#just know he’s even better than your imagination can concoct

[wonryllis]

watermelon sugar (m) | sim jaeyun.

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗻 𝘀𝘂𝗴𝗮𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁?

preview. he’s the sweetest to you, one might confuse him for your boyfriend, but he’s not, he just your fuckboy of a roommate who treats you like a delicate candy, always looking out for you and never at you; or so you think.

or where, jake can't seem to get you off his mind no matter how hard he tries.

meet the cast. simp sim jaeyun(jake) with his obsession fem!reader

genre. and they were roommates trope, fuckboy soft for his girl trope, SMUT MDNI!!!, lots of toothrooting fluff, tiny speck of angst but not proper angst, drunk confessions?, only one who can control him/her trope, happy happy ending, crack/humor, domestic scenes(newly added) college fuckboy athelete roommate!jake with his candy!roommate girl. computer science & programming major!reader, exercise physiology major!jake, nonidol!au, soccer player!jake.

word count. 13,488 unedited! it's word vomit.

warnings. fingering, dry humping, dirty talkkk lots and lots of it, nasty freak jake with innocent(seems to be) girlie, experienced x inexperienced(virgin but has idea), pussy slapping, somewhat drunk sex but there's consent consent, oral (m rec.) different scenes, p in v (unprotected! but pls pls pls do not do this ever use protection!!!!!) multiple orgasms (f.rec), overstimuation(f.rec) and somewhat (m.rec), spitting? slight nipple play, jake is rough and filthy, with heavyyyyy corruption kink it's all throughout the story, strength kink, size difference “i worship the ground you walk on” energy but still dominant jake, jake has soooo many dirty inner thoughts about you it's innumerable. he's a simp for you so you're a slut for him— i guess that's them?

theme song. animals by maroon 5 (jake pov), into you by ariana grande (yn pov)

﹙★﹚ ࣪DRABBLES (find them here)

` author notes. im sorry for making you guys wait three extra weeks I hope y'all still want to read this,, what do i say it was so horrible before the revamp, thankfully it's so much better now and the smut god, it was so hard to write it i hope it's good enough. REBLOGS AND FEEDBACKS ARE HIGHLY ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED!!

“i don’t mind this feeling.”

YOU DONT KNOW WHAT TO CALL IT, WHATEVER IS HAPPENING BETWEEN YOU BOTH, BUT YOU LIKE IT. IT FEELS SILLY AND FRAGILE AND GOOD. perhaps a little too good.

god forbid what you had done in your past life to get a roommate like jake, a complete package; a concoction of all classic kinds of roommate one could possibly expect. you aren’t complaining though he takes care of you in every way he possibly could. making you feel like his entire world revolves around you, from his time home to the hours he spends on the field. one would ask anything of him and his answer would surely include you in one way or another, everyone knew it, everyone could see it, the way he feels.

he makes you breakfast, he helps with the cleaning- you both actually have it planned to have a cleaning day every week to polish the apartment. he cooks for you and he does the dishes more often than not, the only exception being the time when you insist deathly on doing it yourself because come on you gotta do at least some thing around the house.

to add to the perfect mixture of god gifted man, he video games in his room with the door shut so that the sound of him shouting at the screen doesn’t disturb you. does the laundry- even your bras and underwear, he’s just too used to those clothings to give a care to get embarrassed (outwardly). he would never admit the way they get him all hot and bothered when he thinks of all the places those fabrics have touched. how wild his imagination runs and all the things he wishes he could do to you. all the sounds he could get, out of you and all the things you'd taste of.

you are his candy (well not exactly ‘his’ but according to him this nickname of yours is only and I repeat only reserved for him) literally because you are all over sweets all the damn time and figureratively because he’d die to have a taste of you; the forbidden fruit of his life, too innocent for a person like him to ruin. but lord would he give up everything to land a chance to lay his hands on you not so innocently.

this man does not give a fuck about who is not you, and maybe occasionally spare a care for his two best friends who so far have only been blessed enough to know your name because jake has made it clear that you're off-limits and if they ever dare to do anything given the opportunity he'd rip off their balls and feed it to ducks (he's serious he swears)

getting to the real point of your dynamic: the only drawback— jake sim is a renowned fuckboy on campus, the heartbreak prince and you, his miss americana as they all like to call it. it is a daily routine, having to find a new girl in the house and ofttimes hearing them even with your door closed and your hands pressed on your ears. at first it felt disgusting, then you got used to it, and now very recently you’ve been feeling weirdly dejected. a certain kind of hatred towards the girls, something you can’t pin point exactly to why and what it is.

“candy, my laptop broke down again!” jake's raspy voice dances through the little cracks of the bathroom door as you prepare for a quick shower. you sigh, tightening the towel wrapped around you before stepping out. a short knock at his batman poster door left ajar, and he's whipping his head to have a look at you as if he knew you'd be in the middle of washing up. a little secret, yes he knew because everytime ahead of bathtime you make sure to have a sip of your watermelon slush stack from the fridge and the sound of it's door reaches his room just right to let him know.

he remains seated on his bed, a sheepish smile on his face. your eyes fall at his desk to see his laptop closed, he tricked you, and like always you fell for it,“maybe if you used your school laptop to study instead of playing games on it, this wouldn't happen all the time. but i assume you probably did it to get me here, it’s not gonna work everytime yun,” you click your tongue in feigned annoyance making him grin wider,“well it does work everytime though,” he knows how to have you on his tail just like you know how to have him wrapped around your finger. it only seems fair, you both know what gets the other going and you use it to your advantage.

“what is it?” asking in a sing song tone, you plop down on his desk chair. spinning in rounds with your legs out swinging, hands gripping onto the arms of the chair while looking up at the phosphorescent glow-in-the-dark stickers you had forcefully put up on the ceiling of his room. a funny memory of jake trying to stop you because it would defeat the whole image of his room only to fold when you gave him the puppy doe eyes, baby talking that you really wanted to do it. it doesn't take much to have jake cave in, just one look from you and the boy is a flatline. fuckboy? he is that to everyone but to you he's practically whatever you want him to be, though you have never really had a talk about it.

“actually eunsang, she-” there is a hesitation is his tone you are well aware of, having almost a clear idea of what he's about to say,“i told- no warned you not to get involved with her for a second time, didn’t i?” you scold, feeling that little twinge of hurt knowing he probably will keep on being involved with girls like this no matter what you say. it's the one thing where you don't have him under your spell. or that's you think, i mean you you have no idea do you of how much he wants you. just like how you have no idea how much you want him.

“yes but it happened and now she’s after me all the time, she even showed up to my soccer practice yesterday! please just this one time, please help me get rid of her,” clamping together his hands in a plea, jake pouts as best as he can, giving you his puppy eyes. but when you don’t show a reaction of any sort he resorts to the next best guaranteed thing: bribery,“i’ll buy you tons of watermelon lollipops! from your favorite brand that too!” eyes sparkling with hope and expections of having you fall for it, like you do every single time, he waits. albeit patterns break, in everything and everyone.

“no, i’m on a diet. i gave up on sweets, what if i get diabetes? will you,” you point at him dramatically,“take responsibility?” to which his stance morphs into one of stunned. he would gladly take responsibility for you at any given chance, but it's one of more gravity and significance than diabetes. and he's sure he's not one you should be in care of as more than anything that you are right now. he's too corrupted and you are too naive.

“yes of course i’ll help you take your meds and-” he mumbles in a quick, hurried note aware that you’ll not let him answer if he’s not fast enough. you still beat him to it though, speaking loud over and above his voice, to drown out his words despite hearing them quite clearly,“will you? NO you will not! so let me just shower peacefully before i get the urge to lock you in the bathroom when you’re in there later,” with a silence after, one that has jake grinning again at your cuteness, you take it as a que to rush out swiftly. trying to make it to the bathroom before he decides to use his strength against you and hold you down wherever he wants. which though hasn't been often, has always left you breathless and flustered to a point you refuse to admit.

training to become an athlete, a buff center forward in comparison to you who barely puts effort into doing even a little bit of yoga once a month. it’s obvious he’ll have you give in if he wants but he’s too sweet to force you. and of course it's obvious, the tension of the strength kink that looms over in the room.

it comes as a shock to you when the next day, the first thing you see waking up in the morning and walking into the living room: is eunsang standing by the kitchen counter. and important point: clad in one of jake’s dress shirts that you recognize from doing his laundry occasionally, pouring herself a glass of water. oh you had to see this coming, this is jake we're talking about will be really ever like ever not bring over girls? no matter if they're clingy or not. the answer is ambiguous and definitely not to your favor.

she’s shares a small smile upon noticing you, a friendly smile which you know is obviously fake. she’s doing it just to look good and polite in jake’s eyes. just to show that she's not bothered by you, because as said everyone knows if they don't like you then they automatically are on jake sim's blacklist. and being the star player of the team, his acquaintance is more or less influential to a large extent, so note to be taken be nice to candy to not be on the cross out list.

however as sad as it is to say it’s of no use. she’s not even there in his eyes to begin with. the moment the jake comes out of his room, his field of vision doesn’t include her. passing by her very visible figure like she’s a microscopic bug to ruffle your hair in a dotting manner, his morning voice coming out in an adoring essence,“good morning, candy,” he smiles and scrunches up his nose when he notices the baby cat you both adopted last month, curled up in the corner of the couch,“and mei,” he acknowledges your pet kitty but not the girl he brought home, that should speak volumes to you, jake thinks. treating you like candy of his world you are, shouldn't that be the ultimate giveaway of his feelings? like even his hookups can see how down bad he is for you why is it that you're the only one who can't? he wants you to know but at the same time he feels he's not right for you, a dilemma he handles by fucking up over and over again.

wishing him morning in response you give him a look which silently delivers your question of what is going on. you did hear them last night (more like her), but you didn’t know it was her her. you weren’t even expecting her to be the one. after the conversation with jake yesterday, she was the last person you would have ever assumed. he sends you a flying look that he’ll explain everything later, shushing you off before you speak out loud.

