#just imaging them interacting is making me giggle

[rozesmiana]

I need everyone to hear me out-

[viaviavie]

OPERATION CINDERELLA-SABOTAGE [HEARTSLABYUL]

in which he rescues you from your very short-lived wedding.

SUMMARY: due to a massive misunderstanding, a prince from royal sword academy is set to wed you at sunset. thankfully, your un-princely crush is here to save the day and crash this lovely wedding.

PAIRINGS: everyone x fem reader (separately)

WARNINGS: they're being a bit dramatic, characters are 18+, makeout (cater)

NOTES: this is echoes the ghost bride event, but listening to this prompted me to write out this scenario instead. i made this for shits and giggles, so have fun with this!

HEARTSLABYUL | SAVANACLAW | OCTANIVELLE | SCARABIA | POMEFIORE | IGNIHYDE | DIASOMNIA

There was no way you would be able to say 'no' now, not when there were hundreds of Royal Sword Academy students and even more members of a random royal family whose last names you cannot recall waiting outside that door. Aside from a completely oblivious Neige and Che'nya who was nowhere to be found, there was no one you could really ask for help to get you out of this mess.

You turn to your supposed betrothed with frantic eyes, shaking your head wildly. "I already told you, I'm not the one you danced with at the ball!" Your hisses fell on deaf ears. That damned prince from Royal Sword Academy was too busy making the 'goo-goo' eyes at you to even register what you were saying.

"I just happened to have the same shoe-size!"

Damn it, why did you have to agree to fitting some missing girl's shoe?!

Pierce Charmant, possibly the most delusional guy you have ever met in Twisted Wonderland, clung onto your calf with a stubborn expression. He had no intentions of letting you go, and neither did his five other guards that had blocked your way.

"You have to be her!"

"You don't even know my name!"

You were really counting on Grim to get someone, anyone, to stop this wedding. Yet, as you are walked down the aisle by the fair Neige, you are already planning out a divorce settlement plan. Based on the number of guests here, who had filled this entire venue from top to bottom, you would have guessed that this prince was rather rich. If it was to be an unhappy marriage, at least your wallet would be more than compensated.

You managed to convince this prince to send invitations to Night Raven College, but that didn't matter. He was so excited and in a hurry to marry, that your friends barely had any time to rescue you! There must have been so much traffic with the mirrors that they couldn't even use them! There was just no way that they'd make it in time now.

And so you consign yourself to readying some divorce papers within the next few weeks, and planning out how to avoid any more interactions with this guy while you were married.

You stood at the chapel's base, your expression exasperated than ever as you kept darting your gaze to the door. You've already tripped over the aisle a few times, fumbled the scripted vows, and even called for a bathroom break or two to stall.

And now comes the big moment that you were so desperately trying to avoid.

"Would you, Pierce Charmant, take the Ramshackle Dorm Prefect, as your lawfully wedded wife?"

The prince smiles so sickly sweet, and its the look of a man who won't change his mind.

"I do."

You grimace as the officiant faces you, just as blind to your annoyed expression.

"Would you, the Ramshackle Dorm Prefect, take Pierce Charmant as you lawfully wedded husband?" They didn't even use your name!

You pause, the image of your crush flashing before your eyes.

You would never see him again if you let yourself get married. Defiance returns to your face as you suck in a deep breath, ready to deal with the consequences of rejecting this delusional prince in front of hundreds of people.

"I—"

"I object!"

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

"Grim, please explain to me why I received an invitation to the Prefect's wedding... I am calm, Trey. I would just prefer to know the details before I go and fetch her myself... and may I ask one more thing? Yes, hoW IN THE WORLD DID THE PREFECT GET KIDNAPPED LIKE THIS?! DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO CALM ME DOWN, CATER. I AM PERFECTLY CALM."

Riddle calmly asked about your whereabouts, and it does not take him long to immediately get to work. As one of the better respected housewardens among the roster, it was easier to ask for a few favors that could get him to that damned cathedral fast. However, as the traffic did pile up to get to this accursed wedding, Riddle finds himself on horseback.

He does have this awful crush on you, but it never really crosses his mind. Even as he holds certain feelings for you, it's at the back of his mind. Riddle values your autonomy, and this marriage was a massive red flag. Surely, you cannot have possibly agreed to such a thing. It was just not in your nature. You would have protested, and the fact that you are not back in campus means that something is preventing you from speaking your mind. Riddle really respects you in this aspect!

Still, the idea of you marrying some prince who barely knew it was absolutely absurd. Riddle won't allow it, he absolutely won't!

The doors were flung open with a loud thud, revealing a red-head in a suit. Much to your surprise, Riddle isn't burning red with a fiery rage and threatening to have everyone's head off. He's stomping towards you and your supposed groom, fist clenched as he throws out an arm out of anger. He doesn't seem too angry, but determined.

"ENOUGH! SHE WILL BE COMING BACK TO NIGHT RAVEN COLLEGE WITH ME NOW."

Okay, maybe you were wrong about him not being angry.

His voice echoes throughout the entire cathedral, followed by several flinches at his sheer volume. Immediately, the crowd by the rows inch back a bit further as he continues to march forward, ignoring the guards that seemed to hesitate to approach him. Pierce raises a brow, almost annoyed rather than fearful of this disturbance.

"There seems to be a misunderstanding. You see, the Prefect is going to be married to me. You can sort out your affairs after the ceremony is over." Well, that didn't seem to help one bit, judging by how Riddle seemed to fume even further at this statement.

The housewarden comes to a halt, sucking in a sharp breath to calm his temper. The last thing he wanted to do right now was to frighten you.

He breathes out your name, sending a stutter through your heart.

"Do you truly want to marry this man?"

It almost makes you swoon, the way Riddle looks at you so earnestly as he asks for some affirmation. Had it been any other scenario, you would've taken your time to bore your eyes into his and study his expression. Instead, you shake your head wildly, racing down the aisle until you have hidden yourself behind him.

Riddle has the nerve to smirk at the shocked Prince. "And here, I thought princes had a code of conduct when it came to their ladies." He turned back to you with an assuring look. "I'll take you home, Prefect."

Truly, Riddle had no intentions of playing around. He had only one objective, to get you out of here. Just as he turns around to escort you out of the cathedral, a pair of guards had blocked the exit.

"No, I cannot let you leave!" Pierce cried out, ready to give chase. "Prefect, please! Give me a chance. You cannot possibly be ready to leave me for... this guy!"

Riddle's eye twitches as he cranes himself to look at the prince. "You have some nerve!" He clicks out, clenching his fists once more. Everyone feels the cathedral heat up, those closer to the aisles feeling beads of sweat form upon their temples. Even as you looked at Riddle so gently, a part of you was somewhat grateful that he was sticking up for you.

Just as his top was about to blow, you muster the will to tug on Riddle's sleeve. As quickly as his reddened face came, it disappears when he glances back at your soft expression. Huffing out a heavy sigh, Riddle clicks his tongue and marches towards the exit.

"Let's be on our way, Prefect. We shouldn't waste our precious time on these trifles."

Needless to say, no one really wanted to test the housewarden's patience as he escorted you out of that Cathedral. Riddle certainly doesn't waste time hoisting you onto his horse and galloping away, not giving the prince a second to try and retrieve you.

He grumbles about the entire ordeal, mostly questioning the absolute ridicule of the marriage. What kind of prince thinks he can get away with it? Riddle is certain to send a complain to Royal Sword Academy regarding their lessons on conduct if no one tries to stop him.

You could easily see Night Raven College from afar as you peeked from behind his tuft of red hair. Riddle is still rambling, a preferable alternative to losing his temper entirely. "That ruffian dares to marry you and has yet to learn your name! How uncouth!" He spat in absolute distaste, and he finds comfort in the way you giggle in agreement.

Riddle doesn't seem to take note of the way your arms are crossed around his middle, or maybe he does, and just chooses not to let his blush show. He cleared his throat, gripping the reigns a bit tighter. "You will find better suitors, Prefect. Just promise me that he wouldn't be so impulsive as that Prince."

TREY CLOVER

"Can you drive any faster, Deuce? No, I don't think we're late. Better safe than sorry! ... Suit, check. Speech, check. Myself, check. I've got everything in order, but... hah, I'd expect to do this type of thing a few years down the line, let alone object at a wedding at all. At least, it's the Prefect's wedding... That's such a weird thing to conceptualize at this point in time."

He really didn't have to be so dramatic about the entire thing, but Trey is really going all-out for this objection. Really, all he's done is seen movies where someone objects at a wedding and while he knows its entirely fictional, our boy here has to drive the point home; no one is marrying the Prefect today.

So that explains why he even bothered to dress up and rehearse a speech throughout the entire ride to the cathedral. He has Heartslabyul helping him out to secure an escape for you in case things went awry. Sure, Trey's Unique Magic won't come in handy but he's good with his words, and is relatively charismatic. He's earned that title of Vice Housewarden, after all.

All that preparation flies out the window when he sees you down the aisle, however.

"Trey?"

He's blinking profusely, almost flustered himself by how radiant you looked in that wedding dress. For a moment, Trey swears that he's had some sort of tunnel vision when all he seems to see is you. It strikes some envy in him when he reminds himself that this wasn't his wedding, and this wouldn't be yours either.

"Prefect..." Trey breathed out, struggling to recall the damn script he was supposed to follow. They are lost, just as he found himself lost in your sparkling gaze.

Screw the script, he was just going to have to wing this one.

He narrows his eyes onto the shocked prince, taking steps down that long carpet. "I've come to bring you back to Night Raven College."

Pierce raises a brow, glancing back at you and the intruder with suspicion. "On what grounds?" He questions snidely, uncertain of what to make of this new character. "If it is for anything trivial, then you may bother the Prefect later. You are obstructing a ceremony here, sir."

You recognize that dangerous glint behind Trey's eyes, and it only serves to make your heart race. Trey simply smirks, hiding away his hesitant exterior with a haughty farce. "I am afraid it cannot wait. I cannot allow the Prefect to be married without saying my piece."

He doesn't exactly know where all his bravado was coming from, but if he had to confess his feelings to you now, then so be it.

Trey looks at you, flashing a gentle yet sheepish smile. "Prefect, I fell for you. Hook, line, and sinker." You let out a dramatic gasp along with the onlookers, allowing a hand to fly to your parted lips. "I have harbored those feelings for a long time now, and I cannot bring myself to see you married without letting my heart be known."

Swallowing to himself, Trey's expression falters slightly, falling into one of softness. "Prefect, it is your happiness that I desire. No matter what happens, I will support your choice."

He didn't exactly have to tell you twice, not when you hurry yourself over to his side and latch onto his arm. You didn't have to feed his ego like that, but it isn't as if Trey had any room to complain.

Pierce is angered by the sight, glaring daggers at Trey with such envy and animosity. "Prefect, are you really leaving me on the altar?" As if to subtly annoy the prince even further, Trey hooks an arm around your waist and pivots you to turn. "It seems to be so, Prince Pierce. I fear that your beautiful bride will be stolen on this lovely afternoon."

You do not miss the way Trey smirks at your flustered expression. Just as he continues to walk you to the exit, you gritted your teeth at him. "Don't say such things!" You tell him as the heat rises to your cheeks. You hear him hum at your ear, followed by the slight press of his fingers on your hip.

"Why shouldn't I? You look beautiful in this dress," Trey murmurs in your ear, pushing the cathedral door open with his hand. "And I suppose that the prince hasn't coaxed this expression out of you. I almost feel sorry for him, that he never got the chance to see how lovely you are when you are putty in my hands."

Trey doesn't stop teasing you, even once you are back in Night Raven College. He wouldn't stop complimenting you either, aiming to have you as red as possible. He just can't help it. It's probably the high he got from confessing his feelings to you, or maybe it's the part where you're unsure if he was being sincere or not. Regardless, it was fun seeing you get all flustered because of him.

You are seated by the Heartslabyul's kitchen counter, snacking on some quick treats that Trey had prepared for you. He claims that it was a consolation for the fact you never got to taste your own wedding cake. Still clad in your grand wedding dress, you couldn't exactly care any less about the crumbs soiling the skirts. "You're no prince charming, Trey." You mentioned mid-bite, eyes glancing at the vice-housewarden who was seated across from you.

"What makes you say that?" He asks you with a slight smile, resting his chin on his palm as he shamelessly bored his gaze into yours.

You snort, rolling your eyes at his seemingly sweet disposition. "Prince Charmings don't tease the girls that they like until they're as red as Riddle." You huffed, digging your fork into the pastry. "You cruel man! You haven't stopped ever since you stole me from the prince!"

Trey chuckles, and you cannot keep yourself from gulping as he leaves his seat, sauntering towards you like a lion would his prey. "Oh? I suppose that I am no Prince Charming. I'm not a pure white knight either. If you think I am being cruel, I won't stop you, sweetheart."

Your heart stutters as he slides a finger underneath your chin, tilting your head so that your forced to look his way. Trey smiles at you, eyes twinkling with absolute mischief. "I highly doubt Prince Charmings steal kisses from their crushes either. For you, I will be kind. May I, sweetheart? I do not need your shoe size to know my feelings for you, at least."

CATER DIAMOND

"Gah, it just refreshed! They've just gotten past the walking part! Deuce, shortcut on your left! Sorry, I'm switching tabs between maps and the livestream! Prefect looks is such a cutie in that dress, it makes me so envious of the prince! Oh well, she really looks like she doesn't wanna be there anyways. I'm coming Prefect! I'll save you!"

There's just this image of Cater clinging onto Deuce on a blastcycle, raising his phone up for a signal as they attempt to maneuver their way through the streets. Everything just happened in such a rush, and Cater's scrambling to get to you. He isn't like Trey who bothers to prepare, but if anything, Cater will ramp up the dramatics to the maximum.

His real goal is just to get you out by any means necessary, and more preferably, without violence. So Cater will do what he does best; make a grand spectacle of the entire thing until the prince is forced to abdicate. Worst case scenario, he's going to drag you out the door and shove you onto the damn blastcycle.

If he has to play the part of your real paramour, then he hopes you'll forgive him. He's got the suit and the desperate look on his face ready to go!

Your jaw goes slack at the way Cater makes a dramatic run for the aisle, somewhat unused to that stricken expression on his face. You're almost concerned for him with the way he grips his knees, attempting to keep his balance as his eyes zone in onto yours.

"Prefect, you can't marry him!" It's too out of character of Cater, and you know better than to think he'd ever be this undone in public. "Is this what you really want?!" Before you could even reply, Pierce cuts in with a slight glare.

"And who are you to talk to my bride like that?" It is then when you catch wind of that mischievous glint in Cater's eye as he throws out his arm dramatically.

"I am the Prefect's sweetheart! Who are you to take my girlfriend like that?"

You have never heard the cathedral go so silent. You are utterly speechless, lips parted with absolute surprise. Clearly, judging by the way sweat had begun to form on the side of Cater's temple, you cannot help but think that this was all improv on his half.

Pierce turns to look at you, almost stricken by the ginger's declaration. "Prefect, is that true?" His voice trembles with fear. "Is that truly your... sweetheart?"

A part of you feels a bit sorry for what you were about to do, but you had to remind yourself that you had been dragged into a wedding on the same day you met this prince.

You are running now, sprinting to Cater's side as you clutch his hand in your own. Turning back to the scandalized prince, you nod firmly, playing along with the farce. "We've been dating for a long time now! And I'm in love with him!" You declare, sending gasps throughout the entire cathedral.

You glance up at Cater, mustering a smile across your features. "You came to save me!" He's almost surprised by the way you cling onto him even harder, but it only serves to sell the act even further. Cater smiles in return, holding you closely. "I'd never let you go, cutie. I love you too much to let you leap into the arms of another man."

Maybe the act is too good, too calculated. That is exactly what goes through your head as Pierce raises a brow in suspicion, narrowing his eyes onto the pair as if attempting to spot a mistake. "Is that so?" He murmurs until he crosses his arms, disbelief on his skeptical expression.

"Prove it."

Cater and you freeze up simultaneously, heads turning to glance at one another. He looked so caught off guard by Pierce's demand, and there's so many eyes on you both.

"You're both longtime sweethearts, right? I wouldn't want to split apart such a happy couple..."

Cater is staring at you, attempting to read your expression. It's difficult, especially when you look at him as your gaze gets even more glossy. He wouldn't want to do anything you didn't want to, and he's already readying himself to sprint out the door with you in tow.

"Prefect, you don't have to—mmph!"

You wasted no time in snaking your arms around his neck, pressing your lips against him with such boldness. He could feel you pour all your wants and longings into the kiss, the plush of your soft lips melding into his own. How could he not deny you his own affections, not as he cups your cheeks with his slender fingers and presses back against you.

He dares to go even further, pulling back for a slight gasp of air before diving back into you. Much to his delight, you aren't pulling away either, choosing to even entangle your fingers into his hair for leverage.

Then you hear a groan from the prince, followed by his pleas for you two to stop this display. It seems that he got the point now, at least.

Even as both of you exit the cathedral, Cater still maintains the image that he was your boyfriend. You don't exactly protest, and even then, it didn't seem to different to the way Cater had been treating you as a friend. He is still as clingy as ever, closing the physical proximities by having you hang onto his arm.

And you best believe he's snapping as much photos of you to commemorate the event. He's already updating his MagiCam account on his success, not to mention the pretty girl on his arm.

"Cater, what are you doing?" You asked, unable to hide the grin on your face as Cater sets up his camera against the tire of the blastcycle. You could see yourselves on the reflection of the device, followed by the grand beauty of the cathedral behind you both. He grins at you as he shifts at your side.

"What? It isn't everyday a cutie like you gets to look like a bride. We got the perfect backdrop!" He sings, sliding an arm around your waist as he strikes for a pose. You follow his lead, matching his energy with each shot.

"Careful! People are going to think we're dating for real!"

Cater smirks at you, leaning in closely to your ear with a sickeningly sweet tease. "Wanna make it official then, cutie? Can't have any random princes asking for your hand, not when you're dating me." He is not stranger to the way you blush, letting out a chuckle at the sight.

"Aw, cutie! Are you still thinking about the kiss? I didn't think you would be so bold about it." Pressing a quick peck on the cheek, he rests his chin on your head as he prepares for another pose. "Don't worry. CayCay's gonna initiate it next time!"

DEUCE SPADE

"Grim, which way?! I can't see the GPS! ... Don't I just have to go in there and yell 'I object'? It looks easy! I'll say it then drag Prefect out of there... Ha?! I need to prove that I have a good reason to get her out? Fine! I don't care, the Prefect needs me!"

Possibly the closest we will get to a legit Prince Charming. Perhaps Deuce is a bit on the rugged side, but he's possibly one of the most earnest and noble students from Night Raven College. He cares about you more than he cares about getting his feelings across, but that is not to say he won't be honest about it either in this confrontation.

He's not exactly sure on how to break up the ceremony. Grim and Ace are coaching him through what to say, and admittedly, the process seems too complicated. All he knows is that he has to run through those doors and convince the prince to not marry the Prefect by any means necessary.

"Deuce!"

He is the one to always come running at the sound of your name. Deuce had been someone you trusted during your stay here in Twisted Wonderland, and you never seemed to stop and think about just how attached that boy was to you. Sure, you held him closely as a friend and held affections for him, but the way he sprinted towards you was a testament to how much he cared.

"Prefect!" You are racing to meet him halfway, launching yourself into his chest. He catches you barreling into his suit, immediately wrapping his arms around you in a protective manner. Then he takes you by the soldiers, looking down at you with such concern and worry. "Are you hurt? Are you okay?" He fusses, earning a shy smile from you.

"I'm okay, Deuce. I'm okay."

"And what is the meaning of this?"

Catching sight of the infuriated prince, Deuce beckons you to stand behind him. Cerulean eyes narrow onto the groom with animosity, accompanied by the way his hands are itching towards his wand. "I can't let you marry her. The Prefect will be returning to Night Raven College with me." You can sense the nervousness in his tone, but Deuce remains firm in his words.

Pierce's eye twitches, and he scoffed in disbelief at Deuce's protective display. "I am afraid that cannot be possible. I am marrying the Prefect, and that is final." Clicking his tongue, Pierce rolls his eyes and holds out his hand for you to take. "Come, darling. I am not surprised that you have garnered the affections of an admirer, but I fancy you more than this one ever could."

Something in Deuce snaps as he lets out a cry.

"But I love her!"

You stiffen against his back, taken by surprise by Deuce's sudden confession. And the boy glares, and it almost so painful for Pierce to keep his stare, not when there was so much conviction and certainty behind Deuce's voice.

"I've loved her longer than you have, and known her much longer than that!" His voice cracks underneath the emotional turmoil bubbling within him. "Did you even stop to consider what she wants? Did you wonder if this wedding would make her happy in the first place?!"

You take note of how Deuce's fists are clenched pale, how his breaths had suddenly grown haggard. With a soft expression, you curl yourself onto his back, arms hugging him from behind in an attempt to placate him. His body stiffens against your hold, but he reaches to clasp your hands onto his own.

He is just thankful that you aren't seeing the way his eyes had begun to water at the thought of losing you entirely. "So please," He chokes out, expression twisted with a sort of agony.

"Please don't force her to marry you. She deserves so much more than that."

Thanks to the waterworks that Deuce had caused, the wedding was called off. There was just no way that the prince could marry you after Deuce poured his heart out to deter him from wedding you.

It's almost sweet, the way that Deuce lifts you onto the blastcycle and fixes the helmet onto your head. He encourages you to hold onto him tightly as he speeds away from the cathedral, all the more determined to settle you back into NRC.

By the time he's dropped you off at the Ramshackle Dorm, only then does he take the time to bask in how radiant you appeared in a wedding dress. Thinking about his crush in a wedding dress had never crossed Deuce's mind before, but this definitely gave him something to ponder about for the next couple of nights.

You are handing him the helmet, a shy smile surfacing across your features. "Thank you for saving me from that awful wedding." Deuce clears his throat, shifting his gaze as he takes the helmet from your grasp. "I didn't want you to do something you weren't willing to. It just isn't right."

He doesn't realize just how dry his throat as gotten when he cannot bring himself to keep his thoughts to himself. "I love you. I really do, and I wish I said it at a better time." He swallows to himself, letting the embarrassment burn into the back of his head as he recalls his declaration. It was only natural that 'like' would turn into 'love' after being your close confidant for this long, pining quietly during the months spent with you.

You cannot exactly blame him either, not when his feelings were entirely reciprocated. You shift on the balls of your heel, biting onto your lower lip.

And in a swift motion, you lean in to press a chaste kiss against Deuce's warm cheek. You pull away to bask upon the stunned expression on his face, only to give him a shy smile of your own.

"Would you be down to try confessing again tomorrow?"

ACE TRAPPOLA

"BAHAHAHAHA! THERE'S NO WAY THE PREFECT IS GETTING MARRIED. WHO WOULD EVER WANNA MARRY THE PREFECT? PFFFFT, GRIM, YOU'RE SERIOUSLY PULLING MY LEG HERE. YOU EVEN BROUGHT ME A FAKE INVITATION! AIN'T NO WAY THAT SHE— Oh... Wait, really? The wedding is happening right now? ... Oh."

Ace thought you were just messing him again for that one time he said that no one would ever be interested in you. He simply said that to discourage you from trying to pursue a relationship with anyone else, but he didn't mean for you to prove him wrong like that! He never believes Grim until Deuce, Riddle, and the rest of Heartslabyul receive invitations to a wedding that was meant to start in 3 hours.

This is the absolute worst time to be in denial about his feelings. The Prefect wearing a wedding gown is one thing, but another is the fact that the groom is some pompous prince from Royal Sword Academy. Does that guy seriously think he was your type? No way! Ace knows you better than anyone on this campus, so this guy can buzz off!

A part of him did think that you were serious about marrying this stranger. In all fairness, Crowley's allowance pales in comparison to whatever Mr. Money-Bags had over there. He wouldn't blame you if you were marrying the guy for money.

Still, the last thing he wants is for you to be whisked away to who knows where. Ace would never see you again, and as embarrassing as it sounds, he did get very attached to you. Yes, a part of him wants to keep you to himself, but he also values your autonomy here. And if he knew you that well, he knows that you wouldn't want to be married off like this.

"Prefect, I'm here to pick you up."

You are actually surprised by how princely Ace looked in that moment. Dressed in a suit befitting a groom, you could help but feel your breath stolen away once his scarlet eyes were pinned onto yours. You could have been fooled then, and perhaps, Ace did turn into a prince as he marched down the aisle with his arm outstretched for you to take.

Ace never realizes the way a victorious smile creeps onto his face when you break out into a grin, taking the skirt of your dress as you make run for it. The crowd gasps as you crashed into Ace's chest, and he does not hesitate to take a protective stance in front of you. With a haughty laugh, he smirks at the baffled prince. "Who are you?!"

The redhead's arm wraps around your waist, pressing your body closer to his own. "Sorry about that, but I'll be taking your bride indefinitely! Trust me, you'll be severely disappointed after spending one good day with her!" He snickered, much to your horrified expression. You lightly smack at his chest, glaring at him with that pout that he adores so much.

"Hey!" You whine, and Ace simply beams at the prince who hesitantly steps forward. The redhead snorts, rolling his eyes at the crowd that are offended at his immature display. "I'm doing you a great favor here! If you kissed those lips, she'll turn into an ugly green ogre by sunset!"

"HEY!"

Pierce's eyebrows are furrowed as he looks at you, as if pleading for you to return to his arms. "You'd best return her, boy. We can settle this maturely." Ace does not like the way that these bodyguards are eyeing him, shifting closer and closer as he backed you both towards the venue entrance. He never falters, and neither does that shit-eating grin on his face.

"Sorry, buddy. The clock's struck midnight and all your magic tricks are fading!" He barks. Now, he knows that an escape must be made. The last thing he wants is to have another Eliza-episode. He looks down at you with a wide grin, clasping you arm with a firm squeeze.

Ace sneaks into his pocket, still looking at you. "You know something, Charmant? Maybe not all the magic has gone yet." His hand reveals the Ace of Cards, and it is immediately thrown up into the air.

As the card reached its peak in height, a burst of smoke filled the air, obscuring the magician and yourself from view.

You don't exactly need a signal to start running when your feet began moving on their own, dashing towards the door followed by the Ace's laugh and the prince's demand for guards.

Ace has no white horse, but he has Deuce with his blastcycle! Who knows how the three of you managed to fit on that bike, but you made it work! The guards couldn't exactly catch up in their cars, not when Deuce was dodging vehicles left and right to make this escape. Ace did take one final look back, sticking his tongue out at the defeated prince before you all disappeared around the corner.

Ace gives you his shoes, despite how oversized they may be. You complained about those glass shoes on you, and to 'shut you up', he's given you his runners.

When you make it back to Night Raven College and all the adrenaline has died down, Ace stays by your side the entire time when you explain the entire situation to Crewel and Crowley. He acts so nonchalant about things, even as you both walk all over the campus like groom and bride.

It's a rather odd sight; you in your wedding gown, and Ace right next to you as you both sit on the bench by the Great Seven's statues. Students wandering about at night had given both of you puzzled stares, but no one is ever surprised when they realize it's you and Ace, however.

"Wow, Prefect. Not even a thank you?" He glances at your slightly annoyed expression, throwing his hands up defensively in response. "I was kidding about the ogre stuff! Really!"

You could only roll your eyes at his words, huffing as you crossed your arms across your chest. When you refuse to speak, Ace sticks out his lower lip into a pout as he leans his head onto your shoulder. "Come on, don't be like that. Are you actually that upset about it?"

There is no response from you, not even a glance as your nose is turned away from him. Then Ace sighs, practically clambering over your lap just so that you are forced to look at him. "Prefeeeect, I said I was sorry! What? Do I have to kiss you to make me apology authentic?"

Only then do you look back at him with a raised brow, almost expectant. Ace blinks with surprise, a slight blush creeping to his ears. "For real? You're serious?" He exclaimed, much to your agitation. You sigh even louder as you shove him off your lap, hastily getting up to your feet to leave him behind.

"Wait! Prefect, I said wait!" You feel a hand on your wrist, twirling you back to face the redhead. Ace bites onto his lower lip, unable to keep the red from flooding his cheeks. "I really just said all that mean stuff to get the prince off your back, you know? I didn't think you'd take it so seriously."

And when he sees that smirk creeping up onto your features, he groans as he leans in closely into your space.

"Now look at what you've done! You had me all panicked over what?" You feel his breath tickling your lips, followed by the way his hands crawl up your neck to cradle your jaw.

"If you just wanted a kiss, you could've asked..."

[lqveharrington]

Gentleman | R.L.

summary: remus lupin is the perfect gentleman.

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

includes: fluff, you and sirius are practically siblings, rem defending his girlfriend, someone gets pushed off a boat

a/n: all my inspo literally comes from the music i listen to 😭

James had invited the entire group down to the lake for the summer because it was the last summer before the last year of Hogwarts. He thought it should be memorable, and everyone loved the idea. His parents allowed him to borrow the lake house and boat, but only if everyone's parents were okay with it. Of course, your parents trusted you with your friends. The only rule was to stay in separate rooms from your boyfriend. Oopsies.

As the Potters’ boat slowed to a calm stop, the summer wind continued to blow through the air, the clouds nonexistent in the blue sky. The sun shimmered across the lake water and the radio played the top hits of the month, the sound drowning from the talking of the boat’s riders.

When Sirius had enough of all the chitchat, he quickly shed himself of his top and jumped into the lake water, splashing Marlene who was trying to tan on the boats end. She cursed him out and threatened to pull the ladder away when he splashed her again.

