Feels inappropriate to be sitting in that fancy dining, getting served like that." You winced.

"Oh, (y/n). There's no need for you to worry about that. You're not a worker-worker... You're my friend, it's different." He chuckled.

"I know, it just takes a while to get used to. I'm not familiar with any of this but don't worry!" You rubbed your arm.

"(y/n), if you're uncomfortable, just tell me. I know it can all be very intimidating. Don't feel forced to do anything." He smiled. The both of you walked out to the back garden together.

"No, I don't feel forced at all. And it's not just that..." You cleared your throat, trying to figure out how to find the words to tell him. Maybe you should just leave it. Telling Hongjoong your feelings might just make things more awkward between the two of you.

"Are you worried about what happened when we went to see my mum?" He asked in a soft voice.

"How... How did you..." Your eyes widened.

"I figured. (y/n), you know I don't care about stuff like that right? I'm not bothered and it doesn't change anything." Hongjoong smirked. You nodded slowly.

"Thanks." You murmured.

"Now come. I think it's finally time for me to give you a proper tour of the place." Hongjoong clapped his hands.

"Don't you have to work? Don't any of you have to work?" You threw your head back with a groan. Hongjoong just laughed and gestured for you to go back into the house for the tour.

"Hang on." You paused and he nodded.

"Take your time." He watched you fiddle with one of the bags you had brought and retrieved what looked like a small white linen bag.

"Mingi! Luckily you're still here. I just remembered that I had this in my bag of gardening stuff. Here you go." You handed the taller the small white bag just as he was leaving the dining room. Both him and Hongjoong looked confused but Mingi lifted the white bag to take a sniff of it.

"It smells good. What is it?" He blinked.

"Dried lavender. I use it as a natural insect repellent for plants but it's very good to help sleep too. Since you said you have trouble sleeping, you can put this by your pillow." You explained.

"Oh, thank you, (y/n). I'll definitely put this by my pillow." Mingi smiled, continuing to sniff the bag.

"I hope it helps." You smiled and he nodded before heading upstairs. You were unaware of the now slightly sulky Hongjoong behind you.

"You didn't have to do that, you know? He's just childishly whining about it." Hongjoong commented. Your eyebrows raised slightly at his words, was Hongjoong jealous?

"I know but I wanted to help since I already have the dried lavender. So I thought why not? It's not 100% effective but it may help just a little so no harm." You shrugged as you followed him up the stairs to see the rest of the house.

"Honestly in our household, almost everyone has trouble sleeping. Not sure if we're just constantly thinking about work or something." He pointed out.

"Oh, really? Well, I don't have anymore on hand now but I'll keep that in mind and bring more the next time I come." You giggled.

~

Series masterlist

[silhouetteonpaper]

The Rooftop

Summary: The rooftop was like your safe space. It felt even more familiar than the apartment you just moved into. Transitioning to the city wasn’t easy, and you had to do it all alone. But when someone else joins you at your secret spot, who would’ve thought where you’d be by the end of the week? Natasha Romanoff x Reader W/C: 2,985 Warnings/Themes: Angst, fluff, allusions to suicide, combat, abandonment A/N: I just moved to nyc and unfortunately Natasha does not live in the same building :( But it gave good inspiration for this fic I’ve been cooking up! I hope you enjoy! (this fic does contain brief mentions of suicide, but doesn’t outwardly state it. if you are ever feeling down, my DMs are always open.)

Crisp, cool air blew across the red of your cheeks, the partially dry tears making haste to fully evaporate. Puffy red eyelids left in their stead, yet you ignored it to look out at the city below. Your legs dangled off the concrete, a thin coat barely keeping you warm in the winter weather outside. The rooftop provided solace from the world— no matter what was going on in your life, there would be peace and quiet up here. Though, this apartment complex had a different view on the top floor.

Instead of being five or so stories up, this building was reaching for the stars at over fifty floors. You never imagined you’d move to a city where the buildings climbed to incredible heights, but here you were. The cars were smaller this high up, yet the lights were so much brighter. Each little window, each traffic light, each digital billboard traveling for miles into the distance; it all filled the muted buzz below with a warm glow. There was another difference with this new apartment building’s view, but it wasn’t one you encountered on the first night after moving in.

The third night was when this change occurred. A disruption to your peaceful evening, prompted by the redhead who jolted at the sight of your dark silhouette. “Oh, I’m sorry.” You spoke, turning around to see the woman in the low lighting. She had been so quiet when entering the rooftop, it was only the sharp inhale that gave away her presence. As the woman looked you up and down, you hoped she couldn’t see your red teary eyes under the dark night sky. “I stole your spot, didn’t I? I can leave…” But before you could move to get up, she waved her hand outwards to keep you in place.

“No, there’s no need. This is a shared space.” You nodded once, turning back to your former spot. Even in the dim lighting, you could see her lips curve into a soft smile. If you studied her expression harder, maybe there was something else in her eyes beyond that. “Are you new to the building?” The woman asked as she sat a few feet away on the ledge.

You wrapped yourself tighter in your coat. “Yeah, moved in just a few days ago. It’s quite the dream, but definitely more… busy— than what I’m used to.” There was a feeling like you could talk openly with this woman; the words easily formed regardless of your prior state. She made the bold move to not only join you, but spark up a conversation. It felt comfortable.

“Welcome to the city,” She laughed. It was low and raspy, making you smile in return. “You’ll get used to it eventually. I’m Natasha, by the way.” Her eyes met yours, and that’s when she noticed their glassy rim. 

You quickly introduced yourself, looking back out to the city before she felt the need to press. “Nice to meet you.” Her eyes lingered on you for a moment, but eventually her gaze fell back out to the vast streets as well.

“What got you to move here?” Natasha asked, keeping things light. You weren’t sure if she was purposely avoiding asking what was wrong.

You kept your eyes on everything but her. “Work. My new job is in the city, and I figured it would be easier to move all together than to commute.” Were you oversharing? You weren’t sure, and the exhaustion from crying earlier was making you slightly unaware of your words. That’s why you came up here in the first place; to think and to process the harsh transition. For some reason, Natasha was making you question your every move. You didn’t want to ruin her night with your sob story.

“Smart, probably easier that way.” She was likely just playing along, yet you hoped your small talk wasn’t boring her. The conversation would have been so much easier if you weren’t freezing in the winter wind. No matter how close you pulled your jacket, the chill still got into your bones. “You’re shivering. Why don’t you come inside for some coffee?” She was observant, you quickly realized.

Did you hear her correctly? Looking up at her, she was already gazing at you with gleaming eyes and questioning brows. Your lips curved into a sort of half smile; something about her was enticing. She didn’t mention your red eyes, or strange behavior. Natasha just went along with it all and invited you inside. How could you say no? “That would be lovely.”

Her unit was laid out similarly to yours, except she decorated hers completely different. Instead of the homey, cozy ambiance you created in your own apartment with the softest plush couch and all the warmest blankets you could find, Natasha opted for a sleeker, more stylish appeal. She had a leather couch in the center of the living room, paintings that seemed to have large price tags hung on the walls, and a minimalist clean feel on each kitchen counter. It almost seemed like she didn’t spend much time here. There wasn’t much live between the walls and expensive decorations, yet maybe that was the kind of person she was.

“Here,” Natasha handed you a white mug of steaming coffee. Natasha stood behind the counter, nodding toward a stool at the countertop for you to sit. The warmth was relieving as you held the steaming liquid between your hands, offering a nod in thanks. There was a silence, but not necessarily an awkward one.

“So,” You sipped at your coffee, debating what to ask her. Eyeing the paintings, you opted for the usual ‘get to know you’ banter. “What do you do for work?”

Natasha must’ve noticed your prior look around, as she smiled. “I work at a law firm.” That’s why she was so observant, it was likely her job to notice every detail. She poured herself a mug of coffee, but while her eyes were focused on the mug, yours were stuck on her. There was an interesting quality to her; she was forward, yet kind. She was classy, yet seemed humble. The incessant urge to get to know her only grew.

“How long have you lived in New York?” You kept the questions going, savoring the time with Natasha while trying to keep the silence at bay.

“Over a decade now,” She answered, tilting her head as more gears turned internally. “But I’m still learning new things about the city to this day.” Her eyes met yours again, and you smiled in response. Natasha was attempting to make you feel better about your nervous jitters regarding moving to a big city, and it was definitely making a big impact. It was proof that a little kindness could go a long way.

“Can I ask you something now?” Natasha questioned softly, wrapping her hands around the warm mug out of hesitance. You nodded, raising your eyebrows ever so slightly. Assuming she’d ask something taboo, you thought she’d propose a silly personal question that would help her get to know you. Why else would she ask permission? But the next words Natasha spoke made your heart sink. “What was going on before I got to the roof? Are you alright?” You realized you hadn’t even thought about your earlier episode since Natasha appeared.

It was probably quite the sight to walk in on. Someone dangling their feet over a rooftop with tears streaming down their face, protected by nothing but the warmth of their red cheeks. Most people don’t sit on the ledge of a building unless they have grim intentions. You hoped she couldn’t see that much, but her ability to notice even the smallest of details was becoming more clear. The truth was, you were completely overwhelmed. Moving to a new city was one of the scariest things you’d ever done. 

All your life, you lived in a small town where kids were expected to grow up and join the endless cycle of never escaping it. You were different; ever since the idea of graduating filled your mind, you dreamed of a life where you could leave and see the world. Your parents disagreed, and knew the wish would fizzle out eventually. But with perseverance, you got your degree, worked a simple job at home to save up, and finally received a job offer in one of the many iconic places you had dreamed of visiting.

It all sounded so perfect; moving to the city, working a job you loved, becoming the best version of yourself. But that reality was quickly slashed in half when your goodbyes were fronted with your parents cutting you off. They didn’t support you moving away, and you knew they wouldn’t. But a part of you hoped they would change their minds after seeing how happy you were here. So far, they’ve kept up the cold front, but you knew that this was just another hump to get over.

Your apartment was quickly furnished with each piece you meticulously chose beforehand. The cozy safe space was built, and you were ready to face the world outside. But to your dismay, the workforce on this side of the coast was quite contrasting to what you were used to. There was no evidence of a team that worked together, but rather competing employees and constant challenges to prove yourself. The first day of work was so overwhelming, you swore you’d never leave your apartment again. Still, the urge to keep persevering was embedded in you at this point.

Another day of work, and you were completely drained. If only you weren’t so excited to start, and offered to work the second you moved in. The inevitable breakdown commenced the moment you got home from the crowded subway ride; each slow stop into the stations urging your tears to finally fall as you rode back from work. You had no one to comfort you but the serene cityscape that coaxed you to move here in the first place. After sitting in the heavy weight of despair for a few hours, Natasha’s presence was relieving. Proof that people weren’t all terrible, and maybe the city had something good to offer.

You suddenly realized Natasha had been staring at you with furrowed brows for who knows how long; the silence had grown as she waited for you to respond. “It’s been a lot to move here as someone who isn’t used to the city,” You paused, trying to think of what to say. Natasha clearly cared about what was happening earlier, so you knew there was no reason to spare details. “My parents cut me off when I left home, so I’ve been on my own during this move.” You looked down at your nearly-finished mug of coffee. “Work has been terrible, and I’m worried I made the wrong choice.”

There was more silence, but you could feel Natasha’s expression soften. “I go to the roof to think. It’s what I did at my old place. I promise I wasn’t up there for any other reason.” You clarified, looking back up at Natasha to see her smile slightly.

“Good, because there was no way I was letting that happen.” Her tone was back to being direct, just as before. There was an unspoken comfort in the way she listened to you, like she somehow understood— or at least wanted to. You weren’t sure what it was, but you were thankful Natasha had entered the rooftop when she did.

“Is that why you sat with me, and invited me inside?” The question left your lips out of worry. If you weren’t a damsel in distress, would she take back her kindness? Maybe it was your recent anxieties forming in new ways; the abandonment from your parents had to have left a mark.

Natasha tilted her head again, you could tell that meant she was thinking. “Not completely. If anyone is out there crying alone, I’m not just going to leave.” You took a deep breath, offering her an understanding smile.

“Does this happen often, then?” You joked, sipping at the last drop of your coffee. She laughed, shaking her head.

“You’re my first rooftop rescue— in this apartment at least.” She winked, making the red of your cheeks return. “But in all honestly, I’m sorry about your parents. I’m glad you moved here, we have one less cranky neighbor now.” Her eyes lit up as you laughed. “If you ever need anything, I’m right down the hall.” Natasha was truly kind, yet cunning. Whatever this was between you two, you were beyond grateful.

After an exchange of numbers and a few lasting goodnights, you left for your own apartment. Coffee with Natasha was just what you needed, and the guarantee of seeing each other again kept you eager for whatever tomorrow had to offer. Her extended support instilled you with the urge to give living in New York one more shot. If you knew she was just down the hall, maybe living here wouldn’t be so bad.

—————

After you returned from a long workday, you were supposed to have a relaxing evening. The idea of walking down the hall and knocking on Natasha’s door pestered you all day; maybe you two could go for drinks, or have a night in. But you didn’t even get to take your coat off before chaos struck.

It happened so quickly. You put your bag on the bed, then there was a crash in the kitchen. Someone was in your apartment. You didn’t even remember dialing her number, but your only New York contact picked up in seconds. “Natasha,” your voice was quiet as you held the phone to your cheek, tears brimming in your eyes as you hid beside your bed. “Someone’s here, call 911.” Another crash. You winced. Natasha breathed heavily into the phone like she was already running, yet didn’t say a word before the line hung up. You assumed she was dialing the authorities as quickly as possible. You were wrong.

Crash. Your head fell into your knees. This was how you were going to die; not by falling off of a roof, but by being too defenseless to do anything. Smash. They were looting the place, but the next sound you heard wasn’t the echo of dishes breaking— it was the grunt of a woman. Natasha, you quickly realized as something thumped against the wall. She came here to defend you, but why? How could someone be so brave to fight against a few apartment thieves? Why didn’t she just call the police?

Silence. Oh god, how you hoped they didn’t hurt her. Your head was fully in your knees by now, red marks being left in the palms of your hands by how tight you were holding yourself. The bedroom door squeaked open, and your heart nearly stopped. “Are you okay?” The low raspy voice brought air into your lungs— it was Natasha, not one of the perpetrators. Raising your head, you looked up at the redhead who appeared without a scratch. She bent down beside you, her hand resting on your knee as you caught your breath.

“How did you..?” You muttered as tears fell onto your cheeks. “Are they gone?” You looked up to see her nodding and offering a hand. Taking it, you stood on wobbling legs as she took you out into the kitchen. With a racing heart, you didn’t know what to say. Did she scare the thieves off? The silence was ringing in your ears, yet you had no idea what would be lying in your kitchen as Natasha walked you out of the bedroom.

Two intruders, dressed in black, both unconscious and bleeding on the floor. Your hand covered your mouth in shock; it was almost more distressing than the broken dishes and littered belongings everywhere. “What the hell…” You slowly looked over to the redhead, who was fronting a stoic expression. Whoever that woman was, she somehow took out both of the criminals. “Who the hell are you?” You locked eyes with the woman before you who was a friend mere moments ago, but now felt like a stranger. As relieving as it was she dealt with the intruders, you had no clue if she’d be one too.

She inhaled sharply, eyeing both the intruders as if they’d stand back up for another round. “We need to get you out of here, c’mon.” Her hand found your shoulder as she softly pushed you toward the door, her urgency rising.

“No!” You shouted, turning on your feet to face her again. “Tell me what the hell just happened.” With words like ice, you stood frozen as the woman who seemed to be in a rush remained silent for a moment.

“I don’t work at a law firm,” She breathed. “I work for S.H.I.E.L.D.. This wasn’t a coincidence, someone’s after you. I don’t want to wait and find out what they’ll do next.” S.H.I.E.L.D., as in the big organization of trained agents? Natasha was an agent, and suddenly everything was making sense. Her insane ability to read small details; her knack for offering support; her ability to take out two enemies in seconds. You knew it was likely she was undercover, yet you still felt betrayed.