“yunie,” your ears perk up at her voice, eyes narrowing in a deadly stare at the nickname you exclusively call him with, leaving her crusty mouth. certainly, like jake you blossom a definite possession over names too. perhaps it's the effect of living with him 24/7 but you seem to have picked up a lot of his antics.

jake’s eyes shift to look at you for a moment and then he’s running a hand through his hair, dropping his sweet conduct to get back into his usual cold fuckboy self. he absolutely does not like the way your brows turn down and the pretty smile you were previously adorning for him falling off your pretty lips. he can tolerate anything but seeing you bothered in any way. “you’re still here? it's better if you leave soon, candy doesn’t like all this,” walking around her to the other side of the counter and into the kitchen to open the upper cabinets, jake ignores her like a plague as if he wasn't showing her heaven last night. but alas, nothing comes above you, she should have known that.

“what do you want for breakfast candy? should i make you some toast? or do you want your usual dose of sugar?” his palms rest on the granite countertop, leaning against it slightly while turning to fix his gaze on you. it makes eunsang rage with anger, throwing you a demeaning look before she disappears into jake's room.

the moment his bedroom door closes, you feel the unfamiliar weight on your shoulders relax a tad bit,“my watermelon slush please,” finding your cozy spot on the kitchen counter, you give him your most adorable pout feeling like you had to gain back his warmth after the hookup. your legs dangle over the height between, toes softly brushing against jake's calves every two seconds. watching him prepare your drink, you decide to voice out the thing that had been disturbing since the moment you walked out your room,”did you like make a friends with benefit kind of arrangement or something?” it comes out in a low whisper, afraid if you said it too loud it'd come true. the thought of it disturbs you for some reason, it’s not new for you to see random girls in your apartment; or to hear them while they’re at it. yet it still gives you a sort of uneasy feeling, something you do not like feeling.

“it was a last time kind of deal actually,” he stops briefly to give you a quilty smile. finishing your sweet slushy just as eunsang hastily steps out, wearing what you assume her clothes from the previous night. she slows down to observe as jake hands you the cup, repulsively watching you take a sip,“is it good?” hearing him speak in a tone way different than the one she’s acquainted with him using with her has stomp her way out in a grumpy fit.

looking up from the edge of your cup with hopes to give her a sly stare, your eyes follow her figure, flinching silently when she bangs the door close harshly,“bitch,” you comment, hooded orbs shifting back to jake who scowls in disapproval,”language candy,” he reminds, knowing very well it does nothing to stop you.

“sorry yunie but she's so agressive, and for what?” you whine.

“from what i’ve seen, you’re way more aggressive,” jake laughs softly, index finger coming to poke at your cheek tenderly.

with full cheeks, you grin like a cheshire cat and jake feels his heart rate speeding up, who gave you the permission to be the cutest person he's ever known? the urge to kiss you just keeps growing with each passing day and with with each little sneaky smile and doe eyes you give him.

“we need to get the groceries this week, i have after classes soccer practice for the next four days and we're not gonna last that long,” the thought of spending the next four evenings alone in the unit is gloomier than the half assed ham and cheese toast jake makes for himself. if only you said yes to some proper breakfast, his taste buds and stomach wouldn't be suffering so much.

you nod as if he has eyes on his back, knowing well he's gonna want you with him but not force you, if you'd say no. whatever you want, is whatever he does.

“‘m gonna go take a shower first then,” hopping down, you place your empty mug in the sink, and skip to your room to take your bath supplies.

“let’s shower together,” jake's friskiness thrives in the way he shouts with an undertone of mischief. watching you with a teasing gaze as you step out the threshold of your bedroom door. a tiny smirk spreading onto his lips when you scrunch your nose in a grimace. cute, he mouths thinking you wouldn't notice but god you do. he's clearly joking but you can’t help feeling flustered internally. keeping up with his flirty and touchy stunts and tricks should have made it easier for you by now, but over a year in and you're yet to find yourself getting used to it. he’s too attractive and hot to get used to; at least that’s what excuse your brain gives you, which honestly is true to some extent. his looks score a lot of points and you can't deny that.

“and if we get locked in there, who’s gonna get us out? you know the door lock has problems,” you complain in a soft groan which, in his eyes is more adorable with the little annoyance you show. if you think you could ever intimidate him, you probably will because he'll melt right away to even think of a counter back.

his stance straightens at that, a fleeting look of flabbergast clouding his face before he’s breaking out in a taunt of smile, eyes closing in on you in a brazen look,“so does that mean if the lock was fine you’d actually shower together with me,” he feels this triumph of emotions, a sudden rush of sugar at the realization that'd probably maybe perhaps someday let him get in the shower together with you. the sheer excitement he experiences through his veins is over the roof, just the possibility of something so intimate with you is a bite of golden spoon for him.

he purposely stops all he’s doing to stare at you, moving his eyebrows cheekily, trying to provoke you,“i never said that,” you stick your tongue out at him, closing the door in a soft slam and crying out a ‘you’re sick in the head!’

“only for you!” jake yells back, chuckling to himself as he leaves the room.

two hours later you’re both strolling through the isles of shelving, bright florescent lighting, end displays of popular products, sale signs, banners with store mottoes, isle signs with product locations, rows and rows of household products and everything you'd always spend lots of time looking through until jake has to drag you back home.

he pushes the cart while you look around for items to throw in and cross out one by one from your checklist. the way you both discuss and bicker over what to keep in the cart and what not to every two minutes will lead any sane person to conclude you as a couple. you both would also admit it feels as such. how he insists on taking what you like while you argue that you’re on a diet and need to cut down on the consumption and desires of your sweet tooth. it feels sweet, he feels sweet. and you make him want to coddle you so bad, like what do you mean you're on a diet? you're perfect already. too perfect for him.

“i’m taking the pop tarts!” you hear him shout from two or probably three Isles away while you look through some new make up launches,”…okay fine!” capturing the attention of an old couple who glance at your way and mutter something you don’t quite catch but you assume it’s probably about how annoying you both are, shouting at the mart.

“yunie look these are so pretty,” you point at the line of lipgloss as jake comes over with cart. he hums in agreement, watching you scan through the shades in an animated mood, mumbling over the names and speaking of how it'd look good for an everyday look or with summer dress you recently got. oh how smitten he feels, observing the way you seem so pumped up simply over gloss.

“there's no mirror— “

“try it on me,” oh he's bewitched under your spell.

jake stands still as you apply the mauve on him, staring at you through hooded eyes,”oh, this one’s really pretty on you!” you beam, looking up at him as if he could see it too.

“it'd look prettier on you,” he's hardly able to whisper out, gaze trained on the way you part your lips while you wipe it off his and apply another. if he didn't have a strong self control, by now he would have shoved his tongue down your throat in the dirtiest and messiest kiss you'd ever known. knocking your breath out, as well as his. he's already on the verge of losing it with every little touch you leave on his lips, wetting your own as a habit.

“which one should i take?” you ask something cutely, jake almost feels guilty for the thoughts swimming in his head.

“i’ll buy all of it for you, we can do something like a chapstick challenge you know. the one where you kiss and guess the flavor,” he teases loving the tiny exasperated glare you throw him. “yunn, be serious! which one?”

“these two?” he points to ones you commented were pretty feeling impatient at the conjured up image of you wearing the colors on with you tiny, sexy little sundresses you got hidden in your closet. please feel guilty man he thinks.

in the end jake (successfully) convinces you to continue your diet later over the summer break offering to help you with it. and grabs a bunch of packets of your favorite snacks, your favorite brand’s watermelon lollipops and not to forget the fruit itself. checking all out he insists on carrying everything himself, only handing you the little bag that held your lollies in case you'd want one on the way back.

the subway is more crowded than usual, scarcely any seat left. it takes you a whole minute to scan around for an empty one, immediately encouraging jake to take it. a silly game of rock paper scissors to decide who stands, insisting firmly that he sit when you end up winning. the grocery bags rest by his foot and you stand between his legs, holding onto the bar wobbling every now and then. it’s just one stop left when jake suddenly pulls you onto his lap, adjusting you comfortably on his thighs and placing his hands on your legs possessively. you turn to look at him, lashes brushing against his skin and lips parting in the slightest at the adrenaline you feel pumping into your fast beating heart. the muscles in his chest feel firm at the faint touch of your back against him, the thumping of his own heart similar to that of yours.

he leans closer to whisper in your ear,“that creep right there kept staring you up and down,” pointing with a discreet move of his eyes as he drills holes through his stern gaze fixed on the said guy. you on the other hand, grow hot with irritation, perhaps just as hot and bothered you are feeling jake pressed so close. an abrupt and sharp impulse of anger.

