#is this pairing seriously called “shaggy”!?

[wantedwendigo]

Shanks is not doing it right. He's not doing it wrong either, tho x'D Want some more funny fanart? You can find me here, too: WantedWendigo User Profile | DeviantArt

[etherealyoungk]

charming stranger | jeon wonwoo

SUMMARY: in which you meet a mysterious and charming man while feeding some stray cats and you can't seem to stop thinking about him (and neither can he)

PAIRING: biker!wonwoo x reader

THEMES: biker au, strangers to lovers, fluff, soft love

WARNINGS: biker wonwoo, tattooed wonwoo, just wonu & reader being down bad for each other

WORDCOUNT: 4.6k

A/N: this is kind of a prequel based on this fic. but it can be read as a standalone as well! just had to indulge in biker wonwoo again <3

you're sitting down at the convenience store, finishing up the last few bites of your ramen. the night is running late and you look outside at the clouds that threaten to burst with rain any minute now. you get up, discarding the empty packets and bowl in the trash can as you walk outside. you walk up the road to a small quiet alley and you can already hear the meows of the cats as you approach. but then you spot a figure standing around the cats and you furrow your brows in confusion.

you'd heard about someone reportedly poisoning cats in the other neighbourhood and you thought that this was what was happening. you don't know what came over you, but you rush up to the man, causing the cats to scatter. "hey! leave them alone!", you yell as you storm up towards the tall stranger and he turns around, confused at the sudden commotion.

"what are you doing? you leave those cats alone, or i'll call the cops! i know what you're doing", you add, holding out your fist in a weak attempt to appear strong, ready to karate chop this man if needed. you can't catch his face well in the dim light, but he was extremely tall and in hindsight, you'd be no match against him.

the man - wonwoo is utterly confused. he was just trying to feed the cats like he always did, but you've come out of nowhere, yelling at him and scaring away the cats. he steps into the light and you finally catch a glimpse of his face. his hair is long and grown into a short shaggy mullet and falls over his forehead as he looks at you, intrigued.

"i think there's been a misunderstanding, i'm just feeding the cats", he tells, his voice deep, cutting through the silence of the night.

"yeah right mister, you better move on or else i'm really calling the cops", you tell, whipping out your phone and dialling the police number, keeping it ready.

you look around and watch the cats slowly move back in, walking towards the man and meowing. a few of them come towards you too, rubbing against your legs as they meow up at you. wonwoo doesn't know if you're serious or you were joking because he stands there frozen, unmoving as he takes you in; your phone out, standing tall with a scowl adorning your face as you try to look scary, but in reality, you just looked cute to him.

"how can you harm those cats, how do you sleep at night?? now seriously move, shoo", you tell, stepping closer as you attempt to make this man go away. wonwoo steps away, quiet and amused at the situation unfolding in front of him. he walks away quietly, confused and he walks back into the shop, not looking back. you bend down and make sure the cats are okay before you give them some kibble.

it starts to rain after a few minutes, the clouds bursting and the rain pouring down in a steady pace. the cats make a run for it and so do you, heading back to the convenience store. you walk inside in a huff when the cashier sees you. just then the man who was outside comes up to the counter. you're about to open your mouth to speak but the cashier speaks first.

"did the cats eat okay? bummer it had to start raining now", the elderly man says as you walk up front. "he feeds them too, every day. those cats really are lucky, getting their bellies full every day", he adds, his head gesturing to the stranger and you blink at the cashier before glancing at the stranger again.

"oh", is all you can say as you realise that you'd falsely accused the man. he really was just trying to feed the cats. "that's nice", you tell through gritted teeth, trying not to look at the man again because you are beyond embarrassed. you would have very much liked to bury yourself in the ground right now.

the stranger pays for his stuff and goes to the other side near the window, placing his stuff on the table. he pulls out a chair and takes a seat as he looks out the window like he's pondering when the rain might stop. wonwoo only spares you a glance after a few seconds, seeing you stand by the cash counter. he doesn't make much of it and leaves as soon as the rain stops a bit.

after a few days, you find yourself at the convenience store again after a long day at work. it's late and you're too tired to even think of cooking. so you grab your favourite ramen from the shelf, along with other snacks. you make your ramen and sit down to eat. you're in the middle of eating when you hear a pair of heavy boots against the tile floor. after a few seconds, you see a figure next to you in your peripheral vision and it's the stranger. he looks at you as he sits on the chair beside you.

"late night?", he asks and you turn to look at him, realising he was talking to you. you nod your head as you chew. you'd think that after what you did, he'd hold a grudge against you but no, he looked...calm. you wordlessly finish eating your food and the man gets up at the same time you do. he heads out and you rush to discard your trash as you run over to catch up to him.

"hey wait!", you call out as you step out of the store. he turns around as you walk up to him. you stand there in front of him for a few awkward seconds before speaking. "i'm sorry about the other day", you say. "that's alright", he says gently and it catches you off guard. he walks off and you watch as he hops onto his bike and rides off.

over the next few days, you can't seem to stop thinking about the mystery man, the charming stranger. you didn't even get his name, yet he seemed to occupy your mind. you were somehow hoping you'd bump into him again,but you didn't - until today.

it's the weekend and you're grocery shopping when you spot the charming stranger in the fresh produce aisle. your jaw almost drops at the sight of him because holy shit. he's clad in black jeans and a black top that seems to hug his figure a little too well, highlighting his biceps and well-built physique. his short sleeves expose his arms and well-built biceps. your eyes trail down to his arm that's adorned with intricate tattoos, each telling a story, making you gasp softly at the sight. his hair is adorably messy and touseled, falling over his forehead and eyes. the cherry on the top is the thin wired glasses that sit on the bridge of his nose, adding to the unexpected charm, and making him look undeniably hot.

you watch as he casually picks out carrots and fuck, you don't think you've ever seen a finer man in your entire life as you continue to stare at him. finally, you tear your eyes away when you realise you've been staring a little too long. slowly, you feel your cheeks heat up at the sudden realisation and you turn around, telling yourself to snap out of it. there was no way you were crushing on the stranger, right?

you walk away and busy yourself with shopping your grocery list. you're trying to reach up to get the big box of cereal but it's too high up on the shelf. with your arm stretched out, you jump a bit and try to reach out for it but you can't. just then a figure comes up behind you, a hand reaching out for the cereal box with ease and you turn around to see the charming stranger in front of you.

"here", he says as he hands you the box of cereal and you take it without a word. up close, he looks even more attractive. your eyes sneak a glance to his tattoos again and you look back up at him, perhaps a little too stunned at the sight of this hot man in front of you. "t-thank you", you stumble out, mentally cringing at how you sounded just now.

"i like that cereal too", he fills in and you can only nod in agreement because he looks so fine, you're actually rendered speechless. wonwoo watches the way your eyes look him up and down, lingering at his tattoos. he was just thinking about you the other day and here you are in front of him, looking nervous.

you both part ways again and you finish billing up your items, carrying your bag and struggling a little because of how heavy the bag is. you walk ahead, hauling up the bag and holding it with both hands as you walk. you turn around the corner but you stop and take a step back, almost losing your balance as you bump into someone. "woah there", a voice says, causing you to turn around as you regain your balance. it was the charming stranger again.

"oh um hi...again", you fumble out, finding yourself nervous all over again. "do you need help, it looks like you're struggling", he says, his hand already reaching out to take the bag from your hands before you could even protest.

"oh, i can manage", you tell, your hands awkwardly folded as you don't know what to do with them now. "you live nearby right?", he prompts and you nod. "great, then i'll walk you home", he fills in and you stand there awestruck for a few seconds before you snap out of it and nod again.

wonwoo really thinks you're scared of him because all you do is nod your head to whatever he says. he was used to getting some weird looks from people, but really, the last thing he wanted to do was scare you away.

you stand there for a few seconds in silence as wonwoo looks at you with a small tilt to his head, waiting for you to lead the way. "oh, right, um...", you stutter out and walk ahead, wonwoo follows beside you.

"no bike today?", you finally speak and wonwoo swears his breath catches in his throat when he hears you speak. "no, i decided to give her a break, so i walked here", he replies and you nod. when you turn around by the convenience store, you tell wonwoo that you can walk home from here. you take the bag from his hand, telling him thank you and head your way home. wonwoo really starts to think that you don't like him and it disappoints him a little, because in reality, he's really intrigued by you.

later that week you buy some extra cat food, some for the regular stray cats and you take some home for the pregnant cat you'd rescued a few days back. she's just wandered into your house and was meowing so you took her in. you're sitting on the floor as you watch her eat, and judging from how pregnant she looked, you could tell she was due any day now.

wonwoo hopes to see you again. so, he heads out more in an attempt to bump into you more, either at the grocery store or convenience store. he takes out his bike and waits outside the convenience store that evening, hoping you'd drop by - and you do. you're walking by, completely oblivious to wonwoo as you walk into the store, humming to yourself as you grab some snacks from the shelf. wonwoo gets off his bike and heads inside, making his way towards you.

"hi", he says, his voice deep and you turn around, surprised. "oh, hello", you respond softly at the sight of the charming stranger - yet you still don't know his name. he looks at you with a softened gaze, his hair a cute mess as always (or because he kept running a nervous hand through it).

"i was going to feed the cats today", he adds, trying to make conversation and he sees the small smile that tugs at the corner of your lips. "that's good", you reply as you walk up to the cashier and pay for your stuff. you end up fumbling with your wallet as wonwoo stands behind you and you swear you can hear your heart thumping in your chest. your turn around and walk outside, wonwoo following behind, in hopes he hasn't scared you off again.

"i never got your name", you hear wonwoo speak and you turn around. "i'm yn", you tell and he smiles. "i'm wonwoo", he responds and you nod your head at the information.

"i'll see you around i guess", you tell before giving him a small wave and walking in the direction home.

wonwoo, you repeat the name softly and smile to yourself. you finally had a name for the charming stranger.

that week you end up seeing wonwoo more. you find him at the store, feeding the cats or just in the neighbourhood more often. you'd come to recognise his bike and you'd spot it parked around more often than before. but little did you know wonwoo was only coming out more often to see you. you slowly talk to him more that week and wonwoo is glad that you don't run away from him again. he really wanted to get to know you more. that night as you're picking up some ramen for dinner when you spot wonwoo again.

"another late night?", he asks and you nod. "yeah gosh, i need a break", you mutter out as you contemplate between the two flavours of ramen in your hands.

"which one?", you ask, holding out both options for wonwoo to choose from. he looks between them both before deciding on the spicy cheese one. you pay for the stuff and step out, spotting wonwoo's bike parked outside.

"your bike is cool", you offer as you slow down, turning around, a little shy and nervous. somehow being around wonwoo always made you so nervous. maybe because it was because he was so good-looking, and maybe also because he looked a little intimidating. but you'd come to realise that he was actually the complete opposite. he was so soft, sweet and gentle - and that contrast drew you more into him.

"i can give you a ride on it if you want? drop you home", he asks gently, a little uncertainty laced in his voice. "oh, not that's fine", you tell, shaking your head. to be honest, the thought of riding on his bike scared you a bit. but then you look up at him and his words register in your mind again.

"wait, are you flirting with me?", you ask as you glance up at him, a little confused. he only blinks before a sheepish grin forms. "i've been flirting with you for a week now, thanks for finally noticing", he tells, rubbing the back of his neck as he lets out a nervous chuckle.

"oh", is all you say as you suddenly feel very stupid. this is the reason you were and would remain single you thought. "i should go, it's getting late", you finally speak, bidding wonwoo goodbye as you leave. wonwoo thinks he's messed up and he sighs to himself as he watches you walk away.

two weeks later the cat you've rescued had littered and the kittens were just starting to open their eyes and move around. you'd not seen wonwoo around that much lately and you thought maybe something happened. you'd even asked the cashier at the store but he said he didn't know. you walk out and are about to walk home when you see wonwoo's familiar bike turn around the corner as he zips past you. you watch as he goes and you decide to wait a bit, in the hopes that he'd come back. you really wanted to see him tonight and tell him about the kittens. you had started to grow fond of him. but you wait and wait and he doesn't come back, so you sigh in defeat and leave, walking back home.

wonwoo thinks you've rejected him and he doesn't know what to do. he starts to go out less and not show up anymore. but little did he know that you were the one who was waiting for him now, hoping you'd get the chance to see him again.

in the quiet hum of the convenience store, wonwoo hesitates near the entrance, his thoughts swirling with uncertainty. as wonwoo contemplates something, a familiar face catches his eye - you. a rush of warmth floods his chest as he watches you. he sees the way your head lifts up, your eyes spotting him. a smile immediatly blooms on your face at the sight of wonwoo. he freezes, breath catching in his throat, unable to tear his gaze away from you. you stand up in a rush and run outside, towards wonwoo.

"wonwoo! there you are! i've been waiting for you", you tell when you're close enough and his heart jumps at your words. you were waiting for him?

"i thought i wouldn't see you again, guess you've gotten busy huh", you add and wonwoo can only blink down at you as you smile at him as you speak. his heart almost melts when you look at him like that, with that pretty smile adorning your face as you talk to him.

"i rescued this pregnant cat and she littered a few weeks back. the kittens are adorable and i wanted to tell you", you say excitedly as you look up at wonwoo. you wanted to tell him?

"that's sweet", wonwoo finally says, his voice sweet and deep, accompanied by a gentle smile. his hair is still damp from taking a shower earlier as it falls over his eyes and he's wearing that black shirt again that makes him look effortlessly good. paired with those glasses perched on his nose, enhancing his already captivating presence, you swear you're about to go feral at the sight of wonwoo again as you take in his appearance.

"do you want to see them?", you blurt out, the words out of your mouth before you can think. wonwoo looks at you for a second before he responds, his heart racing. "sure".

and that's how you're walking to your place. wonwoo offered you a ride on his bike again but you declined, preferring to walk instead. he doesn't press on the matter and walks with you. "are you okay? i didn't see you around, i thought something happened", you tell as you walk.

"yeah, just a little busy", he says instead, his voice tinged with relief that you wanted to see him again.

you turn around the corner and reach your house. you open the door and wonwoo walks in, following you inside. you can already hear the kittens meows in the room and you chuckle as you walk over to the box, pulling it out slowly to unveil the kittens to wonwoo. the kittens spot you and start to scramble out, climbing up and out of the box with determined feet. wonwoo bends down and offers his hand to one of the kittens, who walks into his palm.

wonwoo settles down on the floor and so you do. you watch as all the kittens storm over to him and climb all over him. you laugh again at the sight of him being ambushed by the army of kittens. "you're so cute", you tell and wonwoo feels his cheeks heat up when you call him that. he lets out a laugh, the sound of his sweet chuckle filling the air between you both.

after you'd played enough and the kittens seemed to have exhausted themselves quickly, you put them back in the box and get up, offering to make wonwoo some tea.

you place the mug of hot tea in front of wonwoo and sit next to him instead. he glances up as you settle beside him, a soft smile gracing your lips. wonwoo watches as your gaze drifts down to his arm, to the tattoos that adorn it. he can feel your curious gaze lingering on the inked patterns, your eyes tracing the lines with unspoken curiosity.

"do you have a favourite?", you ask, breaking the silence as you look up to meet wonwoo's eyes. "i guess i like them all, there's a story behind each of them", he responds and watches the curiosity in your eyes grow. wonwoo offers you the story behind one of the tattoos and watches as you eagerly listen, leaning in closer and he just hopes you can't hear how loud his heart is beating because of you.

you both end up spending more time together than intended but none of you make a move to leave. it's only when wonwoo glances at the time, seeing that it is late that he decides to excuse himself.

"i should probably get going", he says as he glances at the time. "oh-right", you tell quickly, a little defeated. you get up and wonwoo does too. you walk with him towards the door and he lingers at outside your door, like he wanted to tell you something.

"i'll see you around?", you ask, hopeful. "yeah", wonwoo replies softly, a smile gracing his lips as he meets your gaze. it's a fleeting moment, but in that exchange, he feels a connection, a spark of something more.

you watch as he leaves and you close your door, leaning back against it and closing your eyes. the realisation that you were crushing on him hard hits you like a wave. wonwoo realises that too as he walks but he stops. in that moment, determination seems to take hold of wonwoo because if he doesn't ask you now, he may never have the courage to do so again.

turning around, wonwoo retraces his steps, his heart pounding in his chest as he approaches your door once more. with a hesitant hand, he knocks on your door, startling you. you're surprised when you open the door and see wonwoo again, meeting his gaze.

wonwoo stands before you, uncertainty written across his features, but there's a determination shining in his eyes. in that moment, as you stand face to face, the air tinged with anticipation, wonwoo knows that he has to seize this chance.

"can i... can i ask you something?" he begins, his voice steady despite the nervous flutter in his stomach.

with a reassuring smile, you nod, silently urging him to continue. "sure, what's up?", you ask.

"i was wondering... if you'd like to go out with me sometime? for lunch maybe? or dinner" wonwoo asks, the words spill forth in a rush, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he lays bare his feelings before you.

for a moment, the world seems to hold its breath, the tension thickening in the air as you contemplate his question.

"like a date?", you ask softly as you peer up at wonwoo's hopeful and nervous gaze.

"yeah...i mean only if you want to", he adds quickly as he adjusts his glasses and runs a nervous hand through his hair. but then, a smile spreads across your face, genuine and bright, and the weight of uncertainty lifts from wonwoo's shoulders.

"i'd love to," you reply, your voice soft with sincerity. "i thought you'd never ask", you mumble softly. relief floods through wonwoo, washing away the last remnants of doubt as he meets your gaze with a gentle smile.

you're walking back home with wonwoo, his jacket draped over your shoulders as he drops you back home after yet another date. your hand is intertwined in wonwoo's. you reach home soon and wonwoo walks you up to your doorstep.

"i had a great time", you tell, peering up at him and a soft smile blooms on his lips. "me too", he replies.

"goodnight", he adds after a few seconds as he looks at you. he lingers in front of you, and so you do, not wanting the night to end. but there's something else on wonwoo's mind. his eyes flicker down to your lips and back up to your eyes, as he tries to build up the courage to kiss you goodnight.

"see you tomorrow?", you ask, since none of you seem to want to leave, wanting to stay in this moment. "yeah", he says, gulping nervously. his hand finds yours and you look up at him. his gaze flickered to your lips briefly, then back to your eyes, his expression a mix of longing and uncertainty.

"can i kiss you?", he asks, his words were barely a whisper, tinged with a husky intensity as he leans in ever so slightly, closing the gap between you both by a fraction. you nervously blink up at him as you meet his intense gaze, your heart pounding in your chest.

"yes", you say softly as you stand there.

wonwoo leans in a bit, his nose brushing against your cheek and he gently presses his lips to yours for a fleeting moment before pulling away. he's still close enough and he searches your eyes, your heart racing and all you know is you want more.

you reach your hand forward, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt as you lean in to kiss him again, your lips meeting his again. he slowly moves his lips against yours this time. the kiss is slow and deliberate, the warmth of wonwoo's lips against yours sending a rush of heat through your body. his hand cups your cheek tenderly, while his other hand wraps around your waist, pulling you closer to him. your hands rest on his shoulders as you kiss him back. his touch gentle as you melt into the embrace, the world falling away around you as you lose yourself in the sweetness of the kiss.

wonwoo pulls away, his cheeks tinged with a delicate blush, mirroring your own as he looks at you. for a moment, neither of you dares to speak, the air heavy with the nervous energy between the both of you. the silence stretches on, punctuated only by the soft sound of your breaths mingling in the quiet space.

"i, um... that was..." wonwoo's voice trails off into a nervous murmur, his words getting lost in the trail of his thoughts.

you can't help but smile at his shyness, feeling a surge of affection for the man standing before you. "yeah, it was..." you murmur softly, your own voice tinged with a bashful warmth.

the tension between you both eases slightly. with a shy smile, you reach out to adjust wonwoo's glasses, pushing them back up on his nose.

"you're cute when you're nervous," you tease gently, the words laced with affection as you meet his gaze with a playful glint in your eyes. wonwoo's cheeks flush an even deeper shade of pink, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he meets your gaze. "so are you," he murmurs softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he leans in to brush a gentle kiss against your forehead.

taglist: @joshuaahong @fallingforshua29 @itsveronicaxxx @frankenstein852 @mirxzii @wheeboo @writingmeraki @wqnwoos @idubiluv

@paindivinemp3 @naaaaafla @weird-bookworm @icyminghao @kyeomyun @lvlystars @blue-jisungs @wootify @ihrtboo

@n4mj00nvq @yoozuku @manipulatedstars @lavenderwonu @leeknowloves

[nyctoaerah]

⋆♱⋆DOLL SMITTEN

SYPNOSIS:: In which, Suguru Geto can’t bear to let you go and was unable to accept your death, so he made a doll version of you instead.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Dark themes, Disturbing things, Unhealthy Obsession, Gore, Suguru is a total creep. Suggestive Themes. Angst.

PAIRINGS: Yandere! Suguru Geto x Fem! Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

━━━━𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎: 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐈𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃

━━━━𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎����𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐊𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐎𝐍 assaulting suguru’s mind.

The memories of your body, laying before him like a macabre painting—your skin an eerie shade of pallid, with rivers of crimson flowing freely, pooling and congealing in the crevices of the floor, your left arm was severed and lying at an unnatural angle, the bones protruding like twisted branches.

“Suguru”

“Suguru.”

“Suguru!”

Suguru was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard satoru’s voice calling him.

“You’ve been spacing out again...” Satoru sighed, watching as the black haired male clutched the doll that you had given him tightly to his heaving chest.

“M’ alright... don’t worry ‘bout me...” Suguru muttered, staring at the doll.

He missed you so much.

So, so much.

He misses you so much to the point that he even started wearing the cringeworthy clothes that you had gifted him during your anniversary — a shirt that has your face on it.

It was so embarrassing but..

No matter the humiliation, he couldn’t bring himself to remove it.

The fabric was already damp with his tears, but he couldn’t find it within himself to care.

It just hurt so goddamn much. 

He didn’t even flinch as satoru gently placed a hand on his trembling shoulder. Satoru too looked down though , his face drawn in shared sorrow.

“Seriously... I’m worried about you, man.”

“You look like you’re about to have another breakdown...” Satoru mumbled hesitantly, fumbling for the right words.

“She wouldn’t want to see you broken...” Satoru said softly.

“She would’ve wanted you to live on.” Satoru added, hating the weak consolation but unable to think of anything better.

“and move on.”

 Suguru just scoffed bitterly, before forcing a smile.

“No.. She wouldn’t want that...” he said through clenched teeth, tracing the outline of the small doll, his finger lingering on the embroidered smile that you sewn so long ago.

“What do you mean?” Satoru asked gently, already dreading the answer. 

“I mean...” suguru trailed off shakily, shoulders sinking further as he smiled a smile that didn’t reach his  eyes.

 “She wouldn’t want me to move on...”

Suguru stared at Satoru intently.

“Satoru.”

Those bottomless onyx eyes bored into his own, searching, probing.

“Tell me something,” Suguru muttered, so low Satoru had to strain to hear it.

“Where did they take her body?”

The question caught Satoru off guard. His mind raced as he tried to understand Suguru’s motives. Was he paranoid they’d desecrate your urcorpse? Or was there something more sinister at play? He hesitated to answer.

“They took her to Shoko,” he said stiffly and hwsitantly.

“With Shoko, huh?” Suguru finally replied, his tone as sharp and bitter as a winter wind.

They sat in loaded silence, the air thick with tension.

Satoru searched Suguru’s face for any clue to his churning thoughts, but found only an impenetrable void. 

After what felt like an eternity, Suguru spoke again, his soft whisper slicing through the tension like a blade.

“Satoru..”

His silky black hair had grown shaggy and untamed during his days of isolation, falling over his pale face like a veil as his head sagged downwards.

Through the parted strands, Satoru could see the gaunt hollows of Suguru’s cheeks and the dark circles under his reddened eyes — evidence of sleepless nights spent weeping and longing for the woman he had lost. 

“Do something for me,” Suguru’s quiet voice cracked as he spoke, barely above a hoarse whisper.

With apprehension clawing at his insides, Satoru nodded slowly. “Yes...?”

Satoru braced himself, unsure of what request could suguru probably ask.

“Can you... Help me.. sew a lifelike doll in her image.. One with her face, her hair, her body...” Suguru continued, his hands trembling as they tightened around the doll.

“And get her body too... get to hug it before shoko.. do her thing.”

“I just want to hold her corpse, to feel like she’s still here with me.” 

“...Suguru, what the fuck?”

Suguru’s dark eyes burned into Satoru’s soul as he contemplated the request to retrieve your corpse. Satoru’s chest rose and fell rapidly with each panicked breath.

“Get her body? Turn her into a doll?” satoru rasped, disbelief thick in his tone.  

Satoru saw the desperation swimming in Suguru’s gaze and felt ashamed for entertaining such a twisted idea, even for a moment.

He swallowed hard.

He couldn’t just let that happen..

“Please, Satoru...”

Satoru winced upon hearing the small crack in suguru’s voice.

He really just can’t let that happen!!

But... He also wants suguru to be happy.

He drew a steadying breath, loathing the decision he felt compelled to make yet powerless to refuse his friend in such a state of despairing need. Slowly, hesitantly, he spoke.