Regardless, the threatening manor of her words took precedence above all else. “Someone’s after me?” You questioned, watching Natasha’s every expression. What could someone possibly want with you? You had only lived here for a few days, yet whoever organized this clearly wanted to take care of it as soon as possible.

She nodded once firmly. “Yes, now move before I move you.” In that moment, you knew you didn’t have a choice— and that above all else, your life was about to get even crazier.

[pomefioredove]

I kinda wanted to be a little different with this one—

May I request a sugar cookie #5 with dried fruit and chestnuts please? Thank you very much!

this is the most ridiculous thing I've ever written /positive I hope you guys enjoy

order #5, sugar with dry fruit, chestnuts

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ sickness and kisses

summary: kalim wants to be a part of everything- including your cold. what better way to share germs than getting close? tropes: sick fic, first kiss characters: kalim additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu, a little gross

"It should have been me!"

Jamil winces and takes a step away from the bed. You hold out a hand to him, as if to say "take me with you."

"Kalim, they're not dying. It's nothing but a cold,"

The boy peels himself off bed at your feet, which he's been attached to all afternoon.

"You don't get it, Jamil! They're going to miss my birthday party- the desserts, the music, the games! Who knows if the Prefect will be here for my birthday next year!"

"Kalim," you pat his head to comfort him, though, if anyone needs comfort, it's you. "I'll be fine. We can have another party when I'm better."

He sighs, leaning into your touch. "It's not the same..."

Jamil looks more sick than you now.

"Ahem. I've brought soup and tea, and there are extra blankets in the foyer. Kalim, we should be going,"

Kalim pouts and clings to your blankets. "Just a moment..."

"I'll be waiting outside,"

Jamil doesn't need to be excused twice, leaving the room and closing the door on his way out.

Kalim sighs. "I just hate when my friends are sick... I wish there was a way I could share some of your pain,"

"That's nice, but you don't have to- ack," you cough into your fist.

Kalim's sympathetic pat would be comforting, if not for that look. You can tell he's thinking something.

He waits for you to finish hacking and coughing, at least. Then:

"I have an idea," he says. "You can get me sick. That way, we can still spend my birthday together, and you won't be alone!"

Thinking something, alright. You're surprised Jamil couldn't feel that on his "Kalim's bad ideas" radar and come running before anything more happened.

"I appreciate that, Kalim, but this kinda sucks," you smile. "I wouldn't wish this upon my worst enemy."

He smiles back and sits beside you on the bed, closer now.

"But you and Jamil said it's just a cold! I've been poisoned, you know- I think I could handle it!"

You blink. "Well... yeah, but it's still sucky,"

"But we'll be together!" he insists. "Now, how should we do this? I've never gotten sick on purpose before, so I don't- oh, I know!"

"Huh?"

He comes a little closer, leaning over you. "I'll kiss you!"

Your eyes widen, and again, you're surprised Jamil didn't feel that and burst through the door like the room was on fire.

"Like... seriously?"

"Why not? It's the fastest way. But I could figure something else out if you don't want to," he eyes your hands. "Maybe you could-"

"Alright! I concede! Just... one kiss,"

Kalim beams. "One is all I need!"

With no further warning, questioning, or thought, he dips in and presses a sweet, chaste kiss to your lips. It doesn't last for more than a second, but it still leaves you a little flustered.

He hums, licks his lips, and then hops off the bed. "Thanks, Prefect! I'll be back in no time, don't worry!"

He leaves the door open behind him. You're honestly the last person he should worry about, now.

You wonder, for a moment, what he was thinking- Kalim is ditzy, not dense. He had to have known what he was...

Your eyes widen as you remember something else. Oh, crap.

If this works, Jamil is going to kill you.

[ladykailitha]

Share With Me One Love, One Life Time Part 3

Hey, guys! We are moving right along with this story, and I think we're gonna hit 8 chapters if everything goes to plan. Fingers crossed!

So much happens in this chapter, like sooo so much it would take as long listing it as it would for you to just read it.

Enjoy!

Part 1 Part 2

~

Steve was on the walkie talkies as much as he could spare when they weren’t looking into the issue of Vecna, he didn’t want Eddie to feel like they’d forgotten him.

Nancy had gone to Wayne first thing in the morning.

“Mr. Munson?” she asked timidly. “I’m Nancy Wheeler.”

“Ah,” Wayne said dryly, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back. “I don’t have my shot gun or you’d be facing its double barrel, I’m afraid. I know what you did to Steve, you and I aren’t gonna get cozy anytime soon.”

Nancy winced. “Yeah, I know. But I’m here about Eddie.” She inched forward, nervously picking at her fingernails.

Wayne glared at her and took a step back. “Dr. Owens has already been in touch and I’ve been forcibly removed from my home. They think this another Upside Down fuckery.”

“Yeah,” she said, looking at the ground. “Steve and Eddie sent me because if the police or anyone else are watching you, then it won’t link back to them. They’ll just see some nosy Parker hoping to get her first big scoop.”

Wayne licked his lips nice and slow. “I can see sense in that, I suppose. So my boy is safe?”

“Yes,” Nancy said quickly. “But with the cops thinking he did it, I don’t know how long that’s going to be true.”

“My boy didn’t do that,” Wayne growled. “He wouldn’t. He’s not in league with whatever is doing this and you best remember that.”

“I don’t think he had anything to do with it either,” she hastened to reply. “We know what people look and act like when they’re being controlled and he doesn’t display any of the symptoms.”

Wayne eyed her suspiciously and then nodded curtly. “What are you next moves?”

~

“No.”

Robin and Nancy looked at each other in shocked anger.

“Are you suggesting that we would need a big tough guy to go to a psychiatric hospital?” Robin sneered.

Wayne crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes, that is exactly what I’m saying. Because what happens if he attacks one of you before the orderly can get to him? Say oops, when he snaps one of your necks?”

Nancy started stammering and um’ing and ah’ing while Robin stared at him wide eyed and in shock. Steve pursed his lips and waved at Wayne, indicating he had a point.

“If you’re not going to listen to me,” he huffed, “maybe you’ll listen to him. Because honestly that’s only the worst case scenario, but the others aren’t much better. What happens if you get caught?”

“Well,” Nancy huffed as she scrambled for an answer, “I mean...it’s worked for us in the past.”

“You’re not going and that’s final,” Wayne growled. “I don’t care if that’s how you always do things before, you’re not doing them now. I get your lot is all that is standing between the end of the world, but we’re going to do things the smart way and not blunder into the right thing by accident.”

Steve smiled and relaxed. He still cared about Nancy and Robin was his best friend, the thought of them talking to that man without help sent shivers down his spine.

“So what’s going to happen is this,” Wayne continued, “Robin and Steve will keep an eye on Max and the other kids, while Nancy and I head to Pennhurst. Is that clear?”

Robin nodded, feeling relieved. She would have gone with Nancy if she was asked to, because someone needed to keep an eye on her. But with Wayne going with her, that was a load off everyone’s shoulders.

Nancy chewed on her lip, she didn’t want anyone to get in her way, and she had deliberately picked Robin because she knew the other girl would do as she said. But judging from the way Wayne was glaring at her, he had figured her out.

“Fine.”

~

“You can’t keep me here,” Max huffed, “in this basement that smells of sweaty boys and old socks.”

“Yes I can,” Steve snapped back. “I don’t want you running off where we can’t see you and have you up and die on us!”

“I’ll call my lawyer!” Max hissed. “So either you drive me or I start walking!”

Steve closed his eyes and then buried his head in hands. He didn’t want to do this. Billy didn’t deserve the letter she was going to read to him. He still had his in his back pocket and he had no intention of reading the thing because they were going to save her. They had to.

He yanked open the car door. “Everyone in!”

Lucas got in first and scooted to the middle as Robin and Max flanked him, Dustin having beaten them to the front seat.

~

They drove out to the cemetery and parked as close as he could to Billy’s grave. He rubbed his chin as he waited.

“If you don’t shut up,” he finally growled at Dustin, who was being a little shit, “I’ll knock out those brand new pearly whites of yours.”

“Whoa, whoa!” Dustin huffed, turning to face Steve with furrowed brows. “Too far!”

“Then you knock it off,” Steve snapped back. “I don’t know what has gotten into you lately, but holy hell the lack of respect coming from that side of the car is immense right now.”

Dustin rolled his eyes as Steve turned his attention back to Max. “That’s it, I’m calling.” He shoved the car door open and slammed it shut.

Lucas was out of the car in a flash. “She said to give her time.”

“I don’t care,” Steve huffed. “It’s been long enough.” He stalked across the cemetery lawn, passed the other tombstones.

He reached her and whirled her around, but gasped when he saw her eyes had gone milky white. “Shit!” He shook her shoulder. “Max! Max!”

Dustin, Lucas, and Robin all came dashing over.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Lucas screamed as Max started to rise into the air. He jumped on her to try and keep her on the ground, but she rose with him attached to her legs.

Steve pushed Dustin toward the car. “Get Wayne and Nancy on the walkie-talkie! We need to know what they found out now!”

Dustin scrambled to do as he was told. Lucas tumbled to the ground and let out a pained cried, Robin rushed to his side.

“Hey, you okay?” she murmured. He nodded, hold his arm. He rubbed it a moment and then stood back on his feet.

“Music!” Dustin screamed. “She needs music!”

Then it was Lucas scrambling for the car, he came back with headphones and a Walkman. He turned the music up as loud as he could. Steve and Robin both grabbed Max’s ankles and dragged her down. Lucas slapped the headphones on her head and turned it down so that they couldn’t hear the music anymore, but that it was still loud enough for Max to hear.

As soon the headphones where on she dropped the rest of the way into Lucas’s waiting arms.

A beat. Then another as they waited.

Max opened her eyes and everyone was sobbing in relief. Dustin immediately replied back to the waiting members of their Party. “She’s safe, she’s safe.”

~

“Steve,” Eddie breathed into the walkie-talkie, panic rising from the pit of his stomach. “Please come in. I’m in trouble.”

“This is Steve,” Steve murmured into his device. “What’s wrong?” The recombined Party stood outside the Creel house, looking for a way in.

“Jason and his goons are outside,” Eddie hissed back. “And they don’t look friendly.”

“Shit!” Steve replied. He turned to the rest of them. “We need someone who can drive to go and get Eddie, Jason is there at the boathouse and he’s trapped.”

“I’m on it!” Wayne said digging out his keys.

“Wait!” Nancy shouted, throwing up her hand to stop him. “Take my car! Your truck will be too recognizable!”

Wayne stared at her for a moment and then tossed her his keys. She tossed him hers. He yanked open the door to her station wagon and sped off.

They all kind of stood there for a moment taking in the absolute terror of Jason coming after Eddie, before Robin broke the silence. “So are we breaking into this joint or what?”

~

Eddie made it out onto the boat in the middle of the lake when Patrick, Jason, and Andy came after him. They were about three feet from shore when Wayne pulled up in Nancy’s station wagon. He popped open the glove box and rolled his eyes. Inside was a revolver, with a sigh he pulled out and checked the rounds.

Fully loaded.

“I might like her a little bit,” he muttered as he hopped out of the car and ran up to the water.

“You boys best not be doing what I think you’re doing,” he growled and cocked the gun, the sound loud and clear on the open water. “I’mma gonna give you to the count of five to turn around, nice and slow.”

Jason and Andy turned around as they were told, but Patrick had kept going and had gotten about halfway to Eddie when he started rising in the air.

“Shit!” Wayne hissed as the boys turned around and saw their friend plunge into the water as if by some unseen force. Which considering this Vecna son of a bitch, was more than accurate.

Andy and Jason ran back into the water and Wayne dived into the open door of Nancy’s station wagon and turned up the radio as loud as it could go.

But it was too late. Patrick shot out of the water again and his limbs twisted unnaturally; the sound of them snapping would haunt Wayne for the rest of his days. Eddie started screaming and he scrambled back in the boat in terror, but he went too far and fell into the water.

“God damn it!” Wayne cursed and ran out to the water, but before he could even get to the shore, Patrick dropped like a stone.

“Shit!’ he cursed again.

Jason started screaming about the devil and how he had come to Hawkins, while Andy actually dove into the water to get their slain friend.

“Cal’s gonna kick my ass for this,” he groused, then hauled off and smacked Jason hard across his face.

Jason stopped screaming , staring at Wayne in wide-eyed shock, holding his cheek.

“Do something useful and go into the house and call the cops,” he snarled, “while I help your friend here bring the body to shore.”

Jason hurried to do what he was told and Wayne waded out to the water to help Andy bring Patrick’s body in.

~

“Wayne...” Calvin Powell growled when he saw him sitting on the hood of Nancy’s car, picking at his nails.

“I’m gonna protect my boy,” Wayne said without looking up from his hands. “And those other boys were gonna kill him.”

Powell turned slowly to Jason and Andy who refused to look at him.

“Was that what you were going to do, boys?” he asked raising an eyebrow. “Or is Mr. Munson overreacting?”

Wayne snorted. “If they were planning on bringing him to justice then why didn’t they call police when there was talk of activity up here? Because that’s why I’m here. I heard the same god damn thing.”

Powell pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily.

“You boys are coming with me,” he said, resigned. “To give your statements about Patrick McKinney’s death to start and then we’ll see about the other thing.”

“I’ll give you my statement,” Wayne said dryly, “but you try to stop from trying to find my boy, you and I are gonna tangle, Cal.”

Powell opened his mouth to argue, but knew it was futile. “Fine.”

He looked over at Wayne and then frowned. “Where’s your truck, Wayne?”

Wayne hopped off the station wagon’s hood and patted it fondly. “Nancy Wheeler was wanting to write about the murder and my boy when I heard some of the neighbors talking about lights on up at the Lipton place. So I wanted to go see if it was Eddie and wouldn’t you know it the damn truck wouldn’t start so Nancy let me take her car.”

Powell nodded, but wisely said nothing. He let Wayne get into the car and drive off, before he turned to the other boys.

“We’re going to stay put until the coroner arrives,” he said pointing back and forth between Jason and Andy, “and then you are going to follow me to the station where you are going to tell me everything!”

~

Tag List: EIGHT SLOTS REMAINING

1- @itsall-taken @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @irregular-child @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @beelze-the-bubkiss @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @themoonagainstmers

9- @steddieislife @chaotic-waffle

[555grlbl0gr]

Hey there, hope you’re having a lovely day

First congrats on your succes story🌟

I hope it doesn’t come as annoying but how did you manifest inducing pure consciousness? Did you do while awake or asleep and did you enter it instantly after you decided to manifest the void?

Also my last question 😅 you manifested being able to manifest instantly, I always struggle with this because the 3d is so tempting but 4d is the only reality.

Sorry for the loads of questions, stay hydrated and thank you💛

Manifesting pure consciousness/manifesting instantly:

Hey pretty!! First of all, I’M SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO RESPOND!!! I took a break from tumblr for a while.

About your first question, All I do to enter pure consciousness (a.k.a. the void state) is relax and daydream. I’ve noticed that it’s a common theme on tumblr to overcomplicate things.- And by no means am I judging, I just don’t want you to make things harder for yourself. - The first time that I induced pure consciousness was by accident when I was drifting off for a nap. The truth is: it's incredibly easy to induce that state. The only reason you haven't entered the void is because subconsciously you’re not letting yourself. If you view the void state as something that's really hard to reach, chances are you won’t reach it. And vice versa if you take the void state off the pedestal and instead something you view as easy and 100% achievable you will enter the void state. (chances are you’re probably thinking into it too much and complicating things) When I was learning all this, the trick that I used was my script. I wrote in my manifestation journal an entry about how easy it is to get in and how I induce pure consciousness every night effortlessly. YOU are the only thing keeping you from what you want. Be nice to yourself and do NOT doubt yourself as a manifester.