“i’ll show him the fuck he was staring at," you mutter out, teeth gritted, and hands almost forming into fists, expression as innocent as always. jake seems to catch on to what you’re about to do and before you can get up from lap, his hold on you gets tighter,"okay, i know you hate this candy, but i don’t want you getting hurt in any way, if he does anything i’ll make sure to set him right, for now i think he got it that he’s not gonna stare at you however he wants,” hand grabing yours in gentle caresses along the expanse of your arm. delicate and slow like a soothing rub. his touch just as enticing and stimulating it is, is also calming, knowing exactly how to pacify your hot headedness. jake finds that really hot about you, the way you look like you couldn't harm a bug but he's seen you throw kicks and punches (for the right reasons) ‘looks like a cinnamon roll, could kill you’ he never knew that's his type. sometimes and really only some rare times he wonders if you're not as innocent as he thinks you are, getting rock hard at the thought of it, dick twitching multiple times imagining you saying and doing things that an angel like you shouldn't be.

for the rest of the ride he manages to lull you back to your sweet candy mode, making you laugh at his lame pick up lines, and occasionally tickling your sides. head falling back into his shoulder in cute giggles and hips rolling on him, damn only he knows how bad he's holding back. as shameless as he is he'd probably jump your bones right infront of everyone to see. thankfully you bring the decency in your relationship.

when your stop comes, he intertwines his fingers you as you walk out the compartment, just in case you decide to give the dude a slap before leaving.

“'m gonna flatten out all your abs today, you'll need to gym again,” jake chuckles, feeling you roll over his body like mei’s lint roller as he lays on your favorite fluffy kuromi rug typing away on his laptop an essay deadlined for tomorrow. the weight of your body on and off and the touch of your hot skin he feels funsies,“you do this all the time, candy and my abs have never left. how can i let them? knowing how much you love it,” reaching behind to hold you still on his back. you are glad he can't see the way your cheeks warm up at that, a bashful look on your face remembering all the times he's caught you ogling at his body.

“why are you sulking?” he asks when you don't respond with a whine like you usually do. aware that you behave this way either when you’re over the top bathing in happiness or dissatisfied with something.

“’m gonna gain weight now because of you, i’ll see all the snacks and sweets in the pantry and not be able to resist binge eating,” you lightly punch at the curve of his shoulders, dropping your head into the crook of his neck in a pout. jake turns around swiftly to hold you in a hug, wanting nothing more than to cheer you up,“i love your belly anyhow, whether it’s visible or not,” giving the plump flesh of your stomach a zephyr-like pinch. you wince playfully drawing back inches to tease him only to drop down into his arms to hug him back seconds later,“yeah whatever,” his words make you feel butterflies, a turmoil of frenzy and fuzzy feelings, cheeks growing warm once again, and the warmth spreading all over your mind this time. why does he have to be so sweet to you?

you both stay like that for a while breathing slowly, and taking in the comfort of a hug, the room saturated with a restful and serene silence. you’re the first to pull away,“you should finish that essay, i have to prepare for my test next week,” jake groans at the loss of your touch, wailing out with his hands as you leave the room.

”i’m joining you as soon as i finish this!”

four days later on the weekend, you sit on the couch alone, wrapped in the thin lilac charmeuse blanket jake got for you (he said it the softness of it, reminded him of you.) waiting for your him to join you. eight in the morning with ‘tangled’ running on the tv, it's not something jake would ever want to do, but he gives in because you like it; bonus sometimes when you get a little sleepy, he grabs the chance to cuddle you as close as he can, leaving a few fluttering kisses on your temple and cheeks. he's grateful you never say anything about it and just let him be.

“yunie, can you pass me the watermelon in the fridge? the one from yesterday,” you spare a quick glance towards jake as he walks out his room. his headset rests loosely around his neck, half naked, wearing only a pair of sweatpants and his black hair all dishevelled: looking even more messier due to the perm he got last week. “yeah sure,” the rasp in his voice as he mumbles out softly gives away the fact that he probably stayed up all night again.

taking the half a piece of watermelon out and grabbing a spoon, jake scoops out a small little portion. going up to your slouched figure on the couch, and extending it out for you to eat,“here you go, candy,” he does it quite often, infact he loves to feed you. seeing your cheeks full and your eyes sparkling makes him feel fond as much as it turns him on. picturing you the same way on your knees between his legs with his dick stuffed in your mouth. choking and gagging on him, tears dropping down your pretty eyes while you stare up at him with this same doe look. it'd be heaven. even more so if he would have to teach you how to do it right, further fueling the massive corruption kink he seems to have harboured after meeting you.

he passes you melon after you take the bite, sitting beside you with his legs crossed. eyes trained on the way you fill in more in your mouth than you can handle, face all round and full,”eat slowly,” he flicks at your forehead.

“do you want to go buy a new sofa at ikea tomorrow? this one’s pretty small,” he adds a minute later, raising his brows subtly.

“well, first of all i didn’t plan to have a roommate and secon- i swear if it’s for your hook-ups i’m kicking you out!” it comes out in a yell, voice raising with every syllable before you spit a seed at him. one that due to your bad aiming skills instead of landing on his face, falls and sticks to the skin of his chest. damn those muscles they get you feelings things you probably shouldn't be.

putting away the watermelon on your tea table, you pick up mei and settle her on your lap, pulling back your blanket which had slipped off in a crackle of laughter,“this is public space have some decency before you have such thoughts!”

“stop making me appear like a horndog!” he laughs along, whinning at your false accusations in giggles and a look of faux disbelief.

“well that is exactly what you are!” you throw the closest cushion at his face. grinning with your signature cutesy doe eyes and jake is a goner. he always is.

“no don't do this me,”

“change the sheets then, it's your turn this week,” turning away from him, you fix your eyes on rapunzel climbing down the tower. trying to avoid the way he stares at you with betrayal, immediately scooting over to tickle you.

“you cheeky liar it's your turn,” his hands glossing over your ticklish areas.

“i love you,” in a fit of uncontrolled giggles, you shout. pushing against him to escape only to have your wrists pulled away, held together in a tight grasp and pinned above your head. “candy! i love you is not gonna get you out of chores come on i'll help you. we'll watch tangled later. together, i promise,” his laughter dies down with every word he utters, whispering out the last part as he becomes aware of the proximity between you two. so close you both think, breaths slowing down and heartbeats picking up the pace with each passing second.

“we're doing this okay?” jake whispers again, albeit, his tone a tad bit more heavy and bothered. an ambiguous daze clouding over, as if he is talking about something entirely different than just changing sheets. a twinge of lust bubbling inside. having you under him like this makes him realize just how desperately he wants you, and how bad his strength kink blooms for you. to have you whimpering and moaning, gaze all hazy as you let him do whatever he wants with you. damn he feels his dick twitch at that, gulping nervously hoping you wouldn't notice.

“you look like eugene,” you mumble out suddenly and jake feels his thirst rise off the roof, because the size difference between the characters? he wouldn't deny he thought of you the first time he saw the animation. wanting you have you in his arms the same way.

“then you must be my rapunzel,” you feel even more flustered if that's possible, your stomach twisting and twirling at his words until,”now come on we gotta keep the house clean for mother gothel,” jake let's his grip on you loosen, taking a moment to get off you.

“yunie!”

“i'll make you some sweet soy-glazed potatoes too later,” he voice drowns out as he enters you bedroom first.

“well i guess it's okay then,” you giggle following after him.

“candy that's not how you tuck in the corners,” jake scolds you for nth time, running after you to fix the edges you mess up deliberately time and again. “hey! candy! get down!” you make it a chaos for him, jumping onto the unmade bed and messing up the sheets all the way.

“oops,” there's a devilish grin on your face as jake pauses to watch you have your sugar rush episode.

“if you wanna wrestle again and end up under me, just say so,” he teases, inching closer and grabbing you by the waist. you both laugh again as if you weren't dripping with need for each other just moments ago. he picks you up and walks to the door putting you down by the sill,”i seriously need to get this done, you go and peel the potatoes for me,” you can't cook for the sake of god and letting you use knives is like a deathwish, jake can only hope peeling will keep you busy and safe enough to not end up with cuts anywhere.

the doorbell rings just as you step into the kitchen, walking back to the front in a sluggish sigh. feeling utter regret for answering the door, the instant you notice the figure outside. not wanting to reveal the presence to jake, you shut the door behind.

he peeps out your room at the sound of it, shrugging it off as nothing because you’ve done it lot many times: when your friends show up because you simply don’t want them to fall under his radar as prey.

you spare an indifferent glance at the way eunsang stands tall; hands folded with a cocky look on her rather gorgeous face. she's a beauty and you hate to admit that, a vibe so opposite of you it makes you insecure considering jake's hooked up with her more than a few times. “i’m here to see jake,” she states, tilting her head to point over at the closed door, all the sugary honeyed act she keeps up around him nowhere to be seen.

“and he doesn’t want to see you, didn’t he tell you it was the last time,” you counterattack, folding your arms and straightening up to look intimidating. your stare is one of taunt, carrying a gaze of boredom in hopes to establish that you're one to reckon with.