Witnessing the entire interaction, you hid a laugh behind a smile and left the girls to sit beside Remus who was sitting underneath the shade of the boat. You tucked your legs underneath your lap and leaned your chin on his shoulder. On instinct, his calloused hand found the space underneath your calf and gently squeezed even when talking to James. You admired his face glowing in the sun for a beat, eyes following the scars that were left behind from bad nights before he finally turned and met your loving eyes.

“Hey.” You murmur and grin when you felt him press a soft kiss to your lips. “Sirius just went into the water." He hummed and kissed you again, making you hum and separate once more. "You don't want to join him?”

“And leave you here all by yourself? What type of man do you think I am?” He thumbed your leg and felt for the rushing blood, ensuring there was a pule and that you were in fact real. It was a habit he was quick to have learned because of a full moon incident a year ago.

You shrug and rest your cheek on his shoulder instead, watching the gulls fly by and circle the food James was grilling. As he tried fighting them off with tongs, Lily and Dorcas began to draw sunscreen images on Marlene's back, not bothering to cover up their giggles.

“You don’t want to join the girls?” Remus tilted his head and scanned your side profile, following the contour of your face. He memorized every single bump and crease, gingerly tucking a piece of loose hair behind your ear when you looked back over at him.

You raise a brow at his guilty smile and analyze his mannerism, rubbing the one bit of sunscreen into his cheek. "What?"

“You just wanna stay in the shade with me, don't you, dovey?" He brought his hand up and gently cupped your cheek, pulling you close enough so he could press a kiss to your temple.

“Of course, wherever you are, I follow.” You grin as a blush creeps up your neck, not realizing Sirius had gotten out of the water and rolled his eyes at how affectionate the both of you were being.

“You two are so gross." He covered his eyes before shaking his head like the dog he was — ridding himself of all the water he brought up with him.

You groaned when you got hit with the water, glaring at the long-haired boy. He stuck his tongue out at you which you retaliated with your middle finger. You swore that Sirius had a secret hatred for you since you began dating Remus over a year ago.

Sirius gasped at your gesture and put a hand on his chest, returning the finger. Remus rolled his eyes at the both of you and gave you a pointed look, making you cover it with your hand.

"Prongs, do something! The lady won't go down without a fight!" SIrius complained and popped a soda can out of the cooler, leaning against the railing of the boat.

“Mate, I don’t know what you want me to do.” James threw him a confused look and reached inside the cooler to hand Lily her own can. "Besides, I can't do much here."

“You could toss her over board." Sirius muttered loud enough for you to whip your head toward him and glare.

"You were being mean first!" You move to stand only to be pulled back down into your seat. From the corner of your eye, you saw Remus pursing his lips in thought, making you sigh. "Rem—"

“Sit.” He practically commanded, rolling his eyes once more when you crossed your arms and legs in annoyance. But when you noticed his quick wink, you realize what he was going to do.

You smiled slyly toward Sirius when he met your eyes again. The poor unsuspecting bloke. Sirius gave you an annoyed look and went to say something — probably insulting all women — when Remus pulled him aside.

Assuming Remus was going to hangout with him instead of you, Sirius stuck his tongue out before yelping in surprise as Remus pushed him off the boat. Your eyes widened with a smile, stretching your neck to see where Sirius was flailing. The three girls burst out into laughter at the predicament and quickly moved away from all the splashing water, grabbing a polaroid to take a picture before he could get out. James just shook his head in disbelief, clasping his arm around Sirius’ and helping him up.

Remus tossed a towel in Sirius' direction before sitting beside you again, kissing the side of your head like nothing happened. You gave him cheeky smile and laced your hand with his.

“What a gentleman.” You chide before letting out a noise of surprise at the feeling of his lips on yours, dropping your hand to lay flat on his chest.

“Some gentleman you are.” Sirius muttered as he dried himself off. When he realized Remus was staring back at him with an unimpressed look, he took a huge step back behind James and quickly apologized. “Kidding, I’m kidding.”

You send him another death glare before staring up at Remus with soft eyes as he thumbed your palm, a small smile taking over your face. "You know we're probably going to get pranked anytime soon, right?"

"As long as I spend quality time with you, I think I'll be fine. Besides, he won't try anything too bad." Remus tilted your head up with his index finger. "I'm a gentleman anyway."

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[linoxpudding]

Falling For You

summary: based on the promt "you walk in, and my heart beats differently." – when his best friend unknowingly makes his heart race, he realizes it’s love, leading to a heartfelt confession that changes everything

pairing: skz x reader

genre: fluff, friends-to-lovers

a/n: oh to be confessed like this, based on this cute request ♡

*all the images are collected from pinterest, I tried to add pics that capture the vibe*

Masterlist

~°~

Bang Chan

You walk into Chan’s studio, balancing a takeout bag and two cups of coffee. It was already late at night. He looks up from his laptop, exhaustion written all over his face - until he sees you.

"You brought me food?" he asks, eyes softening.

You set it down on the small coffee table in the room. "You work too much." You can tell he’s been glued to his work all night.

Chan lets out a quiet chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, well…" He exhales, watching as you take his wrist and pull him up from the chair, leading him to the couch to sit beside him. Your legs brush as you begin unpacking the food containers.

For a while, the only sounds are the faint hum of the studio equipment and the soft rustling of food being opened. Chan watches you, the weariness in his eyes slowly fading as he takes in the sight of you sitting there, your presence grounding him in a way nothing else can.

Then, almost absentmindedly, he murmurs, "You walk in, and my heart beats differently."

You freeze, your heart skipping at his words. "What?" You blink, unsure if you heard him right.

His eyes flick to yours, realizing what he just said out loud. But instead of backtracking, he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"I mean it," he says. "It doesn’t matter how tired I am - whenever you’re here, suddenly, everything feels… better."

You swallow, warmth blooming in your chest. "Chan…"

He smiles, tilting his head. "Tell me I’m not crazy."

Your smile is soft, tender, as you lean forward a little. "You’re not crazy," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Because I feel the same way."

Chan exhales a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. He smiles, a little shy, but there’s something calming in his eyes, a quiet relief in knowing that what he’d felt, what he’d tried to keep to himself, wasn’t just a one-sided thing.

Then, with a soft chuckle, he reaches out, squeezing your hand. "Good," he says. "Because I don’t think I can keep pretending anymore."

Lee Know

You were at Minho's apartment, playing with Soonie, Dongie and Dori.

Minho leans against the doorway, arms crossed, watching you giggle as Dori climbs onto your lap. His cats are obsessed with you, and honestly? He doesn’t blame them. There was a certain comfort in watching you interact with his cats, and he found himself smiling, despite his best efforts not to.

"You guys are such traitors," he mutters.

You glance up, amused. "Because they love me more?"

He clicks his tongue, looking away. "My heart has an annoying habit of skipping when you’re around," he mumbles under his breath.

You blink. "What?"

Minho exhales, rubbing his temples. "Nothing."

You stand, stepping closer. "Minho..."

He finally looks at you, eyes searching. Then, in a moment of rare vulnerability, he murmurs, "I think you stole my heart the same way you stole theirs."

Your lips part in surprise.

"So you better take care of it," he adds, smirking - but there’s something nervous in his gaze.

You grin, reaching for his hand. "Guess that means you have to take care of mine too, then."

His smirk softens, and for once, he doesn’t hide. He stepped closer, leaning down, and as he did, you closed the distance, your lips meeting in a soft, tentative kiss.

Just as the kiss deepened, Dori meowed, rubbing against Minho’s legs. You pulled away, laughing softly.

"Of course," Minho muttered, letting out a sigh.

You grinned. "Guess we’ll finish this later."

He smiled, not letting go of your hand. "I’m counting on it."

As the evening passed, you both stole a few more kisses, the cats weaving around you both. This felt right, and you both knew this was just the beginning of something that was always meant to be.

Seo Changbin

It was one of your regular hangouts at his place. After catching up and playing some board games, you sat on the couch, cradling a warm cup of soothing lemon tea, when you burst into laughter at another one of Changbin's jokes.

You’re doubled over with laughter, clutching your stomach as Changbin wipes a fake tear from the corner of his eye.

"That..." you gasp between laughs. "That was the worst joke I’ve ever heard."

He grins. "And yet, you’re laughing."

You swat at his arm, still breathless. "I can’t help it. Your dumb jokes always get me."

Changbin watches you, his chest tightening in a way that’s almost painful. He’s always been strong and always carried himself with confidence, but with you? He’s just a guy who falls harder every day.

Before he can stop himself, he blurts out, "You walk in, and my heart beats differently. Like it just ran a marathon."

The words hang between you, soft yet heavy.

His ears immediately turn red, and he scrambles to cover it up, flexing his arms. "I mean, obviously, you make my heart race because I work out, and adrenaline -"

"Changbin."

He freezes. "Huh?"

You’re staring at him, a small, knowing smile playing on your lips.

"Just admit it," you tease gently. "No excuses this time."

He exhales sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. "Fine." His voice is quieter now, more certain. "I like you, alright? A lot."

Something warm spreads through your chest. "Good," you murmur, scooting closer. "Because I like you too."

His eyes widen slightly before his lips curve into that soft, downturned smile you love so much. "Really?"

"Really."

And just like that, the tension shifts into something lighter, something new.

Changbin lets out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. "Man, I was so ready to play that off."

You laugh, nudging him. "Yeah, well, I’m glad you didn’t."

He grins. "Me too."

And when he pulls you into a warm, crushing hug, neither of you feel like letting go anytime soon.

Hwang Hyunjin

It was another wine and paint evening with your best friend, Hyunjin. The room smelled like fresh paint and sweet red wine, soft music playing in the background as the two of you settled into your usual spot - his cozy living room.

You were laughing over some silly comment Hyunjin made about your attempt at painting, the wine giving you a bit more courage than usual. But as you glanced at him, something was different. His usual playful demeanor was gone, replaced with an almost unreadable expression, as if he were lost in thought.

"You’re staring," you teased, nudging his shoulder.

He blinked, snapping out of his daze. His lips tugged into a soft smile, but there was something deeper behind his eyes, something he wasn’t quite saying. He set his brush down slowly, his hands shaking just a little.

"Yeah," he whispered, eyes not leaving yours. "I guess I am."

You chuckled, confused but amused. "You okay there, Hyunjin?"

He didn’t respond right away, his gaze intense now, almost as if he were seeing you in a completely new light. Then, in a soft but steady voice, he said, "You walk in, and my heart beats differently."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you froze. The moment felt like it stretched on forever. The playful, carefree energy you both usually shared suddenly felt like it had shifted into something entirely new.

Hyunjin’s eyes softened as he continued, his voice a little shakier now. "I’ve always thought you were amazing, but... lately, when I’m with you, everything just feels different. My heart races, and it’s like nothing else matters. You’re more than just my best friend."

His words hung in the air, and your mind spun. You had always known there was something special between you, but hearing it out loud from Hyunjin’s lips made it all feel so much more real, so much more intense.

You set your brush down, staring at him for a moment, trying to process what he just said. "Hyunjin," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. "Are you saying what I think you’re saying?"

He smiled, a little shy now, the vulnerability in his eyes evident. "I think I am. I like you, more than just as a friend."

Your heart raced, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. There was something so beautiful in the way he looked at you.

You swallowed, your voice thick with emotion. "I like you too. A lot more than I should."

Hyunjin’s eyes softened even further, and before you knew it, he leaned in, his lips gently brushing against your lips in a tender, intimate kiss that made your heart race. You kissed him back with just as much eagerness. When you both pulled away, he chuckled softly, his breath warm against your lips.

"I’m glad," he murmured. "I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while."

And as you both sat there, surrounded by the soft glow of the room and the quiet hum of the music, you realized that everything had changed. But, in that moment, it felt like it was just the beginning of something even more beautiful.

Han Jisung

The arcade is alive with flashing lights and the sound of beeping machines as you and Jisung race through the games, each of you determined to outdo the other. You’ve been at it for hours, laughing and joking, each challenge bringing out the competitive side in both of you.

Jisung throws his hands up in the air in mock frustration, his usual playful energy bubbling up. “That’s IT. I refuse to lose to you again!” he declares, eyes wide with dramatic flair.

You burst out laughing, holding up the plushie you won from the claw machine, the prize dangling from your hand as a reminder of your win. “Face it, Han, I’m just better.”

He groans dramatically, acting like the weight of defeat is too much for him to bear. You can’t help but giggle at his antics, but as you turn to leave the game station, you catch a glimpse of his face - his usual smirk has faded into something far softer. He stops mid-motion, staring at you like he’s seeing you for the first time in a different way.

“Jisung?” you ask, your voice a little quieter, confused by his sudden change in demeanor. “You okay?”

He swallows, his expression shifting from amused to something more nervous. He glances down for a moment, seemingly gathering his thoughts before looking at you again. His words are almost a whisper, but the arcade’s lively hum suddenly seems to fade into the background. “My heart trips over itself whenever you’re near.”

Your breath catches. You freeze, unsure if you heard him right. “What?”

Jisung’s eyes widen in panic, his face flushing a deep red. “Oh my God, I did not mean to say that out loud-”

Before he can retreat into his usual nervous ramble, you reach out, grabbing his wrist gently, your heart pounding in your chest as you try to hold back your laughter. “No, no, don’t take it back,” you say, your voice teasing but soft.

He stops, blinking in surprise at you, unsure how to respond. “Why not?” he asks, the vulnerability in his eyes clear now, as if waiting for your reaction.

You grin, stepping a little closer to him. “Because mine does the same thing,” you whisper, quieter now, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you as you realize what you just admitted.

His jaw drops, his expression flickering between disbelief and sheer happiness. For a moment, neither of you says anything. Then, slowly, that trademark Jisung smile - bright, wide, and utterly infectious - spreads across his face.

He takes a step closer, his hand brushing yours with the same ease he’s always had, but now, it feels like it means something more.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that,” he admits, his tone soft but full of sincerity. You can’t help the way your heart skips at his words.

“Well,” you reply, your voice playful but tender, “I guess we’ve both been a little slow to catch on.”

Jisung grins, the familiar mischievous twinkle back in his eyes. “Maybe, but we’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

You nod, your chest full of warmth as you both stand there, the arcade noise fades into the background, and in this moment, it's just the two of you - in your own little world.

Lee Felix

It was a spur-of-the-moment decision to take a late-night walk under the star-filled sky. Felix had texted you earlier, saying he was picking you up for a walk, claiming he missed his best friend.

The streets are quiet, the world almost still, as you walk side by side with Felix. The cool night air brushes against your skin, and the distant hum of the city seems far away, leaving only the sound of your footsteps and the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind.

"You ever think about home?" Felix asks suddenly, his voice soft, carrying a hint of something deeper, something you can’t quite place.

You glance at him, surprised by the question. "Yeah, sometimes. Why?"

He exhales, his breath visible in the crisp air, and then looks up at the stars. "I think… being near you feels like home."

You pause, your heart skipping a beat as his words settle in. You stop walking, a gentle tension filling the space between you, the silence hanging heavy with unspoken emotions. Felix, sensing the change, looks at you, his expression both soft and vulnerable.

"Felix...." you begin, but you can’t seem to find the words to express the warmth blooming in your chest.

Before you can say more, his fingers brush yours. The contact sends a spark through you, igniting something that’s been simmering quietly beneath the surface. He turns to face you, his gaze locking with yours, and in that moment, everything else fades away.

"You walk in, and my heart beats differently," he admits, voice barely above a whisper. "I think I’ve loved you for a long time."

His eyes are wide, searching, hoping for a response. Your breath catches in your throat. You’ve known this feeling for a while, but hearing it from him makes it real. You smile, the warmth in your chest spreading to your cheeks as you step closer, intertwining your fingers with his.

"You are my home," you reply softly, your voice steady but full of meaning.

It felt freeing, finally having the courage to say this to him. Felix’s breath hitches, his eyes wide with surprise, and then, without another word, he pulls you into a hug. It’s warm, enveloping, the kind of hug that feels like you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

His arms tighten around you, and for a moment, you both just stand there, the world continuing to spin, but in that moment, it’s just you two - safe, together, and home.

As you pull back slightly, still holding him close, he smiles, his usual energy mixing with a softness you’ve never seen before. "I’m glad you feel the same," he says, a shy grin tugging at his lips.

With your hand still in his, you resume your walk, the night sky above you and the quiet comfort of each other’s company wrapping around you like a blanket. You don’t need to say anything more - because in that moment, you both know. You’ve found home.

Kim Seungmin

The movie night had started like any other - just the two of you curled up on the couch, a pile of snacks between you, laughing at the screen. But somewhere along the way, you’d drifted off, your head resting against Seungmin’s chest, your body curled into his side.

Seungmin sighs as he looks down at you, the soft glow of the TV casting gentle shadows across your face. The movie is still playing, but he’s barely paying attention anymore.

You’re so unfair.

You always fall asleep like this - so trusting, so comfortable, so close. And each time, it gets harder for him to pretend that he doesn’t want more.

He hesitates for a second, then, thinking you’re already deep asleep, he finally lets the words slip.

"Everything feels right when you’re here," he murmurs. His hand, which had been resting lightly on your back, stills. "I don’t know when it started, but… I don’t think I just see you as my best friend anymore." His voice is softer now, more vulnerable than he’d ever let it be if you were awake. "Like whenever you walk in, my heart beats differently."

His sighs and continues saying, "and if I had any sense, I’d probably keep this to myself."

"But you don’t," you whisper.

Seungmin freezes.

Your eyes flutter open, meeting his. A small, knowing smile plays on your lips.

"You weren’t sleeping," he accuses, ears turning bright red.

You shake your head, grinning. "Nope."

His mouth opens, then closes, then opens again - but no words come out. His mind is racing, trying to figure out what to say, how to backtrack, but you don’t give him the chance.

Instead, before he can overthink it, you cup his face and press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips.

Seungmin completely short-circuits.

His body tenses for half a second before melting into you, his hands gripping your waist like he can’t believe this is real. When you finally pull back, his wide eyes search yours, completely breathless.

"You- what- why—" he stammers, ears burning.

You laugh, leaning your forehead against his. "Because I feel the same way, idiot."

His lips part, processing your words, before the softest, happiest chuckle escapes him.

"You’re really unfair," he mumbles, his arms tightening around you.

"You love it," you tease.

And with a shy, utterly smitten smile, he whispers, "Yeah. I really do."

He rests his forehead against yours, the movie now just a distant hum in the background, both of you lost in the warmth of each other, and neither of you can stop smiling.

Yang Jeongin

Jeongin had planned this. Every little detail. The amusement park, the endless laughter, the way he let you win at a few games (but only a few), and now - this. The Ferris wheel. The perfect ending to a perfect day.

He’d been waiting for the right moment, but as he watches you take in the view, bathed in the soft glow of the city lights, he realizes - there is no right moment. There’s just you. And that’s always been enough.

The Ferris wheel sways gently as it stops at the very top, the city stretching below in a sea of twinkling lights. You and Jeongin sit side by side, legs dangling, the warmth of the evening still lingering in the air.

"Wow," you murmur, gazing out at the skyline. "It’s beautiful from up here.

Jeongin hums in agreement, but his eyes aren’t on the view. They’re on you.

When you turn to face him, you catch the way he’s looking at you - soft, thoughtful, like he’s trying to memorize this exact moment.

"What?" you ask, tilting your head.

He chuckles, shaking his head. Then, exhaling softly, he gathers his courage. "You walk in, and my heart beats differently."

The amusement park noise fades into the background. Your breath catches. "Jeongin…?"

He swallows, nervous but determined. "I wanted today to be special because I wanted to tell you that, I like you. A lot. And… I don’t want this to just be another one of our hangouts." His fingers fidget with the hem of his sleeve. "I was kinda hoping it could be our first date instead."

Your heart races, warmth blooming in your chest. "You planned all this… for me?"

"Of course," he admits, a little shyly. "You make everything better just by being there. And when you’re near, everything slows down."

A slow smile spreads across your face. "Then… let’s make it official."

And before he can say anything else, you close the distance, pressing a soft, fleeting kiss to his cheek.

Jeongin freezes, eyes wide, ears turning bright red. "W-Wait....does that-does that mean"

You chuckle, "yes, dummy. It means yes."

Jeongin exhales, a mixture of relief and something softer, something new. And then, with the Ferris wheel carrying you both gently forward, he reaches for your hand, fingers hesitantly brushing against yours.

This time, you don’t hesitate. You intertwine them, letting the world slow down just a little more.

[heylorrain]

🔞 MDNI 🔞

Words: 8,080 Tags: Ominis x F!Reader x Sebastian - Explicit - Characters are aged up

Thanks to my smut sensei @butternutt613, without you, this entire o.s wouldn't have been possible!

💓 Available on Ao3 with the full image 💓

Studying charms had become your downfall. Despite a week of studying, the information just wouldn't stick. Sebastian promised to help after Quidditch practice like the good boyfriend he was, but you knew he would take his time, so you decided to wait for him at his dorm. When you entered, Ominis was there unexpectedly, catching you both off guard. 

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry Ominis I-”

“No! No I should’ve…locked the door?” Ominis choked out with an awkward giggle. 

Every interaction with Ominis was fraught with tension and unspoken business. From the accidental brush of hands while walking to class, to his head resting on your shoulder in History of Magic, each moment only fueled the growing heat between you. But it all came down during the Amortentia lesson in Potion’s class, when Sebastian discovered that Ominis had smelled your scent in his potion. In a fit of jealousy, Sebastian became overprotective, and Ominis remained silent about his true feelings for you. The tension between all three of you was palpable now that everything was out in the open.

“I should probably go” Your stomach twisted into a tight, throbbing knot as your eyes raked over Ominis stretched out on his bed. 

His pants hung low on his hips, teasing just a hint of that V-line that made your mouth water. He was a masterpiece, and the way he laid there—languid, inviting, and oblivious to the storm he was stirring in your mind—was maddening.

“No!” - He lost his composure for a second there -“ I mean you don’t have to… you can, stay.” He said in a low voice. “I- I don’t think that’s a good idea” 

You couldn’t deny the fire raging inside you for him—the way his pale skin seemed to glow in the dim light, the way his gaze somehow looked through you as if he could see every filthy thought you were trying to hide. He was a paradox—gentle yet commanding, innocent yet so sinful. But Sebastian’s name flashed in your mind like a warning sign. You couldn't deny the intense feelings you had for Ominis, but you also couldn't betray Sebastian by acting on them…could you?

“Why?” Ominis asked, tilting his head. “Why isn’t it a good idea?” 

His hand twitched on the bedspread as he sat on the edge of it, fingers curling into the fabric like he was holding himself back from reaching out to you. You wanted those hands on you—needed them. You imagined them sliding up your thighs, gripping your hips, pulling you down onto his lap until you were grinding against his coc-

STOP IT! Focus. Answer him.

You swallowed hard, your voice shaking as you struggled to form a coherent sentence. 

“Be-Because of Sebastian. Because...” Your words trailed off as Ominis stood up slowly, his movements deliberate and hypnotic. "It's nothing," You added quickly, avoiding his gaze at all costs now. He was blind, blind but not fucking stupid.

“Tell me, I know you, I can tell something is bothering you.” He towered over you, his fists clenched at his sides, every muscle in his body taut with restraint. You could see it, feel it—the way he was holding himself back. “If you’re not going to, then, I’m afraid I have a confession to make”. 

He leaned closer and whispered in your ear. Every nerve on your body froze in place, adrenaline pumping through your veins. You held your breath, unable to move or speak as he revealed his darkest desires and secrets.The potion class had triggered something within you both, something that had been buried deep beneath the surface until that moment. 

His minty breath washed over your face like a drug, making your lips twitch and your lungs ache for air. You hadn’t realized you’d been holding your breath until your chest heaved, drawing in the intoxicating scent of him. 

When he finished his confession, your eyes finally locked with his, burning with shock and realization that you both were now on the same page.  

His lips were so close, you could almost taste them, and it took every shred of your willpower not to lunge forward. With clumsy fingers, you closed the door shut and frantically turned the lock, sealing you both in the dorm.

“Are you even aware of what you just admitted, Gaunt?”. You knew there was no turning back now. Not ever. 

“I am. But I’m afraid I can’t help it. It’s like a spell, a curse, that I can’t break.”

“A curse ?” You repeated. 

Fine, if he thought you as a curse, a curse you were going to be. 

Your body was acting on its own now. He should’ve known the consequences of his actions, should’ve known that his words would unravel you. 

“Is it a curse to love me then?”

He tried to slink away, his back hitting the wall like a cornered animal, but you weren’t having it. Not now, not when the air between you crackled like electricity. 

Fuck. This. Shit. 

You closed the gap, your hands sliding down his sides. Your fingers dug into the soft curve of his ass, molding into the back pockets of his pants. 

He leaned his head back against the wall, feeling you, his breathing becoming a bit more ragged. He could feel the warmth of your hands in his pockets, and the proximity between you two made his heart race. He closed his eyes, and spoke between breaths.

“It’s no curse loving you,” he whispered, his voice thick with lust. “But it’s a fucking curse knowing I could never have you.”

“But here we are,” you purred “inches apart, and still you resist me. Are you afraid of being cursed?”

His body tensed, every muscle coiled like a spring ready to snap. His hands had been gripping the wall behind him. His chest fell up and down more rapidly with the ragged rhythm of a man teetering on the edge of self-control. Your hands traveled all the way up until they reached the hem of his collar, and the way he groaned—low, guttural, desperate—said it all.

“I-I’m not afraid of being cursed. I’m afraid of …myself, of what I might do if you keep doing this to me” He rasped.

His eyes, now dark and hungry, locked onto yours, they were wild, "like a predator stalking it's prey"- fuck no. You weren’t a prey. You were the goddamn hunter, and he was yours.

“I’m not afraid of you, Gaunt…” Your fingers moved with deliberate slowness, unbuttoning his shirt one torturous button at a time. Each pop of fabric felt like an explosion, and his body jerked like he’d been electrocuted.

“We shouldn’t be doing this”

“But here we are…” 

Your lips hovered just inches apart from his, the temptation to give in to sin became nearly unbearable for either of you.

“Kiss me” You commanded. 

His resolve snapped like a cheap rubber band. He crashed his lips against yours in a kiss so deep, so possessive, it felt like he was trying to mark you from the inside out. His tongue invaded your mouth, slick and desperate, mapping every inch of your warmth like he owned it. And you knew he fucking did. His hands were everywhere, greedy, roaming your torso, your curves, your skin. He squeezed your waist like he wanted to leave bruises, his fingers digging into your flesh like he was trying to carve his digits on you. He’d spent too many nights jacking off to the thought of this moment, and now that he had you, he wasn’t going to waste a single goddamn second.

His cock strained against the fabric of his trousers, throbbing with every breath you took against his lips. But your inner devil wanted to play more games before things went further. You pulled back just enough to make him growl, your lips wet from his kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your nails scraping lightly against his skin as you tangled your fingers in his hair. You yanked his head back just enough to make him groan.

“Sebastian kisses me better” you teased.

His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you flush against him so you could feel exactly what you were doing to him.

“Is that so?” he said, a tint of jealousy in his tone “You prefer his kisses?” His hands slid down to your ass, gripping you like he was trying to remind you who you really belonged to.

“I can’t recall… let me taste you again” You smirked, the fucking devil incarnated.

He leaned in again, capturing your lips in another kiss. His tongue sought entrance into your mouth, swirling with yours as you eagerly opened up to him. The taste of you on his lips was exquisite, and your teasing only fueled his desire. 

“More” You moaned. 

That was it. 

He growled into your mouth, not some soft, romantic purr but a deep, primal rumble that vibrated through your lips and straight down to your core. His hands slid under your shirt, cupping your tits like it was his birthright, squeezing them hard enough to make you moan.

Ominis pushed you harder against the door, placing his knee between your legs and forcing you into a sitting position. Your hand lazily traveled down his chest, then down his stomach, lower they went, down to the waistband of his pants, where the outline of his cock strained against the fabric, throbbing with a need so intense it was almost painful. But you, let your hand hover there, taunting him. Your fingers grazed the tip of his shaft through the material, and you heard him groan in anticipation, before you pulled away completely, ignoring it, teasingly denying him what he so desperately craved.

“W-why—” 

“You’re still holding back, Ominis. You are not getting it until I say so” You muttered in his ear.

But little did you know, he could play the same game. Fuck, he could even play it better than you. 

He paused for a moment. His fingers traced a path from your knee, skimming over your thigh with a touch so light it made your skin prickle with goosebumps. Down your skirt, deeper he went, his hand cupping your ass for a moment, squeezing hard enough to make you gasp before he moved on. His fingers danced across your inner thigh, tracing circular patterns that made your legs tremble, until they finally reached the soaked fabric of your panties. You flinched, trying weakly to escape the caress that had already happened.

“Is that so?” He purred with satisfaction, leaning into your neck. “I was holding back for your own good, but now it’s obvious what you really want.” He said before biting into your jugular. 

Oh, how the tables had turned for you. 

“I warned you,” Ominis growled, taking his time to keep ghosting over your entrance, still tamed by a piece of cloth. “but you wouldn’t listen.” He carefully pulled it to the side and spread your legs wider, fully exposing you. You whimpered at his warm touch, feeling your pussy clenching around nothing, begging for his touch. “You never listen”.

With a feather-light caress, he hovered his thumb gently over your clit, almost touching it, causing you to pathetically moan louder in anticipation of what you thought was coming next. 

“Oh? Needy are we?” He chuckled.

But just as quickly as he’d exposed you, he let the fabric snap back into place, the soft cotton brushing against your clit and making you whine. You couldn’t stand the sight of him over you any longer. He had barely touched you and you’d succumbed so easily. You thought you had him under control, but it turned out to be the other way around. 