“You do know that...she wasn’t killed with cursed energy, right?”

“[Name] can become a cursed spirit if we don’t get rid of her body. You know that she died with hatred.. for them.. right?”

The words struck Suguru like knives in his heart. Blood pounded in his ears, vision swimming, as realization dawned with dreadful, delicious clarity

It’s true.. you could become a cursed spirit... And.. and that’s a good thing.

That’s a good thing, right?

He doesn’t even need to worry because he has cursed spirit manipulation... And could tame you if that ever happens...

And then the two of you would live together again... You can be in his arms again.

“I’m sure...”

━━━━𝐖𝐄’𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐀 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘

Nanako and Mimiko sat like statues, feeling awkward.

The moment that they saw the human flesh on the doll, they ended up zipping it back up and scramming away from suguru’s room — they made sure to lock it first, ofcourse, as they don’t want suguru to find out about their snooping around.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

Suguru questioned softly as he lifted his teacup to his lips and took a slow, measured sip, savoring the bitter warmth as it flowed down his throat. He then set the porcelain down back to its saucer with a faint clink and leaned back with a casual grace that bordered on obnoxious, his knees spread wide, elbows resting on his thighs, and head supported by his intertwined fingers.

“You two look like you’ve seen a ghost, is somethin’ wrong?”

Suguru noted, his tone gentle but probing. Propping his elbows upon his thighs, he cradled his face in long-fingered hands and tilted his head inquisitively.

Nanako shifted uncomfortably under his penetrating gaze, fingers twisting together anxiously in her lap, looking at Mimiko but the brown haired girl couldn’t bring herself to meet suguru’s gaze either — instead, she was staring fixedly at the pattern on the carpet.

“Master Geto... Uh.. well..” Nanako trailed off awkwardly before she decided that it’s better to keep silent than tell Suguru about the snooping that they’ve done.

“Well?”

Nanako grasped for her phone as a means to avoid further questions. She scrolled methodically through meaningless updates and messages, clinging to the false sense of occupation as an uncomfortable hush fell over the room. 

“Well? spill it. What’s got you both so spooked?” Suguru prodded, leaning in slightly.

“Oh, it’s nothing, really...” she said, attempting to sound nonchalant as she busied herself with her phone, avoiding his piercing gaze.

Suguru, sensing her unease, narrowed his eyes.

“Come now, don’t clam up on me now. I can tell something’s off,” he prodded gently, concern softening his features.

“It’s nothing, really. Just boy problems,” Nanako said, her words rushing out almost faster than she could catch them.

Suguru raised an eyebrow at her response before settling back in his chair, his mind already conjuring up overprotective scenarios.

By boy problem...

Did they mean—

“Don’t tell me that you two are sleeping around with some boys?” 

“NO!” Nanako replied and suguru sighed in relief.

“Just... Girl things..” Nanako muttered, as she looked away.

“Oh. I see…” he murmured, though the thought of his girls having boyfriends made him uncomfortable. Despite his protective instincts, he knew he couldn’t stand in the way of their happiness. It’s not like he can deprave them of that, he wants them to be happy after all.

Turning to Mimiko, Suguru inquired,

“And Mimiko?”

The brown-haired girl shifted nervously, her fingers anxiously twirling her doll's hair as she avoided his gaze.

“How was the meeting?” Mimiko asked, trying to change the topic.

“Good. How are you?” Suguru replied with a warm smile, trying to coax her out of her shell. Mimiko bit her tongue, not knowing what to say.

“Good too,” she finally managed to murmur.

Sensing their discomfort, Suguru could tell something was amiss.

“Why the long faces, girls? Don’t tell me you’re hiding something from me now now, hm?”

Nanako and Mimiko exchanged guilty glances, both trying to find the right words to explain their unease.

“It’s just that...we realized we missed you while you were out. That’s why...why we seem a bit...down,” Nanako stammered lamely, not knowing what to say.

“Y-yeah, what she said,” Mimiko chimed in, finishing her sister’s sentence with a sheepish grin.

“I doubt it,” Suguru chuckled, taking a slow sip of his tea as he observed the two girls sitting across from him.

Their uneasy glances and sudden topic changes couldn’t go unnoticed after all, and suguru knew whenever they were lying.

It was as if they were tiptoeing around some hidden truth, and Suguru found their behavior quite amusing, and suspicious.

Just as he was about to press further, Nanako’s voice broke the silence.

She locked eyes with Suguru, her demeanor shifting between nervousness and curiosity.

“Master Geto... Be honest,” Nanako started cautiously.

Suguru raised an eyebrow in response.

“Yes?” he prompted, his curiosity piqued by Nanako’s hesitant tone.

Nanako hesitated, trying to find the right balance between subtle inquiry and blatant prying. Finally, she decided on a more indirect approach, leaning in slightly as she carefully framed her question.

“Did you... uhh... used to have a girlfriend?” Nanako finally blurted out, her eyes searching Suguru’s face for any reaction.

Suguru’s smile didn't falter as he responded, his tone light yet firm.

“Why are you bringing this up again? I’ve told you before — no girlfriend now, no girlfriend before.”

Nanako couldn’t shake off the unsettling feeling. If Suguru was telling the truth, then who was that girl in all those photos? And what was the deal with the eerily realistic life-sized doll she had seen in his room... Not to mention, the human flesh in them??

It’s not like they cared about the human flesh anyways, because suguru has done more fucked up things than that — he literally committed mass genocide and other heinous crimes!! This shouldn’t be so surprising.

But still...

It felt so strange...

“Flings?” Mimiko asked.

Suguru simply raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

“None either,”

Suguru replied, his lips curling into a half-smile. He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to appear nonchalant, but his eyes betrayed a hint of confusion.

The two girls seemed interested in prying into his nonexistent love life, which, in his case, was quite literal... non-existent, since his everything, his betrothed, his soul, was already non-existent indeed. He had come to terms with it, of course, but he still doesn’t wanna let go.

“Girl friends? As in girl friends, I mean. A female friend,” Nanako clarified.

“Like a really close female friend,” Mimiko added.

“That’d be Ieiri,” Suguru replied, a fond smile playing on his lips as he mentioned her name. 

Mimiko and Nanako exchanged puzzled looks, seemingly trying to connect the dots. Was Ieiri the mysterious girl they had seen on the pictures then?

“Do you really wanna know?” Suguru’s voice was tinged with a mix of amusement and curiosity as he leaned back in his chair, intertwining his fingers and tilting his head to the side. His deep obsidian eyes gazing off into the distance.

“I used to have a fiancée,” Suguru dropped the bombshell casually, and Mimiko and Nanako’s eyes bulged in disbelief. Fiancée? This was news to them. Was she the mysterious woman in the photos, the one who seemed to inspire the lifelike doll of Suguru?

“A monkey killed her, if you can believe it,” Suguru stated with a hint of disgust.

“We were childhood sweethearts.” He sighed, a mixture of sorrow and bitterness evident in his expression.

“But she’s gone now,” Suguru continued, a hint of melancholy in his voice as he clenched his jaw ever so slightly.

Nanako and Mimiko were struck silent. So she was actually dead...?

Their frowns deepened as a twinge of guilt began to seep in.

Had the life-sized doll been Suguru’s way of coping all along? And to think they had once been repulsed by it... It was making them feel guilty.

The realization weighed heavily on them. They had no idea that Suguru had a fiancée, and now they felt genuinely remorseful. 

“She would’ve adored you both... especially since she was such a girl’s girl.”

“You know, I’d do just about anything for her,” Suguru said with a lovesick sigh, sinking down into the couch and gazing off into the distance with dreamy eyes.

“I would walk across hot coals barefoot if she asked... I’d kill for her..”

“I love everything about her... First of all, i love her eyes, second, her smile, third, her hair, fourth, her face, fifth, her personality, sixth, her confidence, seventh her wit, eight, her intelligence...

Suguru sighed blissfully as he began to ramble on.

Nanako and Mimiko exchanged a horrified glance as Suguru enthusiastically rambled on about all the strange quirks he adored in his late fiancée.

It was utterly bizarre to witness how utterly and completely captivated he seemed by a woman who was no longer among the living.

His enthusiasm for his deceased fiancée was bordering on the absurd — it was as if he was carrying on a love affair with a ghost...

“—Ninety-fourth, her kindness,” Suguru counted off on his fingers dreamily.

“Ninety-fifth, her passion for—” He paused, just now seeming to notice that mimiko and nanako was gawking at him.

“...Why are you looking at me like that...?”

“A man’s allowed to worship his queen.” He cleared his throat.

He was just getting warmed up, ready to pour his heart out about his undying love for [Name], when mimiko interrupted his soliloquy.

“Master Geto... how... how did she die?” mimiko asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Nanako shot her a disapproving look, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

Suguru’s face suddenly fell.

“Don’t you think that’s an invasive question—” Nanako began, her words trailing off as she glanced nervously at Suguru, fearing his reaction.

Suguru was stagnant, scarily stagnant before he finally spoke after some moments 

“it’s fine...”

Suguru’s fingers twisted in his long, ebony hair as he stared into the distance, his expression distant and troubled. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he considered how to answer.

“Let’s just say it was brutal,”

“Through Evisceration and Mutilation.”

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕 || 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓

𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐏𝐀𝐃 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍: Faster Updates and longer chapters here!

©𝐍𝐲𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐡 || 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒: 𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠♡ 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞<𝟑

𝐀/𝐍: this one is unedited and not proof read and is a mix of the other chapters on doll smitten on wp:)

Also, this is out of topic but i’d really appreciate it if you all read this and this, and spread awareness of what's currently happening on my country:) because we're currently in danger and in near in declaring war against china.

[mint-yooxgi]

That Kids, Is How I Met Your Father - Seonghwa X Reader

Part of the CODN Summer Event - See You On The Flip Side

Genre: Mature, Angst, Crack, Fluff, Non-idol!AU

Pairing: Seonghwa X GN!Reader

Words: 2,700

Rating: T for Teen

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, but really it's a really funny misunderstanding, a gun!, mature themes, not edited, I'll do that laterrrrr so please excuse any errors

A/n: Since the event was announced and I saw the first prompt, this has been living in my head rent free lmaooo I had way too much fun writing this, so I hope you all like it as well! It's not meant to be taken too seriously, so just have fun when reading it! At least, I hope you will! As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Summary: You seem to have the most rotten luck when it comes to chatting up strangers... and asking them for help...

Prompt: Accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss.

You have no idea how you got here. Perhaps it’s your penchant for excitement, or maybe even your love of adventure. However, if anyone would have told you that you’d be in this situation, you would have laughed in their face… followed promptly by an excited, yet curious, ‘really?’

Honestly, you can’t be mad. He is rather cute, and he did go along with it to start.

That’s what happens when you trust a stranger.

You had seen your ex across the park with their new fling walking hand in hand. Or, rather, the person they had been seeing the whole time while you had supposedly been in a relationship with them. Seeing them out looking so joyous had something within you twisting unpleasantly, and if they could look so happy being together and away from you, then so could you.

Looking around the park, you had done a quick scan of the area. Weeding out potential dangers, you finally zeroed in on your target. A man with shaggy black hair half tied up in a ponytail. He appeared to be alone, and the fact that he was crouched by the pond chatting with the ducks had an immediate good feeling towards him building within your gut.

Without a moment to waste, you ran over to him.

“Hi, I know this is really sudden, but could you do me a huge favour?” Your words come out rushed, cheeks heating as you avert your gaze to the side.

Unfortunately for you, your gaze caught on your ex and their now partner rounding the closest bend and getting even closer to where you were standing.

You didn’t even give the man time to respond. All you did know, was that he had stood back to his feet beside you, his beauty captivating you the moment you turned to meet his curiously quirked brow.

“Great, thanks.” You say, offering him a tight smile.

The sound of laughter meets your ears, and you immediately find yourself stepping closer into this mystery man’s side.

A call of your name draws your attention to the side.

“Oh, hey, Colin,” you grin, chuckling awkwardly as you meet his gaze. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Well, we were just out for an afternoon stroll through the park, and I couldn’t help but notice you with-“

“Oh, excuse me,” the man beside you clears his throat, extending his hand out towards Colin. You fail to see the pointed look he shoots your ex’s now partner. “Where are my manners? My name is Seonghwa.”

You swear you see Colin’s partner stiffen beside him, their eyes catching on a large silver and black ring on the duck watcher’s - Seonghwa’s - hand.

“So, how long have you and Seonghwa been together-“

“Well, it was great seeing you!” You cut their words off eagerly, a tight smile painting your lips. 

Grabbing Seonghwa’s hand in your own, you pull him down the path and in the opposite direction of the two of them a bit frantically. You need to get away from an even more awkward conversation than what had already been started mere minutes ago.

“This was a dumb idea.” You keep muttering over and over to yourself as you drag him along. “God- how could I have been so stupid?”

You fail to see the curious quirk of the man’s brow trudging behind you.

Taking a quick look around, you manage to rush across the street and into a side alleyway. It’s a bit secluded, but you could use the space right now. Especially after seeing your ex again.

It takes you a full minute to realize that you’re still holding this mystery man’s hand.

“Should I even ask?” His amused voice greets your ears.

Instantly, you drop his hand, beginning to pace.

“All this time I thought I was over doing stupid things like this to get his attention, but no!” You drawl out that last word, shaking your head. “I just had to go and drag a random stranger into it instead of walking away. God, that was probably so uncomfortable for you. I’m so sorry!” You turn to him, your eyebrows drooping. “You probably think I’m some crazy person obsessed with their ex, or something. I promise you I’m not!”

Your words start rising in pitch, voice taking on a more frantic tone.

“I’m just…. upset at how happy they look after what they did-“ you take a sharp breath in. “And you probably don’t even care, oh my god. Here I am ranting to a literal stranger over my old relationship problems after dragging him across the street.”

The corner of Seonghwa’s lips quirk, resting his one shoulder against the brick wall of the alleyway casually. His eyes continue to track your every movement, amusement dancing within his gaze as he listens to you rant like he’s not even there.

After a few more minutes of you seemingly working yourself up, he cannot help but chuckle, “You know, there’s not many people brave enough to do what you just did.”

This seems to halt you right in your tracks.

You blink, turning to face him fully, and noticing how he’s still been here this whole time.

“To be fair, I thought you would have bolted the moment I dragged you into this alleyway.”

“You’re blocking the only exit.” The grin he wears only widens, watching as your eyes seem to dart everywhere but towards him now.

“Oh.” You laugh awkwardly. “So, I am.”

He says nothing in response, simply continuing to watch you in amusement as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Well, then…” you clear your throat, stepping pointedly to the side. “I won’t keep you any longer.”

His grin only stretches wider across his face. “You sure about that?”

“Well, unless you want to hear all about the relationship struggles of a stranger, I won’t hold you hostage any longer.” You motion for him to walk passed with your hand, signifying his freedom.

“Believe me,” he pushes himself off of the wall, yet opts to stand directly across from you still with his arms crossed. “If I had wanted to escape, there is no way you could have held me here.”

To say you are taken back by his bluntness would be a great understatement.

“Oh?” Your brows raise, an expression of disbelief coating your features. “I mean, it’s not like I was being forceful!”

“On the contrary,” he chuckles, his eyes dancing in amusement. “I had no other choice than to follow you after you had grabbed my hand.”

“Well, I highly doubt you couldn’t have just pulled your hand free-“

“But then what would have our dear Colin have thought?” He hums, tilting his head slightly. “Would have been so scandalous for a couple to act so repulsed of one another.”

“I said I was sorry!” Your shoulders deflate. “You seemed like the best option in the park at the time and I took a chance! You’re the one who went along with it.”

“I’m not so heartless that I would leave someone in clear distress.” His words come out a little sharper than before, and you notice his eyes seem to harden for a moment.

You recoil slightly, blinking at him in disbelief. “I never said that you were.”

He holds your gaze, his jaw ticking. His shoulders seem tense.

“Well, thanks for your help, oh, great kung fu master,” you say, bowing dramatically with an arm across your chest while the other extends out towards the opening of the alleyway. “My apologies if I disturbed your duck whispering rituals.”

Seonghwa takes a moment to observe you, his head tilting curiously. A blink, and you have yet to come up from your mockery of a bow, which only causes a huff of disbelief to escape him through his nose.

“You really have no idea who I am, do you?”

You lift your head, brow furrowed. “Should I?”

Your response clearly catches him off guard. So much so, that he drops his arms to his side.

“Are you some celebrity that I don’t know about?” You shake your head, attempting to place if you’ve seen him on a talk show, or in headlines recently.

This time, the disbelief is clear on his face. “You’ve got to be shitting me…”

“I assure you, sir,” you reply pointedly, “that if I had any idea who you were, I most likely would not have approached the least intimidating stranger making animal crossing sounds at the ducks.”

His mouth falls open, eyes widening as he attempts to refute your statement.

“It was rather sweet, if I’m being honest with myself-“

A blink, and suddenly he has you pinned to the wall of the alleyway. His hands hold tightly to your shoulders, pressing you harshly against the brick as his dark eyes meet your own.

“You need to forget everything you saw, and, or heard today.” He says firmly, his lips curling over his teeth.

“Woah,” you attempt to lift your hands in a shrug, but at the way he pushes you firmer into the wall, his body now pressed against your own, you grimace. “Didn’t realize being human was a sin.”

“You don’t understand-“

“Oh, I don’t understand?” You nod once, slowly, your eyes wide. “Because I’m pretty sure this has taken quite a turn from what we both expected from the other.”

“You don’t realize how dangerous I can be-“

“Is this supposed to be some kind of bad boy act, because it really could use some work-“

“It’s not an act!”

“Oh, really?” You quirk a brow, the corner of your lips quirking. “Then, is that a gun in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?”

The man before you lets out a long sigh, his head dropping as he takes a step away from you. His hands move almost too fast for you to see, but at the sleek black object that he pulls out, your eyes nearly bulge from your head.

“A gun!” 

“Keep your goddamn voice down,” Seonghwa hisses, tucking the object into the back waistband of his jeans. “I told you I wasn’t fucking around.”

However, you’re not even paying attention anymore.

“Oh my god, I’m going to die….” You’re mumbling again, blinking rapidly as you lean against the wall for support. “Stupid, stupid, stupid trying to enlist help from a stranger. A stranger with a gun, no less…” You smile tightly, looking like you may let out a shriek of disbelief at any second. “I’m gonna be kidnapped, and my cats will have no one to take care of them-“

“I’m not going to kidnap you.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He goes to reach for you in attempts to calm you down, but you recoil, causing him to immediately back down. “Your cats won’t be orphaned. Relax.”

“But you have a gun!” You whisper harshly, as if it should be obvious why he is a sudden threat to you.

“Hey, if anyone is the kidnap victim here, it’s me.” He hums, that same look of amusement back in his eyes.

“I didn’t-“

“I’ve already had to tell my personal guards to stand down twice since you’ve whisked me away-“

“I was about to knee you in the balls!” 

“Yeah, you definitely would have been shot for that.” He states, rather casually at that.

The look of horror that paints your features is near comical at this point.

He blinks. “You’re not going to be shot-“

“I’m too young to die! I still have my whole life ahead of me!” You begin to wail dramatically.

“You’re not going to die.” He sighs, shaking his head lightly in amusement.

“Says the man with the gun!” You flail your hands, motioning to him with wide eyes. “I knew celebrities valued their privacy, but threats are a whole different ball game.”

“I guess you could call me somewhat of a celebrity.” He shrugs casually, seeming to bask in the idea.

“You, sir, need to sort out your priorities.” You deadpan.

“Says the person freaking out about getting shot by a gun I already put away.” He counters. “Believe me, if I had wanted you dead, you would have been by now.”

“Well, that just makes me feel loads better!” You throw your hands in the air in exasperation. “You certainly know how to pick someone up at the park.”

“You kidnapped me!” He replies, just as exasperatedly.

“I thought you said you’d have no trouble getting away if that were the case.” You simper, nose in the air as you cross your arms over your chest.

A moment of silence passes between the two of you as he takes you in. Then, the most startling sound escapes him since the beginning of your encounter with this mystery duck whisperer.

He laughs. Not a small chuckle, or puff of amusement. A loud, boisterous laugh which echoes off of the bricks of the alleyway as he nearly doubles over.

“God, I haven’t had this much fun since Joong shattered the duplicate blood ruby we were supposed to use to pull off the Mont Blanc heist.” Seonghwa straightens, attempting to catch his breath as he wipes at the corner of his eyes.

You blink, his words seeming to trigger a memory inside of your mind. Curiously, you tilt your head as flashes of breaking news bulletins flit through your mind, your mouth falling open in disbelief. You hand lifts, shaking lightly as you point a finger at him.

“You’re the leader of the notorious Hala gang?” Your eyes go wide, stunned disbelief painting your features. That is, until a shrill laugh is leaving your lips.

Now, it’s your turn to double over in laughter.

“You- you’re the-“ More peels of laughter escape you, hunching over to rest your hands on your knees.

“What’s so hard to believe?” He quirks a brow, seemingly amused by your reaction currently.

“You were making animal crossing noises at the ducks!” Your lips quirk upwards in the corners. “The big, bad, scary Hala boss spends his free time at the pond, cooing to the ducks!”

“Well, we all need hobbies other than murder sometimes.” He shrugs, as if this is the most normal conversation to be having.

“Right,” you drawl out, shooting him a sceptical look. “And diamonds aren’t a girl’s best friend. Or, well, in this case, blood diamonds.”

“Actually, it was a ruby. But, fair enough,” he chuckles, his eyes shining as he stares at you across from him.

“Oh, pardon me,” you roll your eyes playfully. “We can’t all be versed in the world of jewels and gemstones.”

He takes a brief moment to observe you, seemingly coming to a decision. The corner of his lips twitches upwards.

“Would you like to be?”

His question clearly catches you off guard, and you nearly go tumbling over your own two feet as you push yourself off of the wall. “Excuse me?”

“Well, seeing as you’ve separated me from my lovely ducklings, and kidnapped me against my will…” he hums, closing the distance between the two of you carefully. “I think it’s only fair that we do something to my benefit this evening. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Almost as soon as he finishes speaking, he offers you his arm. A soft smile tugs at his lips, that glimmer of amusement shining once more within his dark eyes. He holds no aura of intimidation around him, nor does he seem to have any intent of harming you for the moment. Still, you cannot help but to eye him cautiously.

Your gaze flicks from his arm to his face, studying him carefully. Your brow quirks, and you cannot deny the spark of excitement that kindles within you as you gently place your hand on his arm.

“If my cats are suddenly orphaned cause I’m dead in a ditch somewhere…”

“Believe me, Darling,” Seonghwa chuckles lowly, his breath ghosting the shell of your ear as he leans into you. He lightly tugs you in closer as you both exit the alleyway, ensuring that you’re pressed right against his side. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be begging to stay.”

[sunflowerwinds]

lunch | h.c

summary: you never questioned your sexuality until your bestfriend brittany begs you to come with her to a party where you run into a blue-eyed, shaggy haired girl. you weren’t so sure if being into men was even an option anymore. hazel only had one thing on her mind: you looked good enough to eat.

pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader

contains: mature content & language, friends w/ benefits trope, smut — lots of cunnilingus (r!receiving), public sex, hazel lowkey is falling in love (as are you), reader’s sexuality & body type is never really described so is open to all! :)

word count: 4.1K

a/n: thank you a MILLION to the anon who requested this. i’ve actually never written something so fast 🙌🏽 obviously it is inspired by lunch by billie eilish. thank you billie for dropping this gay ass song! <33

“Please, please, come with me.”

Brittany tugged on your oversized pajama tee as you continuously scribbled across the lined page of your notebook. You were trying to cram in for your English exam this coming up Monday and Brittany was begging for you to come with her to a big house party. You had nearly failed the last one so you were determined to make at least a high C on this next one.

She was standing behind you, letting out exasperated sighs and groans as you continued to stand your ground on staying at your dorm.

“Britt, I seriously can’t.”

“But it’s masquerade themed. Do you know how hot that would be to get with a stranger at a masquerade party?” Brittany groaned as she rested her forehead on yours. “You need this.”

You sighed when she added that last part. Ever since a jock from the football team led you on and got you trapped in a situationship for four months, Brittany has been persistent on the fact that you needed a fling: someone to help you move on and get ready for the next serious person in your life.

“Is anyone I know going to be there?” You hum as you continue to highlight a few more sections that you would be tested on.

Brittany rested her head on yours and can practically feel her grinning ear to ear.

“PJ, Josie, Stella, Isabel, and Hazel,” Brittany stated.

“Hypothetically,” you began and Brittany was squealing already, removing her body from yours to rummage through your closet. “If I go, will I be too hungover tomorrow to finish my notes for Monday?”

“Nope. I promise. I will keep an eye on you the entire time.” Brittany called over her shoulder as she pulled out a corset top that you had rarely worn since moving in. “You’ll be nearly sober.”

It was a deep green satin that made your boobs look amazing. You swore you’ve only worn it to a concert and a birthday dinner.

“Put this on with your matching skirt and get on your small heels with the straps, please. I will get ready too.”