Side note: i know this is probably confusing and I’m working on a post to go into detail and simplify everything. Check my page to see if its up! I’ll also link it.

And for your second question, it wasn’t quite clear what you were asking. I see you wrote about struggling with not accepting the 3d as your reality, and that’s okay! Don’t be so hard on yourself, love. My trick for manifesting instantly is really believing in my ability, and looking at my past successes when I doubt myself. Just try to keep an open mind and remind yourself everything is coming in divine timing.

Also babe, don’t apologize it’s okay!!

[siggiedraws]

Hello! i absolutely adore your art and agree with your sonic opinions, you're overall one of the best sonic blogs out there. May i ask how do you plan out and draw your comics? How do you choose the formatting of panels themselves, the composition, the dialogue and so on? From A to Z, please! I apologize if this ask might be inconvenient, but i'm curious because i love your comics and have attempted to draw a sonic comic myself that failed miserably.

Typically the first step I will take is to just rough it out in a sketchbook, because I find it much faster and when working digitally I feel more pressure to make things look nice. This is where I start thinking about paneling and composition. It doesn't look perfect or cohesive at this stage, but at least now I have a rough idea presented with barely legible scribbles that don't make sense to anyone but me.

For paneling, large panels linger more, and small panels indicate quick succession. This is the most important rule I personally follow when making panels. It affects things like comedic/dramatic timing and how the reader will be guided through your comic.

It's important to vary up the composition when it comes to dialogue scenes where not that much is happening. The shot-reverse-shot format works, but remember that once you have an establishing shot and the reader knows where the characters are, you can get creative. I like to do close-ups where not everything is shown to create a sense of vagueness around what emotion the character is feeling.

Don't do this too excessively unless you're trying to create a claustrophobic feeling - let it breathe with a medium shot or long shot after!

In film-making, there's a rule called the 180-degree rule that basically states that in a two-character interaction, there is an invisible line drawn between them. The camera does not cross this line and stays on one side. This basically keeps the characters on one respective side of the frame at all times to avoid confusing the viewer.

This is by no means something you have to follow for comics, but if you want to create something that is easier to follow, it's a good rule of thumb that I consider when drafting! It can also be broken depending on the effect you're going for.

Once I have a draft, I'll typically go into editing and changing things that don't work quite as well as I'd like. This can be done by yourself or you can get it revised by a friend, like I do!

After the draft is finished, I'll get to lining and colouring. To be honest, it's not something I can teach so easily, but rather something that takes a lot of time and practice to learn. I typically draw the backgrounds with thinner lineart so that the characters stand out. Same deal with colouring - the characters stand out from the background colour-wise. There are multiple ways to do this, but for example, here I made the background have less colour contrast than the characters and stick to an orange-ish tone, while the characters are different colours from the background.

For speech bubbles, generally the words should fit the shape of the bubble to the best of your ability. The line spacing should be as close and compact as possible without touching the lines above or below. This is to save space on the page so that speech bubbles don't take up a majority. The tail of the bubble should point towards the character's mouth.

Avoid tangenting! This is when the very edges of two different things touch each other. It creates a flatter effect so you want to avoid it as much as possible.

That's about all I can think of right now. Hope this helped!

[writingdevil]

hi!! :3 ouh for the writing request, if you dont mind, how about smitten and opportunist? i like them as a ship but you can do them platonically too if you prefer 👍👍

(I think they'd be such a good ship!The one who manipulates and lies meets the world's most unabashedly passionate and loving person in the world!I think Opportunist wouldn't be able to help but fall for Smitten's words of love, and that Smitten would find Opportunist's attempts to charm and suck up to him adorable!Anyways, enjoy!)

"How do I look?"

"Absolutely beautiful, if I do say so myself."

Opportunist smiled at the way Smitten's feathers puffed up under his praise.Smitten had been complaining about the state of his feathers, and Opportunist had so graciously offered to preen him, and Smitten had been nothing but grateful.

They were currently sitting on Smitten's bed, and Opportunist's eyes were taking in every inch of the room-not that it was very shocking or useful.

Smitten kept his room at a really weird halfway point between messy and clean.He had handwritten poems and emotional letters strewn all around his desk and windowsill, but the entire area around his bed was spotless, not a stray feather to be seen. It was as if Smitten was trying to look as put together and as perfect as he felt was needed, but his passions and intense bursts of love spilled out into his room. It looked like he was trying to impress someone, but that someone was also making Smitten express himself in the most chaotic way possible.

Opportunist didn't mind it, really.It was nice to be allowed to peer inside the private rooms of his flockmates-most of the others didn't trust him inside their bedrooms, but Opportunist thought they were being overly cautious.He wasn't going to back stab them or anything-just look at him and Smitten!He's been preening his wings for half an hour, and Smitten didn't have a hole in his back yet. He'd say that was all the evidence the others needed.

Smitten hummed lowly as Opportunist straightened a feather that was awkwardly poking out, and the sound made a low heat form in his chest.He wondered if Smitten would keep making sounds like that if he showed him how good at preening Opportunist was.

Opportunist wasn't sure why he even offered to preen Smitten, besides the fact that Smitten was incredibly kind and was never mean or distrusting to Opportunist once.It was just-nice to not have to work so hard to please others.Smitten was so easy to convince that Opportunist was genuinely sweet and innocent, so he never had to perform that much for him.In a weird way, this was the closest thing Opportunist could call a break for himself, to not use one of his many masks so much, even if he was still wearing one.

Smitten just made everything feel lighter-not as important, and Opportunist really liked that.

Opportunist smiled, leaning back to inspect his handiwork."All done!"he announced, and Smitten straightened up, glancing over his shoulder to try and look down at his wings."Really?Oh, thank you Oppy, you are a darling.You took such good care of my precious wings-what a sweetheart you are."

Those words went straight to Opportunist's head, covering his mind with a blanket of warmth he doesn't usually feel.He ducked his head and smiled softly, hoping Smitten didn't notice how his words were affecting him.It wasn't often that Opportunist got complimented, much less for something that he was doing honestly.

Smitten looked over his shoulder, and Opportunist was quick to replace his soft smile for a confident one."May I repay you for your kindness by preening your wings?"

Instinctively, Opportunist's wings tensed up and pressed up against his back.He tried to keep the panic and anxiety out of his voice as he chuckled and said,"Oh, you don't have to do that for me, Smitten."

But Smitten's voice was firm and determined as he responded with,"Yes, but you were kind enough to take some time out of your day to care for me.I'd like to return the favour."

Opportunist shook his head, going,"No need!It's what flockmates are for.Besides, my wings don't need to be preened."Opportunist spread out one wing for Smitten to see, showing the perfect condition they were in.

Opportunist would never let anybody preen his wings.It required too much trust and vulnerability on his part, to turn away from someone and show his back to them.Opportunist wasn't about to put himself in a position where all his feathers could be ripped out in a matter of moments.That's why he made sure to preen them every night by himself in the comfort and safety of his own room.

He felt Smitten slump in defeat as he looked at Opportunist's wings, and said,"They do look lovely right now.You clearly have a talent for taking care of things."

Despite how incorrect Smitten was, Opportunist still flushed at the compliment, quickly folding his wings behind his back so that Smitten didn't see how much his words affected him.

He knew that he needed to leave and compose himself, but Smitten unexpectedly sighed dramatically and leaned back against Opportunist's chest, putting all his weight against him and trapping him to the spot.

Opportunist froze, hands awkwardly hovering in the air, the feeling of Smitten pressed against him making his head spin.Had anyone ever casually leaned against him before?He knows Contrarian does it to anyone near him, but Opportunist wasn't sure if he's ever been a victim of it.

"U-Um-Smitten?Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine,"he replied calmly, lifting a hand in the air to gracefully wave Opportunist's concerns away, "I just wanted to rest with you.Is that alright?"

Was it?"I-I-I guess so."Opportunist was mentally kicking himself for stuttering like that.This was Smitten-there wasn't any way that this fanciful bird was a threat to him.He needed to calm down.

Smitten tilted his head back to meet his eyes, a soft smile on his face as he studied him for a few seconds, and Opportunist tried extremely hard to look as composed and as confident as he usually does.After a few seconds, Smitten hummed in that way he liked and said,"You are very handsome.Did you know that?"

Out went his composure.

"Excuse me?"he squeaked out, feeling his entire face heating up in a way that he knew he couldn't hide-and don't even get him started on his feathers!

He gulped, and laughed lightly, hoping to distract himself from the thumping of his heart.He looked away as he casually said,"What are you talking about?Smitten, you're the prettiest bird in this land. In fact, if you ask me, I think you're the real attraction of this flock by a long shot."He laughed again, hoping to get rid of these damn butterflies in his stomach.

Smitten just continued to silently gaze up at him for a few seconds, before Opportunist saw the moment that Smitten's eyes darkened.

He couldn't explain it-other than it looked like Smitten's face went from soft to sharp in an instant. The usual light twinkle in his eyes were replaced with a hungry and predatory glint that honestly scared Opportunist.

Smitten's voice was low and husky as he said,"You think I don't know the truth about you?"

"What?"Opportunist whispered, all confidence and bravado being ripped away at that voice, and all he could do was helplessly stare as Smitten straightened up to his full height, taller than Opportunist by a few inches.He still stared down at him over his shoulder as he said,"You think I can't feel your heart pounding against my back?"

Before Opportunist had even a chance to try and think about how to take control of this situation, Smitten suddenly twisted around and pushed Opportunist down on the bed, pinning his wrist above his head.

"Hey!Smitten,what's gotten into you?"he fearfully asked, the intensity of Smitten's gaze sending a shiver up his spine, and he couldn't bring himself to look away.

Smitten's smile was somehow still as charming as ever, as he leaned down closer to Opportunist to lowly say,"You can't hide your feelings from me.I know love when I see it, and I know exactly how people react to the things they love."

He leaned in closer, tilting his head slightly as he studied Opportunist, and said in a curious manner, "You, for example, simply love it when people give you attention.When we compliment you or touch you or even look at you for a certain amount of time, I can see the desire for more in your eyes. That's something you can never hide from me."

Opportunist had no idea who he was talking to anymore.This couldn't be Smitten, could it?No, Smitten was the one who loudly declared how he was feeling no matter how early it was.Smitten was the one who insisted on speaking and spending time with everyone almost every day.Smitten was soft and non-threatening, which was why he was always Opportunist's go to bird to speak to.

But was it actually because he liked it when Smitten touched him and complimented him?It was nice to be around Smitten, but he thought that it was because it was easy to be around him.

Smitten chuckled in amusement, moving to be inches away from Opportunist's lips."What a cute little devil you are,"he whispered, before crashing his lips against his.

Opportunist gasped at the intensity of Smitten as they kissed, his mind spinning with nothing but pleasure and a need to keep chasing it-and when Smitten invaded his mouth with his tongue, Opportunist moaned.

It was only made worse when Smitten kept sprinkling in sweet words in-between the kissing. Words such as-'So pretty', 'Gorgeous', and 'Good Oppy.'It erased any mask and performance from Opportunist's mind and left him falling apart, letting a sliver of truth come out-that Opportunist longed to feel like this, to feel wanted and adored for who he was.

They broke apart, panting while still pressing their bodies impossibly closer to each other.Smitten's eyes flicked off to the side for a split second, before he moved his hands up to intertwine them with Opportunist's, and his smile looked dashing and wicked at the same time as he said,"It looks like your wings need to be preened after all."

Opportunist gulped.

[dsireland86]

So i had this idea of Poly Bad Omens x fem reader and maybe the boys start arguing about how they each think they know her style more so then they all decide to buy her a dress or outfit of what they think is her style and have her judge and choose who was closer to her style and maybe Davis and Bryan are just there to watch and laugh

Oh this is a cool idea. For the sake of time, I'm going with a dress and the twist will be the reader hates wearing dresses. Yeah, pretty sure she's might hate them more by the end of the story. 😅Also, I couldn't work too much of the arguing into the dialogue. Made it more of a bickering/squabbling type concept instead. Hope it works!

Her Style

Tag List:

@philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lacy1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @missduffsblog @bngurngheart  @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @dizzylmwahh @kenjipepsi1 @blackveilomens @chey-h @disappearintothegrey @jilliemiw86

Movie night equaled the best night. All six of them, together, watching something either new or a favorite. Y/N was snuggled up in the arms of Noah while her legs and feet rested on Nick's lap. After the shitty ass day she had, Y/N was nothing but happy to be right where she was with Nick lightly rubbing her feet, occasionally glancing over at her and smiling, and Noah holding her a little tighter than usual.

"Bryan and Davis are here," Matt announced, looking at his phone. Sure enough, minutes later the front door opened and closed, and the two remaining members of their family were complete. Davis grabbed some pizza and Bryan opened a soda, sitting wherever there was room.

"The costumes in this movie are amazing," Bryan commented.

"They really are. Y/N could pull off wearing a dress like that," Noah stated, leaning down to kiss her head, but kissed the top of her mouth instead. Y/N looked up at just the right moment, just barely meeting Noah's lips with hers, but it was enough to satisfy her craving somewhat. "Nice one," Noah grinned, lazily. "Are you in a Noah mood tonight," he said, half jokingly. "I'm always in a Noah mood." "Really?" Noah narrowed his eyes, tilting his head to the side. "Really," Y/N answered sweetly.

"No, Y/N would look better in a more breathable dress, one that's like a light creamy cotton with little flowers and lightweight," Folio suggested." "Oh, Folio I think I'd actually wear that one, even though I hate wearing dresses." "Yeah?" Folio cocked a cute smile at her, his sweet brown eyes twinkling with sheer excitement. "Yeah," "Just for me?"

The expression he wore made Y/N melt for him, dissolving every ounce of restraint she had.

"You keep looking at me that way, making my heart race, and I'll do anything just for you," she snickered, squealing the moment Noah's fingers dug into her side. "Hey, I thought you said you were in a Noah mood tonight?" "I was, but that was before Nick looked at me like that," Y/N admitted sweetly, looking up at Noah.

Noah glanced over at Folio who was grinning ear to ear, and shook his head.

"Yeah, I don't see it," Noah denied, "but I don't care how he's looking at you. Tonight, you're mine." "Oh yeah, who says?" Y/N teased, batting her doleful eyes.

Noah's hand traveled down beneath the blanket and right between her legs. Y/N gasped, her body slightly jerking, the moment Noah staked his claim on her for the night.

"Me," he replied, his dark almond eyes boring into her. His lips fell on hers as he kissed her slowly and sweetly, making Y/N forget everything but him.

"You know what would look great on you, baby" Nicholas suggested, keeping his eyes glued to the tv, lost in thought. "One of those wool plaid skirts with a pair of fishnets and a pretty little top to go with it. Put your combat boots on and you'll have me eating out of your hand in no time." "I already have you eating out of my hand, Nicky," she teased, wiggling her toes into his tummy. Nick shifted around in his spot, laughing as Y/N tried her best to tickle him. "Alright, alright," Nick huffed through a laugh, trying to avoid his girlfriend's childish antics. "You do, you really do, okay. I give up," putting his hands up in surrender. "I love you."

Nick's charming smile grew wide.

"I love you too," he replied.

"Hey I got one. I'm thinking our bumblebee could definitely pull off one of those pretty little dresses that girls typically wear in the summer with the big hats, what are they called?" "Um... oh you mean a sundress!" Y/N replied more enthusiastically than a girl who doesn't like dresses should. "Yes, that's it, a sun dress," Jolly smiled, lost in the thought of one. "Like the kind with the really thin straps and go about here," dragging his hand across his shin. "You'd look really pretty in that, Älskling."

Y/N stared at Jolly for a moment, completely enticed by the warmth irradiating from his smile. It was different and she liked it. A lot. Jolly shot her a quick wink before turning back to watch the movie.