Your hips bucked instinctively, desperate for more.

“You want me to touch you?” He taunted, his tone dripping with mockery. 

But the words stick in your mouth like thick honey, unable to escape. He grabbed your throat gently, carefully tightening his grip around you, feeling your pulse under his fingertips. Understanding you needed a little push, his fingers roamed back to your core, doing the same ritual he had performed only a few seconds ago. 

“Ss-sspeak.” He commanded.

“Please,” you choked out, your hips grinding. “Please, touch me.”

He chuckled darkly, his fingers final-fucking-ly caressing your entrance, gathering your slick and spreading it over your lips, teasing you until you were practically sobbing. Then, he pushed one finger inside you in one swift motion.

You gasped, your walls clamping down around him. Your slick coated his finger, making every thrust glide in and out of your tight core easier each time. The sound of your musky arousal was painfully loud to you. But for him, it was music to his ears. You opened your eyes and whined loudly, crumbling like sand, little by little under his touch, and he was enjoying every second of it. 

“I bet you look beautiful when you’re like this” Ominis devoured you with his beautiful eyes, looking you dead in the eye as he introduced a second finger in you.

Your body betrayed every ounce of need coursing through your veins.He continued to work you, unhurried, taking his time feeling every shiver your body made when his fingers fucked you, slow and steady, his rhythm maddening. Your clit throbbed, begging for attention, and you couldn’t help but grind against his palm, fucking yourself on his hand.

“You’re such a mess, darling” He teased, his breath hot against your ear. “But you love this, don’t you? Taking my fingers like the good girl you are, writhing around like you can’t get enough.”

You couldn’t even form a coherent response—your brain was mush, your entire body on fire. Your hands clawed at his shirt, desperate for more of him. He didn’t stop you. Your fingertips crawled under the fabric when he fastened his tempo on you.

“Please…” You whimpered. You didn’t even know what you were begging for—his cock? His tongue? More of those fucking fingers that were deliciously destroying you from the inside out? All you knew was that you needed him, needed more, and if he didn’t give it to you soon, you were going to lose your goddamn mind.

Your cries were muffled by his palm, but your body was screaming for him, your hips bucking against his hand as you almost reached your peak. But a knock on the door made you both stop.

“Ominis? Are you in there?” Sebastian asked.

The sound of Sallow’s voice was like a bucket of ice water being thrown at both of you. Ominis froze, his fingers buried knuckle-deep in your cunt. The slick, obscene sound of them sliding out of you was almost as loud as your sharp gasp. You could feel your juices trickling down your thighs, hot and sticky, as his fingers finally left you empty. His hold on you loosened, making your feet find the ground. He rested his forehead against yours, his breath coming in heavy and fast rasps.

“Answer him” You whispered.

“Yess-ss…” He forced out the words, dragging them like a snake's hiss. His annoyance at being interrupted only heightened the tension in his voice. 

Sebastian’s voice came again, a loud whisper. “Ominis, I swear to Merlin, if you’re jerking off in there—”

But the sound of other voices echoed throughout the corridor, indicating that Sebastian was being distracted by other students, meaning you’d have time to hide… or think of another solution. 

Right?

Wrong.

You were drowning in Ominis Gaunt, your head swimming with the thick, intoxicating scent of his body, your mind haze-drunk on the forbidden. Your trembling fingers fumbled clumsily at the last button of his shirt. It popped free, and there it was—his chest, a landscape of goosebumps rising under your greedy gaze. His breath hitched, his cock already straining again and again against his pants, begging for release. 

“This is wrong, so wrong...” he muttered.

But his words were hypocritical, a pathetic attempt to gain his restraint back. His hands were already on you, yanking your shirt up and over your head like a man possessed. The fabric hit the floor, and there you were—bare, exposed, your tits bouncing free, your nipples hard and begging for his mouth. He closed his eyes and inhaled, he wanted to devour you whole, and of course, you wanted him to.

His hands hovered over your chest, trembling, hesitant, like he was scared of the power he had over you. But then his fingers brushed your nipples, and fuck, the spark that shot through you was almost deathly. You bit your lip to stifle the moan, but it was a losing battle. 

His teeth sank into your shoulder, his hands digging into your sides hard. You shivered, but he held you down, his body pinning yours. His tongue dragged a wet trail from your shoulder to your collarbone. He moved lower, his mouth closing over one of your tits. His tongue grazing your nipple. He bit down gently, then harder, and the pain melted into pleasure, your skin burning where his mouth had been.

“Shh,” he growled, slapping a hand over your mouth before you could scream. But it was too late—your moan spilled into his palm, muffled but still filthy, the sound of pure desperation.

“So, you are busy then?” Sebastian's insistence grated on Ominis' nerves. He stopped paying you attention and got closer to the door.

“I am not- WhatdoyouwantSebass-sstian?” He snapped

"Oh? Not busy then?" You whispered with a smirk.

Your hands roamed down this stomach until they found exactly where he needed you the most. Your fingers danced over the waistband of his pants, teasing the lace ties that kept his cock hidden away. Ominis’ body betrayed him, his cheeks flushing a deep, sinful red as he tried—half-heartedly to swat your hands away.

“Don’t you d—” he started, but the words dissolved into a choked moan as you yanked the lace free, his cock springing out with a hungry, throbbing eagerness.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his breath hitching as you dropped to your knees before him.

It was a pure and sinful invitation: veins pulsing and pre-cum glistening at the tip. You didn’t waste time. Your hands wrapped around his cock, fingers clumsily exploring the heat and hardness of him, feeling the way his cock twitched in your hand, desperate for more.

“Then if I come in, I wouldn’t be interrupting anything, right?” Sebastian insisted.

Ominis’ grip on the doorframe tightened, his knuckles turning white as he fought to keep his voice steady.

“No” he managed to answer, but the word was brittle, already cracking under the pressure.

“No?” you teased, your tongue darting out to taste the head of his cock, tasting the salt of his arousal.

His flavor was intoxicating, you couldn’t get enough. You wrapped your lips around him slowly, taking him inch by inch into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the sensitive underside of his shaft. Ominis’ breath hitched, a low, guttural groan escaping him as he gripped your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands with a possessive urgency.

“Actually, yess-ss you are interrupting.” Ominis stammered, his voice trembling as he tried to maintain the illusion of control. But you weren’t about to let him pretend.

Your hands roamed lower, tugging at his pants until they hit the floor in a crumpled heap, leaving him completely bare before you. His skin was pale and smooth, marked by a couple of moles spread like constellations over him and the faint trails of your nails as they dug into his thighs, leaving red scratches in their wake. He didn’t seem to mind—in fact, he seemed to fucking revel in it, his hips bucking forward as you took him deeper into your mouth. His grip on your hair tightened, guiding your head back and forth with a slow, deliberate rhythm that had him biting down on his lip. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room—wet, filthy, and utterly obscene.

Ominis’ eyes fluttered shut, his head thudding against the door as he lost himself in the sensation. His thumb brushed over your lips, smearing the spit that dripped down your chin, feeling with his hands on your cheeks, his cock fucking your mouth with slow, shallow thrusts.

But just as you began to drink in the full, glorious image of him—his cock slick and swollen fucking you, his body trembling with need—he closed your eyes with a gentle caress of his hand, his thumb resting on the edge of your mouth, feeling the friction of his cock in you.

The wet sounds of your lips wrapped around him grew louder, more frantic, and Ominis’ control was slipping fast. His hips jerked forward, his cock hitting the back of your throat in a way that had you gagging, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. But he didn’t care—he didn’t fucking care. All that mattered was the way your mouth felt around him, the way your throat tightened as he pushed himself deeper, the way your hands clawed at his thighs like you were desperate for something to hold onto.

“Ominis?” Sebastian’s voice was sharper now, more insistent. “Are you with... someone?”

“I-I’m relaxx-xxing…okay?” Ominis said between his teeth. 

He was having you on a golden platter. Just for him. And he was starving. His hand fisted in your hair, slowly yanking you onto his dick. You squint one eye open, catching a glimpse of his abs flexing, his hips driving deeper, harder, until your nose pressed into his base. The sound of a soft pop broke the trance as he pulled his slick cock from your mouth, leaving a shimmering thread of spit dangling between your swollen lips and him.

"You're such a good girl" he growled in approval. His fingers traced your jawline, smearing spit across your cheek as he smirked down at you. “But let’s not forget—ladies first.”

He helped you up, not giving you time to react when he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties, tugging them down slowly, leaving you only with your skirt on. He pressed you against the door, teeth sinking into the back of your neck. He hissed against your ear, something you didn’t understand in Parselmouth.

“I said, bend for me ” He commanded.

You felt his hand pressing down on your back, forcing you to arch and present your ass to him like an offering. You reached behind you, desperate to feel the heat of his cock, but Sebastian interrupted again. 

“Ominis, open the fucking door!” 

Sallow was getting impatient, you could tell, and it was a matter of time before he casted Alohomora on the lock. You immediately stood straight, sick and tired of being interrupted over and over again.You turned to Ominis, breaking the moment for him, who was already kneeled. He looked angrily at you, like if you’d interrupted his meal… And well, you kinda did. 

FOR FUCKS SAKE. 

Can’t a girl just get a pleasent fuck in peace?

You opened the door boldly, just to find Sebastian with his ear pressed against the door. He froze in surprise as you quickly pulled him inside, closing the door behind you. 

Ominis remained on his knees, motionless and stunned. Did you just open the door to Sebastian, mid-fuck?.

“There, happy?!” You said, but it quickly dawned on you what you’ve just done. 

Well, shit.

After the longest awkward silence ever, Sebastian finally reacted. 

"I knew it! I knew it," He began to panic, his hand running frantically through his hair. The glint of tears glistened in his eyes as a feeling of betrayal consumed him. "I knew you were both going to do this to me sooner or later. I knew you'd betray me. How could you do this to me? I've done nothing to deserve this." Tears streamed down his face.

But there was something about seeing Ominis slim naked body for the first time that made Sebastian unable to take his eyes off of him when the blonde stood up from the floor. And then, there was you—knees dirty, thighs slick with sweat and finger marks, and your hair all disheveled. He tried to brush off the strange feeling that had started building on his chest. It was betrayal, yes, but also something more.

“Relaxing, Ominis? Fucking relaxing?” Sebastian spat, his voice dripping with sarcasm, his eyes flickering between Ominis and you “Did you two—?”

“No,” you cut him off, but your voice was shaky, breathless.

Not yet…

But Sebastian wasn’t buying it. Not for a second.

“How long has this been going on?” Sebastian’s voice was low, as he dropped onto the nearest bed, his thighs spreading slightly. His pants strained against the bulge that was already pushing against the zipper. He shouldn’t be this turned on, could he? He should be furious, raging at the betrayal of watching you and Ominis together. But all he felt was heat—a molten desire that coiled in his gut.

“Just today,” Ominis answered, his voice steady, calm, like he wasn’t standing there with his dick out and his lips still swollen from kissing you.

Fuck, even his voice was enough to make Sebastian’s breath hitch.

“Just today,” Sebastian repeated, his tone mocking.

He shifted uncomfortably, trying to cross his legs to hide the massive tent in his pants, but it was no use. The outline of his cock was obvious, straining against the green pattern trousers, throbbing with every beat of his heart. His breath came in short, sharp bursts, and his hands clenched into fists at his sides to keep from reaching out and grabbing you both.

He shouldn’t want this. He shouldn’t. But goddamn, the sight of you two together—naked, sweaty, and still catching your breath—was enough to make his head spin. Sebastian’s stomach twisted, not with anger, but with a hunger so fucking raw it might as well have been feral.

Ominis stepped closer. He knew his best friend too well to not get the silent hint. “You’re enjoying this,” he said, his voice low and teasing. It wasn’t a question.

Sebastian’s jaw clenched, but he couldn’t deny it.

“Shut up,” he growled, but there was no bite to it. His hands twitched, itching to touch, to grab, to claim.

And then Ominis did something that made Sebastian’s brain short-circuit. He dropped to his knees in front of him, his hands resting on Sebastian’s thighs. He looked up at him through his blonde lashes.

“You smelled us both in your Amortentia potion didn’t you?,” Ominis purred, his breath hot against his crotch. “That’s why you’ve been so defensive and… jealous.”

You moved closer to them, finally understanding everything. Your fingers glided through their hair with deliberate intent, locking eyes with Sebastian. More tears clinging to his dark lashes, betraying the turmoil within him as he struggled to accept the desire that burned inside him. 

“Cinnamon and mint” He confessed in a low whisper.

He looked at you with watery eyes, and clumsily, unzipped your skirt. He kissed your lower belly, taking in your sweet scent.

You caressed his cheek as you sat behind him, your fingers deftly navigated the buttons of his shirt, each pop echoing like a thunderclap of liberation. As the fabric slipped away, his freckled back emerged, vulnerable and exposed. You enveloped him in an embrace, the press of your chest against his back a soothing balm to his chaotic soul. He exhaled deeply, surrendering to the raw emotions he had finally acknowledged. His head fell back with a groan, resting on your shoulder, his fingers tangling in Ominis’ hair as the blonde worked quickly to free Sebastian’s cock from its confines.

“Close your eyes, darling” You whispered in his ear as your palms caressed his eyelids, closing them, then proceeded to roamed his body, all the way to the base of his cock.

Ominis wrapped his lips around the tip, swirling his tongue around the sensitive head before sinking down further.

Sebastian was fucking gone. He didn’t know where he ended and you two began. His hips jerked upward as Ominis worked him, and his breath was caught on his throat at your hands, one on his groin, and the other one around his neck, tightening little by little with each thrust his hips did. 

“You’re so warm” Sebastian exhaled breathlessly. “You feel so good, so fucking good”

“Just enjoy this, Sebs,” You muttered as your hand wrapped around his throat “and be a good boy” 

A cry rolled from his lips as Ominis fastened his tempo on him, his hands roaming his thighs, pulling him deeper into him. 

“I’m gonna cum. Stop…” Sebastian pleaded. “Stop”

“Manners, Sebastian?” You whispered.

Ominis pulled away with a loud pop, but his hand quickly replaced his mouth and kept working him. 

“Well?” Ominis insisted.

“P-Please” When Sebastian said the magic word, Ominis then stopped. 

“Good boy” Ominis praised before crawling into the bed with you, where you both guided Sebastian to join you. 

You positioned yourself between the two of them, so that you could reach both of their mouths with yours. You pulled Ominis into a primal kiss, your tongues tangling together as he moaned into your mouth, your hands gripping his hair as he devoured you. His hands were everywhere, gripping your hips, sliding up your sides, cupping your tits like he wanted to eat you whole.

At the same time, you took Sebastian's hands and guided them to your breasts as well, encouraging him to explore your body however he liked, moaning as he cupped them, his rough fingers toying with your nipples, pinching them just hard enough to make you gasp against Ominis’ lips. His cock throbbed against your back, leaving a sticky trail of precum on your skin as you ground yourself against him involuntarily. You could feel his tongue on your neck, his teeth sinking into your flesh, sucking and biting.

Then, you grabbed Ominis’ hand and guided it to Sebastian’s neck, giving Sebastian the green light to finally kiss the man he’d been craving. And thank the gods you did. 

Their lips met in a kiss so hot it should’ve set the room on fire. Their tongues tangled, slick and desperate, their cocks pressing against you from both sides, front and back, like they were trying to carve you with their hardness. You reached down and wrapped your hands around their cocks. They were both so hard it felt like steel in your grip. Precum dripped from their tips as you started stroking them—slowly, painfully slowly—spreading their slickness up and down their shafts, your fingers sliding over every vein and ridge. Ominis moaned into Sebastian’s mouth, his hips bucking into your hand, while Sebastian’s breath hitched.

You were the fucking conductor of this depraved symphony, your body writhing between them, your hands working their cocks with a rhythm that had them both on the edge of losing it. You could feel Ominis’ cock throbbing in your grip, his breath coming in ragged gasps, while Sebastian’s hips were jerking uncontrollably. 

When you felt they were about to reach their peak, you stopped. Therefore, they did too, panting and regaining their senses. You shifted to face Sebastian, his lips slick with spit crashing into yours as your body moved with a purpose, getting in four, offering yourself to Ominis first.

Sebastian’s eyes went wide, his cock twitching at the sight of you, your ass presented to his best friend, and your lips parted and waiting for him.

The blonde’s cock teased your entrance, the tip of him brushing under your folds a few times, brushing your clit and making you shiver. He was thick, his shaft heavy with need, and you could feel the heat of him as he pressed against you.

“Fuck me,” You commanded.

And either of them need to be told twice. Sebastian came forward in an instant, his cock in his palm, hovering over your mouth, the tip dripping with precum that you licked up like it was candy. Your tongue swirled around the head, teasing the slit before taking him deep into your throat. Your hands reached up to grip his hips, pulling him closer as you sucked him like your life depended on it.

Meanwhile, Ominis was pushing inside you, his cock finally stretching you open in the most delicious fucking way. Your pussy clenched around him, feeling him, greedy for every inch as he filled you up. His hips snapped forward, driving himself deep as he let out a guttural moan. His hands were on your ass, holding you open as he fucked you.

Your moans vibrate on Sebastian’s cock, making Ominis slide a hand down your back to your scalp, making you take Sebastian even deeper with each thrust. 

“You’re taking us both so well.” 

Sebastian reached to your cheek, brushing off a tear that had begun to roll down your face. His other hand was in your hair, gripping it tight as he used your mouth. 

But then his eyes flicked over to Ominis, and his rhythm faltered for just a second. The jealousy hit Sebastian like a fist to the gut.

“Fuck,” Sebastian growled “why does he get to be in you first?” His hips jerked harder, driving his cock down your throat until you choked “You like his cock better than mine?” 

You were able to moan a “no”  in response but Ominis cut you off right away.

“Don’t lie,” Ominis purred, squeezing your buttcheeks harder with each thrust. 

“I’m gonna cum,” Sebastian warned, his voice strangled as he kept fucking your throat. 

You didn’t stop, couldn’t stop, your tongue working him over as Ominis pounded into you from behind. The symphony of the wet sounds of your pussy taking Ominis’ cock, the choked moans coming from Sebastian as he fucked your face filled the entire dorm.

And then it happened. Sebastian came with a quiet shout, his cock pulsing as he shot load after load down your throat. You swallowed every single drop, your eyes rolling back as Ominis kept hitting your sweet spot. 

Sebastian’s hands were firm as he helped you up, carefully to not interrupt Ominis. His lips crashed into yours, hungry and possessive, the taste of himself still fresh on your tongue—salty, primal, and his. Your nails dug into his chest as the pure ecstasy of the moment consumed you.

When Ominis felt he was about to cum, he stopped and grabbed you from behind and trailed kisses down your back. You moaned at the loss of his cock in you.

“Not yet…” He teased. 

His lips trailed down and up your back, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses that made you shiver. His teeth sunk into the tender flesh of your neck, and you let out a gasp, your body arching against him as his fingers pinched your nipples—hard, just the way you fucking liked it.

“You’re more mine than you are hiss-ss,” Ominis growled into your ear in Parselmouth, his voice dripping with dominance, and a moan tumbled from your lips, raw and unfiltered.

Your hardened nipples were an open invitation to Sebastian’s mouth, which he immediately accepted, ruthless and hungry as he descended on your tits, sucking one hardened nipple into his mouth while his fingers pinched and twisted the other. Your back arched as you ground yourself against his hand, needing more, needing everything. Sebastian’s fingers plunged into your slick pussy, curling deep inside you, hitting that sweet spot over and over again. Your juices coated his fingers, sticky and warm, as he pumped them in and out, until he had to hold you so you could stand still. Ominis grabbed your hips in place, and tightened his grip around your neck until he could feel the pulsing of your heart on your throat. His cock slid under your ass cheeks until he felt Sebastian fingers.

“You were the one who opened the door, remember?” Ominis whispered as he bit the shell of your ear. “How does it feel like to have both of us fucking you?”

The words trying to leave your throat weren’t coherent, you couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, your body was a quivering mess of pleasure and pain as they fucked you, tearing you apart and putting you back together with every thrust, every touch.

“You’re so perfect,” Sebastian growled, his lips brushing against your other ear, his voice rough with desire. “Your pussy’s like fucking velvet.”

You reached your climax, yes, but they didn’t stop, they accompanied you further in the waves of your first orgasm, their bodies moving in perfect harmony with yours.

Sebastian’s grin was predatory, he spun you around so you could face Ominis, his fingers—still slick with your arousal—pressed against your lips from behind. Your mouth opened like a reflex, your tongue flicking out to taste yourself, the tang of your juices mingling with the salt of your sweat. 

Ominis couldn’t resist you. His forearms hooked under the back of your knees, pulling your legs wide open. Sebastian’s chest pressed against your back, pinning you in place as Ominis slid the head of his cock into your dripping cunt with one smooth, deliberate thrust. You gasped, the stretch of him almost too much, but fuck, it felt good.

He buried himself into your pussy. The obscene slaps of his hips against your pelvis echoed in the room, and you could feel every vein, every ridge of his cock as he pulled out and slammed back in. You glanced down—couldn’t help it—and saw your tits bouncing up and down and his cock disappearing into your slick.

“You like watching him fuck you?” Sebastian purred in your ear, his voice dripping with mockery and lust. You nod. “You like seeing him penetrate you, don’t you? Say it so he can hear you admit it”.

“Ye-Yes, I l-love it” You said between breaths.

Ominis’ hands gripped your hips harder, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust. You were fucking drowning in sensation, your pussy throbbing around him, your clit still tingling from your previous climax.

Your second orgasm hit you like a mad train, and Ominis didn’t fucking stop. He drove into you harder, faster, his cock slamming into that sweet spot inside you until you were screaming, your body shaking like a leaf, prolonging your ecstasy. He pulled out at the last second, his cock jerking as he painted your stomach with thick ropes of cum, each shot followed by a low, guttural growl.

And then... then they were gentle. Sebastian’s fingers brushed the hair from your face as Ominis pressed soft kisses to the nape of your neck. They cleaned you up with tender care, their voices low and soothing as they whispered sweet nothings into your ear. You leaned into their touch, your clumsy hands roaming their bodies as they showered you with affection.

For all the filth they’d just put you through, they knew how to make you feel like a queen after. But you knew this was far from over.

“Lay down,” Sebastian then commanded in a whisper, and you both obeyed instantly.

Sebastian laid on his side next to Ominis, wrapping his hand around Ominis’ cock, his strokes fast and relentless, keeping his friend’s dick hard. 

And you? You had some making up to do for interrupting Ominis’ meal earlier. You crawled toward the wooden bedframe, your thighs framing Ominis’ head like a crown. He didn’t waste a second. His forearms hooked down your thighs, making you sit. His tongue dove into your cunt, lapping up every drop of your -and his- arousal, his nose pressed against your clit, his breath hot against your slick folds. You ground yourself against his face as his tongue worked you tenderly, his lips sucking and nibbling at your sensitive flesh.

Sebastian’s hand was slick with sweat and something stickier as he worked Ominis’ cock, stroking him with a rhythm that was almost musical. Sebastian’s mouth left a trail of possessive kisses and sharp little bites that made Ominis hiss and writhe beneath him. 

Sebastian’s tongue found the scar just below the V of Ominis’ hips—a jagged, pale line that told a silly childhood story. He licked it with a tenderness that was almost mocking, the heat of his mouth making Ominis’ back arch.

“Ss-sSebastian" The word was muffled by your body above him. But you hear it. Sebastian heard it. Probably the whole fucking common room heard it. 

Sebastian responded, like a dog being called by its master. He dropped his head, swallowing him down to the root in one smooth motion. The wet, slurping sounds he was making were loud, obscene and totally on purpose so you could hear what he was doing. 

And it fucking worked. 

You climbed off Ominis, your thighs trembling, as he licked his lips clean with a shameless moan. You kissed your way down his chest, your tongue tracing the ridges of his abs, your hands roaming lower while Sebastian continued to blow him with lips and tongue, his eyes closed, lost in the rhythm. Your fingers laced with his brunette hair, encouraging to take Ominis even deeper. 

“He looks so pretty with his lips around your cock, Ominis” You teased, caressing his groins, seeing how he twitched even more at your touch. 

“Ss-Sebastian fucking Ss-Ssssallow,” Ominis hissed again, his voice a broken rasp, his hips bucking up into Sebastian’s mouth.

You switched places with Sebastian then, positioning yourself between their tangled legs like some kind of snake. Both men were devouring each other, their hands couldn’t get enough of their skin, pushing and pulling into primal wet kisses, their cocks like two concrete towers framing the scene. 

Your mouth found Sebastian’s entrance, teasing it with slow, torturous licks while your hands worked them both at once—Sebastian’s cock heavy and hard in your palm, Ominis’ slick with spit and pre-cum on the other.

You took both of their fluids and began to caress Sebastian’s hole, preparing him for what you knew it was coming. It was so obvious, even Ominis could see it. Your fingers pushed into Sebastian, stretching him open with slow, firm motions while your mouth worked Ominis now, taking him deep until you choked on him. Sebastian moaned at the intrusion, his body opening up for you like a fucking flower, his hole clenching around your fingers like he was begging for more.

It was obvious—painfully obvious—what he wanted. 

Ominis sat and pulled you up with him, raining kisses over your arm and shoulder as he laid you on your back next to Sebastian. You eased yourself onto the cool sheets, allowing your legs to fall open invitingly as Sebastian rolled over you.

He sat on his knees just on top of you, taking in the sight of your beautiful and vulnerable position beneath him. He noticed your legs trembling -obviously, right?- so he took them up to his shoulders and kissed them from your feet all the way to your knees. At the same time, Ominis' hands danced across Sebastian's body, fingertips eagerly exploring every contour and curve of his chest as if trying to memorize its exact topography. Going behind him, he leaned in close to Sebastian, pressing fevered kisses along his back, causing him to arch into the sensation. The arousal coursing through him manifested itself in his throbbing erection, leaking in anticipation.

You were there too, grinding your hips up against Sallow, inviting him. You watched, your breath hitching, as he dragged his spit-slick fingers down to your pussy, the coldness of it making you gasp as he circled your clit. 

Ominis’ hands slid lower, gripping Sebastian’s ass as he pushed himself between the man’s thighs. Sebastian groaned, his forehead falling into yours as Ominis pressed his erection against him, teasing the rim of his ass with his cock. You could see the way Sebastian’s body trembled, caught between the pleasure of your heat below and the promise of Ominis’ intrusion behind.

You positioned Sebastian’s cock at your entrance, just before Ominis pushed into him, slow but firm, making Sebastian gasp, his muscles tightening around the invading length.

“Fuck, ah” Sebastian moaned, the word rough and broken, like it had been dragged out of him.

Your hands roamed his body, feeling his muscles tense and relax as Ominis fucked him from behind. Sebastian’s hips rocked forward, his cock parting your folds, and making you whine in pleasure as you could feel, and see, both of them. 

Ominis controlled you both, and he knew it. He leaned over Sebastian, his breath hot against the man’s ear as he whispered:

“You’ve been waiting for this moment, haven’t you? And look at her—look how she’s taking you. Look how you’re fucking her.”

Sebastian’s hazel eyes locked onto yours, glassy with pleasure, his lips parted as he panted. You could see the desperation in his gaze, the way his body trembled as Ominis fucked him harder, deeper, his thrusts sending Sebastian’s cock slamming into your pussy with a wet, obscene slap. You reached up, your nails digging into his shoulder blades as you rode the wave of pleasure that was threatening to consume you.

“Tell me how good I’m making you feel” Ominis commanded. 

“ Fucking g-good” Sebastian cried. 

And then you realized—he wasn’t just talking to Sebastian. He was talking to you. You opened your mouth to speak, but all that came out was a moan, a high, keening sound that was drowned out by the wet slap of skin on skin.

“Tell me” he insisted

“So good,” you moaned, your voice trembling as Sebastian’s cock hit that spot inside you that made your vision blur. “So fucking good—fuck—”

“That’s it,” he purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Take it all.”

And you did. You took everything they gave you, your body writhing as pleasure built in your core like a storm. You could feel Sebastian’s cock twitching inside you.

The mattress creaked under you three, the bedframe was pounding the wall almost as hard as Ominis was pounding both of you. Your lips locked onto Sebastian’s in a messy, desperate kiss that left your mouths slick with spit. His hands clawed at the bedframe, his knuckles white as he tried to hold on, but his arms trembled like he was about to collapse from the sheer intensity of it.

As you came with a scream, your core clenched around him. Right after you, Sebastian came hard, his cock pulsing inside you as he filled you up with his hot, sticky cum. Ominis too—he buried himself to the hilt in Sebastian’s ass, his cock twitching as he emptied himself deep inside.

The room was a fucking mess— Sebastian collapsed onto the bed beside you, his chest heaving as he stared up at the ceiling, a lazy smile spreading across his face. His dark hair was a mess, sticking to his forehead, his lips were swollen.

“Fuck,” you muttered, noticing your thighs were still trembling “I think I just saw Merlin.”

Ominis chuckled. He joined you both and leaned back against the headboard, his chest rising and falling as he traced a finger down your side, his touch sending shivers through your oversensitive skin.

“You’re welcome,” he said, his voice low and dripping with smug arrogance.

Sebastian reached out as well, his fingers brushing against your stomach, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. “You okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, almost tender. “We didn’t break you, did we?”

Oh, but you were broken—shattered into a thousand little pieces, your body a wreck of pleasure and exhaustion, your pussy still throbbing, your skin sticky, but you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so... satisfied.

“I’m more than fine,” you managed to rasp. “Don’t worry.”