Hesitantly setting your notebook and pens aside, you get up from your cushioned seat to get dressed. It took merely a few minutes to put on your matching outfit, putting on your mask that Brittany had purchased for you.

When you were looking at yourself in the mirror, you nodded in content. Brittany was right. It was time to just have some fun, let go.

Maybe you’ll meet someone.

You snort and shake your head to yourself.

Yeah, right. Frats were somehow worse than football players. No way were you meeting a guy there.

Within the first few seconds of walking through the door, you had greeted pretty much all of the girls except Stella and Hazel. PJ was the one to tell you that they were probably sticking their tongues down people's throats.

“You look stunning. This green on you. I can’t get enough.” Isabel was the first to gasp over you, spotting her bright eyes and beautiful hair a mile way.

You thanked her repeatedly over the loud music. Brittany stood next to you as she scanned the surrounding area for drinks. You stood next to Josie and Isabel who apologized about your situation with your ex-situationship.

Fuck, you hated that word. You were dating but the situationship made your skin crawl.

“It’s whatever guys, honestly,” you tell them, waving them off.

“Men are pieces of shit, man.” Josie patted your back weirdly before shuffling into her girlfriend's side.

You look between the two of them with a small smile, admiring how adorable they were. Isabel and Josie fit weirdly enough considering how different the two of them were. A tap to your shoulder threw you off guard in the midst of you daydreaming about when you were going to find someone like that.

You turn to face the person, stepping back a little when you don’t recognize the masked figure. They were kind of cute. They smiled at you about the open their mouths that is until you heard Josie greet them.

“Hi Hazel. Where’s that girl you were talking to? She was cute.” Isabel calls over your shoulder.

Oh shit. This was Hazel? Scientist bomb-maker Hazel? The more and more you peered into the eye cutout of the mask, you recognized those deep blue eyes of hers.

Has she always been this attractive? Her white button up shirt had the first two buttons left open, exposing the silver chains resting on her neckline. Her chest rising and falling from the drink she just downed.

She looked… good.

“She is in a very committed relationship with her two boyfriends.” Hazel told them, nodding curtly.

“Sounds like overkill but good for her, I guess,” PJ commented, eyes widening from behind her own lace mask.

The three of them gave soft ‘sorry’s’, smacking their lips before sipping on their drinks. Brittany had come back with her drink and yours, silently sliding it into your own and mouths to you: ‘Sprite and Vodka’.

Simple but a favorite.

“Wait, why are we saying ‘sorry’?” Brittany shouted, shifting her eyes from person to person in the huddle they’ve formed.

Everyone began to explain but you were just staring at Hazel. You had no idea what was going on in your brain but your eyes couldn’t pull away from her.

“I’m sorry about that girl,” you finally speak, hoping she hadn’t noticed you staring at her like a maniac.

“No, it’s fine. It was whatever.” Hazel shrugs and she seems legitimately fine.

That would’ve sent you into a spiral about how good your flirting skills were if it was a guy. You suppose someone who looks like her can easily move on to the next girl.

“You look… great. Really great. I like your, uh, mask.” You compliment her, pointing at the plain black mask on her face.

Why are you being so awkward? You’ve definitely talked to Hazel before. What’s so different about this time?

Her smile lines deepened as her eyes followed down from your feet to the lace on your mask. You suddenly felt hot around your neck under her gaze, the sound of the people blurring into the background of the music so that you could only focus on her.

“Thank you. You look beautiful. I’ve never seen this before.” Hazel eyed your corset top, taking a sip from her silver solo cup.

You take a long sip from your drink, feeling your mouth running dry.

“Uh, yeah. I don’t wear it often. I don’t go out much.”

“What?” Hazel leaned in closer so that her ear was closer to your mouth.

The songs had increased in volume to the point where you could feel it in your chest. You shake your head and lean into her to shout: “Do you want to go somewhere quieter? I don’t want to keep shouting all night.”

This Hazel did hear and she nodded, placing one hand on your lower back as she led you through the crowd. You sucked in a deep breath as you looked behind you to see Brittany staring you down with narrowed eyes but she didn’t seem upset, more… confused.

You wave your hand to show that you were fine before letting Hazel continue to lead your body down a hallway. You did have an oral speech that Monday you had to practice for so going somewhere quieter would just be more beneficial.

Once the two of you had been able to seclude yourselves in one of the fraternity brothers rooms, you let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m kind of starting to regret coming here,” you admit softly as you glance around at the very plain room.

“Really? Why?” Hazel questioned as she lingered near the door, watching you snoop through the strangers' knick-knacks he had on his desk.

“I have shit to study for but Britt begged me to come with her. Parties really aren’t that fun when I’m not drinking as much to distract myself,” you sigh, picking up a trophy of a gold baseball man.

Hazel pressed off of the door to find her place standing next to you. The muffled music rumbled the walls but she couldn't focus on that as much as she was admiring how amazing you looked tonight.

“Distract you from what?” Hazel hums, leaning into your side to peer at the knick-knacks with you.

You try not to tense under the feeling of her warm body pressing up against the side of your back. Why were you suddenly so nervous?

“Uh, guy that was a dick and didn’t know how to properly express his feelings and said he had to ‘focus on himself’. Men make me genuinely sick.” You express with a soft huff, plopping down onto the deep blue bed.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Hazel slowly sat down right next to you.

You shrug your shoulders, turning your head to be face to face with her. Her blue eyes were illuminating from the singular lamp that was turned on in the corner of the room. Your stomach turned at her intense eye contact.

“It’s fine. Not your fault, Hazel.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think you deserve to be treated like that. Someone as beautiful and sweet as you doesn’t deserve to be led on by some douchebag guy.” Hazel muttered, leaning in closer to you.

You could feel her warm breath that had a lingering scent of a mix of liquors. Every single fiber in your body craved the taste of her lips. You weren’t even sure if you were completely into women but you knew that right here and right now, you wanted Hazel to kiss you.

“Then what do I deserve?” You whisper, eyes flickering down to her pink lips.

“If you want me to show you, all you can do is ask, pretty girl,” Hazel glances down at your lips as well, her ego shooting through the roof at how very obviously eager you were.

You lick your lips before whispering with a hint of whining: “Show me.”

Hazel pressed her lips onto yours, cupping both sides of your face. You gasped slightly but almost immediately fell into a comfortable rhythm chasing her lips. Your hands ghosted over her neckline, not knowing where to put your hands. You were overthinking it just because Hazel was a girl.

It was so much different compared to kissing a man. Hazel’s hands were so gentle on your face, caressing you in a sensual yet comforting manner. Fuck, you couldn’t believe how wet you were just from her kissing you. You crossed your thighs together to try and relieve that feeling but it only grew.

Her tongue swiped over your bottom lip, teasing to get into your mouth. You allowed her tongue in as her thumb caressed the underside of your jaw. The whimper that left your mouth was borderline pornographic.

“Lay back for me, pretty girl, okay? Let me make you feel good,” Hazel smirked at the sound of your moans, kissing your jaw and neck a few times.

“You’re gonna…?” You pant softly, furrowing your brows.

“Whatever you’ll let me do to you. You can say stop whenever, okay?” Hazel hummed as she nosed at your jaw before jerking to the bed.

You nod enthusiastically before scooching up on the bed, kicking off your shoes. Hazel carefully watched you as she lifted her mask to rest on the top of her head. She would need her entire face for what she was planning on doing to you.

You stare at her exposed face, lifting up your own to rest on the top of your head. Hazel smiled at this, admiring how beautiful you are. You always caught her eye but she only really knew you as Brittany’s roommate.

Now, she was really getting to know you.

She kneeled on the bed, placing her hands on your plush thighs. You watch her carefully push your skirt up your waist, biting your lip anxiously. Hazel leaned down to place a soft kiss onto your inner thighs. They were feather-like, sending shivers down your spine. Her ringed hands grip onto the outer parts of your thighs as she whispers praises unto your skin.

You shut your eyes and tilt your head back as she inched to the crotch area of your underwear. You could’ve worn a pair of a lot sexier ones but you landed on seamless hip-huggers. Her fingers thumbed over the waistband, looking up at you with needy eyes.

“Can I take these off?”

“Please, Hazel,” you buck your hips involuntarily.

Hazel leaned down to kiss over your pubic bone, looking up at you. You push your flyways out of your face as you watch Hazel tug your underwear down your legs and toss them on the bedside table. You open your legs slowly to expose yourself to her.

“Can you tell me what feels good, pretty girl? Yeah? Can you do that for me?” Hazel hummed as you placed a few more trailing kisses and licks across your thighs.

You merely whine at her words, growing more and more needy as she continues her way up your thighs. She didn’t give you any time to process it until her warm tongue swiped over your folds. You sucked in a deep breath, a shuddering moan leaving your lips.

“Fuck,” you whisper, admiring the head of shaggy hair in between your legs.

God, her tongue made your squirm like no man ever had. You swore they just licked your thighs and your hip and asked if you came. They could never compare to how amazing Hazel was making you feel. She backed up for a moment to kiss at your clit softly, enjoying the way you were practically dancing on her tongue.

Sweat beads formed at the base of your neck and the crevice of your hips as you rocked against her face. Hazel moaned softly against your wet folds, her tongue fucking into you.

That was only the beginning of it.

After that night, you and Hazel began to just have fun. You didn’t dare tell Brittany that you were sleeping with Hazel, one of her dear friends from high school. It wasn’t your fault that she gave you mind-blowing, legs pulsating, eyes rolling into the back of your head orgasms.

You assumed Brittany knew that you were seeing someone because well, she found your inner thigh hickies when you went home with her to visit her family's pool. When you came back to campus later that evening, you and Brittany arrived to see a small box sitting in front of your door.

“Oh my god is this from your little lover?” Brittany gasped as she kneeled down to pick up the little blue box with a white ribbon bow.

Your eyes widened at the box, furrowed brows at the little tag that read: ‘From, Claire’. You surprised a cheeky smile as you and Hazel had agreed she would be named ‘Claire’ when she got you these surprise gifts of your favorite candies, lingerie and dresses she would have you wear to fuck you in.

“Claire? Do I know a ‘Claire’?” Brittany hummed to herself as she unlocked the dorm room.

“Nope.”

When you both got into the room, you flipped open the note to see: ‘Tomorrow at 6:30. Meet me at my dorm room and I’ll take you somewhere nice, pretty girl.’

You bit your lip as you opened your box when Brittany told you she’d hop in the shower real quick from being so sun-tanned. You unraveled the ribbon and lifted the lid of the blue box to see a black lingerie set but the panties were crotchless.

That little freak.

But my god, you loved it.

Tomorrow couldn’t come faster. Brittany even tried to see who you were texting the night before you went to Hazel’s dorm.

“So am I ever going to meet your fling or are you just always going to disappear out of nowhere and coming back all smiley and giddy?” Brittany hummed as she typed furiously on her laptop, glancing up at you as she adjusted her blue light glasses.

“Hmm, I haven’t decided yet. I’ll let you know after this time,” you remarked with a cheeky grin.

“He’s not like an arms dealer or something right?” Brittany narrowed her eyes.

You snorted and shook your head. Some part of you was also just scared to say out loud that you had fooling around with a woman; let alone a friend of hers.

“No. I promise at some point, I will tell you, Britt. I’ll be back at around midnight, I hope.” You beamed, leaning over her bed to give her a kiss on the head.

Brittany chuckled at your actions, telling you how much she loved you and to be safe and not get pregnant. You knew that would never happen.

As much as you would pretend to daydream about it.

When you knocked on Hazel’s dorm room door, it swung open almost immediately to reveal Hazel in a deep green button up with a white wife pleaser underneath and a pair of baggy jeans. Her carabiner with her keys as clasped to one of the loops of her jeans.

She shut the door behind her, eyeing you up and down with a smirk. That was the thing about this little friends with benefits situation you had with Hazel; she actually made you feel sexy. She made you feel like the hottest person in the room.

Like she could eat you alive.

“Aren’t you just the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, hmm?” One of her hands snaked around the waist of your sundress.

“Haze,” you sheepishly whine, covering your face with one hand.

“You’re cute. Take the compliment and let’s go, baby.”

Hazel smoothly grabbed your hand that was covering your face into hers, interlocking her fingers with yours. You follow her to her car, getting glances from a few girls that were coming up the stairs that looked like they were studying in the library. Something you should be doing but you were going on a late afternoon date/hookup.

You almost felt guilty. That is until you felt her place a kiss on your forehead when you approached the passengers side of her car. She tugged the door open for you, placing a hand on your lower back.

“Where are you taking me?” You hum, glancing up at her once you sit down on the passenger's seat.

“It’s a surprise, pretty girl. It’s only going to take twenty minutes to get there and it’s going to be worth it.”

She bent down to capture your lips into a soft kiss, smiling when you chased her lips when she pulled away. Her thumb traced over your bottom lip for a moment before she shut the door.

You sat in the seat releasing a shaky breath. She was able to get you riled up without fail.

The drive was in fact a lot shorter than you were expecting. Hazel’s palm never left your thigh, giving it squeezes every now and then. It made you more and more aware of the fact that you were wearing crotch less panties.

Hazel pulled into a rather dark field, the only light source being the setting sun. If you squint, you could see a variety of flowers decorating the green of the field.

“Where are we?” You chuckled, turning to face Hazel.

“If I’m going to be honest before my mom decided to go through her mid-life crisis and start sleeping with barely legal men in high school,” Hazel began, which made your eyes widen for a moment, muttering a soft ‘what’ but Hazel continued on. “She used to take me here to pick flowers to put in the little bay window in our living room. I’ve never forgotten how beautiful it was here. I think you deserve something just like this.”

Your heart soared, leaning into her face. No, you were just having sex while she showered you with gifts and treated you better than any man you’ve ever fooled around with. No feelings.

None. Absolutely none.

“You might want to tone the romance a bit, Hazel. It might ruin your reputation,” you tease, scrunching up your nose.

Hazel tilted her head as her eyes drifted to your lips and back to your eyes.

“I only care about what you think, pretty girl.” Hazel admitted with a gentle kiss to your lips.

No feelings. You kept repeating to yourself internally as you felt the apples of your cheeks heating up.

“Well, I think you’re really sweet. I kind of feel bad that you don’t really get much from me.” You frown, reaching for her chain that was resting at the base of her neck. “Or sorry, you won’t let me as much as I try.”

“I already told you. I like doing this for you. Making you feel good and seeing that pretty smile.”

”Mmm, okay, so, what are you planning on doing while we’re here?” You raise your eyebrows at her, faux innocence coaxed in your voice.

Hazel seemed to be thrown off guard but when she looked at your smile, she knew you were only messing with her.

“I have a blanket in the back seat.”

“Good because I’m wearing the present you got me,” you leaned to ghost your lips over hers.

Hazel let out a soft groan as you chuckled to yourself and tugged open the door of your passenger's seat. You look out at the gorgeous sunset then look at Hazel who looks like she’s trying to calm herself down. She eventually got out, the blanket hooked underneath her arm as she, too, looked out at the sunset.

She grabbed your hand as you marched through the flower field, the petals and grass tickling your legs. Hazel stopped a few feet away from her car to lay down the towel on a flatter patch on the ground. She laid down, looking up at you as she caressed your calf and tugging your leg forward.

You knew what she was asking of you.

“Wait, really?” You kneeled down, brushing your flyaways out of your place and looking around.

There were miles of trees and fields and there was probably no chance anyone would catch you guys. Yet there was still a slight fear in your chest that someone was going to catch you sitting on Hazel’s face.

“There’s no one around for miles, pretty girl,” she sat up right on her forearms, looking at you with nothing but hunger in her eyes.

“Okay, okay, I guess I’ll let you eat me out,” you sigh dramatically before straddling over her face.

Hazel laid back down so that she could push the skirt to your sundress up your plush thighs. She held back her smirk when she saw the lace covering your cunt and the crotchless portion that you promised you were wearing. Hazel didn’t hesitate to dive into your folds, teasing your clit slowly. You gasped and felt your knees give out so that you were full sitting on her face.

Your thighs entrapped her cheeks as your hands found her messy head of hair. Your moans freely left your mouth as she hungrily moved her jaw until the muscles ached. Her movements increased in speed as you whined and begged for her to keep going.

“Please, baby. So good, you’re so good.” You babble as you grinded your wet folds over her lips to her chin, coating her skin with your slick.

Hazel’s hands harshly gripped at your outer thighs as she followed your hip movements, letting her own moans flow out. Her rings made indents into your skin but it stung wonderfully, addictively. Your orgasm came quickly, your back shuddering as your hands were tangled in Hazel’s hair roughly.

You sat up with all your might, panting harshly as you looked down at Hazel’s flushed and wet face.

“You taste so good. Come here,” Hazel pushed up so she was sitting right up on her bottom, her hand snaking up to cup the back of your neck.

You giggle as you connect your lips, softly moaning into each other's mouths. The taste of your own juices lingered in your mouth as she messily made out with you.

“I could eat you everyday and never get sick of it,” she muttered against your lips, nibbling on your bottom lip.

And you wouldn’t hate it if she did.

special thank you to @breezy-sapphic for reading this over <3

[muntitled]

Oh my!! I just read your lee know req and god please spare me my knees are weak. Can i request a lee know dilf? I’m sure its perfect!! 💗 btw i love you take lots of rest! Mwah!

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐞

Pairing: Lee Minho x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dating a single dad who coincidentally happens to be your next-door neighbor does not come without its fair share of hardships (and fun)

Warnings: Language, Humor, Domestic Fluff, Single Dad AU, Secret Relationship, Smut +18 (Minors DNI), implied age gap, Brat!TamerMinho, Bratty!Reader, Oral, Dacryphilia, Needy!Minho, Slight DDLG, Dom/Sub undertones

Seriously so domestic, you have been warned <3

Dating had always been difficult, and up until very recently, you had been perfectly content as an unwilling participant of crush culture. Seldom men have grappled your attention, and the ones that do are often doomed to give you the ick. Every man was either too loud and obnoxious or too nonchalant and non-empathetic. You had given up on dating altogether until fate sunk its talons into your love life.

What're you wearing?

The message came at the dead of night while you lay supine on your couch. Minho rarely sent text messages, preferring to call or email like the archaic man he was. It sent you crazy with admiration.

Wouldn't you like to know?

You grinned as you sent the message back, chewing anxiously at the ends of your sleeves like you were a child awaiting their scolding.

Yes I would. That's why I asked.

Almost immediately, you could tell Minho was needy. He was naturally very blatant and authoritarian, but he became even more so when he found himself slipping into arousal. You could picture him through the screen, and the mental image had your stomach warming with delight: his hair shaggy from his hands running through it all day. His dress shirt, unbuttoned. And perhaps maybe he was reclined backwards on his big leather couch. Nursing is phone in one hand a whiskey tumbler in the other.

What are you wearing.

Comes Minho's message a second time. This time, the tone felt far more demanding despite being the exact same words. You immediately knew that if you would not comply quickly, you might be in for a punishment. Oh how you adored punishments.

Wrong punctuation. It's 'what are you wearing?' No full stop. And you have an adult job? Smh...

You're so undeniably tense that you fear your jaw might crack from the pressure that it's clenched and you hold your phone close to your screen. For 60 agonizing seconds there is not response and you can definitely picture the look on Minho's face with his tongue poking tje inside of his cheek while he shook his head and murmered a quiet and appalled "진싸" to himself.

Come over. His next text reads. The kid's asleep. Come over.

You dreaded taking the very short walk to your next door neighbor and boyfriend's apartment and yet, the opportunity to piss Minho off even more is just too difficult to pass up. A slow smile grace's over your face as you send back an 'aye aye captain' before slipping on your slippers to make the short journey to his apartment.

Before your fist even hits the surface of the wood, the front door is ripped open and Minho's pulling you inside. "You've been holding out on me?" He grumbles, before forcing kisses down the side of your neck. "Why?"

In a flurry of trying to kick your shoes off at the front door as Minho leads you both to the couch. You try to control Minho's frantic groping at your sides and try to ignore his bulge pressing against your thigh. When pulling you onto his lap, you're not quite sure what to make of your thoughts and emotions.

All you feel is a sharp pinch on the skin underneath your woolen sweater and you yelp, "What the hell-"

"Answer me?" He says, glaring at up you with an aura of seriousness. Your legs ached as you straddled Minho's lap, and conversation seems impossible. "I wanna know why you suddenly think it's okay to start being a fucking bra-

"You brought it!? I can't believe you actually brought it-"

A small, excited gasp cuts through what was to be the most embarrassing scolding of your life.

Like the breaking of an ancient spell; you and Minho push back from each other on the couch, you detangle your limbs and you keep a distance. You're almost grateful for the little boy padding into the living room, tiredly rubbing his eyes.

Minho watches his son run towards you on the couch with furrowed eyebrows. Nothing but confusion swims across his darkened irises, and you shrug slightly before uncovering the thing that has apparently been in your hands this whole time. Minho had been so clouded by his own lust that he barely saw the children's book you had clasped in your hands. He watches how you and his son exchange pleasantries like long-lost friends. The both of you practically beaming.

He is only able to intervene on your very important conversation when he notices you handing his son the book.

"Woah- hey, what's going on?" Minho's hand instinctively goes to the back of his son's head as he looks down at you curiously, "What's this?" Minho asks.

"The reason I'm here," you make awkward little jazz hands which Minho's son finds very amusing before you clear your throat. You give Minho an inconspicuous wink.

"Your son... he-"

"I just can't stand how you read bedtime stories to me, Dad."

Minho swings his head downards, his eyes wide.

"You said you liked how I read-"

"No, Dad," theres a roll of his 4 year old eyes and you smile, "You like how you read. Its not very fun for me-"

And that's how you spent a majority of the evening reading a bedtime story for a sleepy little boy until he finally slipped away. You didn't mind it. The story was buying you some time from what you knew was a very aggravated Minho, and all you could do was chuckle to yourself as you read.

This was all so incredibly short-lived because the kid eventually did fall asleep, and you could feel your insides twist as you closed his bedroom door, making your way back to the living room. Every step you took felt like you were skinking deeper and deeper into the earth, and you swallowed very thickly when you rounded the corner to find Minho staring idly at the wall. He was slouched slightly on the couch with his shirt unbuttoned even further.

As you rounded the couch, you spied an empty whiskey tumbler on the coffee table. You shiver.

"Had fun, then?" Minhos hisses almost petulantly.

You roll your eyes as you lower yourself onto the couch beside him.

"If only you weren't such an incompetent bedtime reader then I wouldn't-"

But his hand was already squeezing at the base if yojr throat and you gasp, raising and lowering your body as your lips parted in what was very clearly excitement.

"You and this fucking mouth-"

"A-Are you going to punish me?" Minho regards you for a split second underneath the shadow of his lashes before he breaks out into a chuckle. You tilt your head in confusion, which is only tripled when his hand goes from your throat to the top of your head. "Good girls aren't supposed to like their punishments, are they?"

He knew what diction to use to have you slipping into subspace, and all you're able to do is nod as you shift closer to him. You lick your lips, so completely rattled with tension of all the endless possibilities. Would he spank you? No, perhaps that would cause far too much noise... would he edge you-

"Only slutsnlook forward to their punishments, you know that?" Your nipples tighten against the fabric of your sweater and you nearly moan again. Minho's hand on your head is so heavy, so unmistakably manly it has you spiraling.

"And punishments are no fun if you enjoy them." The hand on your head gets heavier and heavier.

"Minho-"

"Knees." It's all he says before you're toppling to the ground at his feet. Your heart is pounding out of the confines of your very chest, and you lick your lips suddenly feeling so incredibly dehydrated as Minho drags you to his knees. He sits back, letting his head rest on the back of the couch as he says, "You know what to do, don't you?"

The weight of your punishment suddenly hits you tenfold as you bring your shaky hands to undo Minho's belt. It wasn't a 'punishment' at all. Not in the way you wanted.

Instead, Minho was quite content letting you pull out his cock and service him. Making you wait as long as he was forced to.

Minho's jaw clenches when you pull his cock out of his briefs and the sound has your bottom lip trembling.

"P-Please, Minho,"

"Shut up," he mumbles into the air with his head still thrown back and his eyes squeezed shut.

Consequently, you nod into the open air as you spit into your hand and begin to pump his hard length with every bit of precision. You can feel your clit beg for some kind of friction to the point that your need becomes painful.

"You're too slow," he whispers, clenching his eyes shut in frustration, "Too fucking slow." You speed up the pace, watching his lips fall open and feeling utterly intoxicated by all the pretty sounds Minho makes for him all from the both of your hands wrapped around his cock.

"F-Fuck-" You twist your wrist, suddenly spurred on by his reaction.

"I don’t want your hands," Minho huffs, "I want your mouth" and you bend your head dutifully before closing your warm mouth around the head of his cock. Minho's head immediately snaps up from the couch, and he is completely and utterly wrecked. He digs his fingers into your hair, forcing you down onto his cock, "Make a mess. You know I like it when you make a mess, Dove," You're practically whining around his cock and he hisses.