“are you jake? i said i want to talk to jake not you,” her heels click in impatience and underlying disgust in the tone she uses with you gets on your nerves.

you close your eyes for a moment trying to calm the annoyance in you before it turns into anger, tongue poking at the side of your cheek, “and are you deaf? i said he does not want to talk to you,” assert dominance, assert dominance you repeat over and over in your head.

but what she says next makes you lose your temper.

jake, the very epicenter of it all, on the other hand has no idea of what's going on outside until there's a scream that sounds too much like you, one turning into many more. it's frantic and inhumane, the speed at which he runs out. dropping everything and anything. there in broad daylight he finds you and eunsang trying to rip each other's hair out in the thankfully empty hallway. he doesn't know if he should be worried more about your scalp hurting or your throat tearing from how loudly you scream over eunsang. his hands flail as he contemplates on breaking the fight or letting you calm down, which you probably won't as he knows. he grabs onto eunsang's hands on your head trying to loosen her grip on your hair, concerned over the pain you must be feeling while you're there now trying to kick her between her legs. she's shocked to say the least, watching him latch you off her in a swift motion and throw you over his shoulder. he takes you back inside quickly, groaning at your fists pounding against his back in a protest,”fucking let go of me! i’m gonna give her a good piece of my mind!”

“candy language!” putting you down by the kitchen softly, he grasps the side of your arms and forces you to look into his eyes,“stop fighting all the time, stay here i’ll talk to her, okay?” he speaks slowly as an attempt to calm you. when you wiggle off in a scornful shrug, he asks again, this time moving to cup your face, a tender look in his eyes,“okay?” you nod in a defeated sigh and he's out the door before you can say anything else. you're upset, really upset, you know what you did outside was not decent yet you can't get over the fact that he left you in here to go back to talk to her. he was on your tail last week trying to beg you to help him get rid of her and even shooed her out the unit harshly, what more is there to talk about?

truth to be told, this was how he first met you, or should he say saw you. it was the move in day, he had all the necessities for the week packed in a travel suitcase, with the other stuff to be brought in later on. he was waiting for the elevator in the lobby, more tense and anxious than ever to meet the girl he was going to be living with a good four years of his college life. hoping she'd not treat him like some stranger, or be someone impossible to get close to hash live with. along with little bits of curiosity and hopes again, that she'd be a pretty and sweet girl maybe someone help could form some kind of benefits with.

however never in a million years did he ever expect it to be the cute yet fierce girl in the elevator. to say he was flabbergasted would be an understatement, he was literally blown off his feet, scared or impressed, his confusion was massive. when the doors of the elevator had opened he had found you slapping a middle aged man,”fun? you think groping my butt ‘s fun, you sicko,” kicking him in the balls next. hard. jake had gulped at that, hard. heart on a pause. the look of feigned innocence on your face as you did all that. damn jake swears it was that moment he fell. maybe not romantically but you definitely got his dick hard.

you looked super cute, and you knew how to fight, jake thought he hit the jackpot when you turned out to be his roommate. pretty you were, definitely, and sweet wasn't even a question; you were sweet to him and you are a lot of sweet. the only thing that remains a mystery till now is if you'd taste as sweet. jake hopes he can find that out.

he returns a few minutes later, lips pursed in a small smile as he shuts the front door. it grows even wider when his eyes find you,“so your soy glazed potatoes,” he chuckles walking over to the kitchen and getting other things out.

“she called me a slut for living with a guy like you and i was in the midst of giving her a lecture on actually how good of a person you are-” you bang on the counter with a thud and turn around to face him,“and you dragged me in!” whinning in a pout that looked as upset as your furrowed brows.

jake glances over in amusement, halting to give you another grin as he boops your nose gently,“my darling candy, i’m only good to you,” the glare you throw his way only makes him snicker with adoration. the little flicker of bashfulness you feel making you break out in a smile which (thankfully, for you) jake doesn't notice.

“whatever, i’m gonna take a long shower. do not disturb me!” you leave in a rush afraid if you stay too long he'd see it all on your face.

ten minutes later, as you tiptoe to get your favorite shower gel from the shelf above the mirror, luck decides to remind you why you shouldn't ever stay away from jake sim. feet slipping on the wet floor, body colliding against the cold tiles in a thud loud enough to have jake come running.

“candy, you're okay? what happened? should i open the door? ‘m coming in,” his voice is laced with worry, snapping open the door to find you laying flat down, though to his relief not unconscious. he picks you carefully, bringing you to your room and seating you on the edge of the bed to check for any injuries. hands delicately caressing all over and asking if it hurts any where,”you're so clumsy, always getting me worried like shit,”

“language,” you giggle, trying to make him laugh and it works.

“sorry, just please be careful, okay?” his fingers brush back your hair as you give him a small nod,“do you feel pain anywhere?” another nod, and this one ticks his alarms.

“where!” your fingers reach out to press against the brooding crease between his brows, attempting to remove the frown from his face. and jake melts at that, feeling his heart flutter at your cuteness, god he loves this side of you so much.

“you little demon, look what happens if you don't shower with me,” laughing out together, oh how he wishes it were like this forever. and jake sim has never thought of a forever ever before.

a month passes by in the blink of an eye, your routines and relationship staying the same as always, classes, his soccer practice and your weekly cleaning day. but what seems to have changed is his routine of bringing over girls, the number alarmingly cutting down day by day (which currently sits at zero) and what you haven’t noticed- his display of affection towards you growing more and more. yet you think nothing special of it, assuming that perhaps now he got a grip over himself. which is partially true. jake thought of you as deserving someone better, so it was only right that he became better. and what better way than to start with quitting the position of campus’ resident fuckboy.

after an all nighter the previous day, coming back from your classes you get straight to bed. changing you clothes and getting tucked under the blanket from around eight in the evening. jake returns from his soccer practice later, unaware of the fact that you're already passed out. opening your door to let you know of his night out plans,“candy, i’m gonna go out with jay and sunghoon! make sure to have your dinne- oh you were sleeping? i didn’t know i’m so sorry candy,” he mumbles out in a soft whisper towards the end, supressing a smile watching your sleepy figure under the covers. trying to rub out the drowsiness from your eyes; heavy blinking and a small pout, his cute girl.

“it’s okay no need to get up, go back to sleep, i’ll be back in the morning,” approaching the bed as you lay back down, he pats your head in a 'sleep well’ before leaving.

it's probably past midnight when you wake up to constant ringing of calls. fumbling around for your phone in a daze only to find a dozen calls from an unknown number and a bunch of texts from the same. it's jay, asking you to get jake from the bar they're at. saying the guy's refusing to go back with anyone that's not you: whining for your presence and making it hard for his two friends.

'where is my candy?’ jay and sunghoon are sick and tired of hearing it all night.

by the time you get him back to the apartment, it's three and your bones hurt from the weight of his body leaning all over you. it doesn't help that all he does is giggle and throw himself over you. there's been a lot of times you have seen him drunk, probably more than a dozen, but he's never looked as wasted as today. sunghoon told you it's because he drank way more than usual, and unbeknownst to you that you are the sole reason, you wonder of the things that plague his mind to the extent of drinking so much.

dragging him into his room you have him sit on his bed, going through his closet and getting him a pair of sweatpants and the first shirt you can grab. “come on yunie, get changed,” you hand him the clothes, turning away when he takes everything off nonchalantly. even though he likely would rather want you to look, from the many times he's said it before ‘why’re you looking away, candy it's all for you,’ his exact words. the bane of your existence.

after he's changed, you wipe the sweat off his body with a wet towel as much as you can. giving him a glass of water before leaving for your room when he grabs your wrist and stops you with his puppy eyes.

in the morning, around noon jake is the first one to wake up and having no memory of the previous night besides the fact that he was drunk. he sits at his desk chair, hands in his hair, watching you sleep on the other side of his bed, clad in his shirt. it’s like he feels everything is over and done from here. he did what he swore never to do, this was the very first thing he pinned on his mind as an important note: not using you even if he has very obvious feelings for you. he tugs on his hair in frustration, angry at himself for not staying in his lane when drunk. with his head hung in guilt, he doesn't notice you stirring awake, sitting up at the sight of his hunched figure.

“yun? are you okay? is the hangover severe? should i make you something for it?” startled at your soft voice, he flinches visibly. a thousand scenarios running through his mind and not one ends up good.

“you don’t even know any hangover recipes,” jake mumbles almost inaudibly.

“i can just search on the internet and try my best, it’s not like i’ll give you anything inedible,” you teaee, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere you feel in the air.

it takes him a moment to speak again, sounding as miserable as he has never before,“candy i’m,” he halts, gulping to hold back the lump in his throat,“i’m sorry, i really didn’t mean to, i don’t why i, it's all my fault,” he stops again, leaving you confused and dumbfounded,“what are you saying? what apology?” it is when his eyes shift to stare at what you’re clad in, staying there for a hard minute when you get a rough idea of what he could be thinking of. your cheeks grow hot at the realization, shaking your head when unholy images pop up in your subconscious.

but the butterflies fly away just as fast as they came as his words dawn uppn you. even if it didn’t happen the fact that he wouldn’t mean it, want it, regret it has something in you twisting in pain, are you so bad? or that he actually really thinks of you as his little sister? that you read his affections wrong, assumed his feelings differently? your heart breaks more than a little at that.

“why? is it because i’m not like the others you have been with? because i’m not like eunsang? or because i’m not her? the one you were smiling so hard after talking to? are you dating he-”

“that’s the problem! you’re not like her! you’re not like anyone i've known before! you’re special and i’m afraid i’ll lose you, things will change and just i’ll have to get over you without even getting a chance,” it's the first time he's ever raised his voice at you, and the first time ever he's sounded so desperate, weak and dejected. so vulnerable.

the split moment of sadness dissipates with every word that sinks in. the revelation of a(n after)drunk confession. the fact that you're a different kind of special to him, that he would want a chance to be with you, that he's afraid to lose you. you supres the urge to laugh when it all settles into your understanding. having a better grasp over the bigger picture. your steps are slow and calculated as you walk over to him, sitting across his lap and cupping his cheeks in a fleeting breath of courage. his eyes almost bulge out when you brush your lips lightly against his, mumbling softly,“nothing happened, but if you still want i can give you a chance, it’s going to be hard though tolerating me, think wisely,” you giggle and jake malfunctions for an instant before grabbing you in a tight hug, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

��of course, of course i do want it, i’ve always wanted it,” chanting out in a trance.