Ominis, the gentle lover he was despite the filth he’d just unleashed on your body, leaned in to press soft kisses on the curve of your neck, his lips lingering against the pulse point that still fluttered wildly. Sebastian followed, nibbling at your shoulder, his teeth grazing the skin just enough to make you shiver. The three of you lay there, enveloped in the afterglow of your masterpiece of depravity.

👉 Are there any grammar mistakes? Probably. Will I fix them? No. Thank you 😃 Happy HL Anniversary & early Valentines Day! ✨🫰

[acid-ixx]

brutus: just a burning memory (villain au concept)

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

— masterlist !

a/n: just a tiny excerpt i want to post regarding this because i want more conner kent content but make it angst after i posted smth spicy HAHAH. guys plsplspls i encourage all the comments. hell, even a single one inspired me to write this little drabble. i may not reply to all of them, but i read and cherish them with all my heart 🩷 i've been writing more these days and it's interactions and comments that drive me to write even more for this fandom so please, i'm on my knees.

tags: @sweetconnoisseurgardener, @winter-world, @bunbunbread, @thypplover.

"sweetheart— you're..." his voice, unsure and wispy, comes out in little quivers. wide, blue eyes stare at the silhouette of your all-too familiar, yet foreign body.

how could he not remember you, when it is only your the thrum of heartbeats that he cherishes in his memories? the shape of your hips in his hands? the puff of your cheeks he burned into his retina every time he blinks?

yet now you're too stiff, too sharp and out of place, a hint of expertise on your pose, as if it's ready to fight him, conner, your once beloved.

what happened...?

there was no softness in the shape of your shadow, no hands that fight the urge to run to him just to feel the warmth of his body, no yielding gazes fluttering up nor your nuzzled head rested on his chest.

the scar of your sudden break-up burns into his flesh the more he witnesses you come out of the shadow of the walls you're disguised in.

too different, too familiar, the seams of his poorly stitched heart rip once he sees you, once angelic now looking like you've fallen from grace, still so beautiful, still so poised yet poisonous— if he couldn't handle losing you back then, then he couldn't handle your reunion now.

he couldn't, no, not ever. he could never handle just how truly beautiful his soulmate is.

and right in front of him stands you... and he falls in love all over and over again, yet feels the fresh sting of heartbreak from all these years ago.

conner couldn't believe what was in front of him.

"what? i'm alive? changed? somethin' else? don't be so afraid to tell me, kon-baby." a new accent, from a different city, spoken in that alluring voice of yours, too gritty and sharp as a knife. cold, unforgiving eyes stare up at him like he was in enemy lines. there was no sentiment in your glare, no softness nor familiarity in your words.

it chips away at his heart, little by little.

there weren't enough words to describe how much he missed you, the way your sullen tone lightens at his presence, how you perfectly fit like a puzzle piece in his arms, your head burrowing into his neck and smelling his perfume. you say it's the only scent that calmed you down, that made your heart flutter 'cause it reminds you of him, it made his heart buzz at the sweet words.

ever since then, kon always made sure to wear that treasured perfume every single day after your confession, even after your disappearance did the use of that scent surge into his apartment, invading his sensitive nostrils like the plague. the fear of forgetting you, the memories of your precious giggles and calm intakes of air with him echoing all day in his solitude without you.

he misses those soft moments.

but this? whoever this is standing face to face with him is not you, the sharp sting of your words sound completely foreign, your laughter, once fluttery, now sounds manic as if your past affection for him was you merely telling a joke. the nickname you called him, his nickname that you oh-so fondly call him tastes bitter in his tongue.

unbelievable... there's something different about you, it's not the same you he's looking at anymore. he takes away his sunglasses hanging just below his nose, yet the image doesn't change.

you don't change into your old self, his heart breaks just a bit more.

yet he couldn't find the heart to attack you, standing frozen in his spot to take in your still-so ethereal form in his eyes, afraid that you'll disappear again; despite tim's warning signals on the new face of a villain.

he couldn't, because it's still you he's looking at.

you're still his sweetheart.

even if you don't share the same feathery whispers your voice had all those years ago. it's sharper, it stings conner's ears hearing the parched grate of your words, but his hearing still picks up the familiar innocence hidden behind it all; stained by the putrid world, corrupted until what's left was evil that he was so accustomed to dealing with.

he doesn't know what hurts more: your dead eyes losing its once angelic light, or how the same eyes stares at him like there was no romance that sparked between the narratives of your lives in the first place.

"... oh, (name)-sweetie, please tell me what happened...?" it hurts to talk, he had thought those therapy sessions with his other teammates could help him rebound with the break-up, but years of anguish don't heal, it builds up and it breaks at the slightest reminder of the past. it'll hurt either way, nothing helps.

nobody could truly control your true feelings. not even yourself.

losing his first, his one and only true love, that made him feel like he's deserving of existing in this world, that united the scars of being human and kryptonian; never knowing which side you're bound to be— calling him by his name, so sweetly and lovingly, the flutter of your voice curing all ails, feeling like the soft breeze of spring kissing his skin.

the sudden withdrawal of it all, the emptiness and befuddling emotions that comes after, losing someone who held the lock and key to your heart, whilst no answers are supplied in your thoughts from all the mind-numbing questions swirling inside your head—

it could break anyone, and it had broken conner.

conner just couldn't bury the tightening knot on his chest, how his throat seems to close in on itself, or the tears that began stinging the corners of his eyes.

"well you said it yourself, baby. people change, time changes and nothin' ever stays the same."

you speak as if your words are absolute, you don't even bother pretending to be happy at your reunion, you don't see conner as your beloved anymore.

"this is... this shouldn't be..."

happening? or was there a clawing notion in his heart that hoped with even your eventual change, that you'll still cherish him with all your soul despite the transformation, despite turning into a wanted criminal from across the nation?

because he could've understood, the neglect from your family, the emotional and even physical abuse, the misunderstood arguments and unheard requests. in all your special occasions, your birthdays, hell, even graduations and important milestones in your life, you're mistreated and broken. conner understood what it's like being rejected by the people you idolize, it's what made him notice you in the first place.

he could've helped hide you in a more safer threshold so nobody could hurt you anymore. all he really wanted was to be your sole exception to the corruption in your heart.

after all, he's still a man in love, bound by the precious memories and the neverending affection he feels for you, his soulmate. nothing in the world can change his dedication to see you smile, no matter how crooked and sadistic it is now— he was charged by your presence alone; you are, and always will be his motivation.

but you don't cherish him, you're different in a way that treats him differently too. and he doesn't want that, he doesn't want to be denied your love that he seeks in this cruel world. you're the only person in this universe that could topple the walls in his heart.

conner doesn't want to stand in his spot, looking at you any longer. at your cruel, yet beautifully glowing eyes and your body that he wishes to rest his clammy fingers on. he wants to kiss you, he wants to touch and feel you personally, forget all the mishaps you both went through just to spend another night alone together under the moonlight, dancing with the breeze of gotham's polluted and singing to the shouts of its citizens...

now all the questions form into a singular entity. it's what shatters his heart to pieces in the end, because you refuse to answer still. you refuse with a sadistic smile and a harsh laugh, going off in a tangent he couldn't understand; he wishes to understand with what's going on in your brain.

conner just wants to understand you, even if you're different now, because he still loves you.

so what happened to you...?

who took away conner's precious sweetheart?

[endearng]

Harmless

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: A seemingly innocent cab drive turns into torture once you decide to go along with the driver's assumptions.

WC: 600-ish

A/N: blurb to check if I still got it. It gets suggestive at the ending. Enjoy r flustering Spence <33

| Masterlist

Spencer knows you're playful. At any given time, you tell white lies with the most serious expressions on your face just to mislead the ones listening to them. Unbeknownst to you, he finds it endearing. Today, you are wearing a much too big raincoat to shield you from the thin droplets of rain that fall from the sky. “I think we should probably get a cab,” you say, giggling, as the rain becomes stronger.

“Yeah, I think so too.”

He quickly hails a cab, opening the door for you and getting your wet raincoat as you settle in the backseat of the car. He folds it and shakes it as much as he can to get rid of the excess water. Folding it neatly and placing it over his lap, you mutter, “Gimme that, it'll soak your pants.”

Silently, he refused to give it to you when he saw your hands reach for the yellow material.

The cab driver, an elderly lady, grins fondly at the two of you interacting. Stopping at a red sign, she can't help but think out loud, remembering her own lover. “You two make a beautiful couple.”

Spencer freezes, cheeks burning red with embarrassment as he looks at you, searching for an acceptable reaction. His instincts were telling him to thank the older woman and he does so, shyly, feeling his heart skip a bit. Upon hearing his responde, a twinkle of mischief takes over your eyes. “Thanks, ma'am. We really do, don't we?”

Oh, my God. Here it comes.

The old lady gives you two a loving glance through the rear-view mirror, agreeing wholeheartedly. “You do.”

“I always say he'd give me pretty babies too.”

Spencer turns to you, baffled. Widened eyes petrify as they catch the underlying teasing in your expression, brain short-circuiting as he tries to process what the hell did you just say. He can't believe that, out of all the harmless lies you've told, you had to go with what the woman said, not batting an eye to deny it.

(He tries not to feed the image conjured in his mind as you say the words pretty babies. He really, really tries.)

He looks at the driver, who has an amused smirk on her face. Spencer shoots you a look, trying to disguise his flustered state with what he hopes it's a glare. Silently, but half-heartedly, begging you to not encourage the lady’s comments.

“We… we aren't…” The words die on his tongue, too shaken by the sparkle in your eye.

“He always says we aren't ready for it yet.” You complete, rolling your eyes, stifling a giggle. He lets out a breath.

There is now a traffic jam outside as the rain turns more careless drivers into safer ones. Therefore, Spencer busies himself into trying to control his own breathing, glad for the silence, albeit awkward (for him), that settles over the small space. The cab drive is tortuously slow, and he keeps digging himself a deeper hole as he indulges in the fantasy and imagines himself with a life by your side.

When you two reach your destination, he pays the lady, even though he can't meet her eyes. “You have to stop telling lies,” he mutters, mortified, as you almost double down in laughter once she drives away.

“Come on. That… that was pretty funny.” You say as your laughter dies down.

He swallows, still gripping the wet raincoat tightly over his lap, walking side by side with you. “You and me as a couple?”

You shake your head. “Your reaction.”

“Why?”

“If you're this flustered by my harmless lies…”

“There was nothing harmless about that.”

Cheekily, you respond, "Then practice should be fun.”

Silence.

Oh.

OH.

“What?!”

[acciojaeyun]

let me hold you close | p.sh.

PAIRING. rich!sunghoon x fem!reader

SUMMARY. you and sunghoon are both off-limits. you're still living with your ex, and he's off to get married to someone that has been arranged for his family business. but that doesn't stop you both from trudging boundaries when it's just you and him in your own world.

CONTENTS. smut, some angst, some fluff. LOTS OF JEALOUSY. smut with plot. not beta-read. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

WARNINGS. lots and lots of jealousy. sunghoon is DOWN-BAD for reader, but the feeling’s mutual. indirect cheating (but not really???). semi-public sex, dom!sunghoon, bratty reader. somewhat mean hoonie. oral (both f and m receiving), p in v, unprotected sexual act (use protection at all times), temperature play, sensory deprivation, slight bondage (just tying up), sir kink (oh yeah baby), spitting kink. use of pet names (wiee). THREE SEX SCENES. (seldom mentions of hyung line: heeseung, jay, and jake) IDK I WROTE THIS BEFORE I COULD FULLY WRITE EVERYTHING.

WORD COUNT. 4.7k

AUTHOR'S NOTE. FINALLY IT'S HERE. belated happy birthday, my hoonhoon! this is my hoon birthday gift for y'all. hope you like it! (did i write two sunghoon smuts already? yes, yes i did.) also, wait for further updates, i might be updating anyone from the hyung line soon! wink wink.

MY LIBRARY. REQUESTS ARE OPEN! TO BE ADDED TO MY TAGLIST, YOU CAN SEND ME A MESSAGE.

There was something about him.

Park Sunghoon was the image of something so mysterious – yet, so captivating. His eyes held something deeper than what he tries to convey. You tried to hard to look away, but his actions, his stance – they command attention.

So much, that they commanded yours.

He has been a constant, a regular at the bar that you're working in every weekend to make ends meet. He was the hot bachelor that belonged in the upper VIPs that usually had a secluded room where they could share small talk over top shelf drinks.

Your first encounter with Park Sunghoon was when Byeol called in sick, and that meant you took over her shift as the personal-hired entertainer at Room 130.

"Please, Y/N," Byeol pleaded through the phone, coughing as her voice scratched against her throat, "if I could, I would. I'll take over your shift for the next week. You'll have my pay for tonight."

Now, additional income is something that is very difficult to shake off, no matter how it takes a night that consists of Neoguri noodles off of your schedule.

You wore your signature red cocktail dress, one that hugs all your right proportions beautifully, but not too tight, with a slit that doesn't go too up high on your thigh. Matched with a wave that's swept to the side, it is a no-brainer that the four men of Room 130 didn't even ask where their usual entertainer, Byeol, is.

"What a pretty face," Jake comments as he takes a sip of his armagnac, his eyes travelled down to your legs, but went back to your face, "nice voice, too." He adds.

Sunghoon was late, muttering an excuse that was along the lines of: his mother made him stay for a supposed meet-up with someone.

"Mommy's still on it?" Heeseung jokes, grabbing some of the snacks on the table, shaking his hand to remove the residue of it before pouring it to his mouth.

Sunghoon sends a look over Heeseung's way, making the oldest boy chuckle, "Well, you have to follow mommy's orders, or else, you're gonna whine about how your daily allowance has been reduced to half."

The rest of the boys chuckled, alongside the girls that were in the room to hold them company. Sunghoon was not the most pleased, he knew that Heeseung is right. He has to find a lady or else he will be arranged to a wedding just to keep up his expenditures and his lifestyle.

"Who's the girl?" Jay asks as he places his hand on the small of the back of the lady that sat on his lap, his eyes on the girl that giggled as she kept on tracing the edge of Jay's jawline.

"I don't know," Sunghoon grunted, eager to down a shot that was already on the table, "all I know is I have to find a partner ASAP, or else, I'll be wed to someone I could care less about."

That was when his eyes landed on you, singing a song softly as you held your vintage microphone. His eyebrows perched up slightly, and he smiled to himself.

Now, it has been approximately the fifth consecutive week that Sunghoon had tried to talk to you, alone, on your supposed shift at the public part of the bar.

Sweeping past through sweaty bodies as well as people that are drunk off their minds, Sunghoon was determined to at least know you better. It only took one song and one damn dress to catch Sunghoon's attention.

Lucky for him, he had caught your attention, too.

The thing was, you had a boyfriend – well, a roommate, if you will. Since love was obviously out the window, and that you were trying to sustain each other's stay in your apartment that has its contract nearing its end by the end of December.

Well, another reason was that your then-boyfriend was still trying to win you back.

And while you're certain that you're over him and is keeping him at bay for benefits, he certainly was not, and it somehow was making you guilty that you're somehow leading him on even when it was Sunghoon's face that you think of whenever you press your bullet vibrator against your clit, leaving out broken, breathy moans that underestimated how much you think you're going to moan for Sunghoon if time permits you.

Which brings you to here, a never-ending cat and mouse game that you have established with Sunghoon, who clearly was so head-over-heels for you.

The ordeal was simple: you, one of the bar's beloved entertainers, would finish a song that you sing and dedicate for Sunghoon, but wander off with a smile as you try and find yourself a suitable man vying for your attention. It was effective for you to make him jealous and demand your attention on him for the next hours.

Sunghoon had never gone past the eating only the third base, and Sunghoon was more than willing to eat your pussy on hours end. And you were willing to let him go past that, if only you haven't seen the ring that adorned his left hand, snug tight around his ring finger.

It was a stark reminder of how he was not for you, just how you are starting to become his.

"You sing here often?"

"I do," You'd giggle to whoever this guy's name is, you really didn't know, nor even tried remembering. You were sure it wasn't his name that you'll be screaming in the bathroom stalls of the bar.

"I should bo-"

"Then I'd want to book you, privately," Sunghoon cut the guy off, his voice reeking of jealousy and authority as he stood behind you, your back flushed against his chest.

"Ya," the boy raised his voice and poked Sunghoon's blue sweater tank top, "do you mind? We're talking here."

"And I'm talking to her, as well," Sunghoon responded, his eyes crinkling into amusement, "do you not want to talk to me, baby?" He pouts at you, nuzzling his chin to your neck as he leaves light kisses on it, making you gasp.

"I.." You trail off, biting your lip as your eyes moved back and forth between the guy and Sunghoon.

"I'm not wasting my time on this," the guy raised his hands in defeat, backing away, leaving you with the guy that you have tried to flirt indirectly through the night.

"Fancy seeing you here against sweaty bodies," You giggle as you turn around and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down teasingly to have his lips over yours, to which Sunghoon growled and pushed his lips on yours, immediately pushing his tongue inside your mouth as his hands dug on the curves of your waist.

"You drive me so fucking crazy," he whispers to your lips, in which you hum as a response. Not a long while after, you're being guided to one of the restrooms, his lips now attacking your neck to leave noticeable bruises that you're trying to cover up before you go to your morning shift at the local library of your town.

He pushes you to an empty restroom, not minding to lock it as he cages you in between his body and the sink. “Are you having fun?” He suddenly asks as he pools your dress up your hips and starts rubbing you through your wet panties, “Playing with me, are you having fun?”

You looked at him through lidded eyes and nod, “I do,” you say as you bite your lip, spreading your legs wide, “I like it when you’re so crazy for me.”

He grunts and kneels down, pulling your panties down as his nose is immediately wafted off by the smell of your arousal spreading throughout your core, “So wet for me, the guy did that to you?” He spoke as his thumb pressed on your bare clit, making you shudder.

“N-no,” you squeaked out, holding on the sink behind you, “it has always been you.”

“Always been me?” Sunghoon chuckles as he blows air to your sensitive cunt, “I don’t know, babe, I’m starting not to believe it given how many times I’ve practically pulled you off against men who are thirsting over you.”

Not leaving you any moment to respond, Sunghoon attaches his lips to your sensitive nub, moaning at your familiar taste that he had been obsessed with.

Moaning his name, you immediately hold on his hair, tightening your grip on his soft, brown-black hair, to which Sunghoon tuts as he pulls away, his thumb replacing his lips as he presses and rubs circles on your clit, “You don’t get to touch me, princess.”

Grasping your wrist, Sunghoon had practically forced your hand off his hair, placing it on the sink behind you to continue his ministrations on your pussy.

“Love this pussy so much,” he breathes out, poking his tongue out to fuck your hole with, “so pretty, could get in this forever.”

You moaned in response, desperate to cum just by Sunghoon’s fingers alone. Instinctively, your hands went to play with your breasts, pulling your dress straps down to pool on your arms, you bit your lip as you pinched and flicked your nipples, mimicking the way Sunghoon does it when he was mouthing your tits instead of your pussy.

Sunghoon looked up at you and smirked, sneaking in a hand between your legs to spread your labia apart, forcing his tongue deeper into you as he shook his head sideways, nose prodding against your clit, mouth leaving out noises, making sure that anyone could walk in the unlocked restroom and catch you both in such sinful act.

With buckled knees, you started to grind on his tongue, your mind dancing on the quick release that you felt was bubbling at the pits of your stomach, “Y-you eat pussy so fucking good.”

“That’s where I’m best at, babe,” Sunghoon winks at you, pushing his middle finger inside you after tracing your hole with it, “and can you blame me? Your pussy tastes like heaven.”

“O-oh!” You squeaked out, feeling your orgasm could come if Sunghoon continued this. And as if Sunghoon knows how to push your buttons, he adds a second finger, then a third, his tongue now dancing on your clit as he panted against your core.

“Fuck - shit, Sunghoon!” You exclaim as you push his face to your core, panting as you whine, eyes screwed shut with your other arm failing to hold on the counter, regardless of how dry the sink it may be, body convulsing as you cum on Sunghoon’s face.

Sunghoon happily licked through your folds, slurping your cum messily and noisily. He stood up with your cum glistening on his lips, his mouth sporting the smuggest grin that made you want to kiss his face silly.

“Damn,” you breathed out, leaning toward his chest to ground yourself.

“We’re not done yet.”

Needless to say, Sunghoon made sure that you could cum thrice from his fingers and mouth alone.

The following week, you were in the same position — however, instead of your hand holding on the sink, it was Sunghoon’s, with his other hand fisting your hair as he holds you still while he fucks your mouth to prove a point.

“So f-fucking warm,” Sunghoon grunted, his balls trodding against your chin as he kept on cursing, too lost in the bliss of your mouth taking him tightly, mimicking a virgin pussy.

With blood almost drawn on his lips, Sunghoon lets out a guttural groan as he pushes you against his pelvis, his penis bullying its way on your throat as strings of warm cum painted your throat.

“Should get you jealous more often,” Sunghoon comments as he regains his breathing, “such a desperate slut you become once you start reminding me whose pussy my dick belongs to.”

Before you could respond, the tall boy pushes his lips against yours hungrily, tongue immediately poking inside to start a tongued kiss with you, cupping both of your cheeks, he made sure you aren’t going anywhere.

“Thighs,” you started, too overtaken by lust, but Sunghoon heard it, he held your face with one hand to force you to look at him, “Your thighs, Sunghoon, I want to-“

“Yeah? Wanna grind on it, pretty?”

You nod, anything that could have you feeling him against your throbbing core, “Please,” you pleaded, grabbing his wrist to make you suck on his ring-clad finger, “want it, so much.”

Sunghoon almost lets out an animalistic growl as he pulls you to one of the stalls. He reaches behind you to lock it before turning around and places the seat down, sitting on it before urging you to straddle him.

Pooling your dress over your lap, you did as you were instructed. Hanging both arms around his neck, you stood up to pull your panties down, the slight string of arousal visible from the cloth.

On the other hand, Sunghoon already had his pants and boxers discarded, his angry cock lay erect against his stomach. You licked your lips and straddled him again, your legs on either side of his thighs, thigh-grinding long forgotten.

Both of you hissed as your pussy made contact with his dick, and soon enough, you were both a grinding mess, your grinds interrupted by humps as you groped your tits, your head thrown back as you continue to moan Sunghoon’s name.

“Yeah, moan that n-name, he’s y-yours, isn’t he?” Sunghoon hissed, his hair all over his face before leaning down to suck on your free boob that has been exposed from the tubing of the dress that was pulled down by you prior.

“Mhm, he’s mine!” You squealed as you hit your high just in the same time as the pale boy you’re sat on.

“Fuck,” you chuckled.

“Damn,” Sunghoon said breathlessly before kissing your lips and leaning his forehead against yours.

It was the first time he kissed you on the forehead after hooking up.

Last, last week’s hookup session with Sunghoon has all become you’ve ever thought about as you placed the books on the shelves, pausing every now and then as you daydream of it.

It has been two weeks since Sunghoon had shown up in the bar that you’re working at every weekends.

And while you hoped that he could at least sweep in to wave or send a smile your way. But Friday had gone, so has Saturday, even Sunday - no signs of Sunghoon.

His absence seemed to gnaw on you as you started to search for him during weekdays at your off-duties, but none. No sign of Sunghoon.

And you can’t even text him, since he hadn’t given his number, and you didn’t, too.

You’ve found his Instagram page, but it has never been updated apart from the photo of a golf course which he had posted four days ago. Stories didn’t also help, as he never updates his stories. DMs are off, and the only way to contact him was through e-mail.

E-mailing him had crossed your mind the moment it reached Thursday, you were so close to losing your mind that you didn’t even care whether or not to message him through his work e-mail, regardless of the possibility that anyone within the network could see it.

“That’s too much of a thought,” said a voice that startled you. Turning around, you saw the infamous Sunghoon leant agains the bookshelves, arms crossed, mouth adorning a soft smirk that you’ve grown to love.

“Please, I bet you’re thinking I’m thinking of you,” you snorted as you continued sorting the books, eyes not meeting his as his gaze challenged you.

“Well, I don’t even have to bet. I know you’re thinking of me whether you admit it or not,” Sunghoon countered.

“What an ego,” you muttered as you rolled your eyes, disappointed by his sudden absence for two weeks, even without giving you a notice as to why.

“Where are you off to, tonight?” He asked out of nowhere.

“Home, as usual.”

“My place?”

“No, what do you mean?”

“You said you were going home?”

“Since when had your place been my home?”

“Are you willing for it to be?”

“Sunghoon, what?” You furrowed your eyebrows at him, looking at him as if he had three heads in one body.

“I’m serious, stay with me.”

“Sunghoon—“

“I don’t take no for an answer.”

“Sunghoon!”

“What a noisy librarian do I have here,” Sunghoon smirked, “I like it when you’re noisy though.”

With an exasperated sigh, you pulled Sunghoon at the back of the library, “What are you doing, Park Sunghoon?”

“Full name? Ouch,” he placed a hand on his heart.

“Sunghoon,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Let’s go home,” he said instead of answering your questions, pulling you by your arm to the direction of his car that has been parked in front of the library.

Now, it was supposed to be just a talk. A negotiation between you and Sunghoon to finally end whatever it was between you both, both your heart and mind exasperated by the uncertainty that was brought about by you and him.

But here you are, biting your lip as Sunghoon kissed you on your neck, alternating between kissing, licking, and sucking, as he kept your hips pinned down by the grip of his hands on it.

“Stop moving,” he demanded, looking at you with such fire in his eyes whenever you bucked your hips up onto him.

“Need you,” you whined out, desperate to grind on him again, this time, you were hoping that it would last long and be much more comfortable than the last time that you did in the stalls.

“I know, sweetie,” Sunghoon smirked before sitting up to grab his black necktie which he had on his nightstand, “This okay?” He asked as he raised the necktie before you, insinuating a plan that he had in mind.

With a nod and a verbal agreement, Sunghoon wrapped the blindfold around your head before pulling away to see you in your totality: laid back, eyes covered by the velvet cloth of his necktie, and naked — all just for him.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” Sunghoon comments as he grabbed the cloth ropes that dangled on the edge of the headrest, grabbing it with a smirk, he hoists your arms up, making you gasp, as he tied it to the to the headboard.

He tested whether the knot was tight or just right, before peering down at you and cupping your cheeks as he leaned down to kiss on you.

Adjusting his body, Sunghoon left a trail of kisses from four face down to your nipple, before swirling his tongue around your sensitive nub. Pulling back, he grabbed the cold glass of champagne that sat on the trolley by his bed. Grabbing a small ice cube from the bucket of the bottle, he circled the ice around your nipple, earning a gasp from you.

"Cold, isn't it?" He questioned before leaning down again to give your other breast attention, and after a while, he switched places, giving you the same amount of pleasure from the cold and his warm mouth alone.

He trailed the melting ice cube down your body, making you shiver at how the cold trail was instantly replaced by his warm lips as he kissed you along the wet path of the melted ice cube.

"You and your pretty body," he whispers before grabbing another ice cube again, this time, he placed it on his tongue, letting the cold replace the warmth of his tongue.

Peering down between your legs, he crawled down until he was face near your core, making you sigh in anticipation, it was moments like this that you craved for Sunghoon to speed up his actions. It was no lie that Sunghoon ate pussy pretty good, and sometimes, you think, how good could he be when he finally has his dick inside you?

Sunghoon pokes his cold tongue against your hole, making you squeal as your legs thrashed up in surprise. He grinned as he gave kitten licks to your core, his hands pushing your legs far apart before diving into your cunt.

Moans and groans and the occasional noise from Sunghoon's licking on your core were all that could be heard in his bedroom. He kept his eyes on you, basking in your reactions before he inserted his middle and ring finger inside you, contrasting the coldness of his tongue.

"Fuck! I love your m-mouth," you whimpered out, wriggling from the overwhelming feeling that only Sunghoon had managed to get out from you.

"Always f-fucking my pussy with that m-mouth so, g-good - Sunghoon!" you exclaimed as you came on his mouth without warning, Sunghoon humming as he licked through your folds, mimicking the noise of that a happy man.

He straightened up and freed his aching cock from the restraints of his trousers and boxers, hissing as his dick slapped against his stomach before hovering over you again to tip your chin up for a messy kiss.

Sunghoon licked into your mouth before prodding it open so he could spit into it, "Swallow," was all he said before you closed your mouth and opened it in front of him to show him that you did what was told.

The boy groans as he places his dick in between your folds, setting his pace as he starts from something that's agonizingly slow, drawing out a pained whimper from you.

"Hoonie, want your cock."

"Yeah?" he breathed out, picking up his pace, "you already have it been your legs, pretty."

"No," you shook your head, "want it."

"Want it, where?" he starts to slow down without much thought as he dawns realization to what you said.

"Cock, Hoonie, w-want it inside me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, fuck! Please, hurry!" you pleaded, hands pulling against your restraints, "Want it inside me, Hoonie, please!"

"Condoms?"

"No, raw."

"Baby–"

"Please!"

One beg from you and Sunghoon's heartbeat has already picked up. Before you both even started seeing each other to hook up, you have already established that the farthest you could go with each other is oral. Other than that is off the table, as you have said, you both are completely off-limits.

Sunghoon's chest warmed at the thought of you warming up to him, "Okay, baby," he breathed out, "are you sure?"

"I am," you whined.

He leaned over and removed your blindfold and restraints, letting you adjust before pushing his lips on yours, "Thank you, thank you," he muttered in between kisses as he pulls himself away, prodding the tip of his dick on your throbbing hole.

"I gotta say," Sunghoon chuckled as he pushes his tip inside you slowly, earning a delicious moan from you both, "you're so goddamn pretty, more exceptionally so when I'm inside you."