"Well, I guess that leaves me to be the dirty mind behind this theory of what dress Y/N would look good in." "Oh, fuck, Y/N cover your ears. Matt's about to get nasty!" Folio cried, throwing pieces of popcorn across the room at him. "Yup, I sure am, because let's face it; most of us know what our little lady's hiding beneath the clothes she wears, and it's hot as fuck." "Nooo!" Y/N cried, covering her face in Noah's arm, pulling the blanket up over her. "Why are you hiding, princess?" Noah laughed lightly, looking under the blanket." "Because." "That's not a good enough answer." "I'm not! Matt's crazy. He's out of his mind!"

Noah's loud laugh was echoed by Nick's.

"No, baby, the only one crazy is you for thinking you're not. How do you think you ended up with all of us?"

Y/N slowly pulled the blanket down and looked around.

"I just got lucky, I guess. You guys are the special ones for seeing what you see in me."

Noah hugged Y/N a little tighter, kissing her on the side of the head. Wrapping her arms around his, she relaxed against him, fixing her eyes on the movie.

"Jolly, you're so freaking ridiculous. I can't believe you stole my idea!" "Hey, it wasn't just me, okay. Matt's not so innocent either," Jolly said defensively.

Noah glared at his sometimes tour manager, but mostly best friend.

"Seriously?" "What?" Matt shrugged, cracking open his can of Dr. Pepper.

Noah shook his head, turning around to refill his coffee, but was only met with two amused sets of faces. Bryan and Davis leaned against the kitchen counter watching all of the drama unfold. Noah's shoulders slumped.

"Don't tell me you're in on it, too," he groaned before setting his cup down.

Brian and Matt both shook their heads.

"Oh, no, we're not! But he is," Davis chuckled, pointing over at Folio. "Okay, to be fair, I was the first one to give a description of a dress. You only told Y/N that she could pull off wearing a dress like whatever it was."

There were mumbled agreements.

"Whatever. You guys do whatever. She'll like mine the best anyway." "What the fuck, Noah! Prideful much?" Matt accused. "No, I just have better taste and know what Y/N likes."

An eruption of grumbles and choice words filled the kitchen.

"What are you all fussing about so early in the morning?" Y/N muttered, sluggishly entering the kitchen. The arguing ceased, as many pairs of eyes followed Y/N over to the coffee pot where she gratefully accepted the cup of coffee Bryan had poured for her. "They're all in a pissy mood," he stated, letting Y/N add the cream and sweetener. "Why? Who peed in their cheerios?" "You did?" "What? What did I do!". "Nothing directly, but you're definitely the protagonist ," Davis added. "So remember that whole dress discussion all of you had the other night? Well, apparently it gave Noah an idea of getting you a dress and the others found out and did the same thing."

Y/N blinked a few times.

"I'm sorry, they did what?" "Each of the guys got you a dress, that's what they did. And the whole morning, Noah's been whining that they stole his idea."

Bryan leaned back, bracing his hands against the kitchen counter.

"Davis and I have been standing here for a while watching the five of them fuss and squabble like a bunch of old ladies."

Y/N sat her coffee cup down, still trying to process what she just heard.

"They remember I hate dresses, right? I mean when was the last time any of you saw me in a dress?"

Bryan and Davis looked at one another and shrugged.

"Never?" "Exactly! I mean what the hell! I don't do dresses. They should know that."

Watching the five guys she loved as much as she did, argue over something so stupid was driving Y/N crazy. It was way too early for it and after the restless night she had, she was willing to do anything to make it stop.

"Okay! Hey! Stop!"

Instantly, the room fell silent. Y/N's voice was stern, like that of a mom scolding her kids and the looks they were giving her were like the kids who just got scolded.

"What is happening right now?" Y/N asked more out of confusion than a need-to-know. "Why are you all arguing?"

No one spoke. Noah kept his eyes glued to the floor from the chair he was sitting in, Jolly stood next to the table with his arms folded over his chest, Nicholas leaned over the end of the countertop with his hands folded together, Matt stood next to Noah with his hands on his hips wearing the most annoyed expression on his face, while Folio leaned against the doorframe between the kitchen and the short hallway staring at Y/N with an amusing yet completely aroused look in his deep brown eyes. A slight smirk laid quietly in the corner of his lips, giving Y/N all the right kind of feelings she was desperate to feel.

Noah stood up and walked over to Y/N.

"I went out yesterday and bought you a dress; one I thought would look really nice on you and was planning on giving it to you today. But then I found out that these clowns went and did the same thing, totally ruining everything."

The fact that Noah was frustrated and irritated was obvious, but as annoying as it all was, Y/N couldn't discredit how perfectly sweet and kind his gesture was. The fact that he wanted to make her feel pretty, valued, appreciated even, melted the anger she felt. Pulling Noah's arms away from his chest, Y/N positioned herself between them and took Noah's sweet face in her hands.

"They didn't ruin anything, love. It was still your idea first and it will stay that way, okay?"

Smiling sweetly up at him, Y/N pulled Noah's face down to meet hers where she captured his lips with hers, pouring all of her gratitude and appreciation into the kiss. Noah pulled her closer to him, crunching up her shirt in his fists.

"I couldn't fucking die happily every time you kiss me like that," he breathed when they let go of each other's lips, but continued holding the other's body. "Feel better?" Y/N lightly laughed, caressing the side of her lover's face. Noah hummed, bringing their foreheads together. "A little." "A little is better than nothing," she smiled, letting him go. "Alright, listen, since all of you got me a dress, which by the way, you all should know I freaking hate dresses, like a lot," she emphasized, turning to Noah, who just shrugged.

"But, since you thought so sweetly of me and took the time to buy one, I will make you a deal. I’ll try each one on and when I'm finished, I'll tell you who I think is the closest to my style and put an end to this stupid conflict.

"What does the winner get? A trophy?" Nick asked. The day dreamy look in his eyes was all too enticing for Y/N.

"Me," she grinned. "The winner gets me in the dress for the entire night."

"Oh my god, what did I agree to," Y/N groaned, sitting on her bed with the five different bags, each of them holding her arch nemesis; the dress. Y/N couldn't put a finger on exactly why she didn't care for dresses like other girls did. There was just something about them that didn't sit well with her.

Breathing heavily, she stood up and undressed to her underwear, pulling the first dress from the bag.

"Wow, okay, this is kinda pretty."

Y/N slipped it on, admiring the knee-length, blue, and white cotton floral sleeveless dress that covered her body. It suited her for a dress. Spinning around, she checked herself a few more times, honestly liking how it looked.

The second was a close maybe; knee-length green rayon with mushrooms and butterflies, puff sleeves and a drawstring bust. It was very airy and cool against her skin. The color was perfect.

The third was a floor length, floral chiffon, dress. It had a banded waist and a sleeveless bodice and was absolutely gorgeous. The moment Y/N slipped it on she felt like a rich diva that belonged on a yacht somewhere in the Caribbean. The flow of the dress matched the feeling of a soft breeze on a warm summer day. It was perfect. But it wasn't her. And for the first time, Y/N realized what it was about dresses that she didn't like. Her. She didn't like how she looked in them.

Sighing, she removed the dress reaching for the next to last bag, pulling out a light green long sleeved, bohemian, country style linen dress, with wild flowers all over the skirt and sleeves. It had a low V-neck that reached the spot right between her breasts and a brown band across the waist. It was perfect. Y/N loved everything about it, and the moment she slipped it on, she knew it was the right one. The question was, who bought it.

Trying on the last one, a deep plum, jersey knit, shin length dress with a brown band, Y/N suddenly found herself in a hard place. She loved all of them. They were all her favorite and choosing just one was going to be tough. But she had to, and she knew just which one it would be.

"The suspense is killing me," Jolly whined, grabbing Y/N by the hand when she walked past him. "Please say it's me," he whispered, grinning from ear to ear at her.

"Mmm, but I can't baby, that wouldn't be fair would it?" Y/N stated, gently pulling her hand away.

Bryan and Davis watched as if in full spectator mode, talking quietly amongst themselves.

"Alright here's the truth of it all," Y/N began, wringing her hands over and over because she was so nervous. She didn't want to hurt any one of their feelings by only picking one dress out of all the pretty choices. "This was a lot harder than I ever thought it would be. Turns out all five of you really know what I like or what you think suits me. I was surprised."

"Well, gee, thanks Y/N, you act like we only use you for one thing," Matt teased.

At first, Y/N wasn't sure if he was joking or not until he smiled, making her heart feel a little lighter.

"I'm kidding. Relax. We both know that's not true."

Y/N smiled and took a breath.

"Okay, so here it goes. Just please remember if your dress isn't in this bag, don't be mad at me. This wasn't an easy choice.

Closing her eyes, she reached into the bag and pulled out the dress, too scared to look at any of the faces surrounding her.

"I know which one it is, but I don't know who it belongs to, because all of you are being too quiet."

Y/N waited for what felt like forever until she could feel the presence of a body standing before her. She wanted to know who it was, but only by a kiss.

"Kiss me," she ordered him. She tilted her head, wanting nothing more than the lips of the man in front of her. She expected the kiss, not his hands to hold her face so gently as he did. The long, cool fingers that almost wrapped around her entire head, cupped her jaws, running the tips of their thumbs over her lips. He laid his lips on hers, kissing her softly, slowly, until it felt like the whole world around them was on fire.

"Open your eyes, princess," Noah whispered, and she did, and god did she love what she saw. The smile gracing his perfect lips, the twinkle in his soft almond shaped eyes, the soft sweet touch of his hands and fingers, all of it was making Y/N succumb to every single thought and desire for Noah that crossed her mind.

"I knew I was right about knowing you the way I do," Noah boasted, taking Y/N's arms and wrapping them around his neck. He lifted her up into his arms, where she wrapped herself tightly around his body, not caring at all where he was taking her as long as they were together.

"I know you inside and out, princess, like the back of my hand," Noah continued, "and how you clench around me when I'm inside you. I know just what to do to you to have you screaming my name and clawing my back, until you make me fill you completely."

Noah placed her on her feet once they were upstairs, where he took her by the hand and led her straight to his room

"How did you know to get that dress for me?"

Noah looked at her for a moment before answering, then slid his hand around the back of her neck.

"Because you like wildflowers. It was the first thing that drew me to it. It reminded me of you; my little wildflower."

Y/N beamed up at Noah. Then taking his hand, she pulled him into the bedroom, ready to fulfill her end of the deal.

[r4fe-cam3ron]

𓍯 ִֶָ FEBRUARY FOURTH; side a — about you - the 1975 | d. lizewski x reader

w; dave & r is aged up (both in their twenties!), ‘old flames’ (really just best friends - who have lost touch but still remember everything about one another - to lovers) reunite, i sort of change the story about his dad (he’s still kick a—!) an; i had to change up his dad’s story about getting beaten </3 for the plot to work. i hope no one minds and everyone enjoys at least!!!!

mixtape here!

Your chin rests in the palm of your hands as your eyes glance around the restaurant, fingers slowly tapping against the table as you let out a small sigh. Leaning back, your eyes look down at your phone to check the time and to see if any messages have suddenly appeared. 

Nothing. And an hour late. 

Rubbing your forehead in embarrassment, you stand from your chair and ignore the looks from the many people who sit together with a stupid little red rose and stupid little candles. 

Slipping on your jacket, you quickly grab your clutch and make your way out of the restaurant without a single word to anyone. It’s eight now, and you’d gotten dressed up for nothing. 

You’re aimlessly walking around now — not quite ready to go home, yet not quite sure where to go either. 

Until you’re met with the sight of the familiar comic shop that you used to go to regularly with friends. You don’t go as much anymore — if you do, it’s strictly for a family member’s birthday or to stop by and get coffee, and maybe look to see what all has changed. 

Which, nothing has. It’s a bit brighter inside with new paint and new lights, but other than that, nothing else has changed. Stepping towards the counter, you smile at the teenager behind it. “One iced caramel latte, please.” 

She nods, putting in the order. “Anything else?” 

Glancing over at the case of pastries, you point at a muffin. “A blueberry muffin as well, please.” The girl nods once again, entering it before telling you the price. Handing over the cash, plus a tip for her being so nice — and for working on the suckiest holiday of the year — you step away after telling her your name. 

You walk slowly around the collection of comics, a small smile pulling at the corner of your lips. You wished you could go back to being a teenage girl — who had been constantly considered ‘weird’ — even if that meant figuring everything out once again. 

Part of you thinks that, maybe, if you would have the chance to go back, there’s a lot more you would’ve changed. Maybe admitted to others. 

The wave of nostalgia almost knocks you off your feet from the nausea it gives you suddenly. Shaking your head, you pick a superhero that you always gravitate towards — Spider-man. 

You pick up your treats from the counter and make your way towards a table, slipping into a booth and laying everything out before opening the comic book. 

You forget how much the silly little things can pull you in — you hadn’t realized the numbness in your legs, or that the ice in your drink had now melted, watering down the coffee and droplets had left a ring around it. 

Or that someone was in front of you. 

“I see you still get pulled into the pages.” 

Startled, you blink a couple of times and quickly look up at the man who stands in front of the table. Lips parting, your heart drops. “Dave?” 

He grins and nods. “The one and only.” 

Laughing slightly, you slip out of the booth and quickly pull him into a hug. “Oh, my god. Look at you!” You pull away, your hands gripping onto his biceps. “Your…hair! It’s gone!” 

He lets out a small chuckle. “And I hit puberty, finally. So you can’t laugh at me anymore about my squeaky voice.” 

You make a face at that. “Sorry about that.” 

“It was all done in fun,” His brow lifts slightly. “Wasn’t it?” 

“What? Of course it was,” You nod quickly, flushing under his gaze. “I’d never intentionally make fun of you.” 

His demeanor slightly falls before he lets out a soft chuckle. “I know that. I was only teasing,” His eyes fell into the red dress that you’d picked out specifically for today. “Hot date?” 

Looking down at the dress, you tug at the material. “No. Stood me up so I just left,” You shrug a bit. “It was embarrassing walking out to say the least.” 

“He stood you up? There’s no way,” He lets out a scoff, crossing his arms over his chest. “Whoever it is, is clearly missing out.” 

“You’re just saying that.” You roll your eyes, collecting your trash so he wouldn’t catch onto the redness that caught your cheeks aflame. 

“I’m being serious!” He watches as you toss the items, picking up the comic book. He follows behind you, lips pursing a bit before clearing his throat. “Let me take you out.” 

You stop abruptly, causing him to stumble into your back, his hands quickly shooting out to stabilize himself on your arms. “What?” 

“Would it be so weird?” He shrugs as you turn to face him. “You’re already dressed up. Plus, we were best friends,” Your eyes drop down to the ground at that. 

“You can let me take you out on one date. Then you can pretend I never exist again.” 

You frown and quickly look at him. “Dave, I could never forget you,” You shake your head, pinching your brows together. “You were…” Trailing off, your heart skips a beat in your chest as your eyes linger on his blue ones. 

“You were special to me. We just…fell out of contact, is all.” 

Dave nods and glances at the comic in your hand. He reaches out and slowly pulls it from your hand, slipping it back into its designated spot before holding his hand. “Then let me take you out. Just this once.” 

Glancing down at his hand, you place yours into his. He smiles and grips your hand softly, pulling you towards the door without a second thought. 

“Where are we going?” You ask, curiously. If he were to lead you blindly into a burning building, you don’t think you would’ve cared. 

He glances over at you, a small smile pulling at his lips as he shrugs. “For me to know.” 

“And for me to find out.” You sigh playfully, shaking your head. He chuckles and comes to a stop. 

“Wait here,” You watch as he jogs back, confused but you do as he had said, looking around at the busy street and sidewalk, smiling a bit at the loud laughter and singing coming from all around. 

Dave comes back five minutes later, hands behind his back. You turn and lift your brows, tilting your head. “Alright…you’re worrying me now.” That has him chuckling. 