Trails of spit and precum drip out of your mouth along with nasty tears that run down your face, reddening your eyes. Minho's cock twitches in your mouth at the very sight of you. "Look at you," he whispers, "Fucking look at what a mess you are for me," You're nodding frantically, his large cock hitting the back of your throat now-

"I'm gonna fucking cum in that pretty mouth of yours and yojre gonna take it, aren't you, baby?" He frantically moves your braids out of face, all the more the see your completely fucked out expression despite not even receiving any stimulation. It has him lifting his hips to rut into your mouth and just as you choke, Minho's voice cracks, "Shut a good girl," he praises as he looses control, "Shut as good fucking- FUCK-" His cum fills the back of your throat at an alarming rage and yourenforced to clench your toes and swallow, there was no other option. He pats down your head lovingly as his hips snap up against you and you whimperbsnd moan around his cock, only prolonging his orgasm

"God, you're so good to me, baby," he whispers, coming down from his high but not without any aftershocks, "You're so fucking good to me,"

<3

© to @mphountitled on tumblr; do not repost

[ereardon]

Homecoming [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter 2

Summary: Returning home to California after six years abroad in England, you found everything has changed. Jake Seresin, your father's former college roommate and lifelong best friend, is now a widower and has purchased a new vineyard in Montecito, only a few miles from your childhood home. Your parents’ marriage is on the rocks, your brother is struggling with what to do with his life, and you’ve grown up and are starting your own counseling practice. So what happens when you find yourself falling for the man your father calls his best friend? And worse, what happens when your parents find out he’s falling for you, too? 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader

Warnings: Age gap, eventual smut, cursing, alcohol

Word count: 2.2 K

Chapter overview: Y/N starts her first day at work at Jake's vineyard

Author's note: This fic references a significant age gap, as reader is the child of Jake's best friend. However, she's in her mid-twenties, and he's been only a small part of her life to this point as he spent the majority of his time traveling with his late wife. This fic does not depict grooming, but if you are concerned with any of the themes please read at your own risk.

Masterlist here

Colin, despite being eleven months and five days older than you, was your first patient. Although neither of you realized it at the time.

You remembered it clearly. The two of you sitting on the edge of the pool, toes swinging in the water, the sun glinting off the surface and bursting into a million shards of light across the tile bottom. 

“I’m mad,” he said. 

You looked over but his eyes were trained on his feet, thrashing in the chlorinated pool. “Why?” you asked. 

He shrugged. “I don’t know.” 

“Is it because of mom?” you asked. Another head shake. “Is it dad?” There was a pause. You sensed a shift in his demeanor, even at eight years old. You pushed. “He thinks you’ll like it. Make friends.” 

Colin turned to you, his shaggy hair covering one eye. “I have friends.” 

“I don’t count.” 

“You might like it,” you whispered. “Camp is fun.” 

“Cowboy camp,” he replied, frowning. 

“Horses are cool.” 

“You think that because you’re a girl.” 

Your eyebrows knitted together. “At least dad is letting you go to camp.” You pulled your legs out of the water. “He won’t even let me out of his sight.” 

Colin’s small shoulders sagged. “That’s because he loves you more.” 

Your mouth dropped open, but nothing came out. Just air, filling your lungs, mounting so much pressure in your chest you were scared to let it out, lest you collapse. Colin’s back stayed turned away from you. 

And then it was over. And you went inside, wet legs sticking to the edges of your capri pants. 

***

“What do I wear?” you asked your mom, standing in front of your open closet. Everything in it felt wrong. The dresses you wore to the nightclubs in Berlin, the jeans that spent nights at the pub, your old high school wardrobe that was seriously dated. God, you needed new clothes. Something that said young professional, but not in a sad way.

“I have no idea, dear.” Your mother picked up a lace thong that you had tossed on the bed and frowned. “I’ve never been to the vineyard.” 

“What?” You swiveled around. “You’re kidding.” 

“Your father is the one who goes,” she replied with a shrug. “He and Jake have always been closer.” 

It was true. Jake and your father had been college roommates at USC, randomly paired together freshman year. They couldn’t have been more different, but somehow they made it work. 

You grabbed a blue dress with a tie in the middle and turned back toward your mother. There was something about her gaze, the way she was looking out the window. “Mom?” you asked. “Everything OK?” 

“Of course,” she replied instantly, but her voice caught at the end, a small lift that set off a warning sign in the back of your brain. 

You frowned. “Alright. Well, I’ll see you guys tonight at dinner?” 

She stood up, smoothing her hands over her linen pants. “Have a good first day.” 

You turned toward the mirror, angling the dress over your body before tossing it on the bed. You couldn’t afford to fuck this up. It wasn’t just that you owed it to Jake. You owed it to yourself to show up and prove that you could be successful outside of an academic environment. 

***

Thirty minutes later, you stepped through the vineyard doors. The sound of your heeled boots echoed in the vast entryway. “Jake?” 

“Sparky.” Jake appeared from your left, wiping his hands on a towel that he then slung over his shoulder. You breathed a sigh of relief. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a loosely buttoned shirt, a pair of loafers rounding out the look. You sent up a silent prayer that you had also worn jeans, albeit a tight pair with a slight flare, and a silk sleeveless turtleneck. “Ready to meet the crew?” 

You nodded. Jake spent the next hour introducing you to everyone, from the waitstaff for the tasting room to the food engineers helping to bottle and test the wine, and the farmer he had on staff to cultivate the small garden where they grew fresh vegetables to include in charcuterie plates. 

“Your job is to be the puppet master,” Jake said as the two of you emerged back onto the main floor. “There’s two hostesses. If they’re both gone, you can man the front table. At the end of the day, you and I will sit down and look at the books and go over how things went and where we need to make changes.” 

A silent scream rose in your throat. This was too laissez faire for your taste. You needed rules, regime. 

Jake grinned, putting one hand on your upper arm. His touch was warm, inviting. Once again, you looked down at his bare ring finger and felt a longing for Jenny. “You’ll do great,” he said. “Trust me, you’ll know what to do. It’s intuitive.” 

“Where will you be?” you asked. “If I need you.” 

“You won’t need me,” Jake asserted. “But if you do, I’m around.” 

“Helpful.” 

Jake raised an eyebrow. “Is that how you talk to all your bosses?” 

You flushed. “Oh my God, I’m sorry, I didn’t even–”

He laughed. “It’s OK, Y/N. I know it’s a weird dynamic, because we know each other. I don’t expect you to call me Mr. Seresin or anything like that. I trust you, and that’s why I’m giving you free reign of the place.” 

The blush was still inching down your neck. You nodded, gulping. Jake reached out, squeezing your upper arm gently. “I’ll be in my office, alright?” 

Jake disappeared down the staircase and you swiveled around, nerves worming their way through your body. Just as you were about to flee into a corner, the doors swung open and a young couple stepped up to the podium. 

“Hi, we’re the Kellers,” the woman said. “We had a one o’clock reservation?” 

Jake and Amy, the host, had shown you how to use the tablet. Your fingers shook as you pressed buttons on the screen, pulling up the reservation, a sigh of relief bubbling in your throat as you found their names. Ethan and Whitney Keller. 

They sounded as white as they looked. 

You looked up, smiling. “Of course, Mr. and Mrs. Keller. If you’ll please follow me.” 

Jake had been right. A part of you cursed him a little. It came naturally. Floating around, asking people how they were, chatting lightly about the wine. All those years in Europe had done nothing if not given you a taste for alcohol. 

Plus, you liked talking to people. You always had. You listened and gave them thoughtful responses. You could read people – if there was tension, if someone in a group felt left out, if they wanted to be left alone. 

It was almost like therapy. With wine. For a split second you wondered if you could get a liquor license for your clinic before realizing that was an insane thought. 

At the end of the day, once all the tables were wiped and the floor was mopped, the wine was put away and the rest of the staff had gone home, you found yourself outside on the bench at the edge of the patio, overlooking the vineyards, a small tree above you gently blocking the setting sun. 

“Can I join you?” 

You turned just as Jake slid into the spot next to you on the bench. 

“You were amazing,” Jake said. 

A blush crept up around your cheeks. “Thank you.” 

He threaded one arm against the back of the bench, behind your head and shoulders. It was casual, not cloying or weird at all. His scent, that familiar crushed stone fruit smell, wafted over you as the soft breeze carried your scents together, melding them in the air. 

“Do you have dinner plans?” 

You thought about your parents, sitting at home in the Spanish Villa they had built when you were three. About Colin, who you still had barely seen since you returned from London. 

“I’m free.” 

“Good.” Jake stood up and wiped his hands on his jeans. “I’ll make you dinner. Hugo will be excited to see you. And we can taste the new crop of wine.” 

As you watched Jake walk back up the hill toward the building, a strange sensation built in your stomach. For the first time ever, you realized that Jake Seresin was more than just a family friend. 

***

“It’s hot.” 

“Ow, ow, ow!” 

Jake laughed as you let your mouth hang open, pasta tumbling back onto the plate. You closed your mouth, wiping it with a napkin. “OK, ew, sorry you had to see that.” 

“I warned you,” he replied, twirling a fork in his bowl of creamy vodka pasta. “You just don’t listen. You never have.” 

“That’s not fair,” you said, breaking off a piece of bread and sliding your hand down to your thigh, feeding Hugo under the table. He greedily chomped at the bread, and you wiped your fingertips on your thigh. 

“I saw that,” Jake countered and you laughed. “Don’t spoil him too much or he’s going to stop liking me and he’ll only want you.” 

“That’s the plan,” you replied, patting the Golden’s head. 

Talking to Jake was easy. It wasn’t until the two of you sat down to dinner that you realized in all the years you had known him, Jake and Jenny flitting in and out of your life as they returned or started a new global trek, you had only limited interactions with Jake. 

Before taking the job at the vineyard, you had only one distinct memory of Jake Seresin. On your nineteenth birthday, right before you left for London after your gap year, Jake and Jenny had been staying at your parent’s house. After dinner, as everyone sat around with glasses of champagne, Jake handed you a gift, wrapped in silver paper. 

Inside was a delicate gold necklace with a pearl dangling off the edge. You looked up in surprise. 

He smiled. “I saw it when we were in Vietnam and had to get it for you.” 

After dinner, as Jake cleared the table and you sat on the floor playing with Hugo, you reached up and touched the pearl necklace underneath your turtleneck collar. It was hidden, but it was there. 

“Drink?” Jake asked, emerging with a bottle and two glasses. 

“Do you ever get tired of wine?” you asked, standing up and stretching, the hem of your shirt coming untucked for a moment and you reached back down, sticking it into the top of your jeans. 

“Never.” He grinned, pouring the dark red wine into a glass and handing it to you as you settled onto the couch. Jake poured himself a glass, sitting in a wingback chair near the fireplace. 

“How are you?” you asked quietly. On the mantle was a picture of Jenny. She had been beautiful. Dark hair, piercing green eyes. A laugh that could fill a room. 

Jake stilled. Hugo sensed it because he left his place at your feet and made his way to Jake, nudging his head against Jake’s thigh. “It’s quiet,” he replied after a moment. “Being alone.” 

“How so?” 

“Leaves you alone with your thoughts,” Jake said. “A good thing, and a bad thing.” 

“I understand,” you whispered. 

Jake cocked his head to one side. “Do I need to pay you for this?” he joked. 

You hid your face behind your wine glass. “Sorry, force of habit.” There was a pause. Then, “Have you, um, dated? Since?” 

“A few dates, yeah. But everyone I met, they just didn’t hold up to her.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“She loved you,” Jake said. “That time that we came to see you in London and the two of you went shopping at Harrods? She came back to the hotel practically giddy. Said that even though the two of you had an age difference, she felt like you were a friend she could count on.” 

“I loved her, too,” you replied, a tear forming in the corner of your eye. “I’m so sorry I didn’t make it back for the funeral.” 

Jake shook his head. “Really, don’t worry about it. Jenny wasn’t one for funerals. Neither am I, for the record. If it ever comes to that.” 

“It won’t,” you replied instantly. “Jake Seresin? You’re unstoppable.” 

“So was she,” he said softly. “Life happens, Y/N. You can’t predict it. You just have to keep going and hope that you find something else that makes you happy.” 

“Have you?” you asked. “Found something else that makes you happy?” 

“I’m working on it.” 

Tag list:

@lyn-js @seresinhangmanjake @bobfloydsbabe @blue-aconite @clancycucumber230 @dempy @allbark-no-bite @teacupsandtopgun @na-ta-sh-aa @katiedid-3 @bradshawburner @xomrsalliej4787xo @xoxabs88xox @kmc1989 @shanimallina87 @rosiahills22 2 @emo @horseshoegirl @eminyourjeans

[sapphire-writes]

Thin Ice (modern!HOTD series)

pairing: Aegon x Reader & Cregan Stark x Reader

summary: Aegon Targaryen is a hockey-playing, party-loving, self-centered player. You've sworn off guys like that. But fate intervenes and suddenly you're thrown into a partnership with him, a quid pro quo of sorts.

word count: 4.0k

warnings: 18+ series (language, mentions of sex, sex toys), college AU, hockey AU

note: here it is my loves! I can't wait to see what you think 😘

series masterlist

Ch. 1: The Deal next chapter >

You swore to yourself you were done hooking up with athletes. You’re doing pretty well so far, a month into the fall semester, and still painfully celibate. And it wasn’t easy, especially when your toxic ex-friend with benefits kept blowing up your phone. 

During your freshman year at King’s Landing University, you had a fling with Jason Lannister, a lacrosse-playing, business major who had you in tears more times than he ever managed to make you come. It was a very long semester.

The asshole still had the nerve to hit you up every now and then via text.

“Look at this,” you say, shoving your phone in Sara’s face. 

The brunette glances up at you, stopping mid-bite of her panini, eyes widening at the messages. You’re sitting at your usual table for lunch at the north campus dining hall with Sara Snow and Helaena Targaryen, two of your best friends. It’s make your own panini day on Tuesdays, something Sara insists can never be missed. 

“Block him,” she says swallowing, as you flip your phone upside down on the table. 

Helaena nods her head, agreeing with Sara, not looking up from the biology notes she’s scrambling to complete before her class. 

“He didn’t even add a question mark,” you continue, “I’m not even worth proper punctuation.”

Sara snickers at that, taking a sip from her drink as you lean forward, head in your hands. Helaena and Sara lock eyes as you do so, sharing a knowing look between them. 

“He’s so annoying,” you groan, rubbing your temples.

“Who is?” Baela asks as she arrives, plopping into the seat to your right.

“Jay Lannister,” Sara tells her, and Baela glares at you. 

“Do not fuck him,” Baela warns fire in her violet eyes, pointing her finger at you to emphasize her words. 

Your mouth drops open in shock. She’s always calling you out, Baela can read you like a book.

“I’m not going to!” you tell her, but Baela shakes her head. 

“You are a horny bitch,” Baela says, still pointing, “get a vibrator, get a dildo please-”

“Baela, oh my god we’re in public,” you tell her, moving to cover her mouth.

She swats your hand away.

“Do you think I care?” she says, smiling.

“You’re the worst and I hate you,” you tell her, “and I love you, please keep reality-checking me.”

“That’s a lot of feelings,” Sara comments.

“What do I do about Jason, seriously?” you ask once more.

“Block him!” is the unanimous response. 

You sigh, but open your phone, deleting the text and blocking his contact. You hold the phone out to your friends, showing your dirty work. 

“There? Happy?” you tell them.

“I am,” Baela says, and Sara and Helaena nod in agreement. 

“You just need someone new to get under,” Sara comments, “and it’s the best time of year to do so.”

You blink at your best friend.

“I don’t follow.”

Sara sighs, as though you should know exactly what she’s talking about.

“Cuffing season?” she says, earning a blank stare.

Her eyes glance behind you, a smirk coming on her lips.

“And more importantly,” she says, head tilting to the side, tongue between her teeth, “hockey season.”

You turn in your seat, watching as the boys' hockey team enters the dining hall. Clearly, they’ve come from practice, all half-dressed, all freshly showered messes of men with shaggy hair framing their faces. They all sit together, like a pack of wolves, at the same table. Team bonding at its finest. 

“Gods do I love a hockey flow,” Sara groans, biting her lip. 

From October to April, the King’s Landing Knights own the ice. They own the entire college campus if you’re being completely honest. Most of the team lives together, throwing exclusive parties throughout the season at the so-called hockey house. 

Sara hums in appreciation, watching as Jace Velaryon brushes some damp hair from his face, t-shirt riding up to expose his midriff. You can’t see her face, but you know Sara looks like she’s ready to sink her teeth into him. You know Jace from class, he’s a nice guy. Sara would be the death of him. 

You turn back toward your friends. 

“Is this why we came to north campus?” you ask and Sara shrugs.

“It’s an added bonus to panini day,” she tells you, earning a laugh from Helaena.

“I told you, I’m done with college athletes,” you tell them, “they’re all the same. No offense, Hel.”

You nod to Helaena who simply shrugs. Her brother Aegon plays hockey after all.

“No, you should speak your truth,” Helaena encourages. 

Sara opens her mouth in shock, eyebrows knitting together as she brings a hand to her throat clutching imaginary pearls. 

“Don’t talk about my Jacaerys that way!”

You laugh, nearly snorting your drink out through your nose.

“Your Jacaerys?” you ask through a laugh.

Though you suppose Jace should be exempt from the athlete slander. 

“Well not mine yet, but soon,” she tells you, causing Helaena to raise an eyebrow.

“You’re going to bang my cousin?” Hel asks and Sara shrugs.

“It’s not my fault your entire family tree goes here,” Sara argues, causing Helaena to laugh.

“They've got a game this week. Come with me!” Sara begs, taking your hand in hers, “We’ll score invites to the afterparty at the hockey house!”

You tilt your head at Sara giving her an incredulous look, before turning to Baela and Helaena.

“It’s like she’s tuning me out on purpose,” you tell them, eliciting laughter.

“I am,” Sara agrees, “you need to get laid. Hard. Bed and bred, if you will.”

You choke on your drink again. A group of your peers at a nearby table glance in your direction and you’re sure they’ve heard Sara. 

“Bred!?”

“Chill, you’re on birth control!”

“Not everyone has a breeding kink, Sara!”

“Don’t you kink shame me in this sacred dining hall-”

As soon as the words leave Sara’s lips, Rhaena arrives at the table, backpack slung over her shoulders, eyebrows knitting together.

“What did I just walk into?” she asks.

You turn in your seat, grabbing her hand. 

“Save yourself,” you tell her dramatically, “it’s too late for us but there’s still hope for you.”

“Why are we talking about kink shaming at lunch?” Rhaena asks, sitting down. 

Sara leans forward as though sharing a secret. 

“Because I should be the one shaming our dear nerdy love here for not exploring her own,” Sara informs her, “Y/N doesn’t know what she’s missing out on.”  

“I don’t need to get laid,” you inform them, pointing at Baela, “as Bae said, I am simply going to use my vibrator more often.”

“You need a human dick,” Sara scolds, “or else you’ll be fantasizing about Jason the whole time you buzz buzz.”

Your friends know you too well. 

“I can’t even fantasize?” you ask pouting.

“I literally can’t with you,” Baela says, rolling her eyes, “Jason is a douche.”

“He once made you throw up from crying so hard,” Sara scolds, trying to bring you back to reality.

“He made you pay for takeout and didn’t order you any,” Helaena adds.

“He told you his-”

“Okay! Okay, I get it!” you tell them.

You know they’re right. But Jason is the friends-with-benefits situation you feel like you can’t let go of. Even though he was such an asshole to you. 

“But if I’m getting a guy, I want someone sweet, someone nice, and loyal,” you tell your friends, setting some ground rules. 

“You’re describing a dog,” Baela tells you, but Sara nods in agreement with you.

She bites her lip in encouragement. The conversation is going in her favor. 

“Someone who can dick you down, degrade you a little, explore some hidden parts of your sexual psyche,” she adds, wiggling her fingers. 

“Someone-”

“Someone like him,” Rhaena says, nodding back toward the hockey players. 

You all turn, watching as someone joins the team. Your eyes widen watching him strut over to where the rest of his teammates sit. He’s big, totally jacked, with shaggy brown hair that matches the color of his closely shaved beard, despite a small patch that appears more auburn than brown. 

His eyes are warm, the color of melted chocolate. He grins wolfishly taking his seat. Even though he’s wearing sweats you can tell his thighs are massive, matching the bulging biceps on display as he stretches. You let your eyes wander to another bulge you’re interested in, thoughts turning to mush in your head.

“Yeah,” you say, watching as he sits with the rest of the team.

“You know why his beard is like that, right?” Sara asks, eyes sparkling.

“Huh?”

“From eating too much pussy.”

“Sara!”

“What?” 

“That’s Cregan Stark,” Baela answers the unspoken question in the room.

Sara claps her hands excitedly.

“I know him, I saw his name on the online roster,” Sara says, “he’s 6’3, plays goalie, loves dogs-”

“You’ve been studying the hockey roster?” Rhaena asks, laughing.

Sara nods enthusiastically. 

“He’s a political science major,” Baela adds, “Cregan’s nice, I’ve had a couple of classes with him. Cool dude. Used to date Aly but I heard they broke up.”

“Which one?” you ask for clarification.

“Aly with a Y, not Ali with an I,” Baela adds, making the clarification between Alysanne Blackwood and Aliandra Martell. 

“This is it,” Sara tells you, her face serious, “he’s the one.”

You look at Cregan again and watch him laugh as Jace says something. You find yourself smiling watching them talk, watching Cregan’s smile light up his whole face.

“And look! They’re besties too, it's perfect,” Sara says, gasping and making a pouty face. 

“When is the game?” you ask, and Sara cheers. 

“I’ll find out the details,” she says, smiling. 

It’s a Tuesday, and you only have one afternoon class, thank the gods. Philosophy. Not the worst, not one of your all-time favorites. Luckily, being one of Helaena’s best friends meant access to her brother’s study guides. Aemond was seriously a philosophical genius. 

You have no friends in this elective, so you sit toward the front and try not to doze off as your professor drones on about Kant and Decarte. Your phone buzzes on your desk and you glance at the text that appears.

“I have your papers from last week,” your professor says, holding a stack of papers in the air, “some of you impressed me,” he says beginning to hand them out, “others may need to stop by the academic resource center.”

Professor Orwylle stops in front of you placing your paper face down before smiling.

“Well done,” he murmurs, continuing around the room.

You turn the paper over revealing your perfect score. A shiver of pride rolls through you. Academic validation always feels so good.

“Fuck,” a deep voice says, causing you to turn. 

Aegon Targaryen sits a few rows behind you, looking very displeased with the grade on his paper. You didn’t realize Aegon was in this class, though it's rather large to be fair, not your fault for not noticing him.

You have only spoken to Aegon a handful of times. Being friends with his sister and acquaintances with his brother, you’d bumped into him once or twice. He’s the eldest of his siblings, though they have an older half-sister they don’t really talk to. 

Aegon is slumped in his seat, silver hair pushed off of his face. He looks like he just rolled out of bed, dressed in a clean white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. His eyes have dark circles underneath them, and two earrings dangle from his left earlobe. 

He’s heartbreakingly handsome, truly the definition of a pretty boy with those pouty lips, dead violet eyes, and cherubic face. But he’s not your type. He’s a heartbreaker too, so you’ve heard, with a solid rotation of gorgeous girls on his arm.

Aegon Targaryen is a player. 

Aegon Targaryen is a party boy. 

Aegon Targaryen is an asshole. And you’ve sworn off guys like that. 

“What’s good bro?” you hear Arryx Cargyll ask him as you turn back to face the front.

“This class is a fucking nightmare,” Aegon groans.

“I did alright,” Arryx tells him, smiling.

“Fuck you,” Aegon tells his friend, “why did I choose this elective.”

“Can’t your grandfather just donate more money? Get you out of it?” Arryx asks him, shoving his papers into his backpack.

“Yeah that’s not going to happen,” Aegon says shaking his head. 

While Aemond and Helaena had no trouble getting into university, Aegon’s transcripts weren’t the best. He had a rough time during his teen years, in and out of programs. The only consistency was hockey, truly the only reason Aegon attended school at all. Even now. His grandfather spent a fortune donating to the school, funding the restoration of the library to have Aegon accepted. 

“Don’t forget, the midterm exam is only 2 weeks away, if you haven’t started studying, you’re already behind,” your professor tells you, dismissing the class. 

You gather your things, eager to leave the classroom. You text Sara as you leave the room, as Aegon remains seated. 

“Mr. Targaryen,” Professor Orwylle says, beckoning him forward.

Aegon stands and makes his way toward the desk.

“I assume your wish is not to fail my class,” he asks as Aegon taps his foot nervously.

“Coach has already threatened to bench me,” Aegon tells him, “I need a good grade on this midterm or it’s fucking over for me-shit sorry- just over.”

Professor Orwyelle smiles tightly at him, a pitying look in his eye. Aegon’s had a lot of stress from home, he knows how hard this semester has been on him. 

“Tell you what,” Orwylle says, “I suggest you reach out to one of your classmates, see if anyone can help you study, maybe do some tutoring. We can meet during my office hours, but I think you’ll need some additional support.”

Aegon nods, running a hand through his platinum hair. 

“My brother took this class,” Aegon tells Orwyelle, who smiles remembering him, “he’ll have to help me.”

“I’m not helping you,” Aemond says, his voice soft, but firm in the library.

Aegon groans, earning several glares from nearby students trying to study. He drops into the seat across from Aemond.