“your lips tasted like watermelon,” he mutters out some time after, eyes locking with yours in an intense pull. still in a daze that out of all the bad things that could've happened it was none. literally none plus you perhaps wanting him just as much as he wants you.

“i had some in the morning before you woke up, anyhow yours taste like alcohol and your breath is horrible, go and freshen up,” you push at his shoulder, getting off him to leave the room to cook something. probably (as you said) a recipe searched up on the web, hopefully edible enough for a hungover person.

when he comes out later, all showered and back to the jake you know: the one who likes his hair slightly messy and almost never in a shirt. “why were- are you wearing my shirt then?”

“you practically begged me to last night while sobbing for i don’t know what reason,” he's a bit flustered at that, but hey, it's what got him here, you gotta do what you gotta do.

“candy, you wanna go out tonight? jay and sunghoon wanted to hang out but i don't wanna leave you so i said i’d bring you along,” jake asks, knocking at your door.

it takes you a little over a minute to open up but jake's does not mind it at all for obvious reasons, his jaw comically falling to the floor when you walk out in your tiny little blue sundress and the shade of lipgloss he was dying to see you in. you're unreal.

“yes! i heard you on call earlier,”

“oh my god candy, gimme a princess twirl,” the amount of desire he feels for you right now is unfathomable. biting his lips at the sight of your lace panties underneath that faintly flash him in the mini twirl you do. can you get any hotter?

“just fifteen minutes and i'll be ready,” he got ten minutes to do something about the boner he just popped, and it's more than enough to have him rub one out with what he just saw. maybe add a little hint of imagination and wondering what you'd sound like if he were to touch you down there. especially given the fact that the likelihood of it happening were through the roof now. you almost kissed last week, anything could happen at this point. and jake's dick gets impossibly sensitive at the odds of it.

at the restaurant, jay and sunghoon sit in an awkward silence, watching you both be all over each other. when they agreed for jake to bring his girl along, they didn't expect it to be so bad.

“um jake talks a lot about you,” sunghoon says trying to start a conversation that he knows probably wouldn't go anywhere.

“he does? that's so sweet,” you smile, giggling over something jake whispers in your ear, his hand palming over the plush of your exposed thighs,”what do you wanna eat?” sunghoon nerves feel boiled at the way jake completely skips over his attempt to talk to you. while jay sips at wine, agonizingly slow knowing this is how it's gonna be from now on. their friend is a changed man.

“i have this picture of jake from middle school, you'd love to see it i promise,” a little tipsy, sunghoon's persistence to put himself in the equation albeit admirable, annoys the fuck out of jake, scowling at the other well of aware of the so called picture he wants to share.

“jay man, take care of him. candy and i are going home,” jake gives them a tight lipped smile, holding your rather drunk self (it's just wine you had said)

“see you later ca- y/n,” at first jay leans in for a friendly hug but— nevermind. the way jake stares at him is scarily weird.

jake makes sure to have you sit on the couch before he leaves to get you water but you're sprawled out on the floor when he comes back. mumbling something about how cool the tiles feel against your skin,”come on you should drink some water,” jake pulls you up on your ass, sitting cross legged on the floor beside you. his hand softly holds the back of your head as he brings the glass to your mouth.

“alright say, what did you wanna say?”

“i wanna kiss you,” if jake thinks the pout on your lips is the cutest thing ever then the words you say must have to be the hottest thing ever. how can a simple word like kiss make his heart flutter so bad? and it's not even lust at this point.

he fulfils your wish without a thought, leaning in to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. sucking on your bottom lip a second long before he pulls away and boops your nose. no tongue and no other intentions. the after taste of your gloss lingering in his mouth.

“let me tell you a secret,” you whisper out, moving over to his lap, knees on the floor each side.

“i knew you stole my kuromi panties,” he's shocked you know about it, he made sure to be extra careful with it, though his nasty ass was internally hoping you'd catch him.

“mhm, i do have it with me but it's not really wearable now,” he did not see this becoming something sexual but the moment you brought up the panties, you might as well have brought up his dick. man practically re-lived every single time he used it to jerk off, all those orgasms coming to life at once.

“you need to punished!” you whine,

“what do you wanna do?” and jake feels his dick get harder at that.

“can we kiss again?” oh my god, you make him feel so fuzzy and horny at the same time, it's unbelievable. in the guide of jake sim: to make him horny is relatively easy, to get him all fuzzy is once in a lifetime and to get him both at the same time is impossible. yet you do it so effortlessly.

jake answers you with his lips against yours again, relishing in the feeling of them on his own. all those times he wondered of how it'd feel like to kiss you seemed so lame now that he actually did. no imagination could ever come close to way he feels right now. his hand comes up to cup the side of your neck, his grip firm as he pulls away for a moment,”i wanna love you so much and take you on cute little dates and buy you all the food you want and fuck you so hard you only remember my name,”he mumbles against your lips in a bit whisper, letting you take a breath before he dives right back in. this time he lets his tongue slide in, rubbing against your own for a short while only to pull back and go for another trying to keep your lips pressed together for as long as he could. finally pulling away when he feels you push against him a little too roughly, a crawl of shudders all over his skin at the roll of your hips against his bulge.

“wan’ you to fuck me too,” you whine, this time desperately.

“fuck candy, you're drunk we shouldn't be doing this,” he reminds, failing miserably to hold himself back. his hands keep twitching to just grab your hips and grind you down on his dick until you're both cumming together.

“i’m not, i swear. i just drank a little because i couldn't have done this all sober,” even through the layers of clothes, jake can feel your neediness dropping with the way you roll your hips harder against him. speeding up when you think he's pushing you away, but he's just grabbing you closer by the waist. he can't deny how wanted he feels right now, feeling like he'd explode any second. the fuck were you so horny for him?

“are you sure this is okay?” he asks again. no matter how bad he's dying to fuck you, he'll never do it if you don't to.

“‘s okay, please yunie,” you feel his hands slide along your thighs and in between your legs. fingers faintly brushing over the wet patch on your panties in a sharp inhale. he grazes two fingers against your clit, testing the waters. rubbing harder when he feels your breathing pick up it's pace, switching to spank your clit impossibly fast having lost control at the sound of your wanton whimpers.

“don’t move and take it baby,” jake growls, pushing you flush against his chest, making your back arch more and more into him. tits bouncing right up in his face as he bends down to nibble as the exposed skin between them.

he stops for a moment only to push your panties to the side and touch you raw. rubbing rougher and so intense, your legs feel number from pleasure,”has anyone touched you like before?” his jaw clenches hard, eyes dark with want as they remain fixated at the sight of his hands on your pussy. fuck he finally knows what touching you feels like.

“ngh— no, fuck!” and it boosts jake's ego through the roof, he doesn't think he's ever felt as horny as he feels right now. the thought of being the first to touch you in your princess parts, the first you have seen you putty like this, the first to be the one to get you like this. fuck, fuck, fuck! he feels so turned on it's literally inhumane. precum oozing out his tip with every twitch of his dick.

“mm, gonna put my fingers in you,” you feel one of jake's fingers press into you, sliding inside easily with how dripping wet you are. the pornographic moan you let out when he slowly slips in another and curves up has his dick twitch so damn hard he thinks he just came untouched. you sound so cute yet so fucking hot, his mind is in a spiral of everything he wants to do to have you moan like that again and again until you're so drunk on pleasure, you only want him all the time.

“shit you're so tight and warm, can't imagine how good you'd feel around my cock,” his eyes keenly hooked on the way you raise your hips to meet the thrusts halfway,”y-yun, ‘s feels too g-good ah,”

“fuck you're so hot and so perfect for me,” his words travel straight to your core having you clench tight around his fingers and all of a sudden you find your oragasm hitting you as violently as jake continues to run you through it, fast and painfully pleasurable. enamoured and obsessed with the way your doe eyes struggle to stay open, mouth parting in a loud whine, back arching and hips shooting up. god you're a piece of art and jake doesn't think he's ever gonna want anyone other than you.

he immediately stands up with you in his arms, walking over to the kitchen counter and placing you gently on the cold marble. his fingers run through your hair in a soft caress, tucking in the messy strands behind your ears,”you sure you want this? we can stop here if you want. just say the word and i’ll stop,”

“wan’ yun to be my first,” you whimper wearily, jake feels his heart skip a couple of beats. your first, he wants to be your last too and you to be his last.