He pulls his arm from behind his back, your smile dropping slightly as you stare at the flowers in his hand — that just so happens to be your favorite. 

He clears his throat a bit. “I remember you saying something about liking these. And I needed to start the date off right.” 

“I said those were my favorite in middle school, Dave—”

“Do you…not like these anymore? I can go and—”

You quickly cut him off. “No. I mean, yes. I still love them. I’m just…” You let out a small laugh, truly in awe about how he even remembered such a small detail about you. “I don’t know how you remembered those were my favorite.” 

He scratches at the side of his neck, shrugging. “I just remember.” 

You smile and gently pull them from his grip, the brown paper crinkling in your hands. “Thank you,” You stare at the petals before your eyes lift and meet his. “I can’t remember when the last time I got flowers was.” 

Never. 

The answer was simply never. No boy — or man, now — has stopped to get you flowers as a simple gift. Not that it’s a necessity to bring flowers to a date, but taking the time and showing you care… 

It’s something that, now you can admit, can make a heart skip a beat. 

He smiles softly and nods. “Yeah…” He clears his throat as he pushes his hands into the pockets of his coat. “Of course. Yeah. I just…I thought it’d be nice.” 

“This was very nice,” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip slightly, the action having his blue eyes drop for a second before looking back up. “Well, Lizewski, lead the way.” 

He smiles a bit and nods, beginning to walk down the sidewalk, your feet following beside him. 

After a couple of moments, he stops abruptly and turns towards you, causing your brows to pinch together in confusion as you look over at him. “Are you—”

“Close your eyes,” He nudges his chin towards you. A small playful smile spreads over his lips when he notices how confused you look at the request. “Just do it.” 

“You aren’t going to—”

“No,” He laughs softly, knowing what you were going to ask. Taking a step over to stand in behind you, his hand grazes your arm as he turns you a bit. Sighing, you give in and allow your eyes to slip shut. You suddenly feel his hands covering your eyes as well. 

“Is this really necessary?” 

“Yes,” His voice is soft and your breath hitches from how close he truly is. “Trust me.” 

You’re rendered speechless only for a moment before you quickly nod. “I do.” 

He smiles softly, allowing you to lead the way as you follow his instructions blindly. “…Okay, stop,”

Your movements cease and you feel the warmth of him disappear — slightly disappointed. “Open.” His voice is now coming from your left side. 

Your eyes slowly open, adjusting a bit to the change of lighting. Your lips part in surprise before a smile tugs at your lips. “It’s still here?” You look away from the treehouse, instead looking at Dave. 

He smiles and nods. “Of course,” He motions towards the house he grew up in. “Dad left the house to me in the will.” 

Your smile slowly fades, shoulders dropping slightly. “James died?” 

He nods a bit. “Sadly, that’s the only reason I’m back,” He clears his throat. “But after cleaning everything out and putting the house on the market—”

“You’re not staying?” 

He stares at you for a moment before shaking his head hesitantly. “No. I’m going back home.” 

I’m going back home. 

It’s not much of anything, but the words have your heart twisting in a painful way and your eyes drop towards the flowers as you nod slightly. He would be leaving you — again. 

But you will not be selfish. Even if you want to. 

“Alright, let’s climb up and see what we used to hide away, shall we?” 

Your eyes lift and a small smile pulls at the corner of your mouth but never fully expands to anything more. You nod and walk towards the tree, placing your flowers onto the chair next to it before crawling up the ladder. 

Pushing the door open, you push yourself up and crawl inside before standing and dusting off your legs. Looking around, the wave of nostalgia is suddenly hitting you once again, almost knocking you back onto the ground. 

Stepping closer to the carving you’d once done, your fingers trace over the initials, a small laugh leaving your lips as your head tilts. 

“Oh, god,” You quickly look over your shoulder, noticing the box Dave was holding. “The green and yellow suit.” You let out a laugh when he holds it up, shaking it a bit. 

You cover your mouth when you notice the look he gives you. “Sorry.” You quickly apologize. 

“You laughing at the super suit?” 

“Uh,” You glance at the suit that he holds in his hands once again, before nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.” You let out another laugh. He smiles and rolls his eyes, grabbing the mask from the bottom and tosses the box onto the wooden ground. 

He steps over and tugs it down on your head, grinning. “Mhm,” He nods. “You do look like a dork in this.” 

“Ha-ha. Funny,” You roll your eyes, despite the smile that remains glued onto your face. You tug the mask from your head. He lifts his hands and quickly fixes the strands of hair that had covered your face. 

You gulp quietly, feeling the pad of his thumb brush over your cheek as he does so. “Thanks.” 

He nods and pulls his hands away, now turning and sitting down on the small dusty blanket in the corner. Your face scrunches a bit when he does. 

He pats the spot beside him wordlessly. You make your way over and sit next to him, the mask still in your hands. Thumbing the material, you lean your head back on the wood. 

“Are you still…?” 

He bites his cheek slightly before nodding a bit. “I’ll always be,” His eyes linger on the mask in your hands. “Even if I’m not actively out and saving people like I used to when I was a…teenager — God, a teenager,” 

He lets out a small sound of disbelief as he shakes his head. “A part of that is still with me. No matter how much I kind of wish it wasn’t.” 

You nod in understanding. “You got hurt. A lot.” 

“That I did.” He smirks a bit — though, it’s not an amused one. 

You debate on what you're about to say. Tell him now and regret it later. 

Or never say anything and still regret it. 

Inhaling deeply, you will yourself to calm down before speaking. “I thought that first time — when you went into the hospital and your dad called me — that I had…” You pause. You can feel his eyes on you now, rather than the mask in your hands. 

“But, when I came to visit you, you were okay,” You smiled a bit with a nod. “That calmed me. Then, long story short, I found out why you’d ended up in the hospital,” 

You look over at him. “I remember asking you to stop because I didn’t want you to get hurt or worse,” He nods a bit. “You told me I didn’t understand and I never would. Then, Katie and you became a thing and suddenly…you’d listened to her,”

He frowns and looks away quickly. “I’m not mad about it. I mean, at first I was — because I had been your best friend and I thought maybe you’d listen to me, yet you just kind of shrugged me off. But when Katie asked you, you had no problem with the idea,” You shrug a bit. “I was also just a teenager trying to…navigate my feelings. I got angry at you, more than I probably should have.” 

“You never…told me. Or even showed it.” 

“That’s because I loved you, Dave,” He quickly looks back at you. You give him a weak smile and quickly look away when you feel the upcoming tears suddenly tingle and prick at your eyes. You laugh at yourself airly, shaking your head. “And that was a hard thing to feel because I was so…confused. I had never felt that way towards anyone before,” 

“And I was trying to figure out why I would keep letting you in when you’d get hurt and…” You’re now regretting dredging up the past. Because that’s exactly where it’s supposed to stay — in the past. “And I finally figured out when you had left without even really saying anything to me. Not that you had to, because I understand why you wanted to leave, but it still hurt all the same.” 

Dave blinks a couple of times at your words but remains staring at you as he does so. He clears his throat, mouth opening and shutting a few times before only saying; “You loved me?” 

You nod your head. “Yeah. Of course,” You tuck your hair behind your ear and finally place the mask down on the blanket next to you. “It wasn’t just because I grew up with you, it was just because it was…easy,” You shrug. 

“It was easy to love you and I always thought…” You trail off, eyes cutting towards the side to glance out the small window. 

“Thought what?” He asks softly. 

“I had always thought you and I both would’ve…ended up together,” You lean your head back. “It’s a bit silly now to say, especially when I know you had never viewed me that way back then. It was just the typical white fence, big wedding, two kids, type of dream I had.” 

“Why do you think I never thought of you in the same way?” He shakes his head. 

“Oh, come on,” You let out a small scoff, looking over at him. He genuinely looks confused and you lift your head from the wall. “You had gotten Katie. Katie, Dave. You would’ve never gone after someone like me.” 

“That’s not true,” He sits up, pointing towards you. Your brows lift slightly. “That is so not true. I used to try to get you to go on dates with me all the time.” 

“Asking if I wanted to go to the movies — like we always did, might I add — was not asking me on a date,” You let out a small laugh. “Especially if Todd and Marty were joining,” 

He frowns and looks down. You sigh and drop your hand on top of his. “Dave, it’s okay. Really. It’s over now and—”

“Do you still feel the same?” He cuts you off quickly. You stare at him as if you had imagined him saying it. 

After a moment of silence and a slight, silent urge of lifted brows, you speak. “I-I mean…” You purse your lips, your heart beating in your throat now instead of it staying where it needed to stay. 

“I don’t think loving someone ever comes to an end,” You shake your head. “Especially after loving them for so long.” 

Dave stares at you silently for a moment before surging forward and catching your lips with his, his hands cradling your jaw. The initial shock wears off quickly and your fingers are finally wrapping around his wrist gently. 

He slowly pulls away, still staying close where you could feel his breath brush over your lips and the top of his lip graze your own. 

“Did that just—”

“Yeah.” He cuts you off with a whisper. 

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Teenage me is screaming,” You whisper. He snorts, pressing another soft kiss against your lips before the corner of your mouth. “But you didn’t have to do that.” 

He pulls his forehead away from yours, tilting his head a bit. “I wanted to,” He nods. “I’ve always wanted to. I was just too scared to put myself out on the line for you. But I should’ve.” 

“You should’ve,” You nod, leaning into his hand the remains on your cheek. “Are you still going to leave?” You whisper. His eyes remain on yours, a small smile on his face. 

“I think I found a reason to stay.” 

𓍯 ִֶָ tags; @ali-r3n — @marchsfreakshow — @sstar-ggirl — @pretty-little-mind33 — @love-quinn

𓍯 ִֶָ thank you for reading! comments, reblogs, & feedback are welcome & greatly appreciated!

[getaapologist]

The Tension and the Terror..............Part VIII

Pairing: Emperor Geta x OFC (extremely loosely, character is named but otherwise not described besides hair length in a later part)

Summary: Geta makes a declaration of love. It isn't received well, through no fault of his own.

Warnings: violence, implication of SA (did not occur), 18+ only.

Word Count: 3.4k

Part 8 of 13?

[ Part VII ]

Series Masterlist

A/N: This is a bit more foundation work. I also didn't name Letha's brother (or any of her family) so you can picture whoever you want. I almost took all this out, I wasn't sure it fit everything I've written up to now, but I hope it works for you.

Raptio is literally "taking," but it's used to reference the abduction of women, to be used/enslaved or married against their will. The obvious implication there is SA, but I am not including that aspect here because it's just not needed. Being kidnapped is enough, surely. I don't know if it was really a punishable crime, but I sure hope so. It is in this version of events, anyway. The next two parts will pretty much be all Geta. Thanks for your patience!

Letha had beaten both Emperors to breakfast that morning, despite spending extra time in choosing a dress from the assortment delivered to her rooms the prior day. The anticipation of seeing Geta again drew her out of bed early. She took advantage of the quiet to actually eat a reasonable meal, only interrupted as she pushed the small plate away. 

“My brother dismissed all his concubines this morning. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” Caracalla wasn’t really asking. He already knew she had something to do with it. Still, the news shocked her. She thought of Lyra, regretting her words. She hoped nothing awful had happened.

“I didn’t ask him to–”

“Of course you didn’t. You can’t tell us to do anything,” he sighed, pulling out his usual chair and plopping down in it. “Just thought you’d like to know.”

Letha took it for the kindness it was. “Thank you, Caracalla.”

He reached out and picked through the fruit, mischief lighting his eyes up. “So does this mean you two are fucking?”

She nearly choked. “N-No,” she responded, recovering, face on fire.

Caracalla giggled. She avoided looking over at him, instead choosing to study the elaborate craftsmanship of the table. It was a nice table, she thought, desperately trying to not think about Geta.

The chair beside Letha was pulled out and the man himself sank into it, a sly smile already on his face as he busied himself with adjusting his robes. He was all made up, ready for the day. Bright, shining, like Apollo. 

He leaned over, invading Letha’s space. “Did you get enough to eat?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” she assured him. She was nervous to meet his eyes again after the way she left him. She was relieved he didn’t seem upset with her, quite the opposite. 

Protective?

“How is your shoulder?”

“Better,” she answered. 

She noticed Caracalla watching his brother intently. She followed his gaze, surprised to see the dark maroon already lining his eyes. She expected to see the tired, fresh-from-bed version of Geta. This was… It was nice. 

“You sure look pretty for the senators, brother,” Caracalla teased.

Geta looked down to Letha, his gaze soft for once. “It’s not for them.” The smile returned. Her face probably felt hot to the touch. She almost pressed her own hand to her face to check. 

“Why do I even have to go?” Caracalla whined, slumping in his chair. “Can’t you tend to them by yourself?”

Geta looked over at his brother, his smile growing. “It’s our duty.” He picked up an apple and took a bite, his pleasant mood almost infectious. 

“I’ve never seen you so eager to fulfill our duty,” Caracalla grumbled. 

“You must get ready, ‘Calla,” Geta requested, his tone gentle. “It shouldn’t be a long meeting. Then you can have your games.” Another bite of the apple.

Geta was always so sweet to his brother. Letha couldn’t come up with a better word for it. Taking the sting out of responsibilities, soothing his panic and fear, distracting him with life’s pleasures to ease his mood. He tolerated his teasing, even when his patience had run out for all others. Caracalla was exempt from Geta’s poor moods. He only ever received a tiny fraction of Geta’s ire when his mouth got away from him and he seemed on the verge of revealing something in other company that Geta wished to remain private. 

And Caracalla intuitively understood his brother’s shifting moods and their cause, not usually having to ask him what was wrong, what might be bothering him. Perhaps all that time seated beside his brother he became a good study. 

“At least Letha will keep me company,” Caracalla smiled.

“The senators might balk at her presence,” Geta admitted.

“Since when do you care?”

“I don’t,” Geta claimed, glancing down at Letha. “She can come if she wants to.”

“Is she not here for my protection?” Caracalla asked, seemingly concerned.

“I’ve arranged for Tegula’s best man to remain at your side, at all times,” Geta explained, gesturing to a lightly armored man standing in the corner of the room, tucked in among the columns as if he was trying to be inconspicuous. “This is Ancus.”

Caracalla looked over at the man. Then back to his brother, to Letha. To Geta again. “But I don’t want Ancus, I want Letha,” Caracalla complained, something in his tone veering towards true agitation.

“She’s still healing, ‘Calla,” Geta explained. “She will be near, but I would feel better if Ancus stayed with you too, at least until we figure out who’s responsible for these attacks.”

“You just want her for yourself!” Caracalla accused, standing from his chair. Geta mirrored his movement, albeit much more slowly.

“Caracalla, I—” he paused, adopting a more gentle tone before continuing, “I will not keep her from you. She can do as she pleases. I just need to know that you are safe.”

His words seemed to soothe him enough, but Letha worried that this would not be the last of this conversation. Caracalla skulked off, and Ancus followed after him silently. 

Geta sank back into his chair with a sigh, his mood no longer nearly as pleasant.

“I will spend time with him today,” Letha offered, broaching the silence. 

He leaned his head back, his head turning in her direction lazily, a smirk appearing. “Not too much, I hope.”

“As much as is necessary to preserve his good temper,” she answered, the pressure of his warm eyes on her jump-starting that heat again, as if she were back in the gardens again, frozen beneath his stare.

“Oh, but then I’d never see you, Letha,” he teased, moving closer, “and I have more to offer you.”

“More?” She couldn’t help her eyes falling to his lips.

She jumped in her seat as his fingers found the skin along the inside of her leg, just past her knee, too close for where they were, in the middle of the dining hall. She quickly pressed her hands to his, trapping it against her skin. He squeezed.

He leaned over further, his lips finding her ear. “Just something for you to consider today, when you’re… deciding how to allocate your time.” His teasing was back in full force. He drew back, taking another bite of the apple, his stare unwavering as he chewed.