“You’re a twat,” he whispers to his younger brother, “Aem, please, don’t make me beg.”

Aemond closes the book he’s reading, a massive historical textbook, before rubbing the scarred tissue above his eyebrow. Aegon watches him wince, unsure if Aemond’s eye is paining him or simply Aegon’s presence. The injury happened years ago that caused Aemond to lose his eye, their cousin is still in juvenile detention due to the incident. 

“I can’t help you,” he tells Aegon, “I gave away all my study materials already.”

Aegon’s eyebrows furrow.

“To who?”

“One of Helaena’s friends.”

“Baela?”

“No.”

“Rhaena?”

“Nope.”

Helaena has so many friends they’re all blurring together. For an introverted STEM student, she’s quite popular. 

“Who then?”

Aemond sighs at Aegon’s pestering, rubbing his eyes. 

“Y/N,” he tells Aegon.

Aegon pauses for a moment, frowning. All the faces that Helaena surrounds herself with flash in his mind but he struggles to match a face to the name. 

“Which one is that?”

Aemond glares at him.

“Aegon-”

“What? Helaena has a lot of friends,” Aegon argues.

“She came on the ski trip last year,” Aemond reminds him.

Oh.

He did remember you. The annual Targaryen family ski trip, Hel brought you along as her plus-one. Aegon remembered you in a skimpy little bathing suit at the ski lodge spending most of the day cooped up in the hot tub reading a book than actually skiing. Helaena had nearly plucked Aegon’s eyes from his skull. Cruel of her really, to bring along a hot friend and then demand Aegon leave her be. 

“I know her,” Aegon says, “I didn’t realize she’s in my class.” 

“You’re very unobservant,” Aemond comments, beginning to pack his things, “don’t bother her, she’s a nice girl.”

Aegon frowns, motioning to himself.

“And I’m not a nice guy?”

“Aegon.”

“I just need help with studying,” Aegon promises, “that’s all. Seriously, I cannot get benched this season. I can’t ask for another bailout.”

Aemond watches him closely.

“Helaena will kill you if you mess with one of her friends,” Aemond warns him.

“I know,” Aegon agrees, “it’s just for studying, I swear.”

He motions across his chest, crossing his heart. Aemond stares and raises an eyebrow at him. Nothing with Aegon is ever that simple. 

“Hel is at the registrar’s office,” Aemond tells him, “if you want to ask her for Y/N’s number.”

Aegon clasps his hands together in appreciation.

“You’re a good brother,” he tells Aemond, standing.

“Mhmm,” Aemond says, going back to his work.

Aegon hurries across campus, luckily the registrar's office isn’t too far. He bumps into his sister as she’s leaving, frowning at her new schedule.

She looks up, noticing Aegon. 

“I can’t switch to Medieval Archeology,” Helaena complains to her brother, “there’s a waitlist. Now I’m stuck in the History of Valyria. As if Dad didn’t quiz us incessantly as kids on our own culture.” 

“I need a favor,” Aegon says following as Helaena walks down the hallway.

“Don’t you always?” she grumbles, taking out her phone. 

“I need your friend Y/N’s number,” he says and Helaena freezes. 

“Stupid question Egg,” she tells him, quirking an eyebrow, “No, I’m not giving you her number.”

“Please, I just-”

“Aegon,” Helaena says sharply, “Cassandra Baratheon doesn’t even speak to me anymore.”

Aegon winces dramatically.

“That was years ago,” he argues as Helaena refers to her high school best friend. 

“My friends are off limits,” she tells him, “capiche?”

“I just need some study-”

“CAPICHE?” Helaena says, louder this time, with more authority in her normally soft voice.

“ALRIGHT!” Aegon says sighing, “I get it, seriously. I just need a tutor. That’s it.”

Helaena narrows her eyes. 

“Fine. But I’m not giving you her number. You’re not getting easy access,” she says getting out her phone, “I’ll text her.”

Aegon sighs.

“Thank you,” he says and Helaena hums in response, sounding an awful lot like Aemond.

She says nothing as she texts and Aegon tries to peek over her shoulder causing her to glare at him. He reaches to turn her phone and she slaps his hand away. 

“She’s on the quad,” Hel tells him.

“Perfect, you’re a lifesaver Hel,” he says before leaving.

You sigh dramatically as Helaena leaves you on read. You tilt your head back looking up toward the sky enjoying the feeling of the cool fall air on your face. The sun is still warm, it's early October and summer is just starting to truly slip away. You’re still basking in the sun when Aegon Targaryen sits down in front of you. 

“What do you want, Aegon?” you ask, already annoyed by his presence. 

He leans forward, smiling, cradling his chin in his palms. He bats his lashes at you, looking ever so innocent. You raise an eyebrow at him. 

“The pleasure of your company,” he teases.

“Mhmm,” you answer, looking at him.

“I need a tutor,” he tells you, “I’m failing philosophy, and if I fail this semester I’ll be benched for the rest of the season”

Of course, it all comes back to hockey for Aegon.

“Why don’t you ask Aemond to tutor you?”

“He said no,” Aegon tells you, “I figured you’d be more open to my begging.”

Your cheeks turn red. 

“Well you thought wrong,” you tell him, “I don’t have time for tutoring this semester.”

“C’mon, I know you tutored last semester,” he tells you, pouting, “And midterms are coming up! What’s more important than sharing your knowledge with those less fortunate?”

Getting dicked down by Cregan Stark, you think to yourself but bite your tongue.

Aegon’s brows knit together, noticing the blush on your cheeks, the pause in your train of thought. 

“There has to be something I can do,” he says, “something I can help you with, tell me.”

“There’s nothing,” you insist, shaking your head.

“Come on, don’t be shy,” Aegon says again, “Tell me, what’s a guy got to do to earn your help?”

Sara would kill me if I waste this opportunity.

“Okay,” you say with a sigh, “I want invites to the party at the hockey house on Friday. Guaranteed entrance.”

Aegon raises a brow.

“Tutor girl has a thing for hockey guys now, huh?”

The blush on your cheeks darkens. Aegon smirks, giving you a once-over.

“You know Jace, why don’t you ask him to hook you up?”

“We’re not close.”

Aegon’s eyes narrow.

“Who do you have your eye on?” he asks, curiously.

“No one,” you lie to him, and he sighs, leaning back in his chair.

“Can’t help you if you’re not honest with me, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that,” you insist, “and I just want the invite.”

“C’mon give me a hint,” Aegon says, relentlessly, “What’s your type? What position, forward? Center? Left-wing? Goalie?”

Your treacherous body gives you away, breath-catching as he says the word and your lower lip gets caught between your teeth. Aegon grins triumphantly. 

“Goooalie,” he says, elongating the word.

He releases a boyish giggle as you turn red. He’s enjoying this too fucking much.

“Cregan Stark, huh?” Aegon chuckles, “Never took you for a puck bunny.”

You glare at him, snapping your book closed. 

“Are you going to help me, or should I direct you toward the academic resource center?” you snap, feeling all too embarrassed for even admitting to Aegon you have a crush on Cregan.

“Relax, bunny,” he teases, holding his hands up in surrender, “I’ll help you.”

He holds a hand out toward you. You glance at his outstretched hand, at the silver rings on his thumb and index finger. Aegon wiggles his fingers at you, expectantly. You raise an eyebrow at him and he sighs. 

“You want to fuck Stark or not?” Aegon asks, causing your eyes to widen, “cause he’s an enigma, you’ll need my help.”

“Enigma,” you say pursing your lips, “that’s a big word for you, Aegon.”

“Not the only thing that’s big,” Aegon answers, like it’s a preprogrammed response.

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline and you give him a disapproving glare.

“Sorry,” Aegon chuckles, “force of habit.”

“This alliance is time-limited,” you tell him, firmly setting a boundary, “I help you pass, you help me talk to Cregan.”

Aegon’s eyebrows raise, an amused smile on his face. You feel as though you’re selling your soul to the devil himself, the way he’s impishly grinning at you. 

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” he tells you.

You reach across the table, extending your hand for him to shake. With a smirk, Aegon takes your hand in his, the cool metal from his rings pressing against your fingers in juxtaposition to the warmth of his rough palm. A shiver rolls down your spine as he squeezes your hand. 

“It’s a deal.”

note: as always comments, likes, & reblogs are always appreciated, I hope this sets up the story for you and I'm excited to share where it goes! MWAH LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!! 😘

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[shhh-secret-time]

"i would love to see your take on stan/female reader/wendy…with the spice lol😙" - anon

Oh boy my first fic with Wendy~! And it's Stendy no less, lets fucking go! This request is a special one, because I seriously have never received a compliment so fucking funny in my life. The person who sent this I hope you enjoy it and god speed.

Warning: NSFW, Threesome, F/F/M, Strong-Language, Mild Dirty Talk, Overstimulation, Oral

Pairings: Stan x Fem!Reader x Wendy

Come on down to Aspen Snowmass Ski Resort!

You flipped the little brochure over looking at the picture of large snowy mountains and giant ski slopes on the front. Inside the small packet were three passes and a small metal key tucked away in the pockets of the folded paper. Three passes for everything this large Ski Resort had to offer and more! How Stan got ahold of these tickets was a mystery.

*Tickets and Passes at a discounted price! You only need to sit through a short presentation! Ask for more information over the phone!

"Wendy, can you bring out that black bag? I need to tie it down on the car!" Speaking of the shaggy haired man.

"Yeah! Give me a second!" Another voice calls from the blue painted house, the front door propped open with a silly looking garden gnome. "Stan what did you pack in this?! It's heavy!" Wendy comes out with the large, long black bag that Stan requested.

"Skiing equipment." He pauses to take the bag from her, meeting her half-way from the car to the house. "First aid supplies too just in case."

"You're not going to go down K-13 again, are you?" Wendy puts her hand on her hips looking up at the man, she has her lips pursed slightly and her eyes lowered.

"Well...what's the point of going to Aspen if we're not going to ski?" Stan gives her his best smile as he puts the bag on top of the car, going out of his way not to look her in the eye.

You can't help but giggle at their interaction, they're both so cute when they get like this. You already know how this is going to go, Wendy is going to warn Stan that he needs to be careful and not get wrapped up in just skiing the entire time, and Stan is going to reassure her that he'll be fine and that he won't.

But before they can go through the motions, they both stop and look over at you. Wendy has the most charming smile on her beautiful painted lips and Stan has a lazy smirk across his. Your cheeks flush from getting caught, you look down at the bags by your feet and quickly scoop them up.

As you walk over to put the bags in the car a pair of arms wrap around your waist pulling you away from it. Pulling you towards his chest, Stan slots you in between himself and Wendy. Another pair of arms wrap around your arm, Wendy pulls your arm close to her chest.

"Watcha giggling about baby?" Wendy's the first to ask, an amused glint behind her eyes.

"You wouldn't be laughing at us, would you?" Stan follows up with his own teasing, his chin resting on your shoulder.

"Maybe a little! I can't help it you guys are cute! Plus, I'm excited, a whole weekend with my favorite people~!" You chirp back at the both of them.

You rest your head on the top of Wendy's head and bring your free hand up to cup the side of Stan's face. Standing in the driveway surrounded by various colored bags, you're reminded of the wonderful life you live. Stan and Wendy have you swallowed up in this little hold, reminding you that you're loved.

Yeah, life was pretty great with your partners. You had a house on the street of Stan's childhood home. A dog with the softest fluffiest fur you've ever seen on a pupper, who was currently being watched by Stan's best friend. A warm bed, that would be cold without nestled bodies to keep it so. It was the three of you against the world.

Oh, and the stupid garden gnome, how could you forget Mr. Poppy. He was just as important to the family. No other gnome could hold open a door like him.

"Awwh! I'm excited too! I can't wait to try all the food and take pictures! It's going to be so pretty!" Wendy coos as she nuzzles her face into the side of your arm. "So, we better hurry and keep packing so we can get there in time for check-in."

She presses a kiss on the side of your cheek and then quickly places one on Stan's, who is still leaning on you. Stan only chuckles and goes back to tying the skiing equipment down, not before giving you both a little squeeze.

Wendy trots back into the house to grab the rest of the luggage as you begin to pack the car, Tetris style.

Once everything is neat and secured the only thing left to do was get in and decide who was going to drive. After a quick little game of nose goes, issued by Stan, Wendy was the one behind the driver’s wheel. Stan up front in the passenger seat and you in the back stretched out. Your softest pillow pressed against the car door and a blanket thrown over your legs. Stan's got his phone plugged into the aux chord scrolling through his endless playlists.

"So, what are we feeling, something heavy and loud, or energetic and feel good?" He asks just as Wendy backs out of the driveway.

You put the 3DS in your hand down on your lap for a moment, pausing your game for a moment. Harvest Moon can wait this was important. "Let’s start with feel good and go into heavy and loud. I say when we stop to get snack, we jump into something new!"

"Yes! Oh, I was just thinking about what snacks to grab! Whatever we grab nothing messy!" Wendy looks at you through the rearview mirror only to giggle when you give her a pout.

"Why are you looking at me?! I don't get messy snacks! Stan does!"

"Nah sorry babe, I'm with Wendy on this one." Stan chuckles just as he puts on a song.

"Of course you would be on her side to save your ass! You can't just agree with Wendy when it's convenient Stan!"

The car is filled with music and laughter the entire ride there. Stan trying to catch almonds in his mouth by tossing them in the air, only to miss when Wendy "accidently" swerved the car. Talking about each album selected and listened to, how it makes you feel and what you didn't like about it. It's mostly Stan just going on about different rifts and how it's impressive certain guitarists can pull of techniques, but hey it's what he liked. The two slowly take off their coats and throw them in the back seat, hitting you in the process. Protests are quickly cut short when you realize how warm they were.

 At one point Wendy had to pull over from giggling too hard at the image of you wrapped up in three coats, Stan's hat, her gloves, your blanket and pillow, and your shoes kicked off. Stan agreed to take over because taking you away from your comfy state would have been a crime, especially when Wendy calmed down and crawled into the back to lay with you. Laying across you, she nuzzles her face into the crook of your neck. You could feel her eyelashes brush against your skin the entire ride making you giggle and squirm. The both of you nap the rest of the ride, arms wrapped around one another, legs intertwined.

Stan would be jealous if it wasn't the cutest thing he'd ever seen. Just before he wakes the both of you up, he snaps a quick picture of your sleeping forms. It's his new lock screen. Maybe he can let both of you rest while he handles the check-in, after all he still has to drive up to the cabin.

The silver car pulls up to the cabin carefully pulling into the driveway. Colorado snow packed high against the side of the wooden building, a dim light flickering through the frosted windows. Stan leans back in the driver’s seat taking a moment to just enjoy the quiet. The soft sound of your breathing mixing and matching Wendy's in the back seat. He closes his eyes and smiles, thinking about how he had to claw his way to this point in his life but he's so glad he did.

He turns the car off and opens the door, the cold air nips at his skin as he leaves the warmth of the car. Maybe he can let the two of you sleep a little longer while he puts the bags away. It isn't until he has to untie the skiing equipment that you begin to stir, the cars gentle rumbling no longer present. Groggily you rub the sleep out of your eyes, the subtle weight of Wendy on your chest makes you hum. Your hands rest on the small of her back as you look around, the orange lights of the sunset peeking in through the car window.

It caresses the side of Wendy's sleeping face. Reds and yellows disappear behind the kisses you place on her face. Trailing gentle kisses down her cheek towards her jawline, subconsciously she tilts her head to the side giving you a little more access to her neck.

"Hm... Wendy, baby wake up." Your voice is still laced with sleep, knowing that if she doesn't move off you that you'll fall back asleep.

She stirs enough to let you know that she's slowly waking up, but when she doesn't get up and instead crawls up your body you let out a little hum. Contrary to popular belief, Stan wasn't the one that was hard to get up. Wendy was a little menace, doing everything in her power to stay asleep. Right now, she was using the fact that she knew she was adorable to try and catch a few more moments with you. It was working, but you could play dirty back.

Your lips continue to her neck where you pepper up and down the flesh. Your hands move up her shirt enough so that your fingertips brush against the exposed skin. She rewards your efforts with a little moan, pressing her body closer to yours. She can feel your smirk against her neck, her attempts to let her go back to sleep fall short.

You continue your assault on her neck, soft and feathery kisses turn heated. The sound of blankets rustling and being pushed off to the side onto the car floor, slips under the sound of her moans. You slot your leg between her legs bringing your knee up to keep her close.

"You gotta wake up pretty. I think we're here." The raspy purr of your voice sends a shiver down her spine.

Wendy rolls her hips against the fabric of your jeans just as you bite down on the sensitive spot of her neck. Your hand moves down her back again, sliding further past her hips to her the side of her thigh that's exposed. The short white skirt she put on today gave you a perfect look of those creamy soft thighs. Your fingers squeeze the flesh making her moan your name.

She leans up and tugs your jackets up, silently asking you to sit up with her which you do happily. Her hands push down the layers of jackets until they pool under you and leave you in just your tank top. It gives you enough time to pull away from her neck and work her shirt open, a few buttons near the collarbone. A glimpse of her brightly colored red bra pulls another purr out of you, your lips brush against her the valley of her breasts.

But before you can dive back into her, the car door behind her opens. Cold air claws at your exposed skin and the car light comes on. The interruption makes the cold sit in faster than it normally would.

"Having fun?" Stan's voice almost pulls you away from Wendy's chest, stops your wondering hand on the curve of her ass.

"Was just trying to wake our girl up. You know how she gets." Your response is muffled by Wendy, you look up at Stan with a playful glint in your eyes.

"Oh, I know. I was almost tempted to you let continue, but I figured you'd wanna get cozy by the fire."

"I-I'm not that bad!" Wendy tries to protest but it turns into a squeak when you bite down, leaving a bright red mark.

"Uh-huh. Stan's right though, we gotta get the bags inside." You slowly slide your leg out from under Wendy.

"Already got them inside." He says as he offers his hand to help Wendy out of the car, unable to take his eyes off the lipstick stain you left on her chest. "Checked us in too. I figured I'd give you guys a little more time. Kinda glad I did now."

Wendy's soft awwh's went away at the last comment. She rolls her eyes and pushes past him. "Thank you. Stan."

With her coat thrown over her arms she makes her way into the cabin leaving you and Stan in the cold to gather the rest of the coats and blankets. You both watch her walk up the stairs, her skirt swaying from side to side as she does. Stan looks down at you and smirks, there's a silent exchange of knowing looks.

"She's so cute when she's mad."

"Right? All pouty when she gets called out."

You take Stan's hand and pull him along to the cabin. He closes the car door and locks it with a press of a button. Wendy's already tossed her jacket up on the coat hanger resting beside the door, her shoes put neatly away in the corner. The crackling fireplace in the middle of the room was already lit and made the cabin feel so comfortable. It's almost enough to distract you from the warmth pulsing at your core. The little make-out session did more than just wake you up.

Stan shrugs his coat off his shoulders and grabs at the ends of the sleeves to tug it off further. That action alone shouldn't make you bite your lower lip but the way his muscles flex under his shirt and how he rolls his shoulders only encourages the feeling. You turn your head away from him and take a deep breath, a small part of you hopes that Wendy's struggling like you are.

And she is, she's running her fingers through her hair that's thrown over her shoulder trying to ignore Stan. Trying to ignore the look you give him and how it excites her, how Stan is blissfully unaware of the way you're both eyeing him. Poor Stan. Poor sweet dumb Stan.

He puts his jacket next to Wendy's and then takes yours from you doing the same. You smile at the kind gesture and go to explore the cabin. Maybe if you got away and cleared your head a little, you wouldn't burn up by your own desire. Walking past the living room and into the kitchen you took note of how cute everything looked, straight out of a little novel. The cabinets were a light brown color that matched the white kitchen counter perfectly, little shelves of cups and bowls tucked away. Although the ivy that hung down from the top of them was fake, it brought little splashes of green that made it look so pretty!

You turn back and walk back towards the living room. Stan and Wendy are sitting on the couch together, she's snuggled up against his side curled up. He's got his hand resting on her knee and his arm wrapped around her, she's playing with the fabric of his shirt whispering something to him. They laugh and he presses his forehead against her letting it rest there as they close their eyes, and just enjoy the presence of one another. Between the warmth of the fire and the love you feel for the two people in front of you it was almost enough to make you burn up. You smile softly and decide to give them some time alone.

After all you got to have a little time with Wendy first, it was only fair. Plus, you still had to see the bed! And what a bed it was! Dark blue blankets folded carefully over the bed, three pillows fluffed up to the point where they looked like clouds, and a giant white comforter that you just knew would keep you nice and warm. That and the mini fireplace in the corner, sitting there on a little platform with dried out logs of wood behind it. Bookshelves filled with various novels and decorations line the wall. Behind the bed is the largest window in the cabin.

You crawl over the bed towards the window, sitting up on your knees you look out at the frosted glass. Resting your chin on your arm, the sight in front of you is beautiful. Since you were asleep when he pulled up to the cabin you didn't get to really take in all the beautiful mountains that surrounded the area. The snow was starting to come down a little heavier now like it waited just for you and your partners. Dark green trees covered in that beautiful untouched sparkling snow.

With a happy little sigh, you flop back on the bed with your arms sprawled out, you stretch out to your fullest. The stretch feels good enough to make a little moan slip from your lips, your back arches up making the muscles feel better. Reminding you that lying in one spot for too long with another human on you isn't exactly the best for your body.

Your eyes open to the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. Stan and Wendy walk into the bedroom only to spot you already on the bed enjoying the silk on your skin.

"Told you this is where she'd be." Stan says leaning on the doorway, his forearms holding him up on the doorframe.

Wendy looks up at him and giggles, "This place is beautiful! How were you able to book this place? It must have cost a lot."

"Nah. It's my parents, they bought it when we were younger. Dad caved and just bought this cabin after that time share experience." He shrugs a little, his fingers run through his hair a little pushing up the black locks.

"I guess I'll have to thank your dad next time I see him." You say finally deciding to lean up.

"Don't. For the love of god don't, it'll go to his head." The way he says it makes you and Wendy burst out into laughter.

She decides to join you on the bed, sitting on the edge of the bed. Her petite form sinks into the soft mattress. Her hands pushed down on the bed forcing her up a little, the momentum causing her to bounce up and down on the bed. After she's satisfied enough with the bounce she leans back against your form. Your arms go to wrap around her waist pulling her close to your chest, you nuzzle back into her neck where your lips were moments ago.

She responds by pressing a kiss into your cheek. You retaliate with a little nip on her neck pulling a breathy giggle from her lips. The way it turns into a moan makes Stan's breath hitch in his throat; his eyes scan your forms. He watches the way your hand trails up her shirt slowly slipping the plastic buttons through the slots. Every button reveals more and more of her body, pushing it down to her elbows where it rests on the cubital.

Your hand comes up to the lace on her bra strap. Playing with the material before sliding down her shoulder, replacing the strap with your lips. Your other hand moves down to her thigh pulling the skirt up in the process. Stan's eyes widen when he sees the matching set of panties, stained a darker shade from her arousal.

"So pretty, did you wear that for us?" You whisper next to her ear as your fingers made quick work of moving up and down her slit. Adding just enough friction to make her roll her hips, trying to chase the pressure.

Wendy's pretty pink lip’s part to answer but it turns into a whimper and a moan. Her cheeks turn a bright red matching the lingerie that looks so beautiful against her skin.

"Come on Wendy, answer her. It's rude ya know." Stan finally breaks away from the spot that he was glued to. Finds it in him to walk over with that shit eating smirk across his face. He bends down and puts his arms on either side of you. He leans down and presses the softest kiss on her forehead. Compared to your hand and the way you’re squeezing every soft curve; his kisses feel so alien.

Ever stubborn, she goes to silent him with a kiss. It takes everything in Stan not to capture her lips in a heated kiss, but he's able to pull back and shake his head. Just far enough that Wendy can feel his lips ghost over hers, just enough to smell the gum he had in the car. The spearmint taste on her lips.

"Ah no. Bad girl." Stan tuts as his fingers trace her lips; the pads of his thumbs brush over her lower lip. Wendy's lips wrap around his thumb pulling it into her mouth, her tongue swirls around the course digit. You couldn't help but chuckle as you watched Stan's resolve break. He never could hold on long when she worked her magic.

Your hands slip down the band of her underwear, pushing the thin fabric past her hips and like clockwork, Stan helps you pull them the rest of the way down. He tosses them to the side before removing his thumb from her mouth. Not before pressing down on her tongue, making a pool of drool slide down her chin.

The way she looks up at him makes your heart slam against your chest and your body ache. Finally, after the slow drawn-out teasing, your hands pull apart her legs. Pushing them away from one another by the plump of her thighs. Her slit now bare to the man before her, her arousal coating her legs now that she no longer has the flimsy material to cover it.

Stan's on his knees in front of her, his arms tucked so snugly under her legs so that he can bring her closer to the edge of the bed. He lazily throws them over his shoulders and dips his mouth closer and closer to her aching heat. Just as his lips connect to the throbbing bud, you press a kiss onto her lips.