”gonna make you cum so much harder on my cock,” he places his hands on your thighs in a tight grip and forces them apart fervently. he so damn wants to eat you out but he also wants to feel you cum around his cock, it's a hard choice to make but his cock feels so angry and heavy slick from all the precum he shot out each time you whimpered or moaned or whined, if he'd wait to get his dick wet he'd probably actually come untouched from your sounds and reactions alone. and only god knows(jay too oops) how bad jake sim wants the first time he cums with you to be deep inside you. so much so that he might develop a kink of getting you knocked up (nope you're too young for that!)

he takes his pants off in a snap, practically ripping his boxers along with it, grabbing his rock hard dick, throbbing and red at the tip and trusting into his fist a couple of times. breathing heavy at the way you watch him with your lips between your teeth. he wonders how good it'd feel to watch you touch yourself while he does the same, cumming together with your eyes locked. but he probably doesn't have that kind of self control to just watch you touch yourself, when he can do it himself?

he taps his tip against your clit for a hot minute sliding it along your folds in a strained groan. you're so embarrassing wet, it's like jake could shove himself inside immediately and your you'd hardly feel pain for a while. however, holding back his desires, he pushes into you slowly, holding your body close and stroking your back soothingly,”let me know when i can move,” a tender kiss at your forehead, trying to make sure you know you have the say it in.

jake groans as you give him the go seconds later,”mhmmm candy⁠— baby,” moaning soft and lustful as he pulls out till the tip and thrusts all the way in. your insides feel so warm and gummy, walls clenching around him crazy tight. he thinks he'll lose his mind and end up cumming embarrassingly fast like a teen getting pussy for the first time. the way he feels the pleasure throb in his veins so intense all over his body, it's almost numbing.

your hands loop around his neck, fingers scratching at his back as he pounds into you rough, his pace hard and fast pushing all his body weight against you.

“don't think i can ever get enough of you,”

the sight of the thin straps of your dress slipped to the sides, tits almost spilling out of the front gets jake going, fueling him to grab at you anywhere and everywhere his hands can possibly go,”tell me im dreaming fuckkk— i've wanted you for so long, can't count the number of times i've jerked off to the thought of having you like this, so pretty and dumb under me,” all those evenings when you roamed around the unit in the shortest shorts and the smallest crops, driving him mad shit insane, having to sneak off into the bathroom multiple times. fisting his cock hard, groaning and biting back his moans as he got off to the thought of you, while you sat all unaware and innocent on the other side of the wall.

he stops abruptly, pulling out in a frenzy and turning you around on your heels and pushing you by the back of your neck to lay against the cool granite. one hand going down to grab at your thigh and hook it up on the counter, drooling at the way your pussy glistens from the angle. he shoves his dick back in without a warning, feeling your ass collide against him harsh yet fervid.

you both pant in rasps when his cock hits a sensitive spot inside you. he shifts to angle himself just right to repeatedly brush against that spot and you mewl out loud at that, so loud your neighbours probably know what you're up to.

“fuck i can't stand not seeing your cute face,” jake bends over to grab you by your throat, pulling you up and flush against him, head resting back at his shoulders as he forces to look at him, fingers gripping your jaw softly,”eyes on me, okay baby?” grunting from deep within his chest, a wild grin on his face as he watches you get lost in ecstasy,”i’ll get you addicted to my cock,” just like how addicted he already is with your pussy and everything about you.

his other hand reaches up to tug the front of your dress down, groping up one of your tits, a silk touch to see your reaction. loving the way it's so obvious how sensitive you are there. mouth parting open with you in sensuous gasps as he twists your nipple harshly, rubbing the tip with his thumb. your walls clench a little too hard and your back arches off as you push your hips back into him, the tell tale signs of you getting close,”my baby's gonna cum for me?”

holding your jaw to have your eyes trained on him, he unexpectedly inserts his thumb in your mouth pressing against your wet tongue, your red swollen lips too tempting to resist,“fuck yes, show me how pretty you cum,” you mumble out a series of incoherent words in hazy chant.

the hand on your breast slips down to your lower abdomen pressing rashly against his bulge, feeling faint movement of his cock deep inside you. fuck you're so small and delicate. his hold on you tightening as his calloused fingers find your neglected bud, rolling it in quick, tight circles. it's so painful yet you feel so good, tears wailing down your cheeks as your orgasm crashes hard, overwhelming and violent, thighs trembling and pussy clenching uncontrollably. jake's continues to rub your clit, helping you ride out your high. eyes fluttering shut, and swallowing thickly at the sensation of you creaking over his sensitive length, cock throbbing impossibly hard.

jake refuses to stop even after you have come down,”one more candy, i know you can do one more for me,” hips hammering into you at full force, and lips finding yours in ragged breaths. and it dawns on you what exactly you have gotten yourself into when you feel the two of his fingers protruding at your entrance, trying to push in beside his cock,“if you try to close your legs i'm gonna punish you,” he warns making you whine into his mouth.

in a flash he turns your body to face his, quickly shoving his cock and fingers back into you. his other hand spanking the skin of your ass and kneading it a soft caress after. he eyes hypnotized at the view of you taking him in, a white ring of your cum adorning the base of his cock. he spits at your clit, once again toying with the engorged bud, pinching and flicking,”“gonna make you cum until you pass out, fuck i really wanna do that⁠—” your hand darts out to grip at jake's wrist, feeling too overwhelmed with hypersensitivity. wanting to shy away but the pleasure’s so good you can't bring yourself to push him away.

“but it's your first time,” jake mumbles between hoarse grunts.

before you can even realize it yourself your third orgasm courses through you vehemently. body jerking and twitching, almost falling over if not for jake's hold. jets of cum gushing out as you moan loud.

feeling you spill down his cock, all warm and tight, his brutal rhythm falters,”fuck- ‘m gonna cum,” eyes locking with yours as he thrusts once, twice and then stills, burying himself deep, streams of cum shooting out. hot spurt after spurt, swollen cock twitching against your walls. goosebumps all over, his legs quiver from how hard he came.

he stays quiet and motionless for a while, his arms wrapped around your shaking body. breathing in the scent of your shampoo, trying to calm his pounding heart and cock.

“you good candy? i’m sorry, i think i went a little rough on you,” you nuzzle into him in quiet,’its okay’ as he strokes your head, leaving fluttering kisses over your face. picking you up by the thighs he brings you to your bed, laying you down and gently pulling out. groaning at the way all your mixed cum oozes out, pretty little hole clenching around nothing.

exhausted, you let your mind drift, feeling the drowsiness kick in while jake bends between your legs with a wet towel. whining wearily, when his lips wrap around your nub in a suck, the wet sensation of his tongue against your clit like a shot of electricity,”sorry, baby just had to do that once,” he knew he didn't just call you candy for nothing and he was right. grining sheepishly as he wipes the rest of the cum off, cleaning you all up.

“you're nasty,” you manage to whisper out.

“only for you,” the touch of his body is hot and comforting, arms around your waist cuddling closely(and half naked).

“let's shower together in the morning, wanna eat you out so-”

“jake!”

“what? it's the truth!”

the following around four in the afternoon before jake has to leave for his soccer practice, you approach him on the couch, as always re-watching an episode of vincenzo. you haven't talked much about labels, but it's known to everyone that you're sorta together. more like jake is taken by you. his friends weren't too surprised to know about you both, it was obvious jake had the hots for you and from the little hangout at the restaurant they figured it all worked out for him.

“incoming, pocky!” you sit beside him with a banana flavored pocky stick between your teeth, leaning in teasingly.

“oh you want me so bad,” he plays along inch closer and biting it off in a snap, lips barely brushing against yours.

pulling you onto his lap with your back pressed into his chest, he locks you in place, chuckling at the way you attempt to escape. his fingers twirling the ends of your hair as you surrender in seconds, switching to watching the show absent-mindedly,”my parents wanted to meet you,” he drops the bomb, tracing random letters on your skin to distract of the fact that he just mention a meeting with parents.

“as my roommate, actually,” quickly adding the important point, fingers poking at your cheeks like jello.

“so suddenly though?” you think back on all the things you have ever done to him, for them to want to see you. perhaps they think of you as a snobby girl who’s indulging their son’s already unpleasant habits.

“they’ve actually been wanting to meet you for the past three months, i was putting it off but now summer break is starting next week and i have no more excuses to give,” hugging you, he rests his head on the curve of your neck, breathing in the smell of watermelon that surrounds you after you had basically devoured a whole at lunch. “if you don’t want to then you don’t have to, i’ll talk to them,” he assures, not wanting you to feel obligated to agree, or force yourself despite being uncomfortable.

“no it’s okay, we can go meet them. how long will the drive be?” fumbling with his red knuckles, your mind wanders off to when he fingered you, growing hot and embarrassed all of a sudden. hardly listening in on his answers.

when jake leaves for his soccer practice, you find time to complete the trivial chores around the house. watering the plants with a pout, missing jake more than ever. you have completely different majors and you are not in any clubs either to stay after classes. the only time you spend together being the one at the apartment which is also cut down by his frequent practice sessions, sometimes in the morning during weekends and normally most evenings on weekdays. it makes you ponder on whether you should try out for any club, after all these years doing something else besides studying. but you have no idea what you should consider, having no knowledge on which clubs you could be eligible to join.

it takes you two whole weeks and a bunch of outfit checks to find yourself on your way to meet jake's parents. feeling almost weird and exhilarating at how his parents and his older brother welcome you. treating you so well even though they recognize you as nothing more than just his college apartment roommate who helps fix his laptop and tolerates the boy knowing the kind of womanizer he is. appearing more as a meeting with in-laws when you jake and you are not even official yet, more so they have no idea of what's going between you two.

they try their best to make you feel at home. during the lunch as jake had told them beforehand, his mother had a few sweet dishes prepared for you, coddling you just as jake does back at your unit. they talk to you about casual things including your likes and dislikes, what major you are in, whether jake treats you well, if you have any complaints regarding his behavior. it doesn’t feel as awkward as you as thought it would and you didn't have to put on any act as you prepared yourself to do.