Letha could only watch him right back, thoughts boiling until her legs stopped shaking and she could stand.

Letha understood Caracalla’s complaints about having to meet with the Senators almost immediately. She could feel their eyes on her as soon as she stepped into the room, following behind the twins as they made their way over to their thrones, side by side. 

“A chair,” Geta summoned, pointing to the space beside his seat.

“By me, brother,” Caracalla insisted. 

Geta frowned, but relented.

Letha was sure to reach down and brush the hand gripping the arm of his seat with her fingers as she passed around the chairs, a consolation to try to keep him jovial. She took a seat as instructed, body turned in towards Caracalla in the presence of so many strangers, with clear distaste in their expressions for her unconventional presence.

“Caesars, forgive me, but what is this woman doing here? This is hardly the place for a dalliance—”

Geta rose, the speed of it startling some, Letha included. “She is a lady, and you will address her as such,” he corrected, standing before the bravest of the Senators. A display of power, of confidence. Of ego. “That lady is the reason your Emperors still stand and breathe. I believe you owe her an apology.”

He was incensed. Part of Letha almost felt bad for the Senator cowering before Geta, all his fury and splendor making him appear very much like a god. It shouldn’t have been so thrilling to see, but Letha couldn’t help herself.

“I am sorry, my lady,” he spoke, his eyes on Geta. His fear was palpable. 

Caracalla giggled beside her. “It’s not usually this entertaining.”

A few more moments of lording over the senator and Geta stepped back, slightly more composed. “What do you need of us today?” Geta finally asked, sinking back into his seat.

An older senator stood, stepping into the middle of the room, drawing Geta’s gaze. “There was a question of increasing your personal guard’s wages, Caesars?”

“Yes,” another stood, “We do have questions as to the… necessity of this. It is a steep price.”

Geta frowned. “Is our safety not worth the extra expense? We’ve had two attacks in as many days.”

“Well, perhaps if you did not hold such lavish dinner parties every night, the costs could go towards this increase you desire.”

“Senator Gracchus,” Geta smiled, standing. “I will remind you that we have not yet found the person responsible for bribing the Praetorian. Someone wishes us dead.”

Letha froze up in her seat. Yes, someone did. But they were looking in the wrong place. 

“The sum recovered was far too large for an average citizen to come up with,” Geta explained, circling the senator. All others had backed off, allowing all of Geta’s displeasure to focus in on Gracchus. “Should I have you interrogated? Or will you pay Tegula’s men what they are owed?”

A moment longer was all it took before Gracchus wavered, relenting. “They shall have it, Emperor.” A chorus of similar responses sounded throughout the room.

“Very good,” Geta praised, moving past the senator and reclaiming his seat. “What else?”

The doors at the back of the room opened and a tall, hulking figure clad in dark armor and a red cape strode in, bowing before the emperors before rising to his full height. The garish line across the side of his head still looked like it burned, the flesh vividly red around the line. The cut ear.

Letha recognized him immediately. She shrank in her seat, drawing Caracalla’s eye. A flash of her brother’s bruised and bloody face had her squeezing her eyes shut. It wasn’t enough, the image wouldn’t leave.

“Emperor Geta, Emperor Caracalla,” the general greeted. “I have come to report on my men.” He did not spare a glance to Letha. Either he mistook her for another of their concubines, or did not spend enough time in the Senate chambers to know how unusual her presence was. 

“General Plautianus,” Geta greeted. His eyes raked over the violent wound. “What of them?”

“Regrettably, they cannot seem to be contained,” Thraex interjected, eyes on the General as he got to his feet. “They drink the city dry and commit acts of violence upon its citizens. A brawl in a brothel just yesterday required a hefty discretionary payment to appease the owner so he didn’t ban the entire army.”

“They need to be sent away,” Gracchus agreed. “They are bored, and their victories have given them a feeling of entitlement to the city’s offerings.”

Oh, that sounds quite familiar, Letha frowned. So as long as it isn’t taking place in Rome, that’s what matters, she thought bitterly, sinking back into her memories and tuning out the rest of the conversation. 

“Your God-Emperors are cowards,” Letha’s brother spoke, his lip split, his brow leaking blood. His eye socket looked broken, his skin beginning to darken around his eye. 

“You should hold your tongue,” General Plautianus spat, stepping past the man crumpled against the wall. Another soldier knelt beside him, gripping the cloth covering his shoulders tightly, keeping him upright.

“You Romans can’t take a joke,” he laughed. It devolved into a coughing fit not long after, his hands going to his ribs as he grimaced.

Letha looked up, worry filling her as she waited for her brother to recover, desperately trying to figure out how to help him, how to get them out of this mess.

“You should stop talking before you choke on your blood,” another soldier threatened.

“You’d have to hit me a bit harder for that,” he grunted, clearly nursing a broken rib.

“Brother, please!” Letha pleaded, begging for him to be silent. Him egging on their captors would ruin their chances of surviving this night. 

The sound of the harsh slap cut through the room, almost echoing. For a moment Letha couldn’t feel her face at all. Then it all flooded in at once, tears welling, clouding her vision.

She could hear her brother shouting, the soldiers joining in. She tried to ignore the way her cheek stung, too concerned for her brother’s welfare to care about her own. It was one blow versus the great many he’d suffered at their hands already. 

They were holding him down against the wall, it took two of them now. The General stood before her, his hand still outstretched from the slap, though his eyes were cast over his shoulder at her brother as he spouted insulting, angry words.

“You are lucky you’re considered one of Rome’s subjects now,” the General spoke, returning his attention to Letha. “Your dear father pleaded for your safety, and I can think of none better to secure it than me.”

Letha understood his intent, the implication of his words. It was nothing new. It was all men ever did. She couldn’t be dragged to Rome. She refused. As her brother drew his attention once more, his protests much more spirited, she saw only one opportunity to save herself from that future. 

She reached forward and drew the sword from its hilt on his belt, the sound of it drawing all attention to her. It was heavier than she was used to, the blade much wider. Still, she didn’t waste a moment, swinging it recklessly at the General’s head. It drew blood, but the recoil of it hitting his thick skull forced it out of her hands. He roared, his hands moving to cover the red line leaking blood down the side of his head. 

Letha felt the stabbing point of a gladius at her back, the soldier’s boot forcing her flat onto the floor. She wondered if it had drawn blood, it felt quite sharp even through the dress. Even if she had just signed her own death warrant, that would be preferable to the alternative.

Plautianus hissed as he cupped his ear, reaching down for his discarded sword. He used it to tilt her face up, forcing her to see the wound she’d created. “You’ll pay for that,” he assured her.

“Please, just leave her alone,” her brother pleaded. “It was stupid, she shouldn’t have done it, but don’t hurt her.”

His words stung. He was right, it was incredibly stupid of her, but she had to do something–

“No, no–”

The blade had left her chin without her realizing it. It was embedded in her brother’s throat. She screamed.

“Letha,” Caracalla whispered, a hand pressing against her cheek, drawing her back to the present. “Are you alright?” She jumped, crashing out of the vivid memory. He moved his hand down to squeeze hers. “Do you want something to drink?”

She shook her head, eyes landing on Plautianus. He wore the very same armor as that day. 

He is the monster.

“I will think on it,” Geta answered, dismissing the senators. “General, I would like to speak with you, if you have the time.” He wasn’t really asking.

Plautianus nodded, clasping his hands together in front of him, watching the senators as they trickled out of the room. As his eyes scanned the room, they finally landed on her. There was a flicker of recognition in his eyes and he reflexively reached up for the side of his head, to the scar there. He said nothing of it, instead returning his attention to his smiling Emperor.

“Letha,” Geta called out, reaching an arm out for her to join him. Her stomach sank like a stone. “Come on,” he urged, as if he were coaxing a small child into a room full of strangers. As if it were shyness keeping her in her seat. But he didn’t know. How could he know?

She stood on shaky legs and released Caracalla’s hand to walk over, trying to keep her eyes on Geta so she didn’t fall into a state of panic. Even though months had passed, it was now so fresh in her mind, as if it had happened only days ago. She felt ill.

Geta was concerned, but he hid it well. He wrapped an arm around her waist and returned his attention to the General. 

“I’d like to introduce you to Letha,” Geta spoke, looking down at Letha with something close to love in his eyes. Perhaps she was imagining it to save herself from the reality of what was unfolding.

“I don’t believe you two have met, unless… Well, have you?” Geta prodded, all pretense falling away. 

Letha felt herself suck in a deep breath at the realization. Geta knew. How much, she couldn’t say. But he knew of their meeting, likely how she was brought to Rome. How she was purchased by Macrinus. From Macrinus himself, she thought. It would explain their new closeness. What else had Macrinus shared?

General Plautianus seemed just as caught off guard. He looked like he wasn’t sure if he ought to lie, or admit to his crime. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Geta frowned. “Ancus,” he muttered, signaling for him to approach. 

Ancus moved swiftly behind the General, pressing his boot into the back of Plautianus’s knee to force him onto the marble, his hands gripping the pauldrons to keep the General still.

“Raptio,” Geta spat, “is a crime, General. Just in case you’ve forgotten.”

The sound of a sword being drawn sent shivers of revulsion down Letha’s spine. The tremors that Geta had stilled with his hand at her lower back resumed. The General looked truly frightened. It didn’t fill Letha with any amount of satisfaction. She was just as scared as he was.

Geta raised the General’s sword high so he could inspect the edge, trying to determine its sharpness. He pressed the blade to the spot just above the chestplate, letting the tip bite through the cloth covering the base of his throat before turning to Letha, ignoring the General altogether.

“Should he be killed?”

Letha could see now the warnings she’d been given. Geta was deadly. He was clever and vengeful and violent. But he hid it well. So well. Much better than Caracalla. Seeing the senators scared to defy him, the way his General seemed scared of his whims, she should’ve been scared of him too. 

But it was never directed at her. And even now, it was being done in service of her desires, her wants. She felt… honored. He was offering her a gift. A declaration of love if looked at in the right light. 

She felt her own love for him beginning to bud, but her memories were too distracting in the moment, keeping her expression empty, her body trembling. If they were somewhere else, she might have taken the time to explain, so he’d understand she wasn’t spurning him intentionally, she just couldn’t get a handle on her own mind.

“Emperor!” Plautianus lifted his hands up from his waist, his plea desperate. “T-This is improper.” 

Geta glowered down at him, his eyes narrowed. 

“She attacked us,” he tried to explain. Ancus kept his knees pressed to the floor.

“Quiet!” Geta ordered, glaring at the General. He returned his eyes to Letha’s, his gaze softening immediately.

In that moment all Letha could do was stand there and try to keep her tears at bay. 

Was this the same sword used on her brother?

Geta was patient, reading into the way she shook slightly, a bead of sweat falling down over her temple. She was terrified. Perhaps now wasn’t the best time. He could drag him out again later on, when she felt more up to it.

“It seems Justicia has saved you today, Plautianus. Find solace in your cell.”

The sword was silently returned to Ancus and as soon as it left Geta’s hand he brought her back in close, whisking her away from the scene and over to the golden thrones. 

“Brother?” Caracalla asked, clearly confused.

“I will explain later,” Geta spoke, his eyes focused on Letha. His hands found her cheeks, attempting to soothe her. “I should not have sprung that upon you,” he realized. 

“I-I do not think–I think I should lie down,” she confessed, a tear spilling down her cheek. She could see the heartbreak plain in Geta’s eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can attend the games today, I don’t feel well.”

“It’s fine,” Geta assured her, smoothing her hair out of her face. “I should have warned you.”

She couldn’t say anything more, couldn’t offer some placating remark to soothe his mood. She needed calm and quiet, and she wouldn’t get that from the arena. She hoped he understood that.

[ Part IX ]

[arivsxq]

meddle about chapter 6

pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Theme: strangers to lovers, angsty shit

Warnings: smut, hookup, fwb, maybe slow updates

Word count: 3,8k+

Songs: Meddle about - Chase Atlantic

Heartbeat - Childish Gambino

A/N: Hey guys, it's been over a week but I'm back. I have some struggles in my private life that might affect the uploads but I try my best to post regularly. This chapter is a bit short but don't worry I'm working on a longer one. Right now chapter 7 has 6k words. I might post it this week or next, we'll see but til then I hope you'll enjoy this one<3

A whole week had passed since we both agreed on the whole friends-with-benefits thing. And to be honest, the weirdness in the air faded really quickly, but we also didn't get intimate the whole time, so I couldn't quite tell how long the weirdness would be gone. At least I had the time to start all over with my art project and make it watchable this time.

At the weekend, everyone was busy studying for the upcoming exams, while I had to attend another soul-sucking event my parents wanted me to. This time, I kept my mouth shut and didn't speak unless I had to. This was the first night after a long time my parents didn't call me the biggest disappointment. It felt nice. Too nice for my liking. I wasn't used to them behaving this way, but I also wasn't used to me behaving like they wanted me to behave.

I kept my back straight and my smile polite as I stood among a crowd of well-dressed people who spoke in clipped, rehearsed tones. The event hall was grand, with chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, the scent of expensive perfume and champagne thick in the air. My parents were busy socializing, shaking hands with people I barely recognized, people who pretended to care about each other's achievements while secretly competing for who had the best success story to flaunt.

I hated these events. Always had.

But after hours of suffering, I was driven home by the driver of my parents, and for the first time, I felt like I wasn't a burden to them. Maybe it was my fault all along, and I was being childish and overdramatic. Maybe this was what I had to do the whole time, keep my mouth shut and do what they wanted me to for a few hours. I mean, that's the least I can do, right?

A few days later, I was sitting in the campus library, attempting to shove an entire semester's worth of knowledge into my already exhausted brain.

Spoiler alert: it wasn't working.

I stared blankly at my notes, the words blurring together into an indecipherable mess. Art history. Movements, techniques, dates. Normally, I found some level of interest in it, but today, everything felt dull and suffocating. Probably because my brain was still preoccupied with thoughts I didn't want to have.

Thoughts about that stupid event. About how easy it had been to be the daughter my parents always wanted. About how it had made me feel, lighter, in a way, but also... less. I hated that I was still thinking about it. It wasn't a big deal. I did what I had to do. That was life, right?

I sighed, rubbing my temples. Focus. I needed to focus. I had exams coming up. Real-life problems that needed my attention. The chair across from me scraped against the floor, and before I even looked up, I knew who it was.

Jungkook.

Because of course, the universe wasn't going to let me sit in peace and overthink my existence in solitude.

He plopped down, a lazy grin tugging at his lips as he leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "You look miserable for someone who is a bit overdressed."

I shot him a flat look. "That's because I am miserable."

He snorted, peeking at my notes. "Cramming last minute?"

"No, I just love spending my free time reading about 18th-century brush techniques."

Jungkook smirked. "Sexy."

I rolled my eyes. "Why are you here?"

He shrugged. "Felt like annoying you."

Of course he did.

I sighed, tapping my pen against my notebook. Jungkook had an annoying talent for making me forget whatever I was brooding about, and as much as I wanted to stay in my little bubble of self-pity, part of me was relieved he was here.

"Did you even study?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

He leaned back, stretching his arms over his head. "Nope. Just gonna wing it."

I groaned. "You can't just wing it. These exams are-"

"Relax, I'll be fine." He tilted his head, studying me for a second. "You, on the other hand, look like you might explode."

"That's because I might explode."

He chuckled, and then his gaze softened slightly. "Still thinking about the event?"

I hesitated. I hadn't told him much, just the basics. That it had been suffocating. That my parents had, for once, not looked at me like I was a letdown. I hadn't told him the part where I wasn't sure how I felt about it.

Jungkook sighed, leaning forward again. "Look, I know you want them to see you. Really see you. But don't lose yourself trying to be someone you're not."

I swallowed. "I'm not."

He raised an eyebrow.

I exhaled sharply. "I just... I don't know. Maybe I make things harder than they have to be."

Jungkook studied me, then reached over, plucking my pen from my hand. "Let's take a break."