His lips twist and pull at the bud, a hungry tongue greedily swirling around to collect her arousal. The flat of his tongue presses into the nub until it wanders into her heat. Just as his tongue slips its way into her cunt, yours slips into her mouth. Devouring her in a different way. Every moan that escapes her lips is immediately swallowed by you. For as hungry as Stan was, you were starving.

The poor girl couldn't catch her breath. Between your kisses that already left her breathless, and Stan's jaw working her clit; she could feel the pressure in her core build up fast. It was like trying to ride out heavy waves during a storm. Colored nails intertwine with Stan's hair, tugging the locks up when he hits that perfect spot with his tongue.

"A-ahh!" Her moans pitch an octave, she bucks her hips forward against his mouth.

The kiss is broken just as her resolve comes crashing down. Stan can feel the way her walls throb and tighten around his tongue.

Wendy throws her head back when Stan continues, even with her climax coating his tongue it’s not enough for him. His eyes flutter shut with no intention of stopping. He'd continue lapping up every delicious part of her until his jaw ached.

She tries to push his head off, tries to close her thighs around his head. But he keeps his hands firmly on her thighs. When she tugs his hair again, he only lets out a deep moan which vibrates up against her cunt.

Little beads of tears begin to prickle at the corner of his eyes. The overstimulation was a painful pleasure. Her breath hitches in her throat, a silent scream dies along with it. The sound of Stan's mouth working its magic fills the roo. The heavy exhales coming from him as he struggles to catch his breath, the fact that he'd rather suffocate than come up for air makes you chuckle.

After Wendy cums around his tongue again, and the light mascara around her eyes begin to bleed down her face, do you tap the side of Stan's shoulder. "Alright cowboy let her go, I think she's learned her lesson." Stan's eyes meet yours, looking up through the darkened blues.

He flicks his tongue a few more times, pulling a cry from the poor woman. He moves his lips to the inside her thighs. A series of kisses trail down her quivering thighs, he hums softly.

Wendy's body is spent, you can tell from the way she's practically lifeless against you. Her mind is still trying to catch up from it's high. Your hands work on massaging circles on her hips helped to anchor her back down.

"I think you killed her Stan." You chuckle, pushing Wendy's hair out of her face.

"Ya think? I couldn't help it; she tastes so good." His purr sends a shiver down your spine as he leans up towards your face. "Wanna taste?"

When you nod and smirk at him, he bends down and finally captures your lips in a kiss. The difference between their kisses is night and day. Wendy's are always soft, passionate, playful ones. Stan's are hungry, firm ones; like he's trying to put all his feelings into one action.

You can taste it. Every bit of love he has for you on the edge of his lips. Wendy on his tongue. Desire in the way it twines with yours. Wendy's half open eyes watch, her mouth opened in awe. The way your tongues work in each other's mouths brings a red hue to her face.

Her blush deepens when she sees the thin string of saliva that connects your tongues snap. Stan's the first to pull away, lips still wet from everything. He cleans the corner of his mouth with his thumb and smirks.

"Hmm...he's got it out for you Wendy." When you call her name, she looks up. The confusion written on her face only makes you chuckle. "Because that wasn't enough, it's my turn."

She was going to die. Wendy Testaburger was going to die somewhere in Aspens. The comfy warm cabin was going to be her coffin, and her cause of death was going to be her two insatiable partners.

You don't give her much time to protest, not that she would anyway. You pull away from her and begin to strip down to nothing, Stan works on moving her back against the pillows. At least she'll be comfortable when she dies.

Stan whispers to her softly, "You can give us one more Wens. It's only fair, she didn't get her turn."

You smirk back at the bed as you toss your clothes away. She looked so cute in nothing but her pretty white blouse still wrapped around her arms. Beads of sweat starting to trail down her body, you know you're not the only one watching as they trace every gorgeous curve.

But you are the one that gets to settle between her legs. You crawl over until your face is inches away from her poor cunt. Your eyes find the marks Stan's left behind and decide that it's not nearly enough. Her pale skin made the red splotches pop so pretty, why not add a few more. So, you leave teeth marks and little bruises where Stan's mouth hadn't touched.

Stan's enthralled, but not enough to sit there and do nothing. While you worked your clothes off, he did the same. Dark blue jeans thrown to the side, faded band shirt alongside it. It isn't until he puts his hand on your hip that you realize he's propped up behind you.

Standing on his knees, he's pulled your hips up towards his aching member. Wendy's little whimpers and moans only serve to make his cock throb. His hands fist the flesh and pump it a few times. Watching your face get closer and closer to where moments ago he had his.

"Fuck that's hot." It slips out of his mouth before he can stop it. At this point he's not sure he wants to, just pressing the tip of his head against your slit isn't enough. He needs you both to hear what you're doing to him. "You're so pretty like this. Eating our girl out like that, and fuck-" He paused to deliver a firm slap on your ass. "-this ass of yours."

The pain makes you moan out, the vibration shoots up against Wendy's clit. She cries out and bucks her hips against your lips, which you use to capture her clit. Lips wrapped around her abused bud.

"Oh god~" Wendy throws her head back, any work to get her to come back down from her fucked out mental state is thrown out the window.

Her moans encourage you, selfishly lapping and sucking at every nerve until you find a rhythm that causes her to see stars. Stan picks up on it, he waits until your tongue is flicking her bud back and forth before diving into your cunt. Firm hands keep your hips still, so he doesn't throw off your tempo.

Again, he doesn't even bother holding back his moans. Your arousal lets him slip past your folds and snuggly against your walls perfectly. He pushes until he's halfway buried deep into you, only to slowly pull back out. For as good as you're making him feel, he's so focused on the way you're making Wendy feel. Every time you moan into her, she arches her back, and every time she moans at the sensation it makes his cock throb. The cycle keeps the fire burning. Lust and pleasure wrapped so tightly together.

Wendy's mouth is lulled open, and her eyes are rolled up to the back of her head. Stan knows she's not going to last from looks alone. So, he begins picking up his pace. His snapping forward with such force it causes a ripple across your flesh. He's making it hard to focus on anything but the way his cock feels buried in you.

Thrust after thrust brings you closer and closer to the edge. You're dissolved to nothing more than sloppy tongue thrusts. Pumping in and out of Wendy like Stan is doing to you. Every thrust from him trickles down to her. Pushing you against her only to pull you back against him. But you're not the only one losing yourself.

Stan's been hard since he opened the car door and found you two in a heated state. He's been fighting the urge to fuck you both senseless since Wendy first came around his tongue. With every flutter of your walls, he goes harder and deeper.

After a particular strong thrust in just the perfect spot, you feel your resolve crumble. A white-hot flash goes across your eyes and down to the pit of your stomach. Your walls clamp down around him, trying to milk him for all he's got.

"O-oh fuck! Fuck you're squeezing me!" He growls so loudly when you do. He crawls over your form, sweaty chest pressed against your back, hips pushing you further into the bed. His mouth latches onto your shoulder where he bites down. Hard.

Wendy's fingers are in your hair pulling your head up towards her chest. She's already cum for the third time, possibly the fourth. She's stopped counting and all she can focus on is the way you both feel against her. She watches the way Stan drills into you until he can't keep the rhythm anymore.

His hips stutter, slap against your ass one last time and then he spills his cum into you. Thick hot ropes of cum paint your insides until it's dripping down your thighs.

Heavy breaths and shaky moans. Slow inhales and breathy exhales. Whatever energy Stan has left is used to keep himself from falling on top of you. He pulls his teeth from your skin, pressing a soft kiss on the mark he's left behind. A quiet apology.

Eventually he pulls out of you and falls to his side next to Wendy. His arms find home around her waist where he tugs you both towards his chest.

".... this vacation already rules." Stan breaks the silence, pressing a kiss into your temple.

"It's only the first night." You giggle, tossing him a lazy smile.

"Yeah, we still got the hot tub to test out." Stan says with a smirk.

Come on down to Aspen Snowmass Ski Resort!

"Insatiable. Both of you. I'm going skiing at least once or I swear to God." Wendy huffs but the smile on her face betrays her. The corner of her lips twitch as she tries to resist.

You might get some skiing done.

[itsanerdlife]

Wicked Intentions 8

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader // (Seriously close) Steve Rogers x Reader // Clint Barton x Reader // T’Challa x Reader.

Warning: Violence. Language. Bullying. Girl Fights. Name Calling. Degrading Comments. Angst. Degrade of Woman (to a point). Criminal Life. Illegal Shit. Fights. Alpha Males. Stalking.

Characters: Peter Stark. Howie Stark. Bucky Barnes. Steve Rogers. Clint Barton. TC (T’Challa). Ben Reilly. Cledus Kasady (CK). Brock Rumlow. Gwen Stacy. Wanda Maximoff. Becca Barnes. Amore Lorelei. Kitty Pryde. Frank Castle. George Barnes. Joe Rogers. Winni Barnes. Pepper Stark. Wade Wilson. Eddie Brock. Warner Strucker. Barney Barton. Bobbi Morse. Pietro Maximoff. Logan.

A/N: This is a Bully Romance. High School setting. Mafia Family Life. Woman are on a lower level than males in their world. Just a heads up. This is the third installment of the series. Bad Intentions, Cruel Intentions, and Wicked Intentions.

Credit: Huge shout out to @ml7010 for all the help, pushing, hyping up, putting up with my changes midway through. If it wasn't for this peach, y'all never would have gotten this series or nearly as far as I am now.

Glasses clink as we giggle, sipping orange juice. Breakfast before the wedding.

“How does Bucky feel about you not going home last night?” Gwen smirks at me.

Shrugging a shoulder. “Couldn’t tell you, I haven’t spoken to him.”

“Didn’t you tell him last time, to let him yell at you and kiss you, when he fucks up again?” Becca lifts a brow at me.

Sipping from my glass I shift to look at her. “Whose side are you on?” Squinting at her.

The other two giggle quietly. Becca rolls her eyes. “Aren’t you two stepping on your own agreement with your fiancé?” Becca sasses me.

“You ever been hit with a waffle?” I ask, both of us grin suddenly laughing.

“Not something I thought would come out of the mouth of the head of the table.” Pietro chuckles, taking the other open seat, at the head of the table.

The table falls silent. Each of us stare at him.

“Pietro.” Wanda whispers.

“Little sister.” He grins at her. His stark white hair, a shaggy length on him, but well maintained. His pretty blue eyes flicker with excitement and more than likely mischief. His facial hair, short and well kept, and new from when he was sentenced.

“You’re out.” I lift a brow at him.

He shrugs, settling back in his chair. “What was the point of escaping with only a few days to release.” He winks at me. I smirk, rolling my eyes at him.

“That wouldn’t stop you and we all know that.” Taking a bite of my waffles.

“Not all of us.” Pietro suddenly leans forward, his hand out, over my plate. “Hello,” he purrs.

“Don’t purr at her.” I gag. “She’s marrying Howie.” My eyes roll again.

“Rebecca. Pietro. Excuse him, he has no home training.” I sass.

Becca laughs, shaking Pietro’s hand. “Rebecca Barnes.” She introduces herself.

“Howard is a lucky man.” He nods, glancing over her.

“He’s an idiot. Let’s be real.” I snort.

The table chuckles, nodding.

“You’re glowing Gwen.” Pietro turns his attention.

“Thank you.” She lights up, glancing down at the belly, small but noticeable, she’d grown.

“Now,” Pietro leans back again “to my little sister on her big day.” He picks up a water glass, lifting it towards Wanda, before taking a drink.

Wanda sips slowly, eyes on her brother. “Do I want to know?” She finally speaks.

“Know what?” Pietro sets the water down.

“What does father have you up to now that you’re out.” Her tone getting annoyed.

Becca side eyes me.

Gwen quietly eats her French toast.

I’m the only one openly watching them.

“It’s your wedding day, no need for business, сестра.” Pietro hums with his accent.

Wanda glares hard at me.

“Pietro,” I sigh.

“I promise.” He laughs, holding his hands up. “No business today. You’re head of the table now; we can talk another day.” He nods.

“I knew it!” Wanda huffs loudly, trying to avoid a scene.

Pietro sighs.

“The wedding push, you getting out early. As she takes over the table!” She whisper shouts at him, thrusting a hand at me. “You and dad are using me again.” She snaps through her teeth at him.

“Red, it’s fine. Breathe.” I speak softly to her. “Anger and tension headaches do not go with a wedding.” Gwen rubs her hand down Wanda’s back, soothing her.

“Y/N,” she huffs, defeat in her eyes. I nod, understanding.

“Pietro,” I turn looking him straight on “do not fucking ruin this day for your sister, don’t breathe a word of your business, do not try to speak of table matters to me, on this day. You might have done time, but what I was doing here in the war, was far worse. Do not play with me, I have bodies on my hands, and I will not think twice of adding yours to them.” I warn him sweetly.

Pietro grins at me. “Yes, boss.”

Rolling my eyes at him, I turn back to the table.

“Going to talk to Bucky today?” Gwen grins at me.

“I hate you.” Glaring at her. It only earns laughs from the girls.

------

“You’re killing me, doll.” He hurries after her as she walks away from him. Down the hotel hall. “I gave you one night, that’s all you’re getting.” He huffs, taking long strides to keep up with her. She doesn’t reply or spare him a look.

“We made a deal, Y/N.” He warns her. She pauses, making him stop quickly.

She doesn’t reply but glares at him, a dark, dangerous, lethal stare.

“Jesus.” He takes a step back from her.

Deep brown eyes, filled with anger stare back at him, making him uncomfortable.

“You fucking promised James.” She speaks through her teeth.

“And you knew I would fuck up again! You said it!” He huffs, thrusting his hand out.

Her head tips, watching him. She shakes her head, walking away again. He groans, sighing.

“This isn’t over Y/N Stark.” He calls after her. “Act out again, and I’ll ruin your best friend’s wedding with a fight, don’t test me.” He grins,

when she pauses, she glances back at him. “I’ll kill someone in the middle of this wedding if you think about it, Chaos, try me.” Still grinning, shrugs, backing up. Turning slowly he walks away.

Clint’s holding the door to the hotel room open when he steps up.

“To normal people that’s really fucked up.” He chuckles.

“To chaos,” Steve shakes his head.

“It’s a declaration of love.” Peter laughs.

“You gotta match her fucked up.” Sam grins.

He chuckles, taking a seat in the hotel room. “And we all know I match that.”

“We knew that the day she walked into Saints and smirked at you.” Clint pushes open the hotel window, lighting up a smoke.

Steve sighs, kicked back in his chair. “When she laid out Quill, I knew we were fucked.”

Bucky smirks at them, shrugging. They weren’t wrong.

“She’s chaos.” Peter sighs.

“No shit.” The room chuckles softly together.

“Hey Bucky,” Sam glances over.

“Yeah?”

“Please don’t kill anyone during my wedding.” He grins.

Standing up, Bucky walks to the window, taking Clint’s smoke. “No promises.” He grins out the window.

“No wonder he’s marrying our sister, they’re both chaos.” Peter sighs, shaking his head.

-------- Everything Peaches 12/8/22 @mo320 @ml7010 @babizza @kmc1989 @joannie95 @coley0823 @rileyloves5 @sexyvixen7 @duckestylez @abschaffer2 @drayshadow @shirukitsune @xoxabs88xox @carostar2020 @rosalynshields @hookslove1592 @royal-sunflower @iwillbeinmynest @bellamy-barnes @geeksareunique @happydeanpotter @fanfic-n-tabulous @steel-blue-eyess @mariekoukie6661 @bless-my-demons @notyourtypicalrose @lets-talk-about-xyz @loving-life-my-way @shinycupcakebaker @also-fangirlinsweden @stupendous-science @daughterofthenight117 @dandelionsmarkthegrave @physically-a-cheesecake @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

Bucky 'Fuck Me Up' Barnes: @nickyl316h @jbbarnesgirl @lets-roggerthat @this-is-mycrisis @kaylaphantomhive

Series tags: @sebastians-love @otterlycanadian

[yeehawbvby]

Snip! | Piers x OC Maxine

Rating: Teen+ (Cursing)

Summary: It had been about 15 years since Max's haircut. Given it now threatened to brush her ankles, she wanted to change that.

She went into this mission with intentions to chop off a foot or two, but wound up with a shaggy, uneven mess that desperately needed saving. Luckily, Piers was more than willing to help.

(Or, how Max's hair got to how it looks now ^^)

Author’s note: This is part of a series of one-shots! Please see my SWSH Masterlist for the recommended reading order.

Give it some love on ao3!

“It can’t be that bad.”

Max sniffed and wiped her tear-stained face on her forearm. She was surrounded by chopped up chunks of hair, all from her own head, which looked… well… 

“It’s like if a toddler took a pair of squiggly crafting scissors to my hair and went crazy.”

“Now how’d you manage that?”

“I dunno, I’ve never cut hair before! I didn’t think it could be that hard.”

“Well,” Piers sighed, holding back a laugh, “I’ll see what I can do when I get home, yeah?”

“Or I could shave my head.”

“You’ll be the shiniest egg in all of Galar.” Piers was happy to hear some wet laughter on the other end — a welcome change from the quiet sobs he’d been hearing prior. “Seriously, though. I’ll fix you up, alright little ghost?”

A deep sigh racked through Max as she rested her head against the cool tile wall behind her. “’Kay, fine.“ 

She had the apartment to herself for a majority of the week, seeing that Piers was touring a Galar for all of it, while Marnie had been visiting and camping with some friends for the latter four days.

And Max loved to be alone. 

She could sing — something she enjoyed but was too shy to ever do within hearing range of others:

One time, Piers had heard her singing softly to herself in her room while she doodled in an old, beaten up notebook she rarely used, and she was horrified when he joined in from the opposite side of the wall. Couldn’t even bring herself to talk to him for most of that day.

He thought her voice was lovely. It wasn’t the idea of her singing badly that mattered, though. It just felt weird to be heard and she didn’t like it and never wanted that to happen ever again ever. She couldn’t explain why, even to herself.

Alone, Max could also get a bunch of chores done without interruptions or distractions:

She was able to clean the kitchen without someone else coming in and needing to use it. Mop the floor without worrying that someone would emerge from their room and slip and hurt themself. She had the freedom to choose meals for herself, and only herself. She enjoyed cooking for the others, and having them cook for her, too — a lot, actually. But sometimes she just wanted to whip up a sandwich, or a mediocre rice cooker curry, or anything small and quick, and call it a day.

Most importantly, though, Max could happily laze about when she was by herself. Being disabled mentally meant needing a lot of time alone and in a safe space to recoup from her interactions, at work and otherwise; being disabled physically, on the other hand, meant she’d never pass up the opportunity to be really, truly cozy and pain-free. 

Piers and Marnie knew that, and they never made her feel bad or judged her for it. In fact, the two did their best to support her. Always. Piers was her rock, and now that Marnie had grown into a tween, she was becoming one too. A pebble, if you will.

Unfortunately, Max still couldn’t help but feel a sense of shame for her needs. Being ridiculed as a little kid for her ineptitude in things her older and more abled siblings could easily do had taken a permanent toll on her; and because of that, she found it hard to spend most of her time laying down when other people were around to see it.

With all of that being said, though, without her roommates around to keep the monotonous of daily life a little more exciting, Max had grown dreadfully bored… which led her to her current situation. 

The trainer just wanted to end her staycation with a bang. She hadn’t had her hair cut since she was eight or nine, and being in her early-mid 20s now, it was a change she thought it was time to make.

How hard could it be? she had wondered to herself less than an hour prior, tying her meter-or-more of hair in front of her torso and chopping away after watching a single PokeTube tutorial. 

I can fix this, she’d thought to herself on several occasions in the process, each time feeling less confident and more panicked. 

She knew her brown tresses leached into pink when they were cut, but she had no idea of the rate in which it would happen, and failed to consider it going into this project. Her body hair never grew beyond a short stubble, and said stubble was always pink because of how well she kept up with her shaving routine. 

She had no idea what to expect from her longer strands, and was immediately overwhelmed upon discovering that the color shift was nearly instant. 

So, Max kept snipping, and snipping, and crying, and snipping some more, staring at her reflection in horror while she tried over and over again to save herself. After one particularly uneven cut, Max tossed her scissors aside and plopped down onto the bathroom floor. It was around then that Piers had called her.

Upon hanging up, she sat with her chin on her knees and her knees tucked close to her chest, her misdreavus snuggled up to her side. Typically when Max did anything with her hair, the mischievous little pokemon would try to interfere — to chew on it, to play with it, to tug it just to annoy its human for fun. This time, it resisted the immense urge to have a field day with all the scrapped hair on the ground and did its best to be another rock in Max’s cozy little garden instead, offering some comforting sentiments in the form of chirps and nuzzles.

Since it was about two in the morning, Max didn’t need to worry about leaving the apartment in her current state. She at least had that to ease her mind a bit. Piers was due home by the afternoon, which meant she’d hopefully look more normal before needing to run any errands again.

What she didn’t know was that Piers had been on his way back long before calling her. His final show finished up right on time, and he was able to dodge his fans well enough to make it to the tour bus and start the trek to Spikemuth right away. He only stopped about an hour into the drive to freshen up with a quick shower in the tiny onboard bathroom. 

Piers missed his city, he missed his bed, and most importantly, he missed Max; and, knowing she was bored and lonely for the past day or two, Piers figured his early arrival would be a pleasant surprise for her. His assumption was only solidified by their most recent conversation.

The girl in question had only just begun sweeping up the remnants of her massacre when Piers made it back, having spent a long time sulking before she stood back up. She was lost in the sound of her music playing and the light scraping of bristles against the ground when a baritone “Boo” snapped her out of it.

Clamping her eyes shut and squeaking out a short scream, Max swung her broom at the door, convinced that a stranger had broken in. When the visitor caught the weapon and pulled it towards them, she felt her stomach leap to her throat.

This is it, she thought. Of course I have to die with a fuckass haircut.

Upon hearing Piers’ laugh, smelling his signature scent of musky cologne with a whisper of cigarettes, and feeling his long arms wrap around her, though, Max gasped and latched onto her “intruder,” nuzzling her face into his chest.

“Dickhead,” she mumbled against him.

“I’m hurt.”

“Like hell you are.”

Piers chuckled again, and Max sighed, pressing her cheek to the reverberation of his chest. She missed him so much.

She needed this.

She needed him.

After a short silence, the man took a strand of Max’s hair between his fingers and observed, “You weren’t kidding, huh?”

“I did my best…”

Amused, Piers huffed one last time before detaching. “One sec.”

After changing into something cozier — a blue, cropped muscle tank and pink pajama pants — Piers retrieved a stool from their makeshift dining table, plopped it in the center of the small room, and patted it. As Max sat down and fiddled with the hem of her own blue tee, Piers gently combed through what remained of her tresses.

To fix this, he’d have to cut her hair short. The furthest her damage went was close to her shoulders, if not a little higher than them. Seeing his friend’s hair like this was already strange, considering he’d only ever known her to have hair that was — at its shortest — reaching her butt. He could hardly imagine what she’d look like in the coming moments.

“What length were you aiming for?”

Max shrugged, ignoring her nerves as Piers began cutting. “Mid-back, maybe.” She peeked up at him in the mirror and winced in response to his grimace. “I know it’s a lost cause.”

“At least it’ll grow back,” he reassured her. “Who knows, maybe you’ll like it short.”

“Shaving is still an option if I don't.”

“Alright, dramatic.”

The two fell quiet, Max basking in the feeling of Piers’ fingers in her hair; in the way he’d occasionally and softly ask her to tilt her head a certain way, or hum along to whatever song was playing from her phone. She nearly doze off as comfort washed over her until Piers got close to her ear, whispered, “Almost there, love,” and gave her shoulder a light squeeze. 

That woke her right up.

By the time he was finished, the man had successfully cut Max’s hair to just above her shoulders, forming it into a shallow u-shape rather than a blunt bob. And as much as he’d adored her absurdly long hair, he loved how this looked.

It was more fitting. As if she looked more like herself, somehow. Without the weight of the long locks that came close to rivaling her height, Max looked fluffier. Scruffier, but in a good way. The pink of her hair stood out more and complemented her skin’s rosy undertones, making her look just a little less washed out, too.

But it still felt like something was missing…

Max had yet to see what her new length looked like, a little too nervous to look in the mirror just yet while Piers scrutinized his work. When he wrapped back around to her front and played with some of the strands near her sideburns, she grew worried that he didn’t like it. He cut his own hair, as well as Marnie’s, so she knew Max could trust him to cut hers; but there was a pit of doubt in her stomach as she prepared for whatever criticism he was about to bring.

That is, until he asked, “Can I try something?”

The fact that he still wanted to experiment gave her some hope. “Depends,” she answered, shyly meeting his gaze. 

Piers inspected Max’s face a little more, trying his best not to swoon too much at the way she looked up at him, eyes curious and lips slightly pouty. 

Focus. 

After a beat, he murmured, “You’d look fuckin’ adorable with a fringe.” It was just as much of an observation as it was a suggestion.

Max wasn’t new to his compliments, but it didn’t mean they didn’t still fluster her every time. Her eyes widened and cheeks reddened as she froze for a moment, both absorbing his praise into her heart and taking his words into consideration.

I mean, if he thinks it would look good on me…

Max gave Piers a curt nod — his sign to go for it. 