Sunghoon has a way with words, that's one thing that you made yourself known. That was something about him that you think was what sealed the deal – he fed into your need for constant assurance, even though there were limitations between you both.

"Push it all in," you demanded.

Without another word, Sunghoon pushed himself inside, earning a throaty groan between you both.

"Shit, f-feel so g-good for me, oh, my god," Sunghoon breathed as he pushed his face into the crook of your neck, your arms immediately finding home around his torso.

Sunghoon picks up his pace as he continues on bullying his way inside you, relishing on how your pussy throbs around his dick. With every thrust that he lands inside you, your eyes roll at the back of your head, feeling the pulse of the veins of his dick with every drag.

"God, Sunghoon, I–" you cut yourself off with a groan by his ear, cradling his face as he placed light kisses on your shoulder, "Fuck, Sunghoon, so good!"

The boy pulled his face away, prying your mouth open as he spit into your mouth, his cock drilling inside you in the slowest, yet most delicious way. It was as if he was trying his best to memorize how your gummy walls enveloped his dick, in the hopes of making your pussy remember his.

And, to commit this into memory, Sunghoon removes the ring he had clad around his ring finger, reaching for your left hand that hung around your shoulder, and, in a lust-filled haze, he wore the finger around the nearest finger that was accessible to him, he'd fix that later.

Your eyes wandered to the ring that adorned your thumb, before biting your lip and looking at him. Sunghoon already adjusted himself, kneeling straight as he hikes your leg up and places it on his shoulder; and with a roll of his hips, both of you are already a whimpering, moaning mess.

"So f-full, fucking finally," you moaned out and Sunghoon reaches for your other hand to intertwine it with his, "Yeah? Been dreaming of it for so long, huh?"

Tapping your cheek he makes you look at him, "Been dreaming of this, t-too, baby," he says, panting, "been dreaming of d-doing more than just this, too,"

You looked at him with doe eyes, your lips dropping down to his lips, "Kiss me, Sunghoon."

Sunghoon nodded and kissed you, your hips bucking up to meet his thrusts, it was in that moment that only the two of you existed.

"You're squeezing me so f-fucking..." Sunghoon trailed, eyebrows drawn to each other in concentration, "..so fucking good for me, God, I love you."

His hands travelled down to your clit and rubbed circles around it, making you whimper and pull his face to yours, your lips wanting to get a taste of his again.

"Not gonna last l-long, princess," Sunghoon muttered in between grunts, "You close?" He said as he looked at you, searching your eyes for more than just your sign of being as near as he is.

You hum reaching your head up to peck his lips, "M-me too, Hoonie, dick is f-fucking me so g-good," your head attempting to throw back as his tip kept on hitting that sweet spot inside you.

"I love you," Sunghoon whispers as he lets go of your leg on his shoulder, pressing onto your body as he finally lets go of his cum inside you, your release following suit after he kept on thrusting even if he was coming undone inside you.

For a while, you both had stayed in that position, Sunghoon still deep inside you in between your legs, legs weakly wrapped around his body, both of your arms wrapped around his neck as you combed through his hair.

There was a heavy weight in the air, something that demands to be addressed.

Sunghoon lifts his head up, his chin rest against your chest. With a quick kiss on the valley of your breasts, he pulls the hand that had the ring wrapped around your thumb, he kisses your inner wrist, before, with lidded eyes, removing the ring and placing it instead to your ring finger, kissing your palm after a close inspection.

Sunghoon had never been so sure in his life, until now.

"I meant what I said," Sunghoon says quietly, his eyes now trained on your hand, eager to confess that it had always been you all along.

"Sunghoon, we can't.."

"Why?"

"You're going to get married,"

"I called it off."

You looked at him with a gasp, "What?"

"I said I found a partner, I always told you I'll always have you close, right?" he says as he sent you a soft smile, relishing in the hand that played with his hair.

"You're crazy," you chuckled.

"You make me go crazy over you," Sunghoon smiles with his eyes almost close.

"I love you, too, Sunghoon."

And when your eyes both meet, Sunghoon smiled softly, and that was when you both knew – it was where you both are supposed to be.

Sunghoon hums as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, this time, sure.

"Stay with me tonight," Sunghoon whispers.

"I'll stay tomorrow, too," you add.

"And on the days after that?" Sunghoon asks, his cheek pressed against your chest.

"And on the days after eternity."

© acciojaeyun, 2024.

DISCLAIMER. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE COPIED/REPOSTED ON HERE OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR PUT INTO ANY AI PROGRAMS. DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ.

[yazzwrites6962]

Redemption ♡ Suguru Niragi ♡ Part One

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Suguru Niragi x Fem!Reader ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Part Two: Here Author's Note: This is the first time I've ever written a fanfiction, and I'm sure it'll seem a little messy. I'm not sure where I'm going with this, or if I'll add more parts. I suppose it really depends on if people like it or not. I'm very new to Tumblr too, so please bear with me. I know this is pretty long and drawn out. I'm sorry! I do not own any characters/images!

Genre: Angst

Summary: Y/N has heard the warnings about Niragi since she first arrived at the Beach. After an awkward encounter, Niragi and Y/N are paired together for a game. Despite Niragi's cold and ruthless exterior, his demeanor shifts as he attempts to ensure their survival.

Word Count: 2235

Warnings: Blood, distress, death, language, OOC Niragi

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

There was just something about you. Something that led his glances towards you to last a few moments too long. Maybe it was the way you hugged yourself nervously, despite having been a member of the Beach for several months. You were always wary of your surroundings, but never rude. Never off-putting. You had a warm smile and a gentle demeanor. How could such a delicate thing survive so long in this twisted world?

He'd had his way with plenty of innocent women. Many weak women, who only made him feel that much stronger. Yet, he only needed one night with them before his interest was gone. He couldn't bring himself to approach you. Not you. Any other woman, he could destroy them. He could defile them without a second thought. A sinking feeling weighed his chest when he thought of doing something so cruel to you. You were untouchable.

Yet, there he was, roaming the poolside, gun slung over his shoulder. Drunken partygoers danced and shouted around him. Even surrounded by chaos, his eyes glued to you. You, and your classy black bikini which was covered by a cardigan. You and your arms folded as you smiled and carried a conversation with Kuina.

You had heard the warnings about Niragi. You had had been made very aware of his cruel treatment towards nearly everyone one the Beach. Many called him unhinged: A psychopath. You made note to stay out of his way.

"Don't look now, but he's staring at you again." Kuina mumbled, her eyes locked on something behind you. You turn, and your eyes meet Niragi's. He looks away instantly, pretending to have not been peering in your direction to begin with. Kuina grabs your shoulders, forcing you to look back at her. "I said don't look now!" She giggles, shaking her head.

"Sorry!" You laugh as Kuina releases you. "Let him stare. I don't have any problem with it. Honestly, I have yet to have a single interaction with him." You shrug. It's true. Niragi tends discretely exit any room you enter or turn away when he sees you looking.

"Trust me, that's a good thing." Kuina sighs, almost pitying your naivety. "Although, he has seemed a little tamer as of late. I wonder what that bastard is planning.”

"Maybe he's not planning anything." You turn your head to look over your shoulder. Niragi is pacing the other end of the pool, his back turned to you. He looks over his shoulder for a moment, his eyes catching yours once again. For a split second, it almost seems that he's flustered. He scowls, turning to face away from you again. "He just seems so tense."

It's true, that Niragi's behavior has seemed to mellow since you joined the Beach. In front of you, he is on his best behavior. He himself can't understand why he changed, or why he suddenly feels sick when he looks at you. He would rather die than admit that part of him cares about how you perceive him.

Chishiya, seemingly out of nowhere, joins your conversation. You turn back, greeting the blonde. He returns the sentiment, before requesting that Kuina join him for something. You groan in disapproval. Kuina is the only real friend you've managed to make in your time here. With a quick apology, Kuina and Chishiya excuse themselves. You are left entirely alone to watch the rest of the Beach party.

From time to time, you glance at Niragi, who seems to be making rounds, pacing back and forth between both ends of the pool. His gaze stumbles to you on occasion, but you don't think much of it. Out of boredom and stupid confidence, you sigh and begin to approach him. It could help to make a new friend. Especially a friend that is a militant. You ignore all the warnings you've been given. An impulsive decision that would change your life.

"Hi." You say plainly, finally making your way to Niragi. For the first time, you can see his features up close. His face is decorated with silver piercings. His eyes are sharp, like a predator latched onto the sight of its' prey. His hair seems well maintained, shiny and brushed back out of his face. "I don't think we've met. I'm Y/N." You say, timidly, your confidence wavering slightly.

"...What do you want?" Niragi asks gruffly, continuing to walk. You walk beside him, having to pick up your pace to keep up. Niragi's steps are quick. Much quicker than a man on a leisurely walk. You wonder if he's trying to lose you in the crowd.

"Oh! I don't exactly want anything." You explain sheepishly, looking up at his expression. His face seems cold and unbothered. "I just hadn't introduced myself yet, and we always seem to end up in similar places. You're Niragi, right?"

"Yeah." He grumbles. This is not ideal. Can you see right through him? Can you see how nervous he is? He can feel the sweat beads rolling down his forehead.

"I was thinking-" You began, but he suddenly stopped walking, looking down at you. He glared at you, as if you were the most despicable person he had ever known.

"Don't think. I'm not your friend." His fingers shook as he gripped his gun so tightly that his knuckles were white. He couldn't stand being around you. Not out of hatred, but out of fear. He had never been afraid of someone the way he feared you. You made his heart race, and his stomach drop. You were the one person he didn't want to hurt, and he couldn't even give a good reason as to why.

Without another word, he walked away, leaving you speechless by the pool. Now you understood what others meant when they called him a douchebag. He was incredibly rude. You huffed, feeling defeated, before accepting this failure and returning to your room for the night.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

What were the odds that you would be put into a group with Niragi for your next game? You were piled into a cramped little car of six people including yourself, speeding down the road to a game arena. You were seated in the back, with two other girls who were making out viciously. Your discomfort was clear on your face. Niragi was seated in the passenger side, his gun resting between his legs. It brought you some comfort, knowing Niragi would be in the same game. He was definitely strong, and willing to do anything it took to win. You chose to see this as a good thing.

You pull up to a large office building. It's several stories tall, stretching up into the deep dark sky. You take a deep breath. The air is crisp and chilly. The dread of not knowing what was to come consumed your mind. You follow the rest of your group into the building, where there is a table of phones. Four have already been taken. This means, including your group, there are ten people in the game. Your steps echo in the empty building as you take a device, holding the black screen up to your face.

One minute and forty-seven seconds until registration closes. If your driver had gone any slower, you may not have made it to the game. Your visa expires today. The idea that death is always so close by sends a shiver down your spine.

With a chime, registration was closed. Your legs quivered as you mentally prepared yourself to hear the details of the game. A feminine robotic voice came on over the speakers. You hadn't noticed, but you were holding your breath.

Game: Tower of Echoes - Five of Clubs

Rules: You will each be paired with another player. Work with your partner to overcome obstacles. Each floor will present a unique challenge, combining physical skill, memory, and mental acuity. Incorrect answers will result in a penalty of deducted time. Once you have passed a floor, you may not return. In this game, your partner's fate is intertwined with your own. Should they die, so will you.

Clear Condition: Reach the rooftop of the tower before the time runs out

"Your partners will be assigned to your screen now." The voice says finally. You look down at your device. A slight relief washes over you when you see a grainy image of Niragi. Lifting your head to search for him, you're already met him his chest in front of you. He seems agitated as he speaks:

"You'd better not slow me down."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Blood. The sound of blood splatter and screams echoed through the building. It was nauseating. Your head spun as you trembled, looking down at your leg. Your thigh was slashed open on level nine. There was no way of knowing how much blood you had lost now. Still, Niragi urged you to continue. With only nine minutes remaining, you wondered how many levels were still left to go. You'd lost count at level fourteen. It had already been two hours and fifty-one minutes. How much longer could you continue.

"Fuck, I said let's go!" Niragi growled, beckoning you to follow him. He had blood on him too. His forehead was busted, his shirt was torn, and there were cuts littering his arms. Where did he find the drive to keep going? You let out a shaky breath, desperately trying to follow, but you were simply so much slower. "For fuck's sake!" He growls, rushing towards you.

You feel his arms swoop beneath you as he lifts you up. He carries you as if you weigh nothing, hurrying to our next challenge. You feel guilt surging through your heart, and if you had enough blood left, you would've been blushing. You could hear his heart beating through his chest, and his labored breaths as the sound of his steps echoed up the steps. Finally, he set you down, facing another test. Nobody is on this floor, but you two.

There are three doors before you. A red one, a blue one, and a green one. Each has a different clue. On the red door are the words "The green door leads to certain death". On the blue, "The red door is the path to freedom". Finally, the green door says "This door is safe. Ignore the red door's warning".

"Shit." Niragi groans. This hardly felt like a clubs game now. Not with all the puzzles and obstacles. There are three minutes remaining on the clock. Time seems to be flying by too quickly. Niragi looks expectantly at you, as if you had some sort of answer. "Are you gonna be useful during this game or what?!"

"I... I don't know!" You begin to hyperventilate. Your life might be ending within the next five minutes. The pressure is overwhelming as the room spins. Niragi grabs your shoulders. He's far from the shy, rude, nervous character you had attempted to introduce yourself to several days prior. He looks at you with urgency, a look you'd never seen on him before.

"I need you to think." He says. His tone is demanding, yet smooth. "You're a smart girl, yeah? I've heard about what you can do in those diamond games. Now think. We're not going to die here."

You look back at the doors, your breathing slowing as you try to focus. There is one minute remaining. You have to be quick. Both the red and green door cast doubt at one another. The blue door points towards the red door, but is this a diversion? It feels as though this is a game of pure luck. As the seconds count down, you decide to take a chance.

"The blue door." You shout, your voice hoarse from all the strain and dehydration. Niragi looks at you skeptically, but nods, throwing your arm over his shoulder as he guides you to the blue door. "Dear god please let this be right." You whisper as Niragi clutches the handle of the door.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

A wave of fresh cold air hits your face as the door swings open. You're on the roof. You made it to the roof. You won. You turn to see another pair finally making it up the stairs to the last floor, but it's too late. The bright red lasers you have feared since the beginning come raining down into their skulls. Crimson blood splashes onto the walls as their bodies slump over, cascading down the steps.

You turn to look at Niragi, who's already looking down at you. How lucky it was, that you were paired with him. You felt safe, his strength holding you from putting too much pressure on your wounded leg. His expression screams of his protective feelings towards you. He seems relieved to be alive.

"Niragi." He says, his voice gruff as a smirk plays on his face. Maybe he can allow himself this simple pleasure of getting to know you. Of being in your presence.

"What?" You smile. Despite the horror of all you've experienced today, your gentle smile still sends flurries of butterflies to Niragi's stomach.

"Niragi. Nice to meet you, Y/N." He says, finally replying to the introduction you had tried to make not too long ago. Your name rolls off his tongue like a melody, as if it was meant to be there from the start.

[tyunni]

┈➤ I LIKE YOU SO MUCH!!! (when ENHYPEN like you...)

enhypen masterlist | library

genre: fluff, fluff, fluff! warnings: i'm not sure if any specific gender is mentioned but keep in mind i do tend to usually write fem!reader, enha r kinda losers, mentions of being drunk in jakes part, isnt proofread so if you see any mistakes.... oh well! wc: 2.6k+

a/n: good lord, i haven't written anything in MONTHS so i'm a bit rusty 😭 i started writing maknae line first im p sure you can tell i put more effort in them and then i started getting tired, sorry😭😭😭

☆ — LEE HEESEUNG

who would've thought the cool, the chill, the awesome lee heeseung would end up being such a loser. a lovestruck, foolishly in love loser.

your fingers lightly grazed his hand when you walked past him in the hallway today, a touch that lasted a mere second, yet heeseung's heart exploded, and so did his friends' group chat when he boasted about your interaction like you had just asked his hand in marriage. he knows being lovesick is lame, but so what?! he can't help that he melts into a pink puddle of adoration whenever you make small talk, or when he closes his eyes an image of you pops into his head and makes his palms feel sweaty. yes, he feels his knees go weak at the mere mention of your name, and he's willing to endure his younger friends teasing him every time they spot you hanging out with your own group of friends.

so what if you're the only thing on his mind every second of his day. it's completely normal to make playlists for your crush, giggle, and roll around in your bed when you let the lyrics sink in and fill your head with the thoughts of the one you desire.

it's also totally normal of him to write down little compliments on a piece of paper and put them on your desk when you're not looking. he giggles like a little girl when you open the note and read not even a third fraction of what heeseung truly thinks of you and wishes to tell you one day. his smile grows wider when you finally read the initials written on the note, LHS, and you look over to his desk with your cheeks dusted pink, widened eyes looking into heeseung's.

(rest of the members under the cut!!)

☆ — PARK JONGSEONG

jay is very fond of you, he accepted that quite quickly. you're cute. he likes cute stuff, that's something new he has discovered since he started to fancy you.

"jay, are you serious?" - riki turned towards the older with a blank face, tired of his friends new shopping addiction, - "you have like 4 hello kitty stuffed toys in your bedroom, you don't need another one."

ah, innocent, naive riki. he doesn't know having a crush makes one forget about any form of rationality and make every decision without giving it another thought. jay is the number one victim of the 'everything reminds me of them' disease, he feels every wrinkle of his brain smoothen whenever he thinks of you, so it's not a surprise that he can't control his hand as he swipes his credit card and buys himself another plushie with a lovestruck grin on his face.

"are you even listening to me?" - the younger complains, jabbing jay's arm with his elbow to get at least a little reaction out of him. if anything else but you were on jay's mind this would've worked and he would've scolded riki by now, talking his ear off about how annoying he is, clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes at his childishness. but it doesn't work.

"you're such a cheeseball, y/n has made you soft, jay, she's ruining you!"

but riki's words fall on deaf ears the second jay's eyes land on another cute stuffed animal that had reminded him of you as he grabs his friend's arm roughly and drags him into yet another store.

☆ — SIM JAEYUN

oh, he's down bad. jake would do anything for you. yes, even walking all the way from his house to the party you were at just to pick you up and walk you home, making sure you reach your house safely.

you called him in the middle of the night, the buzzing of his phone waking jake up. he groaned at the brightness of his screen flashing his newly opened eyes, yet at the sight of your name he rubbed the sleepiness off them, quickly picking up your call.

"jake, i'm drunk!"

and that's all it took for him to jump out of his bed and run towards his destination. surely enough you were waiting outside for him, a big smile growing on your face at the sight of him.

sure, he was extremely tired and out of breath, his voice was still groggy from waking up around 10 minutes ago, the cold, chilly night yet to have its effect on him and wake him up completely, yet he still let you ride on his back when you started complaining about how your heels hurt your feet.

you had been talking to him about something, even though you had no idea what you were saying with the way your words were slurred, your voice muffled by his jacket. jake was nodding his head, humming after a few sentences to make sure you knew he was listening, even though he didn't know what he was listening to. you started off by talking about the party, and somewhere along the way you got lost in your own words and so did jake. his soft hums and the steady rhythm of his feet lulled you to sleep, and when he felt your eyelashes close against the nape of his neck, your breath falling onto his skin as your cheek rested further upon his shoulder is when he finally let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head, stopping in his tracks to close his eyes and think to himself:

"fuck, i love her, don't i?"

☆ — PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon is desperately in love with you. he can't help it, butterflies swarm his stomach when he thinks about you, a sheepish grin makes its way onto his features when you talk to him, his eyes dart across your face every chance he gets so he can burn every second spent with you right into his memory.

"sunghoon, do you think this looks good or should i try on the blue sweater?"

to be completely honest, even if you wore a trash bag he'd think you looked gorgeous, and he hadn't been paying attention to any outfit you had shown him so far, your smile which grew wider with each compliment he gave you the only thing on his mind.

"you look beautiful, y/n."

"oh, come on, sunghoon! you've been telling me this about every outfit!" - you groan, yet a grin is still plastered on your face at his sweet words, "you have to help me!"

sunghoon tries, he really tries to hold himself back. his teeth sink into his tongue in hopes of biting back the words that were about to slip out, yet they still do. and so does his little secret.

"it's not my fault i'm in love with you!"

☆ — KIM SUNOO

sunoo is a sweet guy. everyone likes him: the teachers, the students, his friends, and complete strangers. his smile is contagious, his face is soft and beautiful, his eyes crinkle up when he smiles, and he's kind, helpful, friendly. who wouldn't like him? well, you, apparently.

it's not that he's intrigued by your cold attitude towards him, he's simply determined to make you like him just like everyone else. it's quite difficult to get to know you though, you don't speak to anyone except a select few. if your friends don't come to school you usually sit alone, either mindlessly scribbling in your notebook, or sleeping. you always have that look on your face. one of pure boredom, uninterest, that "why are you even talking to me" face.

sunoo thinks it's stupid. how could you not be thrilled to talk to the people around you? how is it even possible to not want to get to know everyone, to grow your circle, have new people to talk to and share experiences with.

you know who sunoo is. everyone knows who sunoo is. when he walks past you down the hallway he's always waving at someone, stopping in his tracks a few times to have a little small talk, then quickly picking up his pace once the bell rings so he gets to make it in time for class. it doesn't matter if he's late though, the teachers adore him like he's their own son, and he hasn't gotten a single second of detention. sunoo has the sunshine privilege. that's unfair. you don't like when things are unfair. you don't like the sunshine privilege. you don't like sunoo.

so you avoid him.

but he somehow still finds his way back to you.

"she totally hates you, dude, get over it," - sunghoon groans, shoving another loaf of bread into his mouth, and threatening to shove some into sunoo's mouth so he stops talking about you for the fifth time today.

"but why?! i didn't even do anything to her, i tried talking to her every single day since she moved here, i'm nice, i'm helpful, i'm a great guy, what am i doing wrong?!" - the younger boy whines into his palms, head buried in his hands, trying to come up with a way to win you over.

one of his other friends chimes into the conversation, taking a seat in between his friends and playfully wrapping his arm around sunoo, - "it's okay, man, there must be a way to get your little crush to like you!"

sunoo whips his head towards the boy, eyebrows furrowed so deeply that you'd think they'd merge into one another any second. - "heeseung, it's not a crush!"

sunghoon chuckles at his oblivious friend, - "is too!"

"... is it?"

you are kinda cute. your attitude, although not sunoo's style, makes you look even more adorable. you have pretty lips too, although you're always frowning. he thinks you'd look better with the corners of your lips turned upwards though. he wants to see you smile. he wants to make you smile. he wants to make you his.

☆ — YANG JUNGWON

jungwon thinks he's a pretty chill guy. he's always been levelheaded. most of the time he's the only levelheaded person in the room, to be completely honest. he knows what to say and when to say it. although he resembles a cat, the saying "cat got your tongue" had never applied to him. so why is he standing in front of you, his crush, ready to have his very first conversation with you, without a single word coming out of his mouth?

"oh, hey! jungwon, right?" - you ask, sending a soft smile his way.

you know his name. you know his name. you know his name.

"huh? yeah... i'm jungwon. um..." - his confident smile fades instantly when it really sinks in that he has no idea what to say to you. he always knows what to say, how could this happen to him?! this is ridiculous. if he weren't standing in front of you right now he'd slap himself in hopes of rattling his brain somehow.

your eyebrows furrow at the awkward silence taking over, - "do you need anything, jungwon?"

his name falls past your lips so gracefully that if hearing you say his name followed with the three words he wants to say to you the most means he must sell his every worldly possession, he will. but he can't tell you that. he can't tell you how pretty your eyes are either, he can't tell you that he wants to hold your hand, or wrap his arms around you and keep you in his warm embrace for a little while. or how he wants to bury his head in the crook of your neck and bask in your warmth, or that you're the most beautiful person he has ever laid his eyes on and it'd be an honor to take you out on a date. yeah, he definitely can't say that.

"you're the most beautiful person i've ever laid my eyes on, it'd be an honor to take you out on a date..."

it's over. he's a goner.

the way you twiddle with your fingers at his confession goes completely unnoticed despite his big round eyes growing wider at his own words. he's too far gone to see how a warm smile had made its way onto your face.

"sure, i'd love to!"

it's not over. in fact, it's just getting started.

☆ — NISHIMURA RIKI

riki is quite good at hiding his crush on you, considering how the overwhelming feelings have such a weight to them that he's sure his heart doubles at the mere mention of your name to make room for the intense emotions that'll start kicking in. you two aren't dating, although he wishes you were, and you're most definitely not best friends. he knows you, you know him, you think he's nice, he thinks about you every second of every day, y'know, the usual...

"riki, hey!" - you push through the crowd of students walking around a narrow hallway that could only be described as a jar filled to the brim with tiny little ants, very studious one's at that!

his friends' heads immediately turn your way. a girl, talking to riki?! although their eyes don't stay glued on you for too long, they quickly glance at riki. the sight was hilarious, his long fingers were brushing through his disheveled hair, free hand tugging at the hem of his hoodie to smoothen out any wrinkles. there's a soft tint of pink spread across his cheeks, nothing too noticeable, although the burning red glow of his ears was far from discreet.

"y/n, hey!" - he grins, the hand combing through his hair now scratching the nape of his neck to try and play it cool... very smooth! a muffled laugh escapes from one of his friend's shut lips as their orbs dart between the boy and you.

you reach into your pocket, rummaging through the various things you keep inside. crackling of your house keys and noises of crumpled-up paper can be heard before you take out something. riki's eyes try their best to tear away from your mesmerizing features so he can see what you're trying to show him with your arm stretched towards him and a big grin on your face. he notices a little something lying on your palm. it's a duck keychain. if you were any other person he'd look at the item in your hand with a disgusted look on his face, eyebrows knitted together, eyes squinting in pure horror. but you're you. you're the love of his life. that's probably why riki can feel his heart thumping against his ribcage, a stupid smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he tries his best to fight it off, yet the inevitable happens.

"take it, it's a gift! i saw it on the way to school and it reminded me of you!"

he quickly takes the keychain from your palm, ensuring his fingers stray as far away from yours as possible. even the slightest bit of physical contact and he feels his heart will explode for good. he mumbles out a thank you before you turn on your heels and walk away, completely oblivious that the butterflies in his stomach now make their way towards his throat, making him swallow dry.

"hey, riki, what's that?" - jungwon nudges him with his elbow, eyeing the item riki's holding between his fingers. a smile makes its way onto jungwon's lips as he glances up at his friend who's currently grinning from one red ear to another, rosy cheeks like pink buttons on a sweater made with love and care.

"i thought you hated ducks," - sunoo adds, sly hands reaching towards the keychain to try and pry it out of riki's hands, but instead the tall boy clutches harder onto the item, bringing it to his chest.

"well i like this one!" - he adds, furrowing his eyebrows and glaring at his nosy friend.

riki never knew he could like ducks this much.

©tyunni please don't copy, translate or repost any of my work!

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[viaviavie]

OPERATION CINDERELLA-SABOTAGE [OCTANIVELLE]

in which he rescues you from your very short-lived wedding.

SUMMARY: due to a massive misunderstanding, a prince from royal sword academy is set to wed you at sunset. thankfully, your un-princely crush is here to save the day and crash this lovely wedding.

PAIRINGS: everyone x fem reader (separately)

WARNINGS: they're being a bit dramatic, characters are 18+, gaslighting (jade), floyd carries you, possessiveness (floyd)

NOTES: this is echoes the ghost bride event, but listening to this prompted me to write out this scenario instead. i made this for shits and giggles, so have fun with this! (gosh i had sm fun writing jade and azul's--- probably the most creative pieces i've had this month!)

HEARTSLABYUL | SAVANACLAW | OCTANIVELLE | SCARABIA | POMEFIORE | IGNIHYDE | DIASOMNIA

There was no way you would be able to say 'no' now, not when there were hundreds of Royal Sword Academy students and even more members of a random royal family whose last names you cannot recall waiting outside that door. Aside from a completely oblivious Neige and Che'nya who was nowhere to be found, there was no one you could really ask for help to get you out of this mess.

You turn to your supposed betrothed with frantic eyes, shaking your head wildly. "I already told you, I'm not the one you danced with at the ball!" Your hisses fell on deaf ears. That damned prince from Royal Sword Academy was too busy making the 'goo-goo' eyes at you to even register what you were saying.

"I just happened to have the same shoe-size!"

Damn it, why did you have to agree to fitting some missing girl's shoe?!

Pierce Charmant, possibly the most delusional guy you have ever met in Twisted Wonderland, clung onto your calf with a stubborn expression. He had no intentions of letting you go, and neither did his five other guards that had blocked your way.

"You have to be her!"

"You don't even know my name!"

You were really counting on Grim to get someone, anyone, to stop this wedding. Yet, as you are walked down the aisle by the fair Neige, you are already planning out a divorce settlement plan. Based on the number of guests here, who had filled this entire venue from top to bottom, you would have guessed that this prince was rather rich. If it was to be an unhappy marriage, at least your wallet would be more than compensated.

You managed to convince this prince to send invitations to Night Raven College, but that didn't matter. He was so excited and in a hurry to marry, that your friends barely had any time to rescue you! There must have been so much traffic with the mirrors that they couldn't even use them! There was just no way that they'd make it in time now.

And so you consign yourself to readying some divorce papers within the next few weeks, and planning out how to avoid any more interactions with this guy while you were married.

You stood at the chapel's base, your expression exasperated than ever as you kept darting your gaze to the door. You've already tripped over the aisle a few times, fumbled the scripted vows, and even called for a bathroom break or two to stall.