I frowned. "I can't."

"Yes, you can." He smirked. "Come on, let's go get food. You're going to fail your exams and die of stress at this rate."

I stared at him, my mind warring between wanting to be responsible and knowing he was right.

Finally, I sighed. "Fine."

His grin widened. "Knew you'd see reason."

On our way out, we nearly crashed into Namjoon, who looked like he was one all-nighter away from complete collapse. His arms are stacked with books, thick ones, the kind that makes you reconsider your entire life's choices, and the dark bags under his eyes suggest he hasn't seen the sun in days. He doesn't even seem to notice us. Or anyone, really. Just a man and his books, locked in an academic death match.

"Dude," Jungkook says, stepping aside before Namjoon accidentally bulldozes through him. "Blink twice if you're alive."

Namjoon blinks exactly zero times.

I tilt my head, eyeing his precariously stacked tower of textbooks. "Do you need help?"

Namjoon finally registers our existence, blinking blearily like he's just now remembering the concept of human interaction. "No, no, I'm good," he mutters, adjusting the books in his grip. One slides dangerously close to the edge, and I instinctively reach out, steadying it before it topples.

"You sure?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

He sighs, clearly not sure, but Namjoon being Namjoon, he nods anyway. "Just... finals. You know how it is."

Jungkook smirks. "Can't relate."

I shoot him a look. "That's because you have the study habits of a cockroach."

Jungkook shrugs, entirely unbothered. "Hey, cockroaches survive everything."

Namjoon barely reacts, just exhales tiredly. "I should go. Still have three chapters to get through before my next class."

Jungkook looks as if he saw a dinosaur. "Is this some rich kid stuff?"

"Jungkook...that's called studying," I say with zero emotion.

He lifts his arms in a motion that makes me read his mind. "no need to get personal" would his exact words be.

After giving him a not-so-friendly look, he speaks again, "And when was the last time you slept?"

Namjoon pauses as if actually having to dig through his brain for the answer. That in itself is concerning.

I cross my arms. "Namjoon."

"Technically, I napped for twenty minutes on my desk," he says as if that's supposed to reassure me.

Jungkook grins. "Damn. That's worse than you, Y/N."

I ignore him. "Namjoon, you're going to pass out if you keep this up."

"I can't fail this class," he says, almost desperately. "If I don't-"

"Yeah, yeah, your entire academic career crumbles, and life as you know it ends," Jungkook deadpans. "We get it."

I shoot him another glare before turning back to Namjoon. "At least eat something," I insist. "We're getting food. Come with us."

Namjoon hesitates, glancing at his books like they might get up and walk away if he abandons them for too long.

Jungkook nudges him. "Come on, brainiac. You'll study better if you're actually conscious."

Namjoon sighs, rubbing a hand over his exhausted face. "Fine. But only for a little bit."

"See?" Jungkook grins, throwing an arm around Namjoon's shoulder as we walk out. "This is why we're friends. We save you from yourself."

Namjoon just groans. "I already regret this."

I laugh. "Too late."

***

Another few days had passed, making today a Friday. Normally, I would be happy, but I knew I would be studying the whole weekend without any break.

Or so I thought.

By the time the evening rolled around, my brain was already fried from staring at the same notes all day. My eyes felt like they were going to melt out of my skull, and the idea of spending another two days like this made me want to throw myself into oncoming traffic.

I sighed, stretching my arms over my head when my phone buzzed on my desk.

Jungkook: Get dressed. We're going out.

I frowned at the screen.

Me: No.

Jungkook: Yes.

Me: I have exams, and you too, idiot.

Jungkook: And you also have a life. Come on, just a few hours. You're going to fail if you burn out.

He wasn't wrong. Not that I was about to admit that.

Me: Where?

Jungkook: That's the spirit. I'll be outside in 10.

I groaned, rubbing my hands down my face. Was I really doing this? Was I really going to let Jungkook drag me out when I should be knee-deep in revision?

Apparently, yes.

With minimal effort, I threw on something decent, not bothering too much because, knowing Jungkook, we weren't going anywhere fancy.

When I stepped outside, he was already there, leaning against his bike like he had all the time in the world. He whistled when he saw me. "Hot."

I rolled my eyes. "This is a bad idea."

"Probably." He tossed me a helmet. "Come on."

I hesitated for exactly two seconds before sighing and climbing on behind him.

Jungkook didn't tell me where we were going, which should've been a red flag, but at this point, I was too tired to fight him. The city lights blurred past as we sped through the streets, the cool air against my skin waking me up more than caffeine ever could.

Eventually, we stopped in front of a small but crowded bar tucked between two buildings. The neon sign flickered slightly, and I could already hear the bass of whatever song was playing inside.

I raised an eyebrow. "Really? A bar? Again? This won't end up well."

Jungkook shrugged. "Thought you could use a drink."

I gave him an exhausted look. "Jungkook."

"It'll help, I promise."

I sighed. "Fine. One drink."

Inside, the place was packed with students who had also clearly given up on pretending to be responsible. The music wasn't deafening, but it was loud enough that conversations had to be spoken close. Jungkook led us to a booth in the corner, ordering drinks without even asking me what I wanted.

Minutes later, I was nursing a cold glass in my hands, already feeling some of the stress slipping away. Maybe Jungkook was onto something. Maybe I did need a break.

That's when I saw him.

Across the room, leaning against the bar, talking to some girl with an easy smirk. My ex. The ex who had fucked my so-called "friend" behind my back.

My stomach twisted. Because of course, of all places, of all nights, he had to be here too.

Jungkook followed my gaze, then leaned in slightly. "You okay?"

I swallowed, forcing a small smile. "Yeah. Totally."

Lies. Jungkook didn't look convinced. His eyes flickered between me and the scene unfolding across the bar, where my ex was now leaning in, whispering something in the girl's ear that made her giggle. My grip tightened around my glass.

"Want me to punch him?" Jungkook asked casually, taking a sip of his drink. He didn't know who this guy was, but he could tell that something had happened between us.

I snorted. "Tempting. But no."

He hummed, tilting his head. "I could just trip him on his way to the bathroom. Real subtle."

"Jungkook."

"What?" He shrugged. "Assholes deserve consequences."

I sighed, forcing myself to look away. I was over it. Or at least, I was supposed to be. It had been months since the breakup, and I had no business still feeling anything about it. But seeing him now, so unbothered, so fine, yeah, it stung.

Maybe it was less about him and more about the fact that I had spent so much time feeling like shit while he got to walk around acting like he never did anything wrong. Like I never even mattered.

"Hey," Jungkook said, nudging my knee with his. "You want to leave?"

I thought about it. I thought about bolting out the door, about locking myself in my room and pretending I never saw him. But then I imagined him seeing me do that. Imagined him thinking I still cared enough to let him ruin my night.

"No." I squared my shoulders. "I'm fine."

Jungkook watched me for a beat, then smirked. "Then let's make him uncomfortable."

I frowned. "What?"

But before I could fully process what was happening, Jungkook was moving closer, slinging an arm over the back of the booth behind me. His fingers brushed against my shoulder as he leaned in, his breath warm against my ear.

I tensed. "Jeon-"

He grinned. "Relax. Just making sure he sees you having a great time."

I rolled my eyes, but the corner of my mouth twitched. "You're ridiculous."

"Maybe." His smirk widened. "But you're smiling now."

Damn it. He was right.

And, because the universe has a twisted sense of humor, when I finally let myself relax, when I finally let Jungkook distract me, that's when my ex noticed us. I felt it before I saw it. That shift in the air, the weight of an unwelcome gaze settling on me.

Slowly, I turned my head, meeting his eyes across the bar.

His smirk faltered. His jaw tightened.

And I, just to be petty, leaned into Jungkook's touch, tilting my head slightly as I laughed at something he whispered in my ear.

My ex's expression darkened.

"Alright," Jungkook murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. "Now this is fun."

I took a slow sip of my drink, my eyes still locked with my ex's. His date was saying something to him, but he wasn't listening anymore. His focus was on me.

Jungkook chuckled, a low and amused sound. "He looks like he just bit into a lemon."

"Good," I muttered.

Jungkook tilted his head. "Want to really piss him off?"

I turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "What exactly are you suggesting?"

He smirked. "Come dance with me."

I hesitated. That was a dangerous idea. Jungkook was already dangerously attractive, and if we danced, really danced, there was no way my ex wouldn't take notice.

But wasn't that the whole point?

"Fine," I said, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the dance floor before I could overthink it.

The music pulsed around us, the bass vibrating through the floor. The crowd moved as one, bodies pressed close, the air thick with heat and energy. Jungkook pulled me into him, his hands settling low on my waist as he moved to the beat.

"You sure you can handle this, Kook?" I teased, wrapping my arms around his neck.

He grinned. "You have no idea."

And then he really started dancing. Smooth, fluid movements that had me pressed flush against him, his hands guiding my hips in sync with his own. It was effortless, natural, the kind of chemistry that made the whole room fade away.

I knew my ex was watching. I felt his stare burning into my skin. And then, because I was feeling bold, reckless, and petty, I tipped my chin up, brushing my lips against Jungkook's ear.

"Kiss me," I whispered.

Jungkook stilled for half a second. Just a half second. Then his hands tightened on my waist, and he pulled me in, crashing his lips onto mine.

It wasn't soft. It wasn't careful. It was heat and tension and something electric. His fingers dug into my hips, pulling me closer, and I let out a sound I swore was just for effect. But then he deepened the kiss, one hand sliding up my back, and suddenly I wasn't thinking about my ex anymore.

I was only thinking about him.

The crowd pressed around us, bodies moving, music pounding, but all I could feel was Jungkook, his touch, his breath, the way he kissed me like he meant it.

When we finally pulled away, I was breathless. Jungkook's eyes were dark, unreadable, his chest rising and falling.

"Well," he murmured, lips ghosting against mine. "That should do it."

I blinked, momentarily forgetting what it even was. But then I caught a glimpse of my ex storming toward the exit, and I smirked. Maybe this whole friends with benefits wasn't a bad thing after all. To be honest, this man can kiss, and holy shit, the things I would do to feel these lips again.

"Mission accomplished."

Jungkook laughed, shaking his head. "You're trouble."

I shrugged. "You knew that already."

He hummed, eyes dropping to my lips. "Yeah. But I think I like it."

Jungkook's eyes flickered to my lips again, his tongue darting out to wet his own like he was contemplating something. My heart was still hammering against my ribs, my skin buzzing in a way that had nothing to do with the alcohol. And the worst part? I didn't want it to stop.

"Wanna get out of here?" Jungkook murmured, his voice low, intimate, just for me.

I should have said no. I should have laughed it off, pushed him away, made some joke to diffuse whatever the hell was happening between us.

But I didn't.

Instead, I nodded. "Yeah. Let's go."

His smirk deepened, and before I could second-guess myself, he was grabbing my hand and leading me through the throng of people. I barely registered the bodies we brushed past, the music pounding in my ears. My focus was only on him, the warmth of his hand, the way his grip tightened slightly like he was making sure I wouldn't change my mind.

Outside, the cool night air hit me like a slap, sobering but not enough to shake off the way Jungkook was looking at me. Like I was something he wanted to devour.

"So..." he drawled, leaning against his bike, watching me with that lazy smirk. "What now?"

I swallowed. I should go home. I should get back to my notes, to my exams, to my sanity. But I wasn't thinking straight. I stepped closer, reaching for his jacket, fingers curling around the fabric. "Take me home." His smirk faltered for just a second, his dark eyes searching mine. And then—

"Yeah," he exhaled, voice rough. "Okay."

The ride back was a blur. I barely felt the wind against my skin, and barely noticed the city lights flashing past. All I could focus on was the warmth of Jungkook's body in front of me, the way my arms were wrapped around his torso, my fingers clutching at his shirt.

By the time we reached my place, I was already breathless. I slid off the bike, turning to face him. He didn't move, just sat there, watching me like he was waiting for me to say something.

"Come inside," I said before I could stop myself.

His eyes darkened. "You sure?"

I nodded.

He killed the engine, swung his leg over, and followed me inside without another word. The door had barely clicked shut before he was on me. His hands were everywhere, gripping my waist, sliding up my back, threading into my hair as his lips crashed onto mine again, hungrier this time. I gasped against his mouth, my fingers tugging at his jacket, and he groaned, deep and low, before shrugging it off.

"This is a bad idea. I have to study," I muttered against his lips.

Jungkook grinned. "Fuck it."

And then we weren't talking anymore. His lips were insistent, pressing against mine like he had something to prove like this was something inevitable. My back hit the door, his hands skimming down my sides, fingers gripping just tight enough to make my breath catch.

I should stop this.

But then he exhaled against my skin, his lips trailing along my jaw, and suddenly, stopping felt like the last thing I wanted to do.

"Let me take all your stress away," Jungkook murmured against my collarbone, his voice low, and rough, his hands slipping beneath my shirt's hem.

I grabbed fistfuls of his t-shirt, dragging him closer, pulling him into me until there was no space left between us. I felt his smirk before he kissed me again, deep and slow this time like he was savoring it. Like he knew exactly what he was doing to me.

Somewhere in the mess of limbs and heat, we stumbled toward my couch. The backs of his knees hit the edge, and he let himself fall, pulling me down with him. I was sitting on his lap, and his dark eyes locked onto mine.

"Want to fuck you so bad," he murmured.

"Stop talking" I whispered back, my fingers tracing up his neck.

Jungkook's jaw tightened, his eyes flickering between mine before he kissed me again. I started feeling him growing harder underneath me, making me let out a soft moan. Without thinking any further, my hips started grinding against his slowly. Jungkook let out a muffled "fuck" against my lips before his tattooed hand trailed down to my ass.

Another moan escaped my mouth when I felt him gripping my ass.

"I'll come if you continue making these noises," his voice is husky, making me wetter than I was before.

I couldn't think straight as soon as his other hand started massaging my breasts. At that moment, I knew I was fucked. At that moment, I knew he had me wrapped around his finger, and holy shit, I hated it. I hated that he had this much power over me right now. That if he would stop, I'd beg him to continue.

"Fuck, Koo," my whines brought out a low groan out of him, and our movements became faster. 

His hand left my ass and went up to stroke my hair. My head fell on his shoulder while my breathing became more uneven.

"I'm so close baby" Jungkook brings out before he said, "Fuck you're so perfect".

A loud whine escaped my mouth and my fingers tightened around the fabric of his shirt. And a few moments later, we both came. I should've said something. I should've broken the tension, made some jokes, and kept things light before my brain caught up with my body and started overthinking everything. 

Instead, Jungkook beat me to it.

"Shit," he muttered, "That was..."

"Yeah," I exhaled, turning my head to look at him. 

Silence stretched between us, not exactly uncomfortable, but definitely charged. His fingers traced lazy patterns against my skin, absentminded but deliberate.

"Are we going to pretend this didn't happen?" I asked finally, forcing some kind of normalcy into my voice.

Jungkook tilted his head toward me, his lips twitching into something almost amused. "Do you want to pretend it didn't happen?"

I opened my mouth, ready to say yes, ready to make this easy, but then he dragged his fingers up my side, his touch featherlight, and my body betrayed me with a shiver.

His smirk deepened. "That's what I thought."

I groaned, burying my face in the crook of his neck. "You're insufferable."

"And yet, you dry-humped me."

I moved my head to glare at him again. "This doesn't mean anything."

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. "Sure."

I huffed. "I'm serious. This was just... stress relief. A one-time thing."

"Right."

"Jungkook."

"Y/N."

I narrowed my eyes. He was enjoying this way too much.

"Whatever," I muttered, suddenly exhausted.

Jungkook chuckled. "If you say so."

Silence again, but this time, it felt heavier.  I should tell him to leave. I should establish some kind of boundary before this got messy.

But I didn't.

"Wanna stay?" I said instead, and the next thing I remember is him lying beside me in only sweatpants.