She was reminded that, despite having hugged, kissed, and cuddled plenty, close proximity with him still frazzled her just as much as it comforted. Her cheeks felt like they had been breathed on by a charizard as Piers crouched down for a better view, holding her face in his palms for a moment before creating the part where her new bangs would go. 

She swiftly averted her line of vision, avoiding his eyes and missing the way he reactively smiled at the color on her cheeks.

Another few moments went by, and Piers had completely transformed her. As he put the scissors down and gave Max one last combing, he said, “Go on. Have a look,” with a gentle upward curl on his lips.

Fidgeting with her nails, Max muttered, “I’m scared.” And she was. Change was hard for her. Even though she felt this could be a positive change, it was still something new nonetheless. 

“Hey,” he tilted Max’s chin up with the comb in his hand, forcing her to meet his eyes and her tummy to flutter. “You look really fucking good like this.”

His sincerity could have killed her. 

With a deep breath through her nose and her teeth digging into her bottom lip, she nodded, before swiveling herself towards the mirror.

She was taken aback for a moment. Max barely recognized herself, and yet — similarly to Piers — she thought it suited her way better than her old style. 

She reached up and ran her fingers through her loose waves, which felt softer than they had in ages. It all looked thicker too, for better or worse. She shook her head to test how it felt, and couldn’t help but grin at its newfound weightlessness.

“How did you even do that?” Max muttered, looking at Piers through the mirror while she krabby-handed with both thumbs and pointers.

While she spoke, he placed himself behind her and leaned forward, his palms resting on the sink on either side of her and his chin planted atop her scalp. Between the excitement of her new look and this proximity, the stim was necessary. 

“Witchcraft.”

“Misdreavus never evolved,” Max pointed out, “who would you have learned that from?”

“I have contacts.”

Max tilted her head back against Piers’ chest, looking up at him and sending a jolt to his heart this time. “What you really have is something on your face.”

“What?”

Max reached up and squished his nostrils together, his button nose becoming a thin line in her grasp. She snort-laughed as her hand was swatted away, then began cackling and kicking when Piers lifted her off the ground, carrying her out of the room and placing her in the center of their tiny kitchen. 

“What are you—“

“Make us some tea, yeah?” Max’s transport asked while he walked backwards towards the hall.

She barked out a laugh. “Make it yourself!” 

“I’ll be too busy cleaning your hair.”

“Why don’t you make the tea and I clean the hair, then?”

“Gotta piss,” he shouted through the closing bathroom door, “two corviknights, one tinkaton, or whatever.”

“You suck.” Despite her words, Max happily got to work on their drinks.

When their tea was made and the bathroom had been cleaned, the pair curled up on the couch and caught up with each other. They’d been in touch for most of the week, so there wasn’t much to be said; but they valued moments like this, and neither of the two wanted the night to end yet. Their time apart was the perfect excuse for that.

Eventually, Piers rested his head in Max’s lap. And eventually, Max found her digits weaving through his hair, braiding tiny sections, twirling it around her fingers… 

While she mourned her own hair to a certain degree, at least she had his to play with.

[gonegrove]

Thinking about heather x eddie bc I’m nothing if not a champion of rare pairs in this comm

But just the “god he’s so fucking LAME and CRINGE and EMBARRASSING I need him CARNALLY” energy is so intense. Heather who prides herself in being The Bitch™️ and boasting about how all the boys are thirsty for her but she’s Too Good for them realizing that she wasn’t into popular hot boys because her type was scrawny shaggy haired freaks with awful personalities and a huge gatekeeping streak.

Heather realizing that the only one who can go toe to toe with her in a vaguely toxic and absolutely mean argument about some asinine shit like A Movie or SoCiEtY is Eddie Fucking Munson and it’s also unbelievably erotic to her and being like “i need to kill myself IMMEDIATELY”

Heather and Eddie as Janet and frank n furter in a rocky horror production bc they’re both attention whores, both into music as a Serious Thing and Eddie just loves anything not mainstream and music related so like ofc he went in for it. And the whole thing quickly turns into a 2 man cats the musical orgy energy shitshow bc they both just get TOO INTO PERFORMING. She’s trying to act soooooooooo normal but sadly eddie on stage singing his heart out half naked is literally too erotic for her. The entire crews job turns into just keeping them from screwing back stage like the horny theater kids they are. Good thing too bc she’s always this close to giving him a bj and if she actually did she’d have to walk into the lake never to return.

She’s actively avoiding any place he’s preforming bc she cannot be held responsible for what she might do if she sees him on stage playing guitar and she doesn’t wanna be arrested.

Eddie realizing that the most popular girl in school (I stand by heather being the Main Bitch and Chrissy simply gaining her crown after her death) is HILARIOUSLY INTO HIM. LIKE ANGRY HORNY. And first being like wtf???? Before he sees the opportunity here for Evil and is immediately delighted. Decides it’s open season for revenge of several years of bullying but pointing out to her how she wants him sooooooo bad it makes her look stupid.

Eddie challenging her to read all of Tolkien’s works, and Heather who’s physically incapable of backing down doing it and coming back with notes like “fëanor is RIGHT actually, so is melkor. I cannot believe you like this pansy ass gay apologetics shit what are you catholic??” And he’s both LIVID ON SO MANY LEVELS but also WILDLY AROUSED. There’s just something about a hot popular chick confidently having the most vile takes on his cringe exclusionary nerd shit that gets him hard. He’s horrified by this fact but also knows she wants him bad anyway so like really it’s just a matter of self control and can his self-esteem/pride take it.

All of his friends hate her and he’s like “yeah 😍 me too 😍”

She gets roped into going to/preforming in Some Town Event oblivious to the fact he is too and that’s when she gets arc of the covenant’d with his guitar playing. Mind snaps. Will power gone. He’s the shittiest dude she’s ever met she doesn’t like him AT ALL but sadly he’s also the Perfect Man and she needs him IMMEDIATELY. Legit jumps him the SECOND she can.

The kinda ppl who’ll continue an argument during sex.

Eddie loving every second of little miss rich and popular being soooo down bad for him. Loving having this level of control over someone who’s usually so “out of his league”. Loving how he can turn her brain off and make her shut up like it’s a magic trick.

Eddie slowly realizing there’s parts of heather that she never shows to anyone but he’s gotten a peak of, intentionally or not, and getting kinda possessive of that.

Heather laying on his shitty gross ass bed listening to his music and taking it seriously and talking about it musical artist to musical artist.

Heather calling his dnd group shit like “his pathetic gay loser circle jerk” and he’s just like “baby I’m going to kill you with a brick 😍”

Heather bodily taking over his hair and skin care routine. Even brushing his hair sometimes and explaining it all for when she’s not there and he’s like “lol you know I’m not doing all that”

[eaglestcr]

Extremely Selective and Independent Aragorn RP Blog

This Blog largely draws from the Bakshi film and what the mun remembers from the books.

An Exploration in earning one's crown, courtly love, warriors being made in war, kings being made in peacetime, the making of lasting peace

Rules

I'm going to be honest I haven't heard a lot of good things about the Tolkien fandom so I'm going to be extremely selective in terms of who I follow.

No Drama will be tolerated

Mun is 30+ and just wants to bop around and have fun. Not here for semantics or theological debates. I save that for my Dune blog @impercre

He/They pronouns. You can also call me Lee.

I know this is preaching to the choir but if you’re a radfem, n*zi, Zionist or some other breed of sexist and racist go fix your hearts.

Suddenly Frodo noticed a strange-looking weather-beaten man … [with] long shanks (legs) … [and] a shaggy head of dark hair necked with grey, and in a pale stern face a pair of keen grey eyes.

“The hands of the king are the hands of a healer, and so shall the rightful king be known”.

'no, if he was untrustworthy, he would seem fair and feel foul.' 'so i take it i am, instead, foul-seeming and feel fair?'

About/Verses

It hurt a little, being something that never fit either as an elf with whom he was raised or as a human. Even humans as noble as the Dúnedain. But if prophecy and destiny are only nature following its inevitable course then even that too was meant to be.

It meant wandering the world trying to be worthy of a crown, of a woman. A war was coming but what mattered was the aftermath. Warriors were made in war, Kings were made in peacetime. And he would be king and make a peace that could last for one hundred years.

Faceclaim: Noah Hathaway (child) Scott Glenn (Older)

Voice Claim: John Hurt

He can come across as fairly cynical and jaded. He's always been an outsider. When he was raised in Rivendell he was a human child amongst elves, when he grew up and rejoined his own people and men he was in some ways too Elvish. So it shows in his bearing with him coming across as cold and detached.

He sees becoming King as something to earn and become worthy of, not something he's entitled to. The fact Elrond has made it a requisite for marrying Arwen has only made him take it all the more seriously as he wants that mortal crown to be something deserving of laying at her feet.

On Arwen—There is some idealization in how he sees her. She will forever be Luthien, the perfect dark-haired vision he saw in the woods as a youth. That said, he is aware that there is something selfish in asking for her hand and wanting her to become mortal. But he also wants/loves her too much not to ask. Which is why he and the crown he offers her need to be worthy, and all his feelings are a Moebius strip.

[clumsiestgiantess]

Chapter 17 of the Other-world Universe; a deal has been struck with the other-worldians, isn’t that n- OH SHIT THE HAZMAT GIANTS ARE HERE!

all chapters linked here

[Round 1: Fight!]

Our wonderful illusion of a glimpse at ‘normal’ shattered sooner than I expected.  The next morning, I noticed Erica gazing confusedly out at the horizon.  "What's that?" she asked, pointing somewhere to my right.  I whirled around to see what she'd pointed to, and watched as a truck sped towards the mountainside.  It looked similar to the one Erica had driven to find me.  "Oh no, are the survivors coming for revenge?" I asked aloud.  "You did tell them that I was sorry, right?"  Looking past the speeding truck, I noticed a cloud of dust on the horizon.  Seriously, did they bring their whole fleet to come fight me?!  I really don't want to hurt anyone unless I have to.

Erica stepped in front of me as the truck sped up the side of the mountain, keeping a hand defensively on my arm the whole time.  In a less concerning situation, I would've been flattered by the fact that she was ready to protect me for a change.  However, once the truck finally pulled to a stop in front of us, only one person stepped out.  He had slightly lighter skin than Erica, and a mess of shaggy red-ish brown hair.  The guy must have been about the same age as me, maybe even a bit younger. 

Hurriedly brushing a lock of hair from his face, he glanced from Erica's rather pissed off expression to my more curious one.  He was breathing heavily, as if he'd ran the whole way there instead of driving the truck.  Clearly, he'd come in a hurry, but now that he was standing in front of us, he was struck silent.  I have to admit, Erica and I can be quite an intimidating pair.

"What do you want?" Erica asked him sternly.  "I-" he coughed, "Water, please."  Again Erica gave him a distrustful glare, but I quickly produced a small water bottle from the boxes and held it out to the young man.  He flinched so badly at my approaching fingers that I thought he'd somehow been hurt.  I ended up placing it on the ground in front of him instead.  Snatching it off the dying grass, he chugged almost the entire bottle before taking a gasping breath.  

"Thank you," he wheezed.  "Who are you?" I asked once he seemed to have caught his breath, "Why were you in such a hurry?"  He looked fearfully up at me for a moment, then answered, "I'm Ivan Fero, ma'm.  Uhh, miss giant?  I- oh god, um.. I hope that wasn’t offensive or anything."  This poor guy.  "My name's Alexis," I said, sparing him further embarrassment.  "Oh, right, A- Alexis, ok."  Erica sighed, "Why are you here?  Surely you didn't speed 500 miles down here just for a drink."  "Oh, right!" he gasped, "The chasm's under attack!  People are being taken left and right.  It's insane!  We have no way to stop them!"  I turned to the horizon in an instant.  So that's what all the dust was.  The scientists are attacking.  

"Please," Ivan begged, "Miss giant, sorry, Alexis, you have to help us.  You're the only way we can stand a chance against them.  Look, I know they're your people, but I'm desperate, we all are, please."  Suddenly, two pairs of eyes were on me; both Erica and Ivan waited for my answer.  "I-  I've tried to get them to leave before, they just laughed at me."  "Alright, so this time you go in and you fight those bastards," Erica said simply, "Someone needs to teach those shitheads a lesson, but we physically can't.  So It's all up to you." 

"I want to help," I said anxiously, "but last time they almost dragged me through the portal, remember?"  Erica nodded enthusiastically, "Yeah, that was before you stunned them with your invisibility!  And, you can become all ghost-like too right?  What's that called again?  Nevermind, that's not important.  LISTEN.  They might have their strength in numbers, but you have, like, actual superpowers.  I bet you could easily fight them off if you tried to."  I thought for a moment.  What Erica was proposing could work.  I didn’t know how to fight very well — I’d never really had to before — but I supposed my inexperience would be evened out by my superpowered advantages.  If all else failed, I could simply go intangible to avoid any attacks.  But how, without someone to control?

“First of all, it's called intangibility,” I told her, “Second of all, I need to be in control of a person to do that."  Erica looked slyly over at the young man from the hidden town.  "Any volunteers?"  Ivan choked on his water in response.  "What!?  No, are you insane?  Why would I willingly be controlled by that?  No offense," he added, glancing at me worriedly.  "None taken."  "Well, do you want to save your town or not?" Erica asked him.  "I-  I want her to save the town, not me!  I can't fight giants!"  "You won't have to fight anyone," I assured him, "Leave that to me; I just need someone to latch on to.  You probably won't even notice it."  "Oh he'll notice it," Erica said hastily.  "Every time you were controlling me, I always felt cold."  I'd been pretty awful to her back then, without even realizing it.  But, like Erica said, that was in the past.

Ivan shook his head furiously, backing away from us.  "I can't.  I won't."  "Would you rather stand on the sidelines and let Alexis do her thing, or watch your whole city be captured?  It's your choice."  He looked towards where the greyish brown cloud had churned on the horizon, then back at us.  The disturbance was gone, meaning there was no longer a skirmish — the very likely winners were ready to steal more people away.

Ivan glanced between his options a few more times, wearing a torn expression all the while.  Finally, he sighed, "I'll do it.  Just… Please don't make me do anything."  I nodded, "I won't."  "Alright, alright, let's go already!" Erica called, making Ivan flinch.  I swear, if there was a way for us to swap sizes…  Erica seems way more keen to fight them than I am, and yet I'm the only one who'll be pulling the punches.  "Shoulder.  Now." Erica insisted, motioning for me to put out my hand for her.  "Erica, that's not-"  "I’ve been practicing!"  I groaned, knowing she'd prolong our argument until I listened to her.  "Fine.  But if you fall off and almost die, it is entirely your fault."  She nodded eagerly, and I begrudgingly lifted her up to my shoulder.  However, I couldn't help but smile at Erica's satisfied grin.

I held out my hand to Ivan next, but he doubled over in a panic and quickly dashed behind the open truck door.  "Uhh.. no.  I don't want to die before we get there, thanks."  "You'll never make it in time if you drive that truck all the way back to the valley," I reasoned.  "I need you to be there the second I get to the area so I can go intangible."  He honestly looked like he was going to give himself a heart attack, so I did my best to reassure him that he'd be fine.  "Don't worry, unlike Miss Stubborn up here, you won't be in any danger.  My hands are honestly the safest place you could be."  

Ivan looked dubiously at my outstretched palm, but he climbed in anyways.  "I hope I don't regret this."  Keeping myself balanced, I headed off at an even jogging pace towards the commotion in the distance.  Traveling at full speed just wasn't an option with my two passengers, but it was still faster than the truck.  While I walked, I could hear Erica grumbling a quiet objection to my banter.  "I'm not that stubborn! Why is she calling me stubborn? I just want to see what she sees.  Is that too much to ask?"  "It is when you put your life on the line to do it," I replied, glancing over at her.  Erica turned to stare at me, eyes wide in shock and the tiniest bit of fear.  "You could hear that?!"  "Of course I can.  You are sitting right next to my ear, you know."  She glanced up, then looked away in realization.  "Oohh.. sorry."  "It's fine, '' I smiled, "Enjoy your death defying view."

My good mood faded grimly as I approached the cliffs with the wooden structures.  Each lookout had been diminished to rubble; the people inside were missing except for the occasional limp body half-buried beneath the timber.  I didn't bother to check those who were left behind.  If the scientists had left them, they probably hadn't survived their hideout's initial destruction.  I could feel Erica shudder beside me as we passed yet another, pulling herself closer to the side of my neck.  After nearing an even bigger group of collapsed structures, all of us went on high alert.  Tension silenced everything while we passed around worried glances.  

Suddenly, screams split the air.  I flinched instinctively, causing both my small riders to lose their balance a bit.  I picked up the pace, stooping down at the valley's opening.  "You go find somewhere safe to hide," I told Erica as I slid her off my shoulder and placed her on the ground.  "I wouldn't forgive myself if you were hurt, or captured, or anything else."  "But," she objected, trying to cling to my receding fingers, "I want to watch the fight.  I can help you!  I-"  "No," I answered abruptly, cutting her off, "You.  Stay.  Here.  I know how much you enjoy getting into trouble, but now is not the time."  Erica grumbled annoyedly as I slid my fingers out of her grasp.  "I want to help."  "Not now," I repeated, "Please, just go hide, ok?"  Finally, she sighed and trudged off to the base of the cliff to find a hiding spot.  I warily continued my way down the chasm.  I was worried about Erica, but I couldn't afford to think about her now.  Any distraction could very well mean life or death.  Maybe not for me, but certainly for the people of the other-world.

As I approached the spot where I'd torn open the cliff face, louder and more terrified yells echoed down the rocks.  Ivan was pressed so far into my hand that I could feel his heart beating rapidly against my palm.  "Alright," I whispered, "you ready?"  "No," he whimpered, "I feel like I'm going to puke.  Do I really have to do this?"  Carefully, I eased him onto the ground next to me and knelt down.  "You'll be alright," I assured him, "You don't have to fight them, remember?  Just hide somewhere close by.  That's all you have to do."  Ivan nodded slowly, then edged his way behind a section of rock nearby.  "Are you ready now?"  "Yeah, I guess," came a response from behind the rock.  "I'll be back before you know it," I whispered.

After releasing both of my small companions, I felt slightly freer than before.  I could take chances without risking the others' safety.  Going invisible, I stepped out of hiding and steeled myself to face the scientists.  However, nothing could really prepare me for the scene laid out in front of me.  There were cages strewn about the valley.  Some were stuffed with small wailing figures, others stood wide open, their yawning barred faces hungrily awaiting more unwilling victims.  Other-worldian people grasped at the wire mesh, trying in vain to undo the strange locks that held the cages tightly shut — trapping them in some nightmarish fate.

The worst thing was the sound.  Awful panicked and pained noises cried out on deaf ears as the scientists did their work.  They didn’t care what happened to the tiny creatures in transit; they were just gathering as many of them as they could and locking them away.  It infuriated me.  The strange yet sickeningly familiar people worked silently and methodically, seemingly unbothered by the desperate shrieks that surrounded them.  The five of them had created an efficient little assembly line which started at the open cavern and ended at a stack of steril crates.  With masked, blank faces they dragged person after person out of the newly-opened town, pinning them tightly in gloved fists.

I seethed, my invisibility flickering in and out while I stood, fists clenched tight, glaring wrathfully at all of them like a vengeful specter.  One by one, they took off their awful masks in disbelief, trying to figure out whether I was really there.  The look on their faces was priceless; each person gawked in confused fear.  "PUT THEM DOWN.  NOW."  My voice carried thunderously over the bare rocks surrounding the valley.  Its sound drew up a reassuring feeling of power within me.  One of the scientists in the middle of the line immediately dropped what they were holding onto the table below them and stepped back, hands raised in defeat.  The others slowly followed suit, becoming more confused than scared.  Color returned to some of their faces.  The person at the end of the chain even had the audacity to close the cage they'd been working on, effectively trapping more other-world survivors right in front of me.  That also effectively pissed me off.  "You're gonna regret that," I stated; then disappeared back into invisibility.  

All of them immediately went ridgid the second I vanished.  They anxiously began packing everything away, but they weren't fast enough.  I dashed at the scientist who'd closed that cage, planting my foot directly into their stomach at the last second.  They hit the ground hard and lay there, gasping for breath.  Before the rest of the scientists could react, I moved swiftly on to the next one as panic swept through the little crowds locked away.  Winding up invisibly, there was no way for them to have seen me coming — no way for them to block me.  I punched this one straight in the gullet.  Full force.  I hadn't intended this to be a lethal fight, but after what I'd just witnessed, I wasn’t particularly concerned with restraining myself.  The scientist’s neck made an unnerving crunch and they fell over backwards, crashing into the collapsable table behind them and dragging it to the ground.  Thankfully, no other-worldians were on it.

The person who'd been working on its surface screamed in terror — the same one that had already given defeat earlier.  In a panic, they frantically typed something into the device they were holding and a portal suddenly tore through the sky.  Without a second glance at their gear, specimens, or fellow scientists, they retreated into the warped opening, promptly closing it behind them.  

The two remaining people who weren't collapsed on the ground startled from their stunned, petrified stances and took initiative.  They swung punches at the air around them, unsure where I was, but ready to defend themselves nonetheless.  Now this was what I expected.  I could faintly sense Ivan's presence further down the ravine, and latched onto it.  

Effortlessly strolling through the scientists' defenses, I walked through an oncoming punch, pulled out of intangibility, and kicked one of them from behind, just below the knee.  Their legs buckled from the unforeseen force, and they toppled into the other scientist, landing in a messy heap.  "Screw this!" someone growled.  She scrambled to the broken table, grabbed its disconnected metal leg, and hauled herself out from underneath the other scientist.  As hard as she could, she swung the metal pole blindly in my direction.  I was very nearly clobbered to death if it hadn't been for my quick switch into intangibility.  A few seconds later, and I would've been too late.

Now, there were three scientists remaining.  The two in front of me and the one I'd kicked first, who'd gotten up while I was fighting the others.  I took away my invisibility and tried to speak so I could reason with the rest of them, before I hurt anyone else.  However, both the man I'd first attacked and the scientist with the table leg lashed out at me the moment they saw me.  In a furious blur of motion, the woman's metal pole sliced right through me and cracked into the side of the other man's head.  Hard.  He crumpled to the ground, unconscious, as the woman dropped her weapon in shock.  Despite no longer being invisible, I was still intangible.  

"You.. you just killed Darian," the other scientist whispered in horror.  "No, I- I wasn't aiming for him!  It shouldn't have hit him!" the woman cried out, confused.  If I wasn't so fucking mad, I might've felt sorry for her, but I wanted them out, and I wasn't letting my gaurd down untill they left.

I pulled back out of intangibility, and stood before the last two remaining scientists completely normal.  Maybe they’d let me speak now that they’d been brought down to two.  "This is your last chance to leave," I warned them.  The more worried one glanced between the two bodies on the ground and turned to the other scientist, begging her to open the portal.  "If you want to stay, and fight, and die, be my guest!  Just open the portal first so I can get out of here!"  "I can't," she answered, visibly trying to steady her voice.  "Why not?  Let him through," I said, sounding slightly more annoyed than I meant to be.  

"I can't," she repeated, the edge returning to her voice, "because Beau took the key into the portal with her.  We can't get back without one."  She marched up to me and I quickly disappeared as she throttled the open air where I'd stood a moment before. "Now what, you little sijat?" the scientist asked angrily while I puzzled over the strange word she'd called me.  "You gonna kill us even though we're trapped in this stupid world?"

I backpedaled away, mind racing.  What should I do?  I shouldn't attack them if they can't escape, that isn't fair.  Then again, what they were doing to the people of the other-world wasn't very fair either.  However, before I could figure out a solution to my dilemma, the other scientist spoke up.  "Doesn't Darian also have a key?" they asked their colleague.  Glancing warily at the empty space around them, the scientist made his way to the body and pulled out a similar device from his pocket.  

He immediately opened the portal back up, and hauled the bodies of the others inside.  "Are you coming?" he asked, concerned.  "Yeah, Carter.  I’m coming.”  Her voice sounded almost disappointed.  She glared into the open space she assumed I was standing.  “You're lucky there was another key, kid.  If we were really gonna fight to the death, you would've lost."  With that, she stepped into the portal behind the other scientist and vanished, the portal sealing back up behind them.

I stood dumbfounded for a moment, staring at the empty space where the threatening tear had been. “You would’ve lost,” I repeated quietly.  If I'd lost.. If I'd died...  I felt a pain in my chest as I thought of Erica.  I'd asked her to stay back and wait for me, but what if I'd never returned?  The fight wasn’t too bad — I hadn’t even been hurt — but it was still frightening nonetheless.

My thoughts were interrupted by a barely audible whisper.  "Did you come to save us?"  I startled, looking to the ground to find the owner of the voice.  It was a kid.  They couldn't have been much older than eight or nine years old, slightly hidden in the rocks to my left.  "I did," I answered them kindly, flattening myself all the way to the ground to get a better look.  Their clothes and hair were disheveled and covered in dirt, but they were otherwise completely unscathed.  The kid’s parents had probably hidden them there so they would be spared the scientists' torturous attack.  