And now comes the big moment that you were so desperately trying to avoid.

"Would you, Pierce Charmant, take the Ramshackle Dorm Prefect, as your lawfully wedded wife?"

The prince smiles so sickly sweet, and its the look of a man who won't change his mind.

"I do."

You grimace as the officiant faces you, just as blind to your annoyed expression.

"Would you, the Ramshackle Dorm Prefect, take Pierce Charmant as you lawfully wedded husband?" They didn't even use your name!

You pause, the image of your crush flashing before your eyes.

You would never see him again if you let yourself get married. Defiance returns to your face as you suck in a deep breath, ready to deal with the consequences of rejecting this delusional prince in front of hundreds of people.

"I—"

"I object!"

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

"Are you really really certain that the Prefect has feelings for me? This is not how I would have liked my confession to be presented, but I am always the opportunist. If the outcome is in my favor, I will uphold my promise to supply you with exemplary tuna for the following two weeks as discussed... Ha, this is quite the laborious tasks. Prefect, you will not be waiting for long."

Don't be so mistaken. Azul did go through the five stages of grief the moment Floyd came in nonchalantly mentioning your rather swift engagement to Prince Charmant. It didn't help that Jade confirmed this by turning on the television, shoving Magicam posts onto Azul's face, and delivering an updated newspaper with news of the upcoming wedding. He swore that you had found the love of your life that morning.

It had to take Grim spilling to him about your feelings to snap the poor octomer out of his spiraling thoughts. It was enough to boost his confidence into making a sound plan on how to retrieve you. After all, if this prince is truly not the one you fancy, then who is Azul to let the wedding happen without interference?

His plan is absolutely fool proof, and with a large audience of witnesses, he is mostly confident that he can secure your safety. Dressed in a fine suit, followed by several touch-ups to his appearance, he hastily makes his way to the cathedral in style.

Though, it would be worth mentioning that he does have a nervous breakdown over whether he made it in time or not.

It wasn't so much that you didn't expect Azul for some form of help, but rather, you anticipated that he would send the Leech twins to do his bidding. To see the tycoon-in-the-making himself, striding in without a hint of weakness, you couldn't help but gape like a fish out of water.

Your surprised expression only served to stroke his ego even more. "I am not the type to make such dramatic entrances, but this would have to do." Azul's signature smirk is plastered on his features as he makes a slight bow to your groom. It is nothing genuine, and you knew that very well.

"Pierce Charmant, prince. I come here to return your lovely bride back to Night Raven College, where she formally belongs." It's that false sense of security, that Azul uses to claim that he is on the prince's side. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, but found yourself turning away with a dreadful expression. Azul's haughty exterior never breaks as he continued to sell. "I fear that she is, perhaps, a bit too below your league. You see, you deserve someone of higher caliber." Rather, he thought that devaluing you may perhaps spare you from such a marriage.

"A magicless student without a background! Not to mention connected to several overblots that had occurred since her appearance at the college. On top of that, a long account of accumulated debt and unpaid fees for her tuition at the college. She would not be an asset at all!"

The pitch gets shot down as the prince shakes his head in an outright rejection. "I care not. The Prefect is the perfect candidate to rule alongside me. There is nothing you can sell to me that would make me reconsider my decision. It is final!"

"Not even a—!"

"Final!"

A hum of displeasure leaves Azul's throat as he reels himself back in. You watch him carefully, noting that the octomer hasn't even begun to sweat or spit out any more bargains to the prince. He has lost, but he doesn't seem too worried either.

It was almost as if he expected this outcome after all.

Sighing dramatically, Azul's eyes fluttered shut. "Very well, then." He drawled, a hand slipping into the inner pockets of his blazer. Your eyes catch the sight of an unfamiliar parchment, much unlike the golden standard sheets Azul had used for his contracts.

Azul trains his eyes onto you, promises reflected in that beautiful blue. "If it must be the last time we shall ever speak to each other— Allow me to bargain with you instead, Prefect."

From below, he reaches out towards you, outstretching his hand to offer you the parchment. Before Pierce could really swipe your hand away, you've already taken it upon yourself to read the contract's contents.

A CIVIL MARRIAGE CONTRACT AND REGISTRATION FORM?!

Needless to say, you were torn between being impressed by his wits or horrified by how absurd his proposition was.

"Azul!" You gasp, only to be met by his smug grin. Azul ran a hand through his silver locks, somewhat impressed with himself.

"Rather than marrying this prince, I shall provide you an alternate proposal for a husband." Posturing a hand to his chest, the octomer smiles at you. "Myself."

You clutch the contract close to your chest, looking at him for some sort of confirmation. His smile grows even wider. "I've already filled out your portion of the registration form to the best of my ability. It is sufficient, and all you have to do is sign your name."

"Azul!" You cry out once more in disbelief. Pierce could only scoff after taking a mere glance at the contract's fancy lettering.

"How absurd!"

Ignoring the prince, Azul swallows himself in an attempt to keep up his own farce. "Marrying a prince may seem overwhelming for a lady of your status, utterly magicless and without an experience to rule a country down to the smallest village." He drawled with faux concern, shaking his head in disapproval as the prince fumed at the sides.

"But look at me, prefect. I am an upcoming tycoon. Young, and not a terrible looker either. I am well-versed in the world of business and I certainly do have an endless list of connections. A prince is restrained by royal etiquette and duty, but I? The world is my oyster and you can partake."

Your jaw goes slack as Azul dares to take a step forward, summoning a feathered pen in hand. "Choose me, and you can find relief in knowing that you have a loving and charismatic husband who won't rush you into any tomfoolery of sorts. You will be well taken care of, and I will see to it that you will be satisfied."

He is certain that he is victorious, and you don't doubt that as well. Azul means well, at least, more than what this prince intends to do with you at the moment. Although, that is not to say some deals don't come with strings. The contract is clean, to your knowledge.

The silence had gone on too long for his liking. Biting onto his smile, Azul's eyebrow twitches. "You shall be entitled to 7% of my financial assets and investments as well." He offers through his teeth, hoping you would hurry up with your agreement. The octomer isn't sure for how long he can stay so confident for, in front of this crowd, in front of anyone watching this on live television.

With one more glance at the contract, you dare to carve a little hole in his carefully calculated plan. It isn't every day you get this opportunity to twist his contracts to your favor.

"Make it 20%," Amidst the scandalized gasps of the crowd, you do not miss the way Azul chokes on air. "Prefect, this is non-negotiable." He sputtered, attempting to regather his composure.

You hum in return, shrugging at him slightly with a cheeky grin. "Make it 18%, and I'd like a monthly supply of tuna for Grim."

The audience murmurs with speculation, all while you stare at the way Azul looks at you with such exasperation. He runs a hand through his hair once more, shaking his head to himself. "Greedy little thing, aren't you? This is not exactly the best time to bargain, but I suppose I was the one who taught you that bantering with pressure is a high-risk, high-reward strategy."

Azul sighed heavily, swiping the contract away from your hand to scribble onto it. "Very well, Prefect." He grumbled to himself before returning the paper to you, along with his ink pen.

"Sign it."

Before you could even do so, Pierce had snatched the pen from your fingers with a frightened expression. He knows that a contract would keep you from him, and even as a prince, he can't go against the fine print. "You can't be serious, Prefect! You're actually going to leave me to marry a swindler?!"

Irritation flashes across your expression, in the way you bare your teeth at the prince. It takes Azul by surprise, the way you clenched your free fist in anger.

"You can call Azul a swindler, but he's simply a businessman!" You hissed, easily taking back the pen. Pierce stumbles, even more taken aback by your outburst. "And he knows what my best interests are!"

You couldn't stand being cut off again. In a swift fluid motion, you sign your name onto the blank spaces, earning a bright smile from the contractor.

"You've got a deal!" Azul exclaimed, his voice echoing throughout the cathedral. Clasping onto your hand, the octomer takes the form into his hand and waves it in the air, stirring alarmed noises from the crowd.

He faces you once more, but this time, takes your side and wraps an arm around your middle. He squeezes your hip slightly in assurance just as he turns to Pierce with an obnoxious smirk.

"Splendid, my dear! Now as per the wedding registration states, along with other legislations, the Prefect cannot marry you as she is now married to me." He announces, seemingly unbothered by the way Pierce crumbles apart. The prince had begun to cling onto the altar for some sort of support, all the more crushed by how quickly he had lost you as a bride.

"You can't do that! That's unfair!" Pierce whined out, looking at you with a pained expression. He doesn't earn your sympathy, nor Azul's.

The Octanivelle dorm leader could only shrug, amused by the prince's pathetic display. "Rather unfortunate, isn't it? Not even the poor prince can't bend the law. Perhaps you should have considered the legal aspect of marriage before rushing into grand formalities."

It isn't so often that you hear a sigh of relief from Azul, given that he always seemed to have some certainty when it came to be making deals. "Now, we must best be going. Shall we, my dear?" He cooed in that familiar tone, the kind that he had only ever used with you. Like a gentleman, he offers you his arm to take.

And who are you to refuse? You giggled softly, hooking your arm into his own as he moves to lead you out of the cathedral.

"Of course, Azul."

Based on his personal logistics, Azul was 98% sure that you were going to take his offer. If Azul had faith in how well he knew you, you wouldn't marry a prince in that short lifespan. You would sooner elope with the Prince of the Fae or Kalim if you wanted any sort of prestige that came with significant power. Not to mention, Grim had given him that security that you did have feelings for him instead. That little 2% was any doubt that Grim was lying, or that maybe you would just reject him for some silly reason.

Of course, he hasn't forgotten about you having a crush on him. He doesn't really believe it himself, and he won't bring it up. There is no security in assuming your feelings, and that would be something that needs to leave your own mouth. Azul is content like this, biding his time until you eventually spill your heart out because of his fear of rejection.

Luckily, the Leech twins anticipated this and had already taken care of the issue themselves.

"It was a real marriage contract?!" You exclaimed, eyes scanning the document up and down. Both you and Azul had long since returned to the Mostro Lounge as the dinner shift is beginning to start, hoping to have a quick break when you decided to look at the document once more.

Azul had been pacing back and forth with a nervous expression, hands wrung into his hair with frustration and embarrassment. Whipping his head to the seemingly calmer twin, he fought back a scream.

"Jade, I trusted you to read the fine print! What happened?!"

Maintaining that eerie smile, Jade nodded in compliance. "I did read the fine print, Azul. Down to the last letter," The teal haired mer turned to his brother, a gloved hand covering his smile in an apologetic manner. "I suppose Floyd must have mixed up the forms with the real wedding registration. Isn't that right?"

You paused, raising a brow at the octomer with piqued curiosity. "You had a real marriage registration lying around?"

Before Azul could even recover from this leak of information, Floyd let out a reckless howl of laughter. "Whoops!" The impulsive twin shrugged, grinning wildly at you in the booth.

"Look on the bright side, you're married to Shrimpy like you wanted!"

Now that set Azul off, prompting him to lunge at the twin who simply steps aside. "FLOYD!" He cried out, wanting nothing more than to climb into his little octopot and never face you for the rest of his days. He desperately wanted to retreat, and could only recoil slightly when your hand taps at his heaving shoulders.

He looks at your questioning expression. "Like you wanted?" You echo, and there is not a single indication that you were rejecting him. No, you just needed more answers.

A strangled noise leaves Azul, right before he sighed and sank against the booth's structure. "It doesn't matter. The registration is really invalid unless it was given to the civil office for processing." The octomer croaked, face turned away.

He can never look you in the eye again after this, and he would sooner watch you wed Prince Riel before he can ever recover from this disaster. Azul expected you to laugh at him, to leave him in the dust at this very instant.

Instead, you slink back into your seat and play with the registration form on the table.

"I wouldn't mind if you handed it into the office as is, you know?"

"I beg your pardon?!" Azul choked, looking at you as if you had grown a second head. His jaw goes even more slack as you smile at him, returning those smug smiles he had been flashing you at the wedding. "You heard me. Who ever said that I never had an interest in you beyond the benefits of marriage?"

You glance the clock, gasping with fake urgency. You hop off from your seat, hands dusting at your grand wedding dress as you begin to drag yourself to the employee's lounge.

"Oh well, time to head into my shift for the Mostro Lounge. I'll talk to you later, Azul! Need to change out of this wedding dress!" You sang, pretending to ignore the way your crush scrambles for his bearings.

"Wait, Prefect! Just wait a moment, get back here! This discussion isn't over!"

JADE LEECH

"Fufufu, getting married without so much of a notice? Prefect, you attract the most strangest of things. I wonder if you enjoy danger as much as you surround yourself in it. Maybe I shouldn't be too surprised. After all, you have endured an overblot here and there. Not to mention you have Grim, and you have been living well despite having no magic. Oh, sweet Prefect, you truly are much more entertaining than you bargain for."

No one really knows what Jade plans to do when he gets to the venue. He saw the news, and just told everyone that he would take care of it. Floyd knows nothing of how Jade will deal with the situation, and neither does Azul. In fact, Azul found out rather late that Jade had decided to use up his vacation hours for today's little intervention.

That is not to say that he is heading to you without a plan. Why, Jade is a Leech, after all. Azul did not make him the vice-housewarden for nothing. He may not be as outwardly forceful as Floyd, nor a mountain of resources like Azul, but he is precisely good at one thing!

Gaslighting.

"My deepsea darling, am I late?"

Something is wrong. Well, something is always wrong whenever Jade is in the room. Such is an omen amongst Night Raven College students who would flee and swerve out of the day when this particular Leech twin is in the area. Though you have your own feelings for the eel, you cannot deny that something is awfully wrong when Jade storms in with his own tux with that eerily calm smile on his face.

He strides down the carpet, humming to himself. "I suppose I arrived just in time." Whatever words had begun to formulate in your head, they never really leave when Jade forces his way next to you, subtly making the prince make way for his intimidating frame.

Needless to say, Pierce was unpleased. "And who are you?" The prince questions, attempting to stand up to this stranger, only to fail once the eel looked down at him with an awfully cheery smile.

Oddly enough, it's that same smile he gives to students that are overdue for a favor.

"Why, I am the groom, of course!"

A cold wind bristled through the cathedral. From one row to the next, a chill runs down each of their spines. Still, there is not much of a reaction or rather, everyone was simply too stunned or too afraid to comment on this.

Your eyes are wide, fixated onto Jade's with bewilderment. "You are?" You whispered, almost uncertain yourself. Jade doesn't make much of a reaction, only keeping that calm smile as if this was the most natural occurrence in the world.

"I beg your pardon?" Pierce croaked, just as confused as you.

Clearing his throat, Jade chuckles to himself. He allows a small curt bow, a polite gesture. "Forgive me. My name is Jade Leech, and I am the groom for today's wedding." He tells the other man curtly.

The prince had let out a strangled noise in return, awkwardly trying to push Jade away from the stands. He failed, followed by a stammer. "You must be mistaken. I am the groom hoping to wed the lovely Ramshackle Prefect."

Jade hummed with feigned interest, nodding in acknowledgement. "Really? I suppose it is our lucky day. I, too, am marrying a Ramshackle Prefect. I just so happen to be marrying this one." He sang, turning to you at the right time to take in your stunned expression. Quietly, he eyes you from your head to the end of the dress's train.

"You look quite lovely in this dress, darling. Whoever picked it for you certainly had good taste." It comes so naturally, the way he slips his hand into yours. His thumb rubbed slow circles onto your skin in a soothing manner, but you cannot help and feel as if he was looking down at you like his favorite specimen. Those sharp teeth glint against the light as he grinned slightly.

Your cheeks flushed a warm red as Jade cupped your cheek, looking at you with such infatuation that it almost frightens you. You were almost certain that he wanted to eat you right on the spot. "Do not fret. It must be so nervewracking to be in front of so many strangers. I hoped to invite as many as I could, just so that we could share this lovely day with the world." He cooed so lovingly, and you swore that you were falling for it like the many sailors that died to sirens on the sea.

"Hello!? I'm right here!"

Ignoring the protests from the prince, Jade sighed to himself as he pulled away his palm from your face. "It is such a shame that I would have to skip so many steps. Why, I would have been delighted to take you on so many dates before taking your hand in marriage. You seem like the type to appreciate being courted properly. I hoped to bide my time with you, but humans do love spontaneity." The eel bemoaned, though he did not appear displeased.

Boldly, he closes in on the space between you and him. Pausing at the shell of your ear, sharp teeth gently nip at the skin before a hot breath brushed against you. "Please have me, Prefect." You had never heard him so quiet, almost shy yet the eel was far beyond hesitant.

Judging from your flushed expression, Jade held back a chuckle of his own. He didn't need your answer right now, even when he had shown you his cards. This wouldn't be about any of your feelings. Rather, he intended to do what he enjoyed doing best, whether it be coaxing the truth from another student or squeezing his next prey.

Jade decided to bide his time.

"Shall we repeat our vows? I don't believe I had the chance to express my adoration for you. Let me start from the beginning..."

Poor Pierce. The prince had to take a seat somewhere as Jade went on and on about his feelings for you. It was nothing too revealing or personal for the public view, but who would've known that Jade was completely capable of being obnoxiously in love? You've lost count of the many pet names he used, or the countless mushrooms he had likened you to. He truly had no shame, really.

However Jade managed to gaslight the entire cathedral into thinking that he was the one getting married today, he somehow pulled it off. At least, he did it long enough until Trein and Crewel dragged Crowley in by the ear to call the entire thing off.

Apparently, it is one thing to have the Prefect get married to a delusional prince. It is another to have the Prefect married to Jade Leech at this moment and time. Thankfully, they managed to intervene before the 'I do's' had begun again.

The ride going back to the college was eerily silent. You were extremely grateful that Professor Trein, Professor Crewel, and Headmaster Crowley had come at the right time to drag you out of that cathedral. You were no longer compromised, but was it really necessary to seat Crowley in-between you and Jade?

The eel didn't seem to mind, hands clasped onto his lap as the vehicle gently waved up and down according to the road. "I hope I did not make you uncomfortable, Prefect." He says calmly, glancing at you from the other side of the backseat.

You could only give him a sheepish smile from across, attempting to face the eel without the interference of Crowley's mask. "Everything's okay, Jade. I'm sorry you had to come and help me though."

"The pleasure was all mine. I am happy to have provided my assistance in the matter. Although, I was certain that everything was under control." You don't miss the way that Jade's eyes flicker to the two professors at the front then back to Crowley who flinched under the student's gaze. "But I do hope you realize that my words were genuine. I would have definitely preferred to give you my feelings at a more appropriate time."

"You like me?" You whispered in a weak attempt to find some privacy, but your impatience and curiosity had taken the better of you. Jade's composure never wavers, almost uncaring of a potential rejection. Shame was clearly unknown to him, and the hardened expressions of his professors go ignored.

"I most certainly fancy you. Wasn't it obvious?" He replied in a content tone. "Perhaps, would you like to join me for dinner at the Mostro Lounge tonight? The establishment would be closed, but I suppose Azul would not mind a special last-minute booking."

"I would like that."

"Wonderful," Jade lets out a quiet sigh, posturing himself to face forward. That eerie smile leaves an unsettling shiver through Crowley. "And thank you for coming to the Prefect's aid. I will be sure to remember this when one of you takes her down the aisle for our wedding."

A strong swerve to the left.

Trein's arm extends towards the wheel from the passenger seat, taking control of the vehicle as he attempted to drive the car back into the proper road. "Crewel, eyes on the road!" He exclaimed, far too concentrated on the road to take note of the stress written on Crewel's face. Crowley isn't doing much better, seeming to have passed out in his seat.

"Too soon to think about marriage? My apologies."

FLOYD LEECH

"Aww, Shrimpy! I knew you liked me, but don'tcha think you're playing a bit too hard to get? You're practically begging to be squeezed now! Can't wait to have you in my arms so you can't go anywhere no more." (He says it so lightheartedly, but the way his calmly strides his way towards the cathedral is so uncanny that it's frightening everyone that crosses his path).

A certain eel threw a tantrum when Azul forbade him from coming to your rescue. Such things should be handled by the right people, like any of the professors! Not you, Floyd! Letting Floyd get you is like sending a piranha fish into a tank full of bait. There was no guarantee that the wedding wouldn't end in an international disaster.

"I'll take care of it! What're you so worried about!?" Floyd asks accusingly as he casually cracks his knuckles with loud unsettling 'pops'. Jade's already tried talking him into doing something more levelheaded, but Floyd is having none of it. Shrimpy isn't getting married today, most certainly not to some no-name Prince hung up over shoe sizes.

Floyd is already gone the moment someone's eyes are off him. Not only is staff trying to figure out a plan for you, but now, they're scrambling to keep Floyd from making this messier than they should be. It's not that they distrust Floyd... actually, they do have every reason to distrust a ticking bomb like Floyd. No one can really predict him, nor can they predict what he will do to take you back.

Floyd isn't the type to dance around with formalities. Jade has always been the more diplomatic one, much more crafted around social codes and conducts. Frankly, Floyd couldn't give two shits about being polite and courteous, especially when it came to securing goods.

After all, this wasn't a deal under Azul's name. He didn't have to handle some precious cargo or sweeten up to some bargainer. Everyone is fair game when it comes to you.

"Congratulations, Shrimpy! I didn't know you were getting married to princey-poo over here!" The eel yelled from door, crooked grin and all. Your face lit up with a smile almost immediately as some sort of relief flooded your being.

"Floyd!" You exclaimed as your hands bunched up your dress and your feet climbed down the short stairs. You ignored the way Pierce called out for you, opting to race down the carpet until your head bumped into Floyd's sternum.

It couldn't be helped. If there was someone who was going to rescue you no matter what, you can bet on Floyd who would do it without hesitation, regardless of how messy the work would be... At least, that would only apply when it came to Shrimpy.

Tilting his head to the side with surprise, Floyd's grin widened as he took his hand to caress the top of your head. "Aww, you're squeezing me real tight! It's making me wanna squeeze back, real good." Your heart stopped for a moment, feeling his strong arms snake around your shoulders.

You braced yourself for a tight squeeze, holding your breath before he could crush you.

Oddly enough, it is Pierce that spares you from the blow. The prince cleared his throat, glaring at the eel as he reached for the handle of his sword. "Look, I don't know who you are, but you'd best return the Prefect to me right now."

Unfortunately, Floyd does so little as to bat an eye to the prince with a shrug. "Eh? I don't wanna." He drawled apathetically, too fixated on the pretty patterns of your dress.

"I beg your pardon?" Pierce choked, adamant for a proper explanation. He flinched at the way Floyd's gaze locks into him, frightened by the slightest look of irritation on the eel's face. "You heard me. I don't wanna give up Shrimpy for marriage."

You attempt to look up from Floyd's chest, hoping to placate him but his hand pressures your head to stay pressed to his chest. You wouldn't be able to see that scary look on his face, nor would you see the way that Pierce swallowed to himself in fear.

"I already came a long way to pick up Shrimpy. I don't think she likes you very much. Do you, Shrimpy? You wanna marry him?" You could only muffle your protests through his chest, and it seemed to be enough to snap the eel out his souring mood.

Floyd grinned, pleased with your supressed response. "You don't wanna? You hear that, princey? Shrimpy got no plans to get married today. I'll be taking her home now, okay?"

Finally, you get the chance to breathe once Floyd had released you from his hold. Before you could really regain your bearings, your world is flipped upside down when Floyd tosses you over his shoulder like a sack of rice. You couldn't really stop yourself from banging on his back, flustered by the gesture.

"Floyd, put me down!" You cried out. Your little punches only served to make Floyd laugh. "Don't wanna! You're too slow!" He yelled back with amusement, purposely picking up the pace to annoy you further.

"Wanna see how fast I can get you back to campus, Shrimpy? Hold on tight!"

Thankfully, Floyd gets bored of running before you got truly nauseous. He can't seem to remember how he got here in the first place, so the best thing to do is wait until Azul or Jade come to find you both. Until then, he plans to amuse himself with you for the rest of the day.

Similarly to Jade, Floyd has no shame when it comes to dragging you around in that wedding dress. He's already dragged you into a convenience store, an arcade, and even the basketball court despite your attire. Even as your dress got dirtier and dirtier, nothing really took away from how much he was enjoying himself with you.

He did get slightly annoyed when he noticed how much trouble you've had keeping up with him in those dreadful glass slippers. But he had just the perfect solution for that!

"Shrimpy! The store had it in your size!" Floyd giggled to himself, eagerly slipping off the glass slipper from your sore foot. Nothing could really compare to the relief you felt feeling the soft padding of the shoe instead of that painful arch. Wiggling your toes in the space, you smiled at the eel from your seat on the bench.

He easily performs the same gesture to your other foot, moreover pleased with how the runners looked on your feet. "Hehe, now we match!" Your eyes flicker down to his own shoes; basketball runners specifically tailored for comfort. Of course, Floyd would have invested in something like this. He was merfolk, after all. They would have taken better care of their feet compared to the average human.

"Oh, Floyd! You didn't have to get me these. I would've been just fine with slippers." You tell him with a slight pout. Floyd shrugged in response, rising to his feet. His shadow is cast over you, his body shielding you from the setting sun. "If I didn't get them for you, Shrimpy would've had a tough time playing with me."

Your pout intensified as you got up to your feet, grabbing at the basketball he had bought from the store as well. You bounce the ball off the asphalt, careful to not step on your dress. "At least let me pay you back later." As soon as those words left your lips, you immediately come to regret them.

It was never a good idea to offer compromises with an Octanivelle student.

A wide toothy grin comes across Floyd's face as he swipes the ball from you, taking a hop to the side as he shoots towards the rim. The sport is long forgotten however as he leers towards you, eager to strike at your weak attempts to take back your offer.

"Shrimpy's being generous today! I ain't interested in your thaumarks. Azul gives me plenty of that already," He stalked you down, backing you up against the wire fence. His arms cage you in, leaving you nowhere to run or hide.

"Now that I think of it, you haven't even paid me back for saving you. I'm still mad that you went to go and get hitched without me, y'know? I was really upset. I hate the idea of you getting together with somebody else." Floyd's mismatched eyes glint with need and want, followed by the way he leans in until his warm breath tickles your lips.

"I like chasing you, Shrimpy. But if you keep making me chase you, I'm gonna squeeze you so tight so you stop hiding."

Lips curved upward, Floyd smiles into the kiss he presses against you. There is a certain gentleness you never expected from him, a kind that you reciprocate. Molding your lips against his, the eel pulled away with a satisfied sigh. Still, he doesn't free you from the cage he created.

"You have feelings for me?" You question softly, followed by a giddy giggle of his own. "Took you long enough to notice! But that's alright," Another kiss is stolen from you, leaving you in a daze.

"You're gonna be making it up to me. We can start with a little squeeze!"

[thesecondhandwoman]

𝑷𝑼𝑷𝑷𝑬𝑻 𝑺𝑯𝑶𝑾

Jinx x f!reader

Synopsis: It was just another comforting family moment in Jinx’s hideout when your daughter, Isha, decided that she wanted to have a puppet show created by her mamas.

A/N: Had to write a mama jinx fic because her relationship with isha destroyed me.

The hideout was cluttered in the best way possible—scraps of paper, gears, and bits of paint-streaked fabric scattered across the wooden floor. It smelled like gunpowder and paint, the air still tinged with the scent of last night’s late-night project, some kind of half-finished contraption Jinx had abandoned midway in favor of lying across your lap and playing with Isha’s hair until the little girl fell asleep.

Now, the three of you were sitting in your usual spots, Jinx lounging on her stomach, absentmindedly twirling a screwdriver between her fingers, you sitting cross-legged beside her, and Isha perched between the both of you, sketchbook in hand.

Jinx yawned and stretched, poking Isha’s cheek with the screwdriver. “What’s up, kid? You’re staring.”

Isha scrunched her nose, swatting Jinx’s hand away before flipping her sketchbook around. Crayon lines sketched out three figures, two taller ones with unmistakable streaks of blue and your own signature look, and between them, a smaller figure holding their hands. But what stood out the most were the little stick-puppet versions of you and Jinx clutched in your drawn hands.

You tilted your head, taking it in before a grin tugged at your lips. “Looks like she wants a puppet show.”

Jinx’s eyes lit up with an almost childlike glimmer, pushing herself up onto her elbows. “Puppet show, huh? Oh, kid, you are in for a treat.” She shot up, already digging through the various piles of junk around the hideout, snatching up cloth scraps, loose screws, and what might have been an old sock at one point. “We’re gonna make the best damn puppets this side of Zaun has ever seen.”

Isha clapped her hands together, eyes alight with excitement. You chuckled, reaching over to ruffle her hair before helping Jinx gather materials.

It didn’t take long for your makeshift crafting station to turn into chaos. Jinx had glue on her cheek, you had thread tangled around your fingers, and Isha, bless her, was trying her hardest to sew while giggling at Jinx’s constant stream of nonsense.

Jinx, being Jinx, crafted something delightfully chaotic—a tiny, messy version of herself with wild blue yarn for hair and big mismatched button eyes. “Looks just like me, huh?” she joked, holding it up to her face.

You held back a laugh. “It’s a spitting image,” you teased before presenting your own puppet, much softer in dramatics than jinx’s, with neatly stitched features and a lopsided smile. “And look, she even has an actual shirt instead of whatever that is.”

Jinx gasped in faux offense. “Babe. That ‘whatever’ is art.”

Isha was already giggling, hugging her own tiny puppet versions of you both to her chest. She then pointed expectantly at the table, signaling that it was time for the show to begin.

Jinx cleared her throat dramatically, dropping into a stage whisper. “Alright, ladies and, well, ladies. Welcome to the greatest, most entertaining show of your life!” She ducked behind a nearby crate, holding up her mini-puppet self. “Introducing the fearless, the stunning, the ridiculously cool, Jinx!”