[jackactuallywrites]

All Seeing, All Knowing, All Loving Part 16

Warnings: Filthy music taste and thirsting!

Summary: You flirt with Ghost and then immediately regret it (but not really)

Notes: I have blessed you with my music taste (specifically my writing smut playlist)

Word Count: 2,066

ao3 link

It was just a film. That was all. It was a film, with some very talented actors, and some truly marvellous makeup artists and special effect artists.

Yeah, no, it wasn’t working. You were still freaked out. Even if, logically, you knew that zombies weren’t real and were, in fact, a biological impossibility, you couldn’t help but have that prickling feeling in the back of your neck. It didn’t help that Soap and Roach were playing silly beggars and sprinting around your apartment, knocking things over and making banging sounds that made you jump every single time. It was freaking you the fuck out. The brightness of the phone wasn’t doing much to soothe you, and you’d turned all the big lights on, yet still, your heart was racing. You shifted uncomfortably on your sofa, pulling your blanket tighter around you. Yeah, if there was gonna be a sudden apocalypse, a blanket would keep you safe.

The ping of your phone made you jump, and you huffed at your own anxiety. It was a film, dammit.

‘Ghost: What are you up to tonight? :-)’

Well, that made you feel better. Christ, you hoped he wasn’t planning a surprise visit; you were covered in Doritos dust, and there were soup stains on your pyjama bottoms.

‘You: Just having a little film night. How about you?’

‘Ghost: What you watching?’

‘You: Train to Busan. Korean zombie film! You gonna tell me what you’re doing or is it a state secret?’

‘Ghost: (image)’

Ghost was in the gym. He’d sent you the most stereotypical picture, sat on a bench, wearing a plain green t-shirt that you could see was drenched in sweat. His face was still fucked up; you could see it now that he wasn’t wearing the balaclava, though the bruises were beginning to change colour, tinged with an ugly green around the sides. You were sure that he was flexing his arms; his biceps looked bigger than you remembered. What would it feel like to be wrapped up in those? To have that big beast of a man on top of you?

‘You: TAKE IT OFF. :)’

Mm. You needed to be put down. What thirsty gods had possessed you to send that?

Immediately, you locked your phone and threw it to the other side of the sofa. There was laundry you could do! That would distract you. You dove into the chore with enthusiasm you never usually had, striding into your bedroom and stripping your bed with ferocious energy, throwing everything into the corner of your room, then scooping it up and carrying it out. You paused in the living room to gingerly check your phone, but there was no new message. Argh. At least you’d replaced your zombie fear with something more real. You placed a pillow on top of your phone and then walked into the kitchen to stuff your bedding in the washing machine, trying not to think about the inevitable rejection coming your way.

With the washing machine on, you went to the airing cupboard to get yourself fresh bedding, picking out a nice dark green cotton. There was no connection between you sending a risky text to Ghost and then getting fresh bedding. None at all. Naturally, Soap had decided that you absolutely needed his help putting the bedsheet on, leaping onto the centre of the bare mattress and watching you struggle with the corners of the fitted sheet. He liked to jump forward and slap at your hands as you smoothed out the wrinkles in the sheets, getting fresh white hair all over the nice, clean bedding, as was his way. You just about managed to stop him from crawling inside the duvet cover, finally ending up throwing him in the living room so you could make your bed in peace. He made his displeasure evident, yowling outside your door as you made your bed, but you ignored him, focusing on making an absolutely perfect fresh bed. Military standard, even.

You needed another task. You hadn’t taken a shower yet. You could do pre-shower makeup! That would kill at least half an hour minimum. Right, you needed your slut pop playlist and all the makeup you’d bought, thinking a bold red lip was going to be your new daily thing. Ah, the optimist you were. As soon as you opened the bedroom door to get your things, Soap came sprinting in, leaping onto your freshly made bed and zooming around in circles on it as though the duvet was the most exciting thing he’d ever seen. You gathered the essentials, fresh knickers, makeup bag, waterproof Bluetooth speaker, and your phone which you had now turned onto ‘do not disturb’. Yeah, you were ignoring him; he wasn’t ignoring you.

Oh, you were serving c u n t. Clearly, the very spirit of Gaga and Petras had touched you through the speakers, the spirit of artpop on your face in a bright splash of watercolour painted across your skin. It did look a little bit like you had clown bruising. But, you’d killed half an hour! You took a few photos for posterity, sent them to the group chat, then stripped off and hopped in the shower, bidding farewell to your look. With Gaga blaring while you showered, you really did feel as though you could win a lip sync, ignoring the fact that the shower did drown out a lot of your voice. You had to force yourself not to dance after almost slipping, deciding that dying like this was not how you wanted to go, even if it would be a little funny for the paramedics to hear the music.

With your face back to normal, you wrapped your hair up in a towel and pulled your dressing gown on, carrying the speaker into the living room, still blasting your slut playlist. Roach didn’t approve, skulking into the kitchen away from you. Hater.

For a moment, you didn’t hear the knocking, too lost in the beat of your music, but as the song ended, you heard it in the brief silence between tracks. Ah, shit. Your neighbours didn’t care for loud music. Absolutely no taste. You turned it down slightly, but not completely off, as you went to the door, peering through the peephole.

Oh no. Oh no no no.

Ghost was on the other side of the door. No balaclava, still wearing the t-shirt he’d been wearing in the gym. It was a text! A jest! Why would he come to your door? Fuck. You dithered at the door uncomfortably; you had nothing on under your dressing gown, and your knickers were stuffed in your pocket. Christ. How much of Petras had he heard? He reached forward to gently knock on the door again, and you panicked. Okay. You needed to change. Fuck, your good clothes were on the clothes horse.

“I know you’re on the other side of the door, darlin’.”

Oh, motherfucker. Of course, he would. Stupid military ass. He looked directly at you through the peephole, a very satisfied look on his face. “You only brave over texts?”

Oh, he knew how to play you like a fiddle. You immediately pulled the chain off and opened the door, your face defiant. “The chain got stuck.”

If he knew you were lying, which he probably did, he didn’t call you out directly, just giving you an amused nod, “Sure. May I come in?”

You stepped aside to let him in, only slightly embarrassed at the music that was still pumping out of your speakers. Ghost stifled a laugh, raising a brow and nodding towards the speakers, “These lyrics accurate?” Oh, Kim had betrayed you. He tilted his head to the side, “‘Treat me like a slut, little dirty bitch I love to fuck.’” You could feel your cheeks flushing, and you crossed your arms, “She makes good music!” Ghost looked like the cat who had caught the mouse and was having far too much fun playing with it. “Doesn’t answer my question, love.” You quickly stepped forward to press pause on your playlist before ‘Bring Wet Cunt’ started playing, and Ghost laughed, “Come on, you shy now?”

You took the towel from around your hair and threw it at his face. Like every other time you’d thrown anything at him, he caught it before it hit his face, laughing. His eyes flicked over your dressing gown, “Anything else you want to throw at me?” Christ alive, what had gotten into him? One flirty text, and he was trying to get you naked? Okay, no, you could do this. You were a bad bitch. You tried to look nonchalant, shrugging at him, “You expect me to strip for you when you won’t even take a single shirtless photo for me?”

That was the wrong move. You could see the way his eyes lit up, pupils widening. He leant in, close enough so you could smell his sweat mixed in with his cologne, intoxicatingly delicious, “It’s only coming off if you take it off.” Okay, be cool. You had to remember to breathe, taking in a slow breath, then pushing it out. You could be that bitch. You were going to wipe that smug smirk off his face. And maybe take him to bed. Your hands reached out to grab the hem of his shirt, beginning to lift it up, revealing just a touch of his lower stomach and the dark blond hair that led down into his joggers.

Ghost’s hands flashed out to grab yours, dropping the towel as his fingers encircled your wrists, his top dropping back down. Your anticipation was quickly replaced with smugness, and you broke out into a wide smile, looking at him triumphantly, “Oh, suck it! You chickened out.” His eyes narrowed, “Did not.” You bathed in your victory, “Uh huh. So this,” you wiggled your hands, still caught in his grip, “that’s not me winning?” He looked you up and down, eyes dark, “I’m stopping you from doing something you couldn’t handle.” He dropped your wrists, taking a step back from you, “‘sides, I need to get back to base.” It was impossible not to poke the bear. “You running away from me?” He snorted at you, “Nice try, love.”

The man seemed to have a lot more self-control than you; he seemed entirely uninterested again, looking around your apartment, “Where’s our boys?” You frowned, then realised you were jealous of cats, and gestured to the bedroom, “Soap’s ruining my freshly made bed, and Roach is… somewhere.” Ghost clicked his tongue a few times, and Soap came running out of the bedroom, meowing loudly as he rubbed against Ghost’s legs. Roach came sauntering out of the kitchen, only giving a singular chirp as he jumped up onto the coffee table. Ghost fussed them both, and you sighed, leaning against the wall, “You ever gonna tell me about the names?” Ghost didn’t look at you as he answered, scratching Roach’s shoulders, “Through memorial, we reach immortality.”

You raised a brow at him, but he didn’t elaborate. Memorial. So your cats were named after dead people? Ah. Dead soldiers. That explained the weird nicknames. You didn’t push the topic.

Ghost turned away from the cats and approached you, bending down to grab the towel as he walked, holding it out to you. As you took hold of it, he yanked on his end, pulling you closer. His hand snaked around the back of your neck, holding you in place as he whispered into your ear, “You think you’ve won, but you’ve just proved again how desperately you want me.” He straightened up as he let you go, his fingers tapping on your chin to make you look up, “Don’t quit trying, though, love. I do enjoy your little attempts.”

With that, he moved past you to the door, unlocking it and letting himself out, letting the door close behind him.

Every time you thought you had one over him, he pulled the rug out from under your feet. You groaned and shook out the tension from your body, deciding that you really needed to up your game. As you walked toward your bedroom, you dug in your pocket to get your clean pants out, but there was nothing there. Had he pickpocketed you? For the love of fuck.

Ghost had stolen your fucking underwear.

[481mclarg]

Scared to love you | AL65

★ I've never been good at telling people how I feel, but you make me want to try.

STLY      •       FANFIC + SMAU

          • Arthur Leclerc x Male!Oc Driver

« K » They aren't in Bariloche, but Bariloche is the only snowy place I have as a reference. It never snows in my province😿 (El gordo paisaje nacional, en esta y la sig. parte uso varias fotos de Bariloche).

Warning: Suggestive content – sexual jokes. Possibly worse English than usual (I'm so sorry).

★          introduction. | one. | two. | three. | four. | five. | six. | seven. | eight. | nine. | ten. | eleven. | twelve. |

.          .          . October .          .          .

matteolombardi

♡ Liked by charlesleclerc, zhouguanyu24, arthurleclerc, maxverstappen1, giancarlogirotti, olliebearman and others...

matteolombardi: I think she hates me for being out too long :(

⇲ Comments

user1: VAL, I MISSED YOU

user2: Oh, she looks PISSED

matteolombardi: 😔

charlesleclerc: he's mad because you spend more time with Leo than with her

matteolombardi: Well, it's not my fault if she also hates being with people. I can't take her to the races😿

user3: PSSSSST PSSSSST VAL VAL PSSST PSSSST

user4: How do you manage to leave your house, leaving that baby alone😭😭

matteolombardi: someone has to work to buy her expensive threats, and she's not going... (+ I always leave a trusted neighbor in charge. She's never alone at all)

user5: she's so cute😭♥️

matteolombardi

♡ Liked by olliebearman, arthurleclerc, maxverstappen1, landonorris, dennishauger, alex_albon and others...

matteolombardi: Oh, nevermind. I think she just hates ME

⇲ Comments

user6: OMG this cat is plotting your downfall

user7: SHE LOOKS SO MAD😭

dinobeganovic: She's EVIL

maxverstappen1: Oh- I don't think she wants to come play to Jimmy & Sassy

matteolombardi: I can try to ask her if you want😥

maxverstappen1: I'm not sure that I want😰

user8: Val il gatto = hello demon

arthurleclerc: I'm a little scared now

matteolombardi: I swear to God she's nicer in person

matteolombardi: Guys, I have to take her to the vet next week😰 Wish me luck

dinobeganovic: 🫡 we'll never forget you

dennishauger: 🫡🫡🫡 Rest easy

arthurleclerc: 🫡🫡 it was a pleasure to meet you in this life

olliebearman: My baby will be named in your honor 🫡🫡🫡

paularon: It was nice while it lasted🫡🫡

matteolombardi: GUYS?? 😭

arthurleclerc

♡ Liked by matteolombardi, olliebearman, giancarlogirotti, dennishauger, pierregasly, dinobeganovic and others...

arthurleclerc: 🫡

⇲ Comments

charlesleclerc: YOU made that gift ?

arthurleclerc: the shock ???? I made gifts all the time. But no, this time it is a gift for me, u hater🥱

user9: GIANCARLO LIKED THIS POST ???

user10: SO, THIS IS OFFICIAL ?ARE THEY DATING???

user11: bro thinks he's softlaunching

user12: Is it casual when your former manager liked my post?

dinobeganovic: 🤧

user13: DINO SPEAK NOW

dinobeganovic: NO😙

user14: he's definitely dating Matteo

user15: we need to act shocked when Arthur and Matteo confirm that they are dating

dinobeganovic

♡ Liked by matteolombardi, arthurleclerc, ollie, dennishauger, paularon and others...

dinobeganovic: BARCELONA TEAM IS BACK. Limited edition, now in the snow.

⇲ Comments

matteolombardi: Hope you're happy now

dinobeganovic: Very😁😁😁

            Arthur fell onto the bed, sighing. He was tired from the trip, but happy.

            Getting back together with the same group that had accompanied him on his birthday, seeing that they were all still friends, and that the only thing that had changed was that this time Matteo was going to stay by his side only made him happier.

            The Italian sat down next to him.

            —It's nice. —he commented, staring out the bedroom window. The open curtains left a spectacular view of the snow-covered city and its mountains.

            —The city? —he asked, sitting up.

            —Everything. —he replied. —The city. That we're all here... that we're together. —He looked at the brunette next to him.

            —Yes... it's very nice. —He put an arm around the Italian's waist, letting him rest his head against his shoulder, both admiring the views they had from their room.

            They couldn't tell if a couple of seconds, minutes, or hours had passed like that. They felt an embracing calm, which invited them to stay in that comfortable silence.

            —Did you talk to Giancarlo again? —he asked when he remembered that the man had been making a presence on social media, attracting not only his attention but that of the fans as well.

            —Yes... We are thinking about him returning to his job as manager. —he mentioned. He already knew that they had spoken a couple of months after he had canceled his contracts. Giancarlo explained that he did not feel the same contempt for him that his father had, and he regretted that his actions were perceived that way.

            Arthur found it funny how Giancarlo seemed to be an older version of Matteo. An extraordinary ability in his work, but a gigantic fear of personal relationships. Talk being their biggest enemy.

            Having developed so much affection for his pupil had scared him. Realizing that his annoyance went beyond marketing or public image, but that he was hurt by the lack of trust and that the boy began to act in a rebellious manner instead of talking to him.

            He had also tried to distance himself, to understand that Matteo was just another client, another of the many boys he had worked with throughout his life; while Matteo did the same with the replacement provided by Ferrari.

            Sooner rather than later, they realized that theirs was almost a paternal relationship, giving in to the logical thought of dialogue.

            That Giancarlo hugged him after having told him how afraid he was that he would hate him in the same way that his father did only make him cry.

            The first time in years that Giancarlo had seen him cry.

            —In the end, you both are so soft inside. Just very complicated. —Arthur laughed.

            —I don't hear anything strange, so I'm letting you know that we're deciding where we're going to eat! —They heard shouts from outside the room, along with a couple of knocks. Dennis. —Come downstairs or at least look at the group chat! —

481MCLARG | 05 . 01 . 2025 | SIN CORREGIR