"Where are your parents?" I asked them softly.  They pointed towards one of the cages nearby and I stepped over to it.  As I knelt in front of the crossed metal mesh that made up the door, I could hear hushed gasps and cries from inside it.  From my perspective, the cage looked almost empty.  Everyone inside had hidden themselves in the very back, out of my sight.

Tentatively, I opened the deadbolt-esque lock sealing the door.  It took a moment of fidgeting to figure out how it worked; I wasn't accustomed to the scientists' weird technology.  Though it looked like a deadbolt, it was a bit more complex than that.  Eventually, I undid the lock and pulled the door wide open.  The little kid came rushing over, stopping cautiously at the opening.  The second their parents spotted them, they cried out in relief, breaking the silence held by the captured crowds.  They rushed forward, hugging the kid tightly in a three person hug. With the few frightened people suddenly pacified, everyone sprung to life.  Others in the cages nearby called for their release, and those who'd been freed offered their baffled thanks.  

I opened the rest of the cages in quick succession, and soon a cheer rose from the large crowd that had gathered from the cages and the cavern.  I stood, simultaneously shocked and overwhelmed.  There were so many people, and they were all so ridiculously small, especially from my view standing up.  Glancing nervously back down the valley, I saw Ivan sprinting over the rocks towards the crowd.  

Beaming in relief now that I’d found a familiar face, I headed over to ask him sarcastically whether the fight was as awful as he'd thought.  However, it took some time to get over to him.  The crowds at my feet were rather nerve-wracking for me.  After all, I've had more than a few accidents occur after people foolishly decided to walk beneath me.  The most infamous occurrence was, of course, that day in the woods with Erica.  Above all else, I did not want a repeat of that incident.

Eventually the crowds thinned a bit, but by then I noticed something was off.  Ivan had been looking through the throng of people for a long while; he seemed to become more upset the longer he searched.  The valley behind him was clear of people, so I knelt down there.  "Are you looking for someone?" I asked when he turned to me.  Ivan nodded vigorously, "I- I can't find my family.  I don't think they were taken, but the crowd.." he gestured to the mass of people milling about in the valley.  "I can't see them."  "Maybe you just need a better vantage point," I said, offering him my hand.  

For a moment he stood looking out at the crowd again, checking one last time before giving in.  At last, Ivan turned and settled onto my palm.  He wasn't very practiced at balancing his weight when I moved, though.  That came with a lot more experience than he had.  Ivan tumbled backwards by the sudden motion of being lifted to standing height.  "Woah!" he yelped, "Slow down!  I know I said I was worried, but you don't need to go at full speed!"  "Sorry," I said halfheartedly, "So, what does your family look like?  I could help you search."  

After a few minutes of scanning the crowds from above, Ivan spotted them by the cavern opening.  They'd been searching for him too.  His family was a bit frightened of me at first, as most other-world people are, but after Ivan explained how he'd escaped and offered to help me fend off the scientists, they seemed a bit more at ease.  His mother repeatedly thanked me for keeping him away from the fight, and his younger sister even managed a shy hello before returning to their mother's side.  It was heartwarming, really.  Ivan's family seemed like such nice people, and I would've been happy to stay with them and chat, had it not been for a few other curious people who came to greet me.

Two cavern town residents approached me as Ivan and his family disappeared into town.  They were both better dressed than most of the others, who wore ragged clothes that looked as if they were scavenged from the rubble.  “Giant, though you may have destroyed our rock ceiling, we cannot deny the great service you’ve done for us here,” the first person said, gesturing at the abandoned cages and reunited people.  She had deep brown skin and grey hair that was almost white.  Smile lines creased her face, and her stature was quite imposing for someone her age. 

“However,” the man next to her cut in.  He wore a much more serious expression, and his eyes narrowed as he glared through the sun to look up at me.  His skin was a lighter pinkish white with a tinge of tan, similar to my own.  “The giants you fought off will likely return with better defenses.  With enough men, they could easily subdue you.”  “Which is why we’re offering a proposition,” the woman said, speaking over him.  “Stay with us, create defenses in the canyon and keep yourself and our town safe.  All hostility towards you from our gunsmen will be revoked, and you can live beside us with the others you’ve befriended.  In turn, we only ask that you protect us.”  “And stop destroying our things!”  

Whoever these two were, negotiators or whatnot, they wanted me to stay and ward the scientists away.  I wasn’t planning on living there; I doubted they would want me around after destroying many of their defenses.  However, I hadn’t considered the fact that the scientists could and probably would try to overtake me the next time we squared off.  I needed somewhere safer to live than the open cliffside where Erica’s mansion used to be.  This deal would benefit me just as much as it would benefit these people. In the mountains, I had lots more cover, and Erica would have an actual home again.  I saw no reason to refuse them.   “I accept,” I answered after thinking things through for a moment.  "I'll stay and protect the town."  A handshake from both negotiators made the deal official, since there was no legal paper in the world big enough for me to properly sign.  Though it was slightly awkward having to press each of their hands lightly between my index finger and thumb, I managed to get both of them to trust me enough to agree to it.  Afterwards, I wanted to go find Ivan.  He might be able to tell me who those people were.  However, I had something more important to do first.  Erica was waiting for me.

[sleekervae]

Past Lives [1.2]

Masterlist

A/N: eek, thanks so much for your patience, I super appreciate it. I wasn't sure at the beginning what it was I wanted to do with this chapter but I'm overall pretty happy with it. Happy reading!

--

It was sometime after midnight, Jade hadn't bothered to check the time but she knew it was late. She knew she had a packed day tomorrow and she had to be on her A-game for the studio. An hour in the morning to work out, another hour to prep her breakfast and twenty minutes to get to the studio for an eight hour day of work and rewrites and keeping herself from banging her head against the wall.

And yet here she was, curled up in a towel on his couch. Austin had gone to throw their things in the dryer, she assured him he could just throw her clothes back on and the underwear be damned, but he insisted he wouldn't let her go home like that.

She absentmindedly dried her hair, rubbing damp locks between the folds of the towel, her thoughts racing. Jade didn't let it show on her face however, lighting up as Austin came back with a pair of basketball shorts hanging off of his hips. He had a t-shirt in his hands.

"I thought you might be more comfortable in this," he handed her the shirt as he sat down.

"You didn't have to throw my stuff in the laundry," she said meekly.

"Maybe, but I'm not letting you go home in soaking underwear," he replied, that charming grin tugging at his lips.

"And who said chivalry was dead?" she chuckled, slipping the shirt over her head.

Austin settled into the couch beside her, scratching the back of his own damp hair, watching her subtly as he too was trying to wrap his brain around what had just happened. A funny thought struck him.

"That was the first time I used that pool," he realized aloud.

Jade eyed him curiously, "Seriously?"

"Yeah," he chuckled shyly.

"Well, that's one way to break in the swimming pool," she smirked, "I remember when were like, nineteen, and Ashely was having the cook out and Matt shoved me into the pool,"

Austin nodded, remembering fondly as if it was only yesterday. Jade was on her period; she hadn't said anything but something was off with her, and when he'd finally asked her what was going on she subtly hinted at it. Meanwhile, Matt was a young actor who was adequately good looking but had the maturity level of a six-year-old. His crush on Jade was clear, he was nice at first glance but the jokes he had made to Jade certainly threw her off.

Walking around the penthouse pool was a surreal experience; sure she knew most the people here. They were all Disney Dreamers, she and the rest of them were looking to break out past the barriers of family-friendly kids comedies and movies where the guy always got the girl and spontaneous dances would break out in school hallways.

She spotted Ashley sitting by the pool with some other girls, some Jade knew and a couple she didn't. They were strewn out across the tile in adorable bikinis and sundresses, their feet swinging blissfully in the pool and sending ripples cascading across the surface. Jade was dressed in a simple pair of leggings and a t-shirt, maybe a little too hot for the weather but her period had plagued her that morning and she wasn't yet comfortable putting a tampon in. She figured if she had said anything to any of the girls they would laugh and call her a baby, because she had heard it all before.

The cream soda in her solo cup with really sweet but Jade drank it anyway, meandering around while she ended up stuck in a conversation with Matt.

"Do you like WoW?" he had asked her.

Nineteen-year-old Jade, young, shy, and as vanilla as a cupcake, blinked blatantly at the shaggy-haired boy, a scrawny pipe-cleaner type with a charming boyish grin and squinty eyes. Matt was sitting close enough that she could smell the energy drink off his breath coupled with the hot dog he had enjoyed previously.

"Wow?" she asked.

"World of Warcraft," he nodded, "The game,"

She shook her head, "No, sorry," and because she was such a people pleaser, she had to follow up, "I'm more of a Club Penguin person"

He scoffed, "Isn't that a kid's game?"

"I -- I wouldn't say that,"

"But you dress up penguins and shit," he snorted.

Jade refrained from sighing, staring at her cup of soda as she snipped, "Well, what's World of Warcraft about?"

Matt's eyes had lit up, "Oh, it's so cool! You get your own avatar and you get to go around battling ogres and find treasure! And the world exploring is so cool! You can even build your own army if you want to!"

Jade nodded slowly, "So, you get to battle with your own character and fight computer demons. How is that any less childish than dressing up a penguin?"

Matt's eyebrows knitted together and his lips resisted to purse, "Because a penguin game is dumb, I'm sorry,"

"I'm sorry, but so is exploring virtual worlds with NPCs in a basement; but I'm not calling your game dumb," she replied simply.

"I don't play in my basement," seemed to be the only inkling of detail he had caught.

"I wasn't implying you did, and even if I was I'm not making fun of you or anyone for it," she tried to explain, "I'm just saying you don't need to make fun of my game because you don't like it,"

"There's nothing cool about it, though," he laughed, "I've never met an eieghteen-year-old who still plays Club Penguin,"

"First of all: I'm nineteen. Second of all: I've never met a boy with that many ketchup stains on his shirt, so I guess there's a first for all of us,"

Matt glanced down at the stains, surprised for a moment at the splotches resembling dropped paint can splatter. Something changed in his expression, Jade couldn't put her finger on it, but the way his eyes went blank and he sucked in his cheeks, it was enough for Jade to stand and start for the other side of the pool.

She was none the wiser however as Matt stood up to follow her, weaving through the crowd until he had found the perfect opportunity to shove her into the pool. Jade hadn't seen it coming, but the force of a hand on her back and a shoulder throwing her to aside, and she clenched her eyes shut as she saw the water closing in on her. All the air left her lungs and her ears rung with the heavy splash of skin breaking into water.

Jade splashed around until she could get her bearings and come up for air, clinging to the edge of the pool to see everyone was looking at her. Some were taken aback, others didn't seem too bothered as they went back to their conversation. And Jade suddenly registered the most uncomfortable sensation of her bloody pad inflating with water.

"Oh my God! Jade!" Austin had been watching the whole thing from across the pool, appalled, concerned, disgusted, whatever emulsion of feelings he had set aside briefly as he rushed over to help pull her out. Ashley and Brenda had followed suit with fresh towels. Jade couldn't speak at first, only nodding when asked if she was okay over and over, and for whatever reason why a deep shame had overcome her as she clenched the towel tightly around her body.

He was especially shy at that age, but Austin had more nerve than anyone at that pool party to call out the little bastard when they seemed content to move on so quickly. Matt meanwhile was out to get himself another red bull while Austin skulked up behind him, his lips pursed tightly and his blood boiling.

"Hey, what's your problem?" Austin called out.

Matt turned briskly on his heel, the energy drink already clutched in his hand, "What're you talking about?" he asked cluelessly.

"Matt, don't be a dick! I watched you shove Jade into the pool!" Austin snapped.

"I did not!" he countered, almost like a child having a tantrum, "The deck is slippery! It happens, man!" and he placed his hand on Austin's shoulder. Austin however flinched and pulled him off.

"Don't touch me," he said shortly.

Matt scowled at him, he was only a few inches shorter than Austin, he looked younger with his moppy hair and skinnier build. However, the way he stared Austin down so intensely, so confidently, Austin wasn't afraid so much as he was uncomfortable being within close proximity to the kid.

"Or what?" he poked Austin's chest only to be batted away.

"Don't touch me!"

"What're you gonna' do if I do? Huh?"

Ashley called him out, "Matt, stop it!" she warned like a mother scolding her child for snatching a toy away from his sibling, "You're not helping!"

Suppose you could chalk it down to immaturity, or Matt truly thought that he was untouchable as he scoffed at the young blonde, "How 'bout you worry about the Japanese flag on your towel and not me, hm?"

Jade didn't understand what he was referring to until she looked down, the color drained from her face, her blood ran cold as she saw the pinkish-reddish stains soaking through her towel from her jeans, from her pad. And as soon as she saw it, everybody had too. Austin had seen it, averting his eyes quickly out of decency though the damage had already been done. Never more in her life had Jade wanted to die than in that moment.

Brenda was quick to usher her inside, "Okay, show's over. Let's get you cleaned up,"

Jade's cheeks flushed some, she could still feel the uncomfortable sopping lump in her pants so clearly, the embarrassment so poingnant, and yet if she was asked, she wasn't sure why she should've been so embarrassed in the first place. It wasn't her fault she had been pushed into the pool, after all.

"Anyway," she sighed, "besides that fiasco we stayed up late and made s'mores on the little bonfire,"

"Of course," he shook his head, "And I had to put some distance between you and Matt,"

"I wasn't surprised when him and Sara broke up, but the restraining order threw me," she shivered at the thought, imagining if she hadn't of dodged that bullet.

"I don't miss him," Austin shook his head, "I mean, other than that, I think we still had fun,"

"We did," Jade nodded, "I haven't had s'mores in a long time, actually,"

"Neither have I," he shrugged, "How about next time you come over we make some?"

"I'd like that," she smiled softly, "But I think we should do it after -- this," she waved her hand between them, blushing profusely.

He scoffed amusedly, "Why?"

"Because we've proven we can be very messy and chocolate and marshmallow are gonna' make that worse," she laughed.

"And what's wrong with that?"

Jade just laughed him off as he reached for his TV remote to find something for them to watch. His sense of humour dwindled however as his mind wondered, watching Jade as he flicked through different show titles on his Netflix. Her hair held a particular shine under the lamp sitting over them and her eyes weren't sunken persay, though she appeared tired. A little bit of guilt flooded through him as he saw how late it was, further knowing too that they both had full days ahead of them.

"Why did you agree to sleep with me?" he spoke before his better judgement could stop him.

Jade turned to him, not taken aback so much as she was curious to his question, "I thought we already talked about it," she said.

"We talked about how... we didn't really talk about... why," he shrugged sheepishly.

"Why are you asking me this now?" she asked.

His gaze clung shyly to her shoulder, the fabric of his t-shirt draping gently along the bone, "I don't know. I guess 'cause you never really seemed like you'd be into this thing. I'm just curious,"

She pulled her knees up to her chest, inhaling deeply as she thought about it, "Neither do you. I don't know," she looked off into space, "I guess internally I just wanna' fuck up my life even more. I suppose it can't get any worse from here," she tittered pitifully.

"You're not doing too badly," he reassured her.

"I appreciate that," she replied, "My therapist says I seek safety and validation from outward attention. And I wish I'd heard that earlier because maybe things would be a little better,"

It was hard sometimes for Austin to differentiate between Jade's alter ego and her vulnerable side, he felt as though he was privy to this raw part of her she wouldn't have wanted anybody to see. And it made him question to why she picked him, or more relevantly why they'd picked each other in this.

"Would you let me be a better thing in your life?" he asked, trying to read her glazed expression.

"You don't have to worry about me," she smiled assuringly, "You have enough on your plate, Austin,"

Austin simpered, reaching across the leather to give her hand an affectionate squeeze, "Maybe. But I can have a packed schedule and still make time for my friend,"

"Friend," Jade smirked as she scooted closer beside him, "Do you... do you do this type of stuff with your other friends?" she waved her hand between them, calloused fingers fluttering softly.

Austin felt his face run hot, thankful that the lights were dimmed a little lower but the cheeky smile curving at her lips told him she'd noticed anyway. There was a furtive glimmer in her eyes as she teased him like a child, reminiscent flares of the girl he knew sparking in again and again, drawing him nearer to her in the flame of familiarity and credulousness.

Nineteen-year-old Jade was curled up in an arm chair, small as a mouse while the cook out continued on the rooftop pool. She felt a multitude of things: frustration, anger, sheer embarrassment despite how many times the girls had told her she hadn't need to. Ashley gave her a fresh pad and some clothes to change into, she had told Jade she could take as much time as she needed before coming back upstairs. Though given the way some of the guys had been snickering amongst themselves, sneaking glances and pointing subtly, she wasn't sure she would. If she was still in Toronto she would've called her mom in a heart beat to come pick her up.

Community was on, Señor Chang's manic episodes and Pierce's constant yet unintentional oppressive behaviour were an attempt to dry out the loud cry of mockery in her brain, and for the most part it was working. She hadn't registered a visitor until she heard the door slam amongst the television chaos, her glazed eyes blinked slowly.

"I'm fine Ash, you don't need to worry," she called over the commotion.

Twenty-one-year-olds, shy yet chivalrous, Austin chuckled beneath his breath as he took a seat beside her on the couch, much to Jade's surprise. In one hand he had a red cup, in the other two slices of cold pizza haphazardly wrapped in a greasy napkin.

"I'll be sure to let her know," he smiled, "Thought you might be hungry," he offered her the pizza.

"Thanks," it was then the tension in her body began to fizzle out, her sour mood not quite lifted but nonetheless she as happy to see him out of everybody. True to Austin's notion it dawned on Jade then how hungry she was. She took a bite; the mozzarella was gummy by now and the marinara sauce was bizarrely sweet. In the cup was a dark cola, though the smell of a stronger liquor burned under nose amongst the sugary goodness, "What's this?"

"Cola,"

"Cola and what?"

He smiled coyly, "Captain Morgan,"

"Hmm, look at you plying minors with alcohol," she smirked back.

"If nineteen is good enough for Canada, it's good enough for me. Don't -- don't tell Ashley, though," he reasoned. He had just had a fresh hair cut, Jade hadn't said anything but she noticed how much sharper he looked, in turn appearing more confident in his v-neck and cargo shorts.

"I don't know what you're talking about," her brows popped to tease as she took a cocky sip of the drink.

Austin meanwhile kicked his feet up onto the table, perplexed at the onslaught of zombies tearing apart a community college campus, the variety of cast costumes appealing and appropriate to each character.

"Why are they playing a halloween episode in August?" he asked.

"Because Halloween is cool," Jade replied matter-of-factly, "Hallmark likes to play their Christmas movies in July, anyway,"

"Fucking weirdos," he muttered. Jade was watching his nonchalance curiously. His sudden silence was perplexing, his own gaze glued to the TV as he relaxed into the couch without much of a care, almost as though Jade hadn't been traumatized an hour ago.

"How's everything upstairs?" she asked.

He shrugged listlessly, "Not much is going on up there. A couple of the guys are already drunk," he replied.

She nodded slowly, "... You're not... you're not gonna ask me about what happened?"

He glanced at her peripherally, "... Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really,"

"Then we won't talk about it," he decided, "Not until you want to," and he went back to watching TV.

Jade relaxed beside him, gobbling down the pizza and after a few sips, she didn't mind the distinct bitterness of her drink. Despite the show she could pick off the moments he snuck glances at her. Her head shook as she simpered under her breath.

"You don't have to babysit me, you know," she said, "I'm fine, Austin,"

He met her gaze again, "I'm not babysitting you. I'm just enjoying your company. It's quieter down here, anyway," he replied.

"Okay, but if Ashley or anyone sent you down here --"

"Jade, I came down here because I wanted to see you. Yes, I want to make sure you're okay 'cause I'm not gonna' have any fun knowing you're down here by yourself. So sue me," he turned to the TV again.

Jade huffed on the spot, folding her legs into a pretzel for some aim for comfort, not caring whether the pizza grease had soaked through the napkin and was staining her joggers. Her hair, long but still damp clung to the back of her neck and felt unbearably hot against her skin, amplified now as his stare bore into her.

"I wouldn't trust you to babysit a fish, anyway," she scoffed quietly.

Austin glared playfully, "Says the girl who forgot she locked her dog out on the porch for an hour,"

Jade chuckled sheepishly, "Well -- I mean -- okay, point taken. Thank you,"

His arm came around her shoulder and he pulled her into his side, and they giggled as her drink splashed and threatened to spill. Ashley then surely would've killed them both.

He smiled at her, charming, warm, delightfully mischievous in his own way that many people upstairs wouldn't notice about him. But Jade did, she always noticed everything about him.

"Don't mention it, you're my best friend after all,"

But there it was, that dreaded word. The six letter word that scorned Jade's adolescent life with Austin. She shouldn't have been so surprised, she was young and naive and there were other people who had more to offer him. She wasn't supposed to be anything more than just his friend, only then and only now.

Jade suddenly came to when Austin had poked her shoulder, "Hm?"

"Where'd you go?" he simpered, "You kinda' spaced out,"

"Oh, sorry," she smiled sheepishly, now taking note that he had the Netflix menu on the TV screen. His TV in his home, where they both sat on his couch practically half dressed. Just like really, really, really good friends.

"You want to watch something?" he asked.

The words barely left his lips before a sharp beep blared from down the hall, her clothes were done.

She didn't show her heavy heart as she sat up now, peeking down the darkened hallway, "I think that's my cue, actually,"

He didn't want the disappointment to flicker across his face, glaring down the hall at the direction of the beep. It felt like an intrusive sibling or a poorly timed phone call, their safe space was suddenly broken again.

"Oh, yeah. Right," he stood and started for the washing machine, "Sit tight, I'll get them,"

"I can help," Jade began to sit.

"No, no, I insist," he smiled reassuringly, "After all, I made most the mess,"

[banditnate]

laying a soft pretty feather over a nasty mark on his body during a quiet, intimate little moment: “how did you get this scar?”  

Flashback time !

She was always so g e n t l e.

Even after all this time, her touch was still as soft as ever. Sometimes he wondered if it was a trick of his imagination; like a broken connection in his brain mistook it from a breeze. To be handled so delicately made him feel the need to squirm—something he didn’t understand. He could take a punch like a champ, but this? It was unexpected every single time.  

Nate turned his head, just barely making out the tip of a raised scar by his left shoulder blade. beneath a large pheasant feather.

“Oh, that?”

He’d never gotten a good look at it; most of the time he forgot it was there. Rainy days would sometimes bring a dull ache, but nothing he couldn’t handle. The thought alone made him feel stiff, and he gave his shoulder a rounded stretch for good measure.

“That’s old. A year, at least.” Maybe even more—it was hard to be sure of the time that passed here. Days and people came and went, fading into the next as they disappeared. The only concrete evidence he had of time passing at all was the baby fat that had vanished from Fiona’s face in his former life.

He could feel her hazel eyes boring into the scar on his shoulder, and he knew that brushed-off answer wouldn’t sate her curiosity. “Well…”

***

They called him Carnival.

Nate never knew his real name. In fact, he learned quickly that real names didn’t matter anymore. You didn’t have to go by the alias your parents came up for you when you were a baby. You could be whoever you wanted to be (though it was often Peter who would bestow the actual nickname as he saw fit).

With his large, jolly form and shaggy red hair, Carnival had seemed friendly at first. He didn’t mind showing him the ropes, how things worked, and Nate was grateful to be taken under someone’s wing. It seemed like he was really getting the hang of things.

That is, until their first game of Battle.

Peter had thought it would be fun to pair Nate up with his semi-mentor in head-to-head combat. Can’t let your emotions getting the best of you, he said. This was only a game--but out there, it was kill-or-be-killed, and there was only one way to prepare.

Nate, wanting to impress his savior, took the game of Battle seriously. Carnival, clearly a veteran with low expectations of the newbie, let down his guard. It was all too easy for Nate to strike.

It was only a flesh wound—a bloody nose and some bruises—but the boy clearly hadn’t liked losing, not to mention to someone so green.

He didn’t take offense that Carnival avoided him for the rest of the day. Losing was hard, and Battle was anybody’s game; Nate just got lucky.  

“You better watch out,” one of the other Boys told him after.

It wasn’t until nightfall that he learned what they had meant.

He awoke with a gasp. His left shoulder tingled, like a thousand needles poking him at once. He tried to turn around, but a firm hand pushed him down, keeping him flat on his stomach.

“What’s wrong?" Carnival sneered, digging the knife into his skin. "Not gonna fight back? But you’re so good at that.”

Nate tried to wiggle out of his grasp, letting out a groan as warm liquid slowly oozed down his back. He grasped frantically at the dirt beneath his fingernails. Was breathing always this hard? He wasn’t getting enough air. Air, air. He willed the oxygen from the grass into his lungs. Faster and faster he breathed, each inhale shallower than the last. “I---“  I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, I--

A voice echoed in the distance: “Did I give you permission to kill him?”

He felt like he was underwater, or maybe it was everyone else who was drowning.

***

Things got fuzzy from there. After that, he just remembered the pain, and the heaviness--oh, so heavy. Even after Carnival disappeared, he never got over the weight in his chest that night.

He shook his head of the memory. It had been a long time since he thought about that.  

Not wanting to lie, but certainly not wanting to frighten her, he chose his words carefully.

“…I just got on somebody’s bad side.” He threw her a glance and a soft smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “Don’t worry about it. Something like that’ll never happen to you.”

question prompts