You played along, lifting your own puppet and giving it a tiny bow. “And her ever-patient, slightly concerned partner, me.”

Isha clapped as the show began, the two of you making the puppets bounce and interact in exaggerated, silly voices. Jinx’s puppet cackled and flipped over dramatically (assisted by her wiggling fingers), while yours sighed and crossed its little arms.

“Jinx, you can’t just declare yourself the queen of Zaun.”

“Uh, yeah, I can.” Jinx wiggled her puppet in a mockingly regal manner. “I got the crown and everything.”

“You don’t have a crown,” your puppet huffed.

“Oh yeah?” Jinx disappeared for a second before reappearing, having shoved a small tin lid on her puppet’s head. “How about now?”

Isha was in stitches, muffling her giggles with her hands. It was a rare sound, and one that made you and Jinx share a quick, warm glance.

By the end, Isha was clapping enthusiastically, her joy written all over her face. She reached forward and tugged both you and Jinx into a tight hug, her little arms squeezing as if she could keep this moment forever.

Jinx snickered, ruffling Isha’s hair. “Alright, kiddo. You win. Puppet shows are officially a thing now.”

You pressed a kiss to Jinx’s temple before squeezing Isha back. “Best audience we’ve ever had.”

The three of you spent the rest of the evening making more puppets, one for Silco, one for Sevika (though Jinx made hers absurdly buff), and even a tiny Fishbones. At some point, Isha curled up in your lap, drowsy but still smiling, and Jinx draped herself over both of you like a content cat.

“Hey,” Jinx murmured after a while, her fingers absently playing with Isha’s hair. “We’re a pretty good pair of parents, huh?”

You pressed your cheek to her shoulder, letting out a hum of agreement. “Yeah. The best.”

And as the soft glow of lanterns flickered around you, the sounds of the Lanes distant but ever-present, you let yourself believe it, right here, with Jinx and Isha tangled up in warmth and laughter, everything was exactly as it should be.

A/N: MY SHAYLA, OH MY SHAYLA..

[deesseshesca]

PAC : What flashback is imprinted in your lover's mind ? (18+)

Y'all don't know how long it takes for me to found the right images just to end up disappointed ... smh

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PILE 1 

You guys are childhood best friends. Maybe your moms knew each other forever or y’all are neighbors. Y’all grew up together … max 5 years age gap. I feel like this person is older than you. The feminine energy you grew beautifully. Is not even about liking you or not … you are very attractive. A lot of friends of your bff try to hit on you some of y’all, your best friend gave the green light. While others … if you are surprised nobody is hitting on you or even acting interested … babe put 2 and 2 together. Nah you are not bad at flirting actually you are very good. Damm you are a triple threat; beautiful, charming and smart … not your bff doing you wrong. 

The flashback. 

For a long time, they kept their distance. Your person has a lot of integrity and they believe in boy and girl friendship. So they put whatever feeling that was coming through to the side. Or brush it off by being to horny at the moment. Not like… you are the only woman available around me and that’s why I am horny. More in the way that: ‘’Ok pile 2 is attractive and my body is having a normal reaction.’’. The flush they felt when you back yourself on their chest. The tingles they feel when you are close to them, your eyes sparkling because you are talking about something that excites you. The yearning for your touch after you give them a hug or you just run your hand on their back or hair. They love embracing you and putting their chin on your head. They are so grateful for y’all closeness and the fact that you’ve been close because they get to share intimate moments with you in front of people without anyone really questioning y’all. Also they don’t know if they can handle never touching you. 

The vision is you organizing some type of party at your house. Could be a summer house where you invited everyone you knew and the invited; invited more people. Chérie d’Amour y’all are popular. Which does not surprise me . Before you look around running away from the title just know there’s nothing wrong with the title. Some people don’t want to realize  that there are some people with amazing social skills, that love to interact with their environment, that live in their authenticity while being extremely charming and attractive. Like y’all not all popular people are mean. Most of the time they are  resourceful  since they always know a person that knows a person. Moving on , it could be you inviting your soul tribe over at your apartment for Friendsgiving or just for the fuck of it. Y’all like hosting and you go all in. You choose a theme  and buy decorations for it. Keep going with your skills and it will not surprise me if your friend asks you to organize their engagement party or baby shower in the future. Anyway they came early … duuuuuh… bff duty. They were cutting some stuff in the kitchen. Before I go deeper, y’all keep teasing him/her by giving that person fuck me eyes, rub their dick/pussy by accident or texting them ungodly things. Some of y’all discuss each other's sexual past and desires. They were only uncomfortable because they soon realized that not only was y’all relationship not a friendship no more but they were now infatuated by you . They then took a cold shower … LOL … They might even pep talk their dick/pussy before dealing with you. Making sure shit doesn't go hard/wet otherwise it will be very embarrassing. That being said you push them on the wall, they are confuse as fuck, asking question but all you do is  giggle with your seductive eye. You went straight to business , you rushed pulling down their zipper or bringing down their panties. If they have a dick, you just wipe out their hard dick. They complain all the time about how wrong this whole thing is and the fact that people may walk in on y’all or maybe that cooking is going to take even more time because you are playing around. Until the last minute, they don’t believe whatever is happening. Blaming it on the vape, alcohol or weed or fucking whatever (even mercury retrograde for some … lol). Until you are inches away from their dick, looking at them with a big smile. Or you are about to enter your finger in their hole asking them for final consent. I heard them (clearly and firmly) say: ‘’ If you do it … there is no stopping after that’’. You go for it. Eyes close because you are not used to giving head. So instead of enjoying their moan or giving them sexy eyes, you pace your breathing and make sure you are moving your head probably to give them maximum pleasure. If they are an owner of a pussy, I see you pumping your finger and looking at them while they have a hand on their mouth trying to keep the moan in. Which makes you laugh even more. They are going to make you take more inches in, this head session is turning into deepthroat. They definitely talk you through it : ‘’ C’mon … you can take it baby girl. That’s it (moan)’’. You are just hoping not to choke on it. If it is a woman, you are taking their hand away and forcing them to be vocal about how good you make them feel.  I don’t know how y’all made your way from the kitchen to the bedroom but I see them thrusting deep and slowly inside of you. Completely focus on you. The whole session is very sensual and loving. They even rambled about how much they dream of time like this. If it is with an owner of a vagina, y’all share a lot of orgasm but you were more the one leading and give them pleasure. I am hearing a lot of ‘’ Love, baby, babygirl, honey’’ and ‘’ Right, yes… you love it, cum for me please baby’’. Then it's close, to y’all wake up next morning  all happy and they  realize the mess that just been achieved. They don’t regret it but now they are realizing they are stuck with you for life because they are officially  in love with you. 

That's a flashback playing on repeat in their head, reminding them that they have to make you theirs. 

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PILE 2 

This is actually your energy and not theirs. You are the one going through flashbacks. Also I am getting a 100% straight vibe from this pile. Don’t matter if you resonate more with feminine or masculine energy, all I see is a penis and a punani. 

You guys are very awkward when it comes to sex. You guys may be neurodivergent and quite high on the spectrum too. It doesn't matter how much you mask, you can't seem to hit it right. A lot of you have a strong sex appeal but when it comes down to it you're clueless. People need to stop thinking that just because someone is sexy that means they are a sex god. Y’all are very curvy and soft, big boobs, luscious butt and slimmer waist but still with a stomach. Maybe even a fupa. Your hair is long and shiny but I think it is just because of genes. You have your mother's face and her lighter color eyes. People always try to drag you in their bed  with your consent. You accept expecting it to be different but you always end up disappointed and the person is extremely pleased but never knows if you actually enjoy it. NEWS FLASH : You did not. You dissociate a lot during sex, y’all may suffer from depression, anxiety or OCD. I see you getting fucked, holding your tits and literally looking at the person on top of you straight in their eye like ‘’Ho is u cool’’. 

Flashback. 

I don’t know how you met that person or even the setting. I see you opening up and telling them how you never orgasm even though you try your best. They decide to help you, I am not getting FWB. You accept gladly thinking ‘’ what’s one more loser going to do to my body count ? ’’. They make you sit on their lap or on the sofa between their legs. They are talking to you through it like a meditation, they are not loving but more so calming. Telling you to close your eyes and let them do the job. Panties on the ground, you were wearing a skirt. Before you knew it, their fingers were playing with your clit and hole. They ask you to keep your eyes, playing with your nipples. You orgasm, you may have gotten really loud and you never felt so much pleasure. Suddenly your voice gets sexy. Is like they woken the sexy goddess sleeping in you, next thing you know,  you are begging them to suck their dick. They are going to refuse, showing you how hard you got them. Before they wipe it out and they ejaculate on you.  The vision stops there. The thing that gets you wet is their dick. You guys still masturbate at the thought of them having their dick in your mouth.

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PILE 3

You guys are in a relationship with that person. You guys' relationship is so goals. A lot of y’all friends look up to y’all relationships. That person may be a non-binary. Is like the collision of 2 different worlds when it comes to y’all aesthetic. You guys are straight but your partner is part of the rainbow community. They may also be into alternative art, music and style. 

The flashback . 

Y’all had sex multiple times before and after that flashback but that one time is like a golden memory for them. You guys were going to a concert of one of their favorite goth or rock bands and you dress up to the T. Y’all were fucking sexy with your makeup, hair (some of y’all even dye your hair a darker or flashy color for the event), body was expose in lowkey trashy way and you were being clingy which boost their ego because every guy around them realize how much game they had bagging a baddie like you. I see y’all having a lot of fun while waiting in line with them and their friends. The concert may have been planned for months because y‘all end up having sex in y’all hotel room.

They didn't even wait for you to get unready, the sec that you walked in they grabbed your hips. I see you trying to scream but their hand comes in your mouth. Before anyone calls the popo, this couple has been having sex and that’s really their dynamic. What fucking surprise me is the fact that I was not expecting this energy coming from them. Like how something so nerdy and awkward is so rough and skillful in the bedroom. It really be the nerdy one … They up your skirt and force themselves in your anus. You guys are playing along with it. I mean duhhhh is y’all dynamic. Is lowkey giving roleplay and bdsm but very lowkey. I hear you say ‘’stop’’ at the same time that shit actually turns you on. They made you orgasm multiple times before dragging you on the bed ( damn y’all are still clothed … I mean your clothes are torn… but anyway chile…). They are now cuddle fucking you and is rough and quick. They are playing with you  like you are a sex doll. The stuff I put myself through to give y’all good content; I heard them saying:’’Yeah, yeah, take it. Take it all like the good girl that you are’’. They love calling you good girl, that’s all I keep hearing over and over. Or maybe it is your assigned position in your sexual dynamic. Some of y’all may even have rules and punishment. Anyway let me get the fuck out the rabit hole. The orgasm was literally an euphoric sensation, they are comparing it to Xnax (they are telling me that this is an inside joke between y’all. You guys never did that drug. Or is an important lyric of a song that y’all share). When they were probably done, you were the one that did the cleaning up because they were extremely overstimulated.  Between the concert, the abundant love they have for you, the demanding sex, everything became too much.  Some of y’all even brought that person flowers because their performance was that good. 

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PILE 4 

This is your co-worker which I don't think shocks you because you only fuck him as a joke. A way to show them how pathetic they really is. To use him and play with him. I think you and this person are always in some sort of competition at work because your views differ a lot. While others are riding for them because of their last name, their attractiveness and even money. You don't give a fuck and say what the fuck is up. Both of y'all are always competing with each other. What I mean by that is an issue was brought up in a meeting and both of y’all came away with a solution. Maybe y’all boss hints that whoever project we are going to take, this person will be the manager of it therefore make the other person their yes man.  Both of you have a big ego so there’s no way. Yes way and they lost. Now I move from this setting to a Halloween party. Also all this doesn't necessarily mean it is corporate related, it could be a college project. When you read a pick a card you take whatever resonates and try to make it work for your situation. 

Flashback. 

I see you daring them to follow you which intrigues them. Maybe you have worn a cat costume. Y’all were dressed up as animals. They walk in and you pushed them on the bed. There is no lighting except for the moon light. You told them while holding their shoulder, by the way, they were wearing a pathetic last minute costume : ‘’ You really fucking thought you would win (their name)''. You take your black heel and push it on their dick and they fucking whimpered and you laughed. They barely spoke during the experience. You rubbed their dick with your heel while mocking them. Your eye, babe for a long time that’s all I could focus on. Before I even shuffle some cards, the way you looked at them is enough to make them bust. You caress their torso, their thighs and suck off their dick while insulting them. They cum, you try to leave but they want more so you let them suck your tits. I am hearing: ‘’ That’s it. That’s all you are good for. You will never be better than me…’’. Y’all really dislike each other even hate each other. We all know hate is passionate love anyways. You suddenly stand up and leave them wanting more. Every time they lay eyes on you they think about that one time.

They almost develop an unhealthy obsession with you. They have stalked you at some point but knew better so they keep their desire to themself. Honestly they hurt themselves (not self harm but I just don’t know how)  not to fall into deep obsession with you. 

Half of yall is just a sexual fantasy that someone around you has regarding you.

If you have never seen that person in a sexual sitting, they are big and needy for you, don't let the facade fool you.  Take a moment to see how their eyes linger on you and how truly amuse they are about the whole feud between y’all.

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[pahtoosh]

tiny ride

[image ID: Winnie the Pooh saying “It’s the first day of autumn!” and tossing orange leaves in the air. /.end ID]

masterlist

18+

wc: ~500 words

warnings: baby space, daddies playfully negotiating

a/n: just a little something i wrote on my phone! i just love daddies being silly with their baby

pairing: daddy!stucky x gn!little!reader

summary: you’re super tiny during the drive to the fall festival

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

There was a time when Steve and Bucky didn’t care for novel seasonal activities. They’d celebrate big holidays with each other and the team, but they didn’t get excited about pumpkin flavored goods or decorate for anything besides Christmas.

When you came in to the picture, however, your daddies found themselves partaking in every special event that came along with the changing weather. They wanted to give you as many fun experiences as they could. One of the traditions they started was a visit to the farm’s fall festival.

This time, you were so little that Baba had to sit in the back with you while Dada drove to the farm. Whenever this happened, you’d spend the whole ride giggling and cooing at whichever daddy was with you. Your eyes would never leave their face. Their loving gazes were better than anything you could see outside the window.

While he had your attention, Bucky would talk to you. He loved seeing your reactions and relaying them to Dada.

“When we get to the farm, there’s gonna be all sorts of activities for you, baby. We’ll go on a hayride, get some warm apple cider in that cute belly,” he gently ticked your stomach, making you squeal. “And then we’ll pick pumpkins! What do you think, angel?”

You squealed once more and clapped your hands. your tiny brain didn’t understand what Baba was saying, but he seemed excited and you loved responding to questions.

Bucky laughed, knowing that you had no idea what he meant.

“How’d we get the cutest baby in the world, Stevie?”

“They get that from me,” Steve boasted. “Isn’t that right, sweetie?”

You babbled instead of squealing, excited to be in on the conversation but wanting to sound grown up.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Bucky scoffed. “Alright, punk. But I get to sit with baby on my lap for the hayride. Isn’t that right, bubba? Don’t you wanna sit on Baba’s lap for the hayride?”

You giggled and babbled once more.

Bucky held out his pointer finger to you, letting you wrap your hand around it. He brought your tiny fist to his lips, kissing the back of your hand to keep your giggles going.

The envy from the driver’s seat was nearly suffocating.

“You can sit with them for the hayride as long as I get the backseat on the way home,” Steve proposed.

“I also wanna ride the big slide with them,” Bucky said.

Baba made silly faces at you, joining in on your laughter when you tried copying his expressions. Steve caught a glimpse of this adorable interaction through the rearview mirror. He began to rethink his aversion towards self-driving cars.

“There’s no way I’m giving up the hayride and the slide. What if I get the slide and you get to feed them their first apple cider doughnut?”

“Deal.”

Your daddies smiled as you continued babbling to to them. They couldn’t wait to enjoy this new season with you.

[phoward89]

Based on this ask

Warning ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is his own warning, child gets hurt (nothing major), unruly mobs, poison, hanging tree

“Daddy!” Cassian Xanthos excitedly exclaimed, running over to Coriolanus as you followed behind him, your belly just starting to swell with your second child so you're still able to keep up with your little blonde rugrat.

“Did Mommy bring you here to help me run the country, Cass?” Your husband asked your son, who was his spitting image at 4 years old. The little boy had the same light platinum blonde curls, the same baby blue eyes, the same prominent nose, long legs, and toothy grin.

A grin that was missing something.

“I finally lost my tooth!” Cassian proudly announced, climbing up onto your husband's lap as he sat at his desk in his presidential office.

“Yeah? Let me see it.” Coriolanus beamed, giving your son a proud smile.

You couldn't help, but to melt at the interaction you were watching unfold before your very eyes. Coriolanus, despite being a cold, callous, stern, calculated, iron-fisted leader, was a very loving husband and father. Around you and your son, he was a different man. A man that let his guard down, let himself have emotions.

Coriolanus presented himself to the public as a hard man and rarely talked about his family. The only ones that knew how much his family meant to him was the presidential mansion staff. And they knew better than to cross their boss. The staff knew that if they wanted to keep breathing and assure that their families didn't wind up banished to the districts that it's best to ignore how soft the cold hearted President Snow was with his family.

“Cass, put your tooth under your pillow tonight and the tooth fairy will collect your tooth; give you a reward.” Your husband told your son, making the little boy smile and giggle in excitement.

Coriolanus made sure to incorporate all of those little traditions he grew up with. The ones Grandma’am had shared with him when he was a little orphan boy, growing up alone and afraid during a war.

“Last time I lost a tooth, the tooth fairy gived me a gold coin.” Cassian. Xandros chirped.

Coriolanus cringed at hearing his son's improper grammar. Looking down at his boy, your husband corrected him with, “It's the tooth fairy gave me a gold coin, not gived.”

“Okay.” Cassian simply smiled.

Looking away from the little boy in his lap and over to you, Coriolanus asked, “Have the maids finished packing our bags for our trip to 12?”

Your husband, being the President, had to take trips to the districts to deal with things. It was mostly meetings with PK commanders and mayors, sometimes a few other things such as productivity at a factory or a mine. But he never went into full details with you about it. You usually just had to deal with him bitching about the incompetent people he had to meet with.

You also got stuck attending dinners with the PK commanders, mayors, and their families. Coryo always brought his family along on his business trips for that very reason. So that his family could smooze with the family of whoever he was stuck meeting with. Your husband was all about networking.

“Yes.” You nodded, leaning against the edge of his desk and resting your hand on your barely there baby bump. “Paloma, placed the bags in the foyer of the living quarters; I think the chauffeur's loading them into the car soon.

“As soon as I'm done with my paperwork we'll head out.” Coriolanus informed you, picking up his pen and resuming his paperwork while letting his son sit on his lap.

“Okay, but why do we have to go to 12? We both hate it there, can't you just send one of your staff to handle whatever mine dispute is going on?”

“Darling, I can't send an assistant. I need to handle this myself because, apparently, the last time I sent an assistant nothing got done.”

“Daddy, why you and Mommy hate 12?” Your son innocently asked your husband.

You narrowed your eyes at Coryo, silently warning him that the story of you two’s past in 12 wasn't fitting for the ears of a 4 year old little boy.

Yea… Telling your son that Coriolanus and you met each other when he was a Peacekeeper (and that he was supposed to be Lucy Gray’s beau), that he paid for an apartment you shared (he was supposed to live in the barracks, but he always seemed to sneak in and out before wakeup call), and brought you back to the Capitol with him wasn't a good idea. He was too young; wouldn't understand.

Hell, you're hoping that Cassian never learns the truth about how you and Coryo got together. It's just too complicated. Maybe even somewhat embarrassing in a way.

Your husband gave your son his old puppy plushie from his childhood. It was a plushie that your son slept with. He had to take it with him during trips, or else he'd be up all night crying without it. Cassian Xandros couldn't sleep without his plushie, Puppers.

And Puppers couldn't be packed in the suitcase. No, your son has to carry that plushie with him when going somewhere. Sticking it in the luggage gives him panic attacks.

And dealing with a 4 year old having a panic attack’s no easy feat. Especially when that child's the carbon copy of Coriolanus Snow. Oh boy…the panic attacks that Cassian would have over thinking his Puppers was lost were on a whole different level.

Like the end of the world, the 2nd apocalypse, and WW4 type of level. The little boy was unconsolable while having one. You would always hold your son and assure him that everything was fine. You'd whisper reassuring words to him and comfort him while your husband would find the puppy plushie and shove it into your son's hands.

Safe to say, it was easier to just let Cassian carry Puppers the puppy plushie onto the train with him then to pack it up.

“Daddy, did you bring Puppers on trips when you was little?” Cassian Xandros asked his father while sitting on his lap, looking out the window of the Presidential train car your family had just boarded half an hour earlier.

“It's when you were little, Cass.” Coriolanus corrected your son’s grammar, like he always did.

You just smiled from your spot on the sofa, eating some fruit while watching your favorite boys. They're two peas in a pod. You know that Cassian Xandros is most likely going to follow in his father's political footsteps when he's older. You can see it already.

“No.” Coryo shook his head. A faraway look appeared in your husband's icy blue eyes as he looked out the window over your son's head of platinum curls. Looking down at the little boy in his lap, a thin line of a smile appeared on his face as he explained, “I didn't go on trips as a little boy because things were scary back then. Panem wasn't safe like it is now.”

Looking at his dad, who was his hero, Cassian asked, “And you make it safe, right daddy? Cause you's President?”

“Yes, your daddy makes the country very safe because he's the president.” You answered Cassian before Coriolanus had the chance to correct his grammar.

And it's true, your husband had put many laws, rules, and regulations in effect when it came to the law and order of the country; to keep Panem safe. To keep the country running smoothly. Your husband had seen many horrors in his short life, more than you and that's something considering that you grew up in the districts. Your husband had an obsessive need for control and order; it showed in his political policies.

You never got into it. As First Lady your job was to just smile, go to charity events, host tea parties, etc. Oh, you also collected gossip for your husband, that he used to make decisions about who he should and shouldn't eliminate. But, as First Lady, your role wasn't as a ruler- that was your husband's job. Coriolanus was the President, he oversaw the country and you’re just his sidekick.

“You're mommy’s right.” Coryo smiled, only to ruffle his son's light blonde curls and correct his grammar, once again, with, “And it's because you're President, not cause you’s President, Cass.”

The trip from Capitol City, Panem to District 12, Panem was a very long and boring journey. Traveling from the Rockies to Appalachia was always a soul sucking experience. You and your husband avoid traveling to District 12 like the plague, but unfortunately it couldn't be avoided. It seems that the route was long and full of nothing to look at, but a few old crumbling ruins of ancient Pre-Panem cities.

Cassian Xandros, being a little boy, was excited when the train passed by the remnants of the ancient places. “Mommy, Daddy, what District that?”

Never looking up from his reports, Coriolanus told your son, “It's not a district son, it's the ancient city of Pittsburgh.”

“What happened?” The little boy, who inherited both his father's looks and thirst for knowledge, asked.

“Don't worry about it, buddy. You'll learn about it when you're older in school.”

“But daddy-” Cassian Xandros began, only for the president to sternly cut him off with, “I told you not to worry about it, Cassian.”

Seeing the dejected look on your son's face paired with his low lip quivering made you decide that your husband needed a talking to. That you're going to straighten him out. So, giving your son a soft smile, you suggested in a sweet and motherly tone, “Why don't you go to the dining car and ask an Avox for some ice cream? Hmm?”

‘Okay, mommy.” Cassian nodded, a ghost of a smile on his lips, before taking off to go get his ice cream. A treat that you knew would make him feel better; would also get him out of the suite long enough for you to tell off your husband.

As soon as the door to the train car closed, you gave your husband a disgruntled look and told him, ‘Coriolanus, I understand that you're tense because we're almost at 12, but that doesn't give you the right to snap at Cassian. He's just curious about why there's ancient ruins outside of the Districts along the train tracks.”

“I need to prepare for my upcoming meetings, darling. I don't have time to conduct history lessons with a 4 year old right now.” Coryo said dismissively, as if everything you just told him wasn't important. As if his goddamn paperwork was more important.

Well it wasn't and you're going to let him know that.

“You're not the only one that's on edge about this visit to 12, Coryo.” Your said, causing your husband to look at you. Shaking your head, you admitted, “I haven't seen my brother Rein since he disowned me; called me a sellout and a whore when I became your girl. Going back there, not knowing how my family's going to react seeing me as your pregnant First Lady; the mother of your son, terrifies me.”

And your estranged family's opinion of you, after all of these years, did have you worried. You didn't part with Rein and his girlfriend, Ashlie, on the best of terms. They made you choose between them and a Capitol born and bred peacekeeper, Private Snow. You, in the end, picked Coryo. The man that took care of you while you lived in 12, who took you with him when he got discharged and sent back to the Capitol. The man who married you despite the way his Grandma’am turned her nose down at you.

The last time you saw your brother it was when you were on stage with your husband while he was giving a speech during a presidential campaign tour. Although district citizens can't vote, Capitol citizens and those serving the Capitol in the Peacekeepers can. So, Coryo decided to do a district tour to boost morale and votes of the Peacekeepers. He even made sure to use his background as one along with the fact that his father was General Crassus Snow during the election too.

But that was around the time you discovered you were pregnant, so…

“But I'm not taking it out on Cass; I won't sit back and watch you do that, Coryo.” You told your husband, needing him to know that your son couldn't be an emotional punching bag.

Setting his paperwork aside, Coryo stood up and sighed, “You're brother, Rein, and that ratty whore of his are idiots.” Going over to the sofa and taking a seat next to you, your husband snaked an arm around you, bringing you to lean your head against his chest. “I'm sorry that being with me caused such a rift between you and your family; you should've told me you've been feeling apprehensive about this trip.”

“Coryo, you know that I get over emotional from pregnancy hormones. I didn't want to bother you with my feelings about this trip.” You told Coriolanus, feeling like you're ready to burst into tears at any second.

At that very moment, your son walked back into the train car with an ice cream cone in his hand. Seeing you so sad and his daddy trying to make you feel better, Cassian Xandros went over to Coriolanus, only to hold his ice cream out and say, “Daddy, mommy’s sad. Give her my ice cream; then she'll be happy.”

“No, you eat it, sweetie.” You told your son while holding your husband's hand; preventing him from taking the ice cream.

You knew that Coryo would take the ice cream under the guise of giving it to you, but would eat it himself once you turned the treat down. Your husband has an odd relationship with free food…

“Do you want Puppers instead? He always makes me feel better.” Cassian asked, licking his chocolate ice cream cone that had every single once covered by chocolate sprinkles. That was definitely something your son got from his Snow genes. The love of chocolate.

“Oh, I'm fine, Cassian. Your baby sister's just making me a little dramatic.”

“But I thought Auntie Tigris said that daddy the drama queen in the family.”

“Looks like visits with Auntie Tigris are coming to an end.” Coriolanus coldly muttered under his breath.

“President Snow, Sir, we’ve arrived.” A Peacekeeper announced, walking into the presidential train car once the train has stopped.

“Thank you.” Your husband nodded, only to stand up and look towards you and your son. “It's time to go meet the mayor.”

“Is it still Mayor Lipp?” You wondered, standing up with your son and going over to Coriolanus.

You haven't set foot in 12 since Coriolanus did a presidential campaign tour years ago, before you had Cassian, so you had no idea what was going on politically in the district. Honestly, you didn't care either. But, you did need to know who the mayor was since that's who was housing your family for your visit.

“Yes, that wretched fool’s still the mayor.”

“Mister President, Sir.” The Peacekeeper acknowledged your husband, only to turn to you and say, “First Lady, Ma’am.”, before stating, “A Peacekeeper, says his name's Smiley, is here to escort you to the barracks.”

A puzzled look appeared on your face. “The barracks? But we're staying with the mayor.”

“According to this Smiley, Ma’am, the Commander here in 12 has made new arrangements for the Presidential family.”

“Smiley’ll tell us what's going on, darling. Don't worry, we'll be fine.” Coriolanus assured you, since he didn't want you to get yourself in a tizzy while in your delicate condition. He was always so protective of you when you're carrying his child.

But there was a need to worry. Unknown to Coriolanus and you, the miners were striking and protesting. And not just a few of them, but all of them. Apparently they were tired of working long hours underground in dangerous circumstances without being properly compensated.

The protests started at the mines, but by the time your train arrived at the depot, the station was swarming with District 12 miners demanding to be treated like human beings instead of slave labor. Peacekeepers were lined up, keeping them at bay with rifles drawn and threats to shoot. It was so bad that the Commander was afraid for the safety of Coriolanus and his family. Honestly, none of you should be there, but it was too late to cancel the meeting between the President, the mining bosses, the mayor, and the Commander of District 12.

So, the Commander sent Smiley to greet President Coriolanus Snow and to inform him of what's going on. To act as a makeshift bodyguard because the two men are friends.

Well, your husband only used his old bunkmate as a contact to keep tabs on District 12, but friend sounded much better.

“Coryo…” You trailed off, looking up at your husband. You were tucked into his side as he had an arm protectively wrapped around you, hand on your round belly. His other arm was holding your son against his chest in a vice tighter than that of a boa constrictor.

Cassian Xandros had his head buried in his father's chest, clutching tightly to his puppy plushie. The loud noise of the crowd of miners and protesters was clearly frightening him. To be honest, it frightened you too.