in the beginning of your roommate journey, his accent, his voice was the first thing to attract you but slowly as you explored his personality you came to like him for more than just what attracted you to him. now you as you spend time with people closest to him, you understand where he got it all from. the sweet person he is, which you never expected a fuckboy to be, you didn’t even have an ounce of hope that he’ll acknowledge your presence in the apartment when you got to know about his playing around conduct. yet he turned out to be the sweetest boy you’ve ever come around in your life ( and the nastiest perhaps, )

when you are sitting alone with his brother, while jake is away downstairs to bring you something sugary to eat, his brother takes it as a chance to share his thoughts,“you know until i heard him call you candy a while ago, i was under the impression that 'candy’,” he quotes it specially with a movement of his fingers,“is supposedly a cheerleader fling of his after i saw the contact name showing up when he got a call the last time he was here,” giving you a sly look as he catches sight of jake approaching,“turns out it’s you, i never knew he is the type to give such sweet, unique petnames,”

before you leave in the evening, jake makes sure to let them know that you’re toegther, and that he’s not playing around this time. he’s willing to give effort into it and change his usual ways of living, to be better for himself and as well as for you.

on your way there you had thought of a lot things, had a lot of assumptions and expectations. even prepared yourself to hear things that’ll stick to you not so positively. but what stays in your mind now is completely unexpected and opposite of what you had internally composed yourself for. it’s all you can think of in the car and after you’re back in the comfort of your familiar apartment.

cheerleader, not a bad idea—

“oh my god candy, you're gonna be the death of me!” jake pulls you away, dragging you to the back of the bleachers, his cock already rock hard and throbbing with need.

“don't you like it? i thought cheerleaders dressed like this,” you pout at him, fiddling with the ends of the literally shortest skirt of your closet.

“i love it baby, but you can't just show up to practice like that, how am i gonna be able to concentrate when all i can think of you is fucking you,” he groans scanning over your figure again and again, it's like you brought out a hidden desire he didn't even know he had. he'd win every game for you if you were to cheer by the stands like this, the adrenaline of getting to ruin your perfect outfit and your perfect makeup after, putting him on a winning streak.

“teach me to suck you off,” jake loses his mind when you get down on your knees, pushing your hair out of the way and looking up at him through your lashes, doe eyes driving him crazy.

“shit baby, i will,” oh he's so going to corrupt you.

[solxamber]

Witch, Please- Floyd Leech x reader

You're the best witch to go to for getting the job done. Your potions? Absolutely foolproof. At least, that's what you thought until a certain Floyd Leech waltzed into your store.

You were the go-to witch in the entire realm, known far and wide for your incredibly potent spells and potions. When people said you were good, they meant it—your concoctions didn’t just work; they exceeded expectations. Need a luck charm to ace that impossible test? Done. Want a potion to make your ex weep every time they hear your name? Consider it finished.

Of course, this level of expertise came with a price—literally. You didn’t work for free, and you made sure your clients knew it. The other price? You were constantly sleep-deprived. Sleep? Never heard of her. But hey, that’s the life of a witch: overworked, overtired, and somehow still making better potions than anyone else in the business.

So when Floyd Leech first showed up at your door, you were only half-conscious and didn’t know that you were about to enter a whirlwind of chaos, idiocy, and—unexpectedly—romance.

It was a cloudy afternoon, and you were organizing your potions, mostly to avoid falling asleep standing up. The soothing sound of glass bottles clinking was the only thing keeping you from face-planting into the nearest pile of spellbooks. That’s when you heard it: a loud, careless banging on your door. Great, you thought. Another customer.

Opening the door revealed Floyd, towering over you with that wide, toothy grin that practically screamed trouble.

“Yo, witchy! Got a minute?” He leaned in close, invading your personal space like he was about to share some sort of grand secret.

You blinked slowly, still not fully awake. “Floyd Leech… what brings you here?”

“Need a love potion.” He said it so casually, like he was asking for a cup of coffee. “Think it’ll be hilarious!”

“Hilarious?” You frowned, crossing your arms. “Love potions aren’t exactly for pranks, you know. They can be… unpredictable.”

“That’s the point! Imagine someone gettin’ all mushy and clingy. It’ll be so funny.” He was already laughing at the thought, practically vibrating with energy.

You sighed, because of course, Floyd would think that messing with people’s emotions was peak comedy. But hey, a job’s a job. And you did like getting paid.

“Fine, but use it responsibly.” You handed him the potion, explaining the rules. “Only a few drops, and make sure they drink it. Not bathe in it, not pour it on them, just—"

“Yeah, yeah, got it!” he said, snatching the bottle before sauntering off like he hadn’t just asked you for the magical equivalent of playing with fire.

You didn’t expect to see him again so soon, but the next day, there he was. Except now he was soaking wet, as though he’d taken a dive in a river.

“I thought you’d follow instructions,” you said, eyeing the puddle forming under his feet.

“I did!” he pouted. “I poured the whole bottle on ‘em!”

You blinked. “You poured it on them? Floyd… I said they have to drink it.”

“Ohhh… well, that explains why they just got real mad and threw iced tea at me.” He shrugged, totally unconcerned.

You stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out if he was messing with you. Nope, that was just Floyd being Floyd.

“Well, at least you got iced tea,” you muttered, already pulling out ingredients to make another potion.

A week later, Floyd was back, this time bouncing into your shop with that familiar grin. You felt your eye twitch involuntarily.

“What do you need now?” you asked, mentally preparing yourself for another round of nonsense.

“Good luck charm,” he said, like it was the most normal request in the world. “I wanna win all my basketball games without even tryin’. Gotta show those scrubs how it’s done.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “I can make you a charm, but it’s not gonna turn you into some kind of invincible sports god. It’ll give you a little edge, nothing more.”

He grinned wider. “That’s all I need! Gimme your best shot.”

With a sigh, you whipped up a charm that should have been harmless. It wasn’t meant to make him superhuman—just enough to tip the scales in his favor during a game.

Three days later, Floyd came back looking like he’d been through a warzone. His hair was singed, his clothes were tattered, and he had the unmistakable stench of burnt rubber clinging to him.

“…What happened?”

“Eh, turns out bleachers don’t hold up so good when you dunk the ball too hard.” He smirked, clearly proud of himself. “Collapsed the whole thing. Coach was so mad! It was hilarious.”

You buried your face in your hands. “Floyd, I gave you a good luck charm, not a demolition spell.”

He shrugged. “Details, details.”

You couldn’t decide if you were exasperated or impressed. Maybe a little of both.

After the good luck charm incident, you figured Floyd would take a break from terrorizing you with his wild requests. Nope. A week later, he was back again.

“Need a sleep potion.”

You raised an eyebrow. “For you?”

“Nah, for someone else. They’re too high-strung. Figured I’d help ‘em out.”

You didn’t ask questions. You didn’t want to know who he was planning to knock out with a sleep potion. You just brewed it up, handed it over, and gave him a warning: “One drop. That’s all it takes. If you use too much, they’ll be out for days.”

“Got it, got it,” he waved you off, already halfway out the door.

Fast forward to three days later, and Floyd showed up at your shop with a giant bruise on his face.

“Let me guess,” you said, not even looking up from the book you were reading. “The sleep potion backfired.”

“Yup,” he grumbled. “Guess people don’t like gettin’ surprise naps.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “You’re lucky you didn’t put them into a coma.”

“Nah, they woke up… eventually.”

You rolled your eyes. This was becoming a pattern, and you were starting to question your life choices.

Round 4: The Strength Spell Chaos

It was late one night when Floyd barged in again, this time asking for a strength spell. You were too tired to argue, so you whipped up something simple, thinking what could go wrong with a bit of extra strength? Famous last words.

Two days later, Floyd came back, and you could hear him laughing from down the street. He walked in, looking like he’d just won the lottery.

“What happened this time?” you asked, though you weren’t sure you wanted to know.

“Broke the hoop clean off the backboard!” He mimed the motion, still laughing. “It was awesome! Then the hoop flew into the crowd. Chaos everywhere! Best day ever.”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You… you’re not supposed to destroy the equipment, Floyd!”

“Eh, details.”

You sighed. Again. A lot.

After all the mayhem, you thought Floyd had finally gotten bored of messing with potions. You were wrong. He came back one last time, leaning casually against the doorframe with that familiar grin.

“Witchy, I need another love potion.”

You groaned internally. “Floyd, we’ve been over this. You don’t—”

“Just trust me,” he interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. “This one’s important.”

At this point, you were too exhausted to argue. You mixed up a stronger potion this time, hoping that whatever chaos he was planning would at least stay contained to… well, wherever he was taking it.

But then, as you handed it to him, Floyd did something that made your brain stop and reboot.

He took the potion, popped the cork, and—while staring straight into your eyes—poured it into your tea.

You blinked. “Floyd.”

“Yeah?”

“…What did you just do?”

He smirked. “Wanted to make sure it worked on you.”

Your brain went blank. “Wha—”

He leaned in, resting his elbows on the counter, face close to yours. “Y’know, witchy, I thought hangin’ out with you was just a fun way to kill time. But after a while, I realized I like ya. So let’s skip the whole love potion thing. It’s more fun without magic, right?”

Your jaw dropped. “Floyd, you… you could’ve just asked me out!”

He shrugged, completely nonchalant. “This was more fun.”

You stared at him, half-exasperated, half-dumbfounded. “You’re insane.”

“Yup,” he said, grinning like a shark. “But you like me anyway, don’tcha?”