These people crowding around you were out for blood. You could sense that if the Peacekeepers weren't keeping them at bay, then the crowd would rush you and your family; tear you apart limb by limb- because they're angry at how they're living compared to how your family's living.

“We'll be at the van soon; then we'll go to the base and won't have to deal with the protestors anymore.” Coryo assured you, keeping a stern look on his face as he led the way towards the van as angry miners and their families shouted profanities. Smiley was up ahead, clearing the way, while the personal guards (peacekeepers) that came on the trip from the Presidential Palace flanked you.

It felt so unsettling, this short walk from the depot to the van that'll take your family to the base. To safety.

It should've been easy to get to the van, considering all the presence of the peacekeepers, but it wasn't. Because nothing in your life, in Coriolanus' life, can be easy.

No….

Because right before you reached the Peacekeepers’ van, the unthinkable happened.

“Should’ve stayed in the Capitol, sellout whore!” You heard your older brother's voice yell before feeling spit land on your cheek.

President Coriolanus Snow should've keep walking, guiding his family thru the crowd to the nearby van, but hearing his brother-in-law call his First Lady a sellout whore made him see red. Made him furious.

Motioning to one of the presidential Peacekeeper guards, Coriolanus ordered, “Arrest that man for assaulting my wife, First Lady Y/N Snow.”

The peacekeeper nodded, only to grab your brother (who put up a good struggle) and cuff him. Your brother was cussing up a storm while the crowd was screaming to let him go, that Rein didn't do anything. The protesters screamed that Rein was innocent; was being falsely arrested by the cruel, dictator President Snow.

But you know what Rein did to cause his arrest. He insulted you and spit in your face. In Coryo's eyes was that assault; something unforgivable.

But the crowd of miners and protesters (some of which were rebels and their sympathizers) didn't see it that way. All they saw was an ‘innocent’ man being carted away.

You don't know how it started, but suddenly people broke thru the lines and tried to swarm you, your husband, and your son. Smiley and your Capitol Peacekeeper guards were beating back the crowd so that your husband could whisk his family to the Peacekeepers van.

And you would've made it to the van unscathed to, if it wasn't for the moltov cocktail that somebody threw at your husband as he ushered you towards the van.

You heard the crash of the bottle and smelted the chemicals before your son's cries of pain sounded out. Turning around, as one of the Peacekeepers by the van shoved you into it, you saw flames licking at your son's back and at your husband's arm. A piece of glass from the broken moltov bottle was embedded in your husband's jaw as blood flowed freely from it.

A pair of Peacekeepers rushed over to your husband, patting the flames out of both his arm and your son's back.

“Daddy, it hurts.” Your son cried, referring to his boiled flesh.

‘Radio the hospital on base, I want the best treatment for my son.” President Snow ordered the peacekeeper that was pushing him towards the van, where you were sitting anxiously.

“Mister President, Sir, we'll get him to the hospital on base right away.” The peacekeeper assured your husband as he joined you in the van.

Coriolanus just nodded at the peacekeeper, causing the man to hop into the back of the van. You and Coriolanus tried your best to soothe your son as the peacekeeper sitting next to your husband barked for the driver to get to base; to radio the on base hospital to let them know that President Snow's son is suffering a burn on his back from the mob’s attack.

Of course, the peacekeeper driving to the base did as he was told. So, when your family arrived at PK Base D12 a stretcher with a medic and a doctor was waiting for your son.

Coryo was holding Cassian’s puppy plushie so hard, you thought the thing’s head was going to pop off and the stuffing would fly out, as the two of you were escorted into your son's hospital room by his attending nurse. His burns weren't bad enough for surgery, but they were bad enough that they needed cleaned, treated with ointment, and bandaged. The nurse explained that Cassian Xandros was asleep due to a dose of morphling he was given for the pain.

Despite him being asleep and on pain meds, you and Coryo just had to see him. Had to sit with him. Your baby boy was hurt, you both needed to be by his side.

Coriolanus might've been a lot of things, but he was a very loving and devoted husband; father. Seeing his son hurt because people didn't like him made him furious. He didn't care if somebody went after him, but going after his family was an entirely different thing.

And those District dogs that wanted prime rib instead of the scraps they got for mining coal all damn day are going to pay. They were going to pay dearly for hurting his son.

Because nobody hurts what's his and gets away with it.

Coriolanus canceled his meetings concerning the mine production, only to have the mine bosses rounded up in the middle of the night and thrown into jail. The reason? Well, they allowed their workers to turn into a violent mob; they didn't keep them in line. 

The President ordered the mine bosses to be executed at the hanging tree for being an accessory to the crimes of their mining employees.

Talk about executions…

President Snow had 100 miners rounded up and sent to the gallows as punishment for what happened to your son. It didn't matter that those people weren't the ones that threw the moltov cocktail. They were disgruntled district 12 citizens. They protested and pushed back; causing a rebellion. 

They're rebels.

Rebels! 

So they had to hang to serve as an example; a lesson on what happens when one goes against the Capitol. Dares to bite the hand that feeds it.

And your older brother, Rein. 

Well…

Your husband's currently having a meeting with him in his jail cell. 

“Heard you hung 100 innocent people.” Rein told Coriolanus as the imposing platinum blonde devil took set a thermos down on the table your brother was chained too.

“Those scum were not innocent. Their little rebellious outburst hurt my son and scared my pregnant wife.” Coriolanus told his brother-in-law, who he hasn't seen in a good 5 years, while taking a seat across from him. “I don't play around when it comes to the safety of my family, Mr. Halvir.” The president told the dark haired man, who had broad shoulders due to years of work in the coal mines, while reaching for the thermos. 

Rein narrowed his Seam grey eyes at President Snow. A man he hates for turning you against your kind, against the district that you were born and raised in. Oh, how your brother hates your husband for being your keeper, for turning you into a Capitol puppet.

Unscrewing the thermos’ lid, Coriolanus made the condescending remark of, “You should know that first hand, considering how I moved Y/N out of your shithole hovel in the Seam once she became mine.” 

“You made her choose between you and us when she was too young to even understand the damning consequences of that choice. I hope your kid brings home somebody you hate; somebody that drives a wedge in your perfectly fucked up Presidential First Family.”  Rein snarled at Coriolanus while the platinum blonde man poured some of the hot tea from the thermos into a plastic cup- that also served as a topper for the thermos.

“Mmm…” Your husband hummed, tasting the tea. “Still hot.” He remarked, setting the tea down in front of your older brother. Gesturing to the plastic cup, Coriolanus simply said, “For you.”

Rein looked between the cup and Coriolanus, only to nod and take it. His chains were long enough to make it possible for him to pick up the cup and bring it to his lips, but short enough to ensure that he couldn't lunge across the table to do the president any harm.

“How's your boy?” Rein asked, sipping on the tea. 

“Why do you care? He's just the product of a Capitol snake and a sellout whore, isn't he?” Coriolanus seethed, hate dripping from every word like venom. Leaning forward, eyes watching the miner intently as he sipped on the tea, he asked, “Do you have any little bastards running around?”

“No.” Rein shook his head. Setting down his cup, he said, “Me and Ashlie decided not to have kids. That it's not worth it, with the risk of reapings and all.”

Coriolanus’ lips twisted into a cruel smile. “Then the Halvir name dies with you.”

Rein's Seam grey eyes flashed with confusion, only for realization to shine in them as he began to feel his throat close up. Clawing at his neck, in a desperate, but useless attempt for air, your brother realized that your husband had poisoned him. He began to feel his blood boil on his body, feel it bubble up from his stomach and travel up his throat. Shaking, he used the last bit of his strength to muster out the word, “Why?”

Coriolanus pulled his handkerchief from his pocket, only to use it to stifle a small, bloody cough. A small side effect of drinking poison, but at least he had taken the antidote prior. He smiled wickedly, a thin layer of crimson staining his teeth, as he told Rein, “Your little stunt caused that crowd to attack me; to hurt my son. Anyone that hurts my family will pay with their lives.” 

Watching the light dim in your brother's eyes as blood pooled uncontrollably from his mouth and nose, your husband leaned over him and whispered, “Snow lands on top.”

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[kiryoutann]

Before reading, please check series masterlist to read the warning(s), disclaimer, and to make sure you’re on the right chapter. Minors do NOT interact.

TRIGGER WARNING: self-harm (reader scratching herself as a coping mechanism to calm her emotional distress).

A foreign language fills your ears, but the high-pitched, rapid sound feels awfully familiar. Your eyebrows furrow in your sleep as you try to make sense of the noise. You blink open your eyelids, your half-conscious mind struggling to piece together the source. Oh, birds. The melodic chorus drifting through the window is a sweet birdsong that rouses you from slumber.

Slowly, you become aware of your surroundings, along with the warm sensation surrounding your naked body. The breath of another person tickles the back of your neck. Bleary eyes flutter open to find yourself nestled in the embrace of a pair of strong arms. Light streams over the corded muscles of his forearms, picking out the golden hairs dusting his skin and his intricate tattoos.

Carefully, trying not to wake him, you twist in his arms and start to slip away. But before your toes can reach the floor, a tug forces you to fall back onto the mattress.

“And where do you think you're going?” He said, rough morning voice rumbles next to your ear.

Simon buries his face in your shoulder, and you laugh at the ticklish stubble grazing your skin. He plants a kiss, turning you to face him.

Gently, you run your fingers through his short locks. "I have practice early, remember?" He acknowledges your comments with a grunt, but remains unwilling to release you. You chuckle lightly, tracing the shell of his ear. “Your hair's gotten longer. Time for a cut, don't you think?”

Simon hummed, nuzzling into your chest. “You should do it. Last time turned out decent enough.”

“Well, first, you’ll have to let me up.”

Once more, you try to slip out of his arms, only for Simon to wrap them around your waist even tighter. He presses his face into your skin again. In this comfortable silence, your eyes become heavy once more. A mischievous voice in the back of your head tells you to go for the phone and call in sick so you can spend the whole day with him. Five more minutes, you tell yourself.

“Stay with me.” His words were muffled, barely audible to you. But, after years of being with Simon, your ears had become accustomed to hearing even his whisper. “Just like this, forever. You think that’s possible?”

Forever. As in: to many more walks and giggles with you, to many more sunrises and sunsets. The image of Simon leaning the ladder against the wall of a remodeled old house, as you directed the picture frame to be set straight. With ballet performances every weekend, and he would come to pick you up in his Ford. And after more years with him, he'll paint the blue you handpicked while his head kept turning in fear that you would enter the fume-filled room.

To stay forever is to outlive the sun. To lie down and be shaded on your lap as he listens to your story.

“It can be,” you whispered, a shy promise but one that you intended to fulfill. Your lips parted again to say the next words, “Fore—”

CLANG!

The crashing sound startles you awake, eyes snapping open only to be greeted by darkness. For a moment, disoriented, you recognize the same bedroom, except for the presence of a certain man behind you. The cold air hits your skin as reality sets in—it was all a dream.

Behind the curtains, the dark sky still stretches; the pale silver light of the moon creeps right into the long hand of the wall clock. It's three in the morning. You sit on your bed, trying to gather more consciousness while listening for any further sounds. When you hear another—this time louder—you immediately jump out of the blanket to check.

The floor lamp in the living room area is on, casting long shadows. But, the rest remains cloaked in nighttime gloom. Glancing around, you nearly let out a scream at the massive figure hovering over the open cabinet.

“Simon?”

Simon stands in the kitchen, peering at you nervously before relaxing his stiff shoulders. You reach over to turn on the light switch. He's holding the dolphin mug you purchased from IKEA with his left hand, and his right hand is stuck in midair.

“Just after some water,” he says, holding up the broken mug in his hand. You glance at the shards of ceramic on the counter, and Simon notices. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. Or break the mug.”

At his explanation, you do a quick scan of him. “Are you hurt?” you ask.

“I’m alright, just clumsy is all.” Simon bends down to pick up his dolphin head piece. He places it on the counter for you to see. “Pity about the mug, though. Dolphin didn’t make it seem.”

You let out a small laugh at his lame joke. Stepping closer to examine the mug, a familiar sweet scent enters your nostrils. You look up at him, noticing that his tall form looks surprisingly put together despite the late hour. His hair is half-damp, having been towel-dried a little before leaving the rest to the air.

“Did you use my shampoo?” you ask.

“Didn’t have much choice, did I?” he says, turning to pick up the broken ceramics on the counter.

When his back is turned to you, you notice more details about him. His shirt, while wrinkled, seems freshly smoothed. And there, on the stool, sits his leather jacket, as if just waiting to be tucked back in at a moment's notice. The two combine and prompt an assumption.

“Are you leaving then?” The question slipped from your lips easily as an eel.

He looks back at you. “Captain needs me back at the base.”

A hollow ache bloomed in your chest at his words. Though separation was expected, some selfish corner of your heart wished to keep him here, beneath your gaze, within the reach of your hand. But, there was always a world to snatch him away—a world he had to save. He would return to being a ghost, coming and going as he pleased through the grip of your fingers.

“A busy man, you are.” Despite the burn, you try to force lightness into your intonation.

Simon huffs out a chuckle, and you consider that your temporary compensation. “Not as busy as you, from the looks of it.” He nods toward the fridge where your scribbled schedule hangs on a magnet.

As he steps past you, your eyes follow his movements. He retrieves his leather jacket from the stool, shrugging into it. Your fingers ache to reach out and smooth the material over his form, but you simply tighten your grip on yourself instead. He searches his pockets; he digs out a cigarette and his black face mask, but a puzzled expression creases his forehead.

“Phone’s missing.” He mumbles, scanning the kitchen and retracing his steps to where he had been standing. Nothing.

You offer, “I could try calling it, if you’d like?”

Simon nods, and you rush to the bedroom to retrieve your own phone from where it’s charging on the nightstand. You’re back at his side in a flash, thumbs dancing to type in the passcode, and you open the call app.

“What’s your number? I’ll ring it so we can hear where it’s hiding.” Your fingers hover eagerly over the keypad as you watch him expectantly.

He rattles out his phone number, and you swiftly tap it in. Your phone starts to dial; the two of you wait in silence, attempting to listen carefully. A muffled ringtone draws both of your attention to the living room, and Simon extends his stride to collect the small device hidden between the couch cushions.

A flip phone. Simon snaps it open to silence the call, and you can't help but note how small it is in his palm. He presses the thin buttons with his thumb, gaze fixed on the retro screen, reading the text message.

"I didn't realize they still make flip phones." You teased.

Slipping it into his jeans pocket, he shrugged. “It gets the job done,” he said. “Lot harder to trace than one of those newer ones.”

“You sound like some wanted criminal on the run.”

“Well, maybe I am.”

Simon turns and fully faces you, locking his gaze on yours. Those brown eyes, deep and intense, hold you captive like the pull of the moon on the tide, like rain on your parched soil. You wish him to stay, to not walk through that door and return to a place where he believed he belonged, so he wouldn't have to get hurt again. So that he wouldn't add more bumps and bruises to his already battered body.

The human heart swells with the desire to be reciprocated for all its longings. The urge to stretch onto your tiptoes and press your lips to his overwhelms you.

But before you could act on it, Simon had put a polite distance between the two of you once more. That moment, whatever it held, was over, and reality had returned to its uninvited seat.

“Best be off then, love.” He said, slipping his mask into place, ready to leave.

“Will I see you when it’s over?” Simon stopped walking when he heard your question. Shifting uncomfortably between your legs, you licked your dry lips. “Your duties, I mean. Do you know when you might return?”

Turning to you once more, he let out a sigh. “Can't say for certain, darling. You know how it is.”

"Will you at least call?" You ask again. “Or text, if you can. You have my number now..."

Simon stared at the distant wall as he considered your request. “Yeah, alright. I’ll send you a text.”

A smile came across your face where hope had once been extinguished. "Okay."

Interpreting your response as the end of the conversation, he turned and headed towards the door. Like fog dissipating into the air, Simon disappeared behind it, leaving no trace except the broken dolphin mug lying discarded in the trash, the only reminder of his presence. You lingered by the door for a while, secretly hoping he would come back, but deep down, you knew he wouldn't be returning anytime soon.

Simon’s disappearance period always leaves a bitter taste on your tongue—a sensation of longing for something that is out of reach.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you drag your feet to tidy up the little messes around you. You straighten the cushions again after fluffing them, then fold the blanket and set it on the sofa arm. Simon must have spent the majority of the night sleeping here. It's baffling that, despite seeing you naked multiple times and uncovering ecstasy-inducing parts of you, the idea of sharing a bed is where he draws the line.

Perhaps it’s the sense of belonging—he doesn’t feel like he deserves to belong on the other side of your bed any more than you do in his arms. If you say you’re not disappointed, you’ll just come off as a big, fat liar.

However, that promise. That first promise he made to you—the “Yeah, alright. I’ll send you a text,” promise that he uttered acted as some kind of hazy, ephemeral illusion that dulled the ache in your heart chambers. You view it as more than an oath—symbolic of something growing strong; roots taking hold. And like a diligent gardener, all you can do is patiently wait.

You drift to the kitchen to continue tidying up. After placing the bottle of bourbon in the cabinet, you return to the stool and shove it under the counter. Glancing around the room, your eyes fix on the spot where, just a few hours ago, you were laying on your stomach with his tongue buried deep inside you.

A secret smile grows across your face, but the warmth that comes with it goes unnoticed as you walk to the bathroom. There’s about three hours until the alarm goes off. You consider making sure everything is in its proper place one last time before going back to sleep.

Taking a deep breath, the scent of your shampoo lingers in the air, and your sight shifts to the shower drain. Bare feet touch the damp tile as an empty thought forms. Though longer than last time, Simon’s hair is still considered short—a military regulation he has to follow—so none could have been caught and tangled there.

The man has been exceptionally dedicated and consistent in never leaving anything behind on his visits other than longing and the need to see him again. It’s silly, sentimental, maybe even pathetic, but the urge to search for crumbs—for even a strand of his blond hair—compels you to kneel and check the shower drain, your hands spreading the grating to verify what your irrational mind has been fantasizing about.

Nothing. There is nothing left behind except a phone number that is certainly inactive most hours and an ever-widening emptiness—as if it's gradually spreading, searching for what once filled it. You feel irritated, almost angry—but you realize that you have chosen this, willingly signing your name and scribbling your signature on something uncertain, something wild that keeps drawing your gaze to the door.

As you rise from your crouch, planning to turn back to the bedroom, something catches your eye in the living room.

There, on the coffee table, sits the ashtray you bought two months ago but never found a use for. Ash scatters the rim in the most unsatisfying manner. But instead of being empty, now in its ceramic bowl are the butts of about three cigarettes. Your breath catches in your chest, and your heart skips a beat. This is clear evidence that Simon was really here.

Your fingers itch to tidy it up, to scrub the ashtray until it sparkles like you always do. Yet another part of you resists. This is the sole memento you must cling to in his absence until he returns to leave more behind. With a last glance, you tear yourself away and rush to your room, leaving them untouched.

“And one, plie… two, tendu to the side… three, rise up… four…”

The coach's count serves as a consistent metronome during morning class, allowing your warm muscles to fall into a familiar rhythm as you flow through the opening combinations. You focus on your reflection in the mirror, striving for perfection in your stance. Lean muscles extend and contract. Your hair is tied neatly back, not a strand daring to escape the tight confines of your bun.

“Thomas, keep those arms rounded; don’t let them drop.” She corrects someone behind you. You take the opportunity to glance at the clock on the wall – ten minutes until class ends and rehearsal begins.

“Claudine, you’re late again. This is the third time this week, you know punctuality is important.”

The coach's scolding causes you to glance around, and you see Claudine murmuring an apology as she rushes to find a spot. She turns her gaze to you, eyes filled with a venomous twist that churns your stomach as she takes up position at the barre next to yours. Determined to keep your focus, you fix your gaze on your reflection in the mirror and the coach's voice in the background.

However, Claudine has a knack for spotting vulnerabilities, even in your attempt to appear emotionless. “How’s Odette coming along? Still not feeling her yet?” she says, voice saccharine.

“It’s fine.” You replied curtly.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice her smile widening, as if she’s found a tender spot to poke with her weapon of choice. “That’s not what I’ve heard from Jacob.”

Jacob. Of course. Your dance partner, and no doubt her latest beau. You blink away the stinging sensation in your eyes, your shoulders heaving slightly in your attempt to take a subtle breath. “I’m working on it.”

Claudine lets out a derisive chuckle as you move through plies and tendus. When your eyes meet in the mirror once more, hers are sparkling with challenge.

“If you can’t cut it, you know I’m always ready to step in,” she turns her head to you, lips curling into a mocking smirk. “All you need to do is say the word.”

Your chest heaves as humiliation climbs up your throat. Before you could form a reply, the coach called an end to the class, announcing a ten-minute break before rehearsal began. With a smug smirk, Claudine's sly eyes returned to you as she pursed her red lips together and blew a parting kiss in the mirror reflection. She swept out of the room with a rustle of tulle and lace. Out of sight. She won the competition of having the last word.

Dancers line the long, dim hallway, lined with doors, as they take this opportunity to rehydrate before diving into another round of rigorous dancing. However, unlike them, it seems you have your own agenda. Instead, you briskly stride towards the restroom, push open the door of one of the empty stalls, and hastily drop your duffel bag on the floor.

Your head is tilted up, and your eyes are blinking incessantly in an attempt to clear your blurry vision. The thumping in your heart persists. Feeling your legs start to buckle, you close the toilet lid and sit down. The grimy bathroom floor tiling is the last thing you want to concentrate on, but anything other than you seems more appealing right now—your way of escaping the awareness of your own existence, of being a being who cannot conform to anyone's expectations, anywhere.

The words uttered by Claudine aren't new; this is hardly the first time another dancer has taken a jab at you. “Robot Ballerina” is a title you’ve been given since you joined, courtesy of the gossipy whispers that trail you wherever you go. It has always been so.

And yet, something has shifted, tearing away the veil that shrouded you, pulling you forcefully out of a long, empty dream. Suddenly, everything is overwhelming, and you become hyper-aware of every stare, every criticism, every scrap of talk thrown from one to another—from your dance partner to the person who could potentially replace you if you still fail to live up to the director's expectations today. One side of your head is throbbing with pain.

Your breath hitches as a sharp pain shoots up the back of your neck. Instinctively, you reach back to massage the area, your fingernails digging into your skin, leaving faint crescent shapes and a momentary calm that smothers the burning sensation within you like water dousing a flame.

In the next second, the turmoil was back under control, and your mind was clearing from the thick red fog. Breathing felt so much easier.

You dig around for your phone in your duffel bag. The screen lights up automatically, and your eyes wander to look for a text message or missed call.

But, of course, there’s nothing. He just left this morning—he couldn't possibly text like he promised in such a short amount of time. You swipe to your call history, his number staring back at you from the brief call you made when he misplaced his phone.

A sigh escapes you. Rehearsal begins in three minutes. You took your duffel bag and rose up. You turned on the faucet and ran water over your hands, scrubbing under your nails to make sure there were no stray bits of peeled skin left underneath.

Casting a final glance at your reflection in the mirror, you swiftly removed the smudge of mascara and tended to a few stray hairs before making your way out and into the rehearsal room.

The same music resounds once more, harmonizing with the same steps. Following your pre-practiced movements, you and Jacob take your own positions. Yet, something about the room feels quieter. As muscle memory guides you through the motions, your mind sinks into a tiny bubble of awareness—of each piano note, of the curl of your fingers coming out with precision, of Jacob’s slender fingers intertwined with yours.

Which then distorted into a pair of calloused hands belonging to someone. Your eyes widen, and you stare right into brown irises shaded by pale lashes.

Simon lifts and spins you through the act, the warmth of his palms sending goosebumps down your vertebra. You let yourself to feel –your lifeless spine arching against him. Higher, he lifts you into the pale light, and you stretch your wings like extensions of his very being. His lips ghost your brow. You feel exposed—an unveiling of a girl with grand, sweet dreams. You twirl like a ballerina in a music box.

A man in love—and like all men in love, Simon took your hand in his as he bent his knees before you. Brown eyes stared at you expectantly; on the tip of his tongue was the sacred confession of his devotion to you.

Your heartbeat thunders as the music swells to a crescendo. The moonlight touches his bottom lip as he sputters out a brave vow. Yet, before you can comprehend the words, a force separates you from him. You feel Simon’s arms loosen reluctantly from you.

Your fingers stretched to their maximum in their attempt to reach for him again, and yet it was all in vain—something was yanking you apart from him, opening up a gaping chasm between you and Simon. Alarms blared in your head. Hopes were starting to rot in the lake, swept away by glittering silver and erased from existence altogether. Know your place, my silly little girl, something seemed to whisper. Who put these sickening ideas in your head? I knew this would happen—this is exactly why I told you to stay where I could watch over you, because I know the kind of girl you are.

Simon persisted in his pursuit, desperation in his eyes. His face was twisted with anguish, body extended taut as if bridging the distance between you two. But you were drawn too far now to return to him. The mocking laughter surrounded you; her cruel voice hissing in your ear.

As if the coalescing of the melodies infuse her with fresh determination, the cruel presence’s hold around your soul tightens, her hold tight and oppressive. Your limbs move of their own accord, stretching out your imitation swan wings. Despite the blurred features, you can sense her satisfied smile. The tug of the puppet master pulls you further from the light, a hapless marionette in its malign grasp. 

In a flicker of a moment, your eyes meet his across—an unconfined determination written on his face. You’re caught like a captive moth on a funeral pyre, your wings aching to be saved. The shadows thicken and thicken. Before you know it, they’re engulfing you.

“Finally! C'est ça que je parle!"

A loud voice snaps you back to reality. You peer up and find Henri's face, his features illuminated by a smile so wide it hurts your jaw. He claps his hands together as he walks towards you.

“This is what I have tried to tell you, non? You BECOME Odette! C’est magnifique.” he gave a hearty cheer, and everyone around him began to clap as well.

But, how?

Almost deriliously, you glance around, half expecting to see Simon standing there, answering confusion. Only Jacob watches you with a small smile that brings a flush to your cheeks. You are flustered, but in a nice way, for the first time. And if Henri is right, then this is a good thing—a major breakthrough.

Henri declares, “Ten minutes break!” as the dancers begin to disperse with chatter. You stagger dazedly towards your water bottle.

The mineral water slides down your parched throat, its slightly salty and earthy taste slowly sharpening your focus. Yet something felt amiss. As you dart your eyes around, first toward Jacob and then toward Henri, you notice the two engaged in an inaudible conversation. Then, Henri catches your gaze and responds with a broad, relieved smile—the first you've seen in a long while. From his expression, it's evident that whatever he's witnessed has pleased him.

A few hours later, the rehearsal is over, and you go through one more routine before calling it a day. Facing the mirror, you relive the results of the previous private coaching, spreading your arms wide imagining wings of feathers flapping from your shoulders.

“Good extension… keep the line… reach further." Your coach’s voice guides you as she scans your form from behind. “Alright, that'll do for today. Keep practicing that fluidity.”

You empty your lungs with a sigh of relief. Turning your head, you walk over to the chair where your duffel bag sits and start gathering your things. Your coach takes out her journal, scribbling a few notes before shoving it back in her tote bag.

“You're getting there, sweetheart. Just need more flow, like the swans in the park. You might need to observe more.” Your coach said from behind.

"Okay," you affirm, placing your water bottle back in your bag and preparing to zip it closed.

“Heard from Henri you finally sorted it.”

You paused, and you turned to face her, finding her gaze fixed on you, waiting for confirmation. For a moment, you considered your response. It felt oddly undeserved, as if the praise was misplaced—because despite Henri's approval, you still weren't certain what had changed, what had “sorted”. This... breakthrough, you couldn't promise it would last.

“Maybe.” You said.

The older woman gave a gentle smile. She walked towards you, giving your shoulder a light squeeze. “You're going to do great things, my darling. Just don't lose what's making this happen, alright? Keep nurturing it.”

Oh.

You try to put on a thin smile. “I’ll try.”

With a casual wave, she takes her leave early, mentioning plans with friends to go out for drinks. Must be nice, you thought. The dance studio falls silent in her absence. Soft evening light filters through the window, gilding the mirrored walls in a mellow glow. Returning to your duffel bag, her voice continues to echo in your mind.

The zipper of your bag remains open, presenting an opportunity to take a furtive peek at your phone, still sitting atop your pouch. The screen is dark and silent—tempting. Infused with agitation, your fingers, almost of their own accord, close around the cool metal. Taking a steady breath, you swipe it awake.

Nothing.

Disappointment settled like a heavy load on your chest, only this time it felt just a touch lighter than the first. The dull ache settled in your heart, teaching it to adjust to his absence, even in something as simple as a text. He's a soldier, not unemployed, you reminded yourself. Another rationalization, another excuse—and what you allow is what will continue.

Slipping the device back into your bag, you shoulder it and flick off the last lights. You walk down the dim, empty hallway, passing slowly through echoing corridors alone. Ahead is the overly familiar, dull street you always take to get to the station. Craving a bit of variety, you decide to grab a coffee before heading home.

But it was the tech store a few blocks away that caught your eye.

The newest models of devices, boasting advanced specifications, gleamed beneath the bright lights. Advertisements for durable aluminum phones with promises of long-lasting performance. However, it was the memory of Simon's voice that held your interest instead. The things he had mentioned about his flip phone—how it was harder to track, harder to find.

He's not wrong, of course. New technology offers possibilities—subtle ways of leaving breadcrumbs.

And you, like a hungry pigeon, are eager to follow every trail you can unearth.

You take a deep breath, firming your determination, then stride towards the shopfront. The employee greets you with a sour face—a long day at work, you assume. No matter. Your mind is made up. It'll be a swift transaction.

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