You didn’t even have the energy to argue. Maybe he was right. Maybe, in some bizarre, unprecedented way, you did like him.

“Well,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair, “I guess you’re brewing the next round of tea, then.”

Floyd just laughed, and for once, you couldn’t help but smile back.

Masterlist

[missadangel]

The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x Ofc!Princess Reader)

All Chapters List

XI. The Accusation (+18, Mature)

gif --- ayo-edebiri

“Ad astra per aspera”

To the stars though difficulties…

Villa…

"I need you to help me to kill Caracalla.”

You stared at Julia's face in astonishment, trying to make sense of what you just heard. Her dark brown eyes were serious, but you noticed something in her expression that you couldn't identify – it was somewhere between fear and unease.

"You came to my house to ask me to help you kill your son? Is that correct?”

“He is no longer my son. Macrinus has made him a mere plaything. He pretty much does whatever he wants. He had his relatives killed, without any hesitation. I can't let him kill Geta too. It's only a matter of time. I can't lose Geta.” She sounded upset when she mentioned him. "I lost everything to Macrinus. First he took my son, then my reputation. My own son won't listen to me, he sent me into exile, which is unacceptable." Her tearful voice suddenly turned serious. "I have no one left to go to but you which Acacius had a hand in this, of course.”

‘What are you sa-?’

"He wiped out my men in Legates. They were my last remaining stronghold. I did everything I could to keep them on my side for all those years. Did he tell you how he killed them? I'm sure he didn't, so as not to startle you."

You took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. "My husband doesn't hide anything from me. But even if he did, I'm sure he has his own reasons." You said confidently.

"Sure he has!" she said sarcastically.

She was testing the limits of your patience. "Cease talking nonsense about my husband!" You barked. "Simply say whatever you came to say then take your leave.”

"Fair enough.” She crossed her legs. “Caracalla must die before Macrinus returns to Rome. Before he appoint him as Praetorian prefect (commander of the Imperial Guard)." She took a deep breath. "I'm sure of that he will take action against my sons once he assumes command of the guards. This could potentially lead to him ascending the throne. However, if Caracalla dies, it might weaken Macrinus' position. It would be more feasible to defeat him when Geta is emperor.”

"And you needn't worry about being hidden away in the shadows, as it seems unlikely that Geta will exile you like his brother did? It sounds like you're saving yourself.” She averted her eyes which meant you were right. "But why do you need my help exactly?"

"I believe you care about Geta, don't you? He also cares for you in some way. Perhaps more than you realise.”

“There’s nothing—“

You were about to protest, but she silenced you by raising her hand. “I am his mother, so I know him well and I know you don't wish him dead too. Besides, it would be better for everyone if he rules Rome alone. So Caracalla must die as soon as possible before harms him. You're a medicus, aren't you? You could make a concoction of herbs that will kill him painlessly.”

Her words were sharp, but her gaze was unwavering, declaring that this was the path she had to take. But it was still strange that she said it so easily. It felt wrong.

"I wouldn't have come to you if I didn't have to. It's only a matter of time before he finds out, accuse me of betrayal, and send me back. This is our sole opportunity before Macrinus's return."

‘Our? There is no ‘our’, there is no we. Furthermore, it is not a decision that can be made alone. You present this as an easy solution, but I am a married woman and my husband is a Roman general. What will happen to my husband if your plan fails? Have you ever considered this?”

She rolled her eyes. “Isn't that why you should help me? Once he's dealt with my sons, Macrinus' next target is General Acacius. To get you.” You knew exactly what she meant and she realized that. "I imagine your husband feels very regretful about not taking Macrinus out that night. Because I know he won't let him get away with it.”

You swallowed hard, hating to admit that she was right. Julia smiled, seeming amused by your expression. "Oh, poor Aurelia. It must be tough to be caught between three men. Yet you are fortunate. Even if you were to become a widow one day, there'd be another man waiting for you. Since you're a Roman princess, you're worth a great deal.”

That was the last straw. You felt a rush of anger and stood up abruptly. “Get out of my house now! Leave!” You barked, pointing your finger at the courtyard door. Julia stood up, looking insolent.

“If you truly care about Geta, think about what I said.”

“I said leave!” You shouted, then pointing your finger at her. “I'm warning you, don't you ever speak ill of my husband and don't come to my house again!”

Some of the slaves rushed towards you.

“Domina!”

“Escort Lady Domna outside.” You said sharply.

Julia gave you a stern look and turned away. She raised her hand to stop the slave who was approaching her. Then she left the courtyard. You were still pretty angry and tired, which made your head spin even more. Decima put her arm around you and made you sit on the lectus (couch). She grabbed your feet and gently lifted them, helping you lie down. Norell and Tullia were keeping an eye on you from a distance, looking a bit worried. You looked them with a half smile and told them to get on with their work. You leaned your head back and closed your eyes. Decima took your hand.

"Would you like me to make you some dittany tea (cretan thyme)?" It was an herb that was usually used for relaxation. Decima was from Egypt, so she was familiar with herbal teas. Well, not as familiar as you are, of course.

You looked at her. "Not that, not if I'm..." you said quietly.

"Oh, you're right. Chamomile then?”

"Yes, that's better. Thank you my dear.”

After drinking your chamomile tea, you fell asleep in the courtyard. The slaves were mindful of your need for rest and made every effort to avoid disturbing you. Those who walked towards the courtyard did so as quietly as they could. Then Mau appeared and jumped next to you. However, you were so deeply asleep that you were unaware that she had fallen asleep on your lap. You were suddenly awakened by the sound of a sword being unsheathed and a man shouting. Mau meowed loudly, jumped out of your lap in fright and sought refuge elsewhere.

Seeing Octavius holding his sword to a man's throat who you had never seen before. Opened your eyes in surprise.

“Sir! Have mercy please!” He begged. You noticed some parchment papers and a reed pen in his hand.

You sat up on the couch. “Octavius, what is happening here?”

"My lady, this rat was attempting to draw your likeness without your permission."

You were taken aback. "Can you clarify what you mean by that?”

Decima turned to you. "This man came for the General, but we informed him that he was not present. I then assumed that he had departed. Forgive me, my lady.”

Your eyesbrows rose. “You came to draw my husband?”

The man swallowed. Octavius shook him. “Lady Aurelia asked you a question. Speak, thief!”

You warned him, “Octavius, please put that sword away and allow the man to speak.”

He obeyed. The man stood up ad bowed. “Yes, my lady. Aventine cloth dyers association are paying me to do a mural of General Acacius and the tiger he fought in the arena, my lady.”

“Explain yourself. Why would they do that?” Octavius barked.

“He’s famous, sir, the city, all the Roman citizens likes him. He’s a hero.”

You smiled, and he was indeed a hero to you. You picked up the fallen scrolls and took a moment to examine them. He had painted you so well, even the mau in your lap, which you found quite remarkable.

"But you drew me, his wife," you murmured.

"My lady, allow me to beat this insolent rat to death," Octavius hissed. The man shuddered with fear.

"Please, sir. Leave him alone," you said, a little harshly.

"My lady, forgive me. You were so beautiful when you slept that I was overcome with admiration and wanted to draw your likeness.”

You felt your cheeks flush involuntarily.

“How dare you!” Octavius roared.

“Calm yourself, sir.” You gave Octavius a warning look. You stood up and approached the man. “Please rise.”

The man stood up looking a little ashamed.

“I'll tell my husband you came by. You are well talented, I liked your drawing,” you said, showing him the parchment. “May I keep this?”

He looked at you and gave you a big, warm smile. "It's already yours, my lady. I'm really pleased you think so.

You glanced at Octavius, who seemed to be losing patience. Then you looked at the man. “You may yet leave now.”

The man bowed his head and gave you a shy look, then turned and walked out of the courtyard. Octavius accompanied him outside. You and Decima studied the painting the artist had created. She then enquired as to whether she might bring you something to eat, and with your approval, she departed. It would seem that Mau was hungry when she returned to you, as she rubbed her tail against your leg. She meowed loudly when she saw Norell approaching you a moment later with a tray in her hands.

"Where's Decima? I thought she was supposed to bring the food.

You noticed that Norell's cheeks flushed. "Well, my lady, she had some more work to do in the kitchen."

"Is she all right?"

She nodded, but her freckled cheeks were still red. You grabbed her wrist as her furtive look and tone of voice made you wonder what she was hiding. "Tell me, what's going on?"

"Um, Decima. She took food to Sir Octavius." She averted her eyes from you and smiled in a way that seemed a little evasive. You blinked in surprise and then laughed.

“Oh, well, well,” you said, amused. “When these two have become so close?"

Norell chuckled. "It has been a while now. She often speaks of him."

You giggled. "Where might they be now?"

She turned her head towards the courtyard. “Over there.”

"Perhaps we could go and take a quick look at them," you suggested, with a hint of mischief in your voice.

Norell let out a soft laugh and followed you behind. The slave at the door was about to speak to you but you silenced him by putting your index finger to your lips.

You and Norell peered out of the door, observed Octavius and Decima by the stables, talking, smiling at each other. The slave at the door looked at them from behind you and grinned too.

As you watched them from a distance you recognized a familiar feeling in the way they looked at each other, love.

"My dear Decima," you murmured, sharing her happiness.

Norell sighed deeply. "I hope that one day I will be in love too.”

You heard the other slave sigh and you both looked at him with surprise. He bowed his head shyly.

“Domina? My lady?”

All three of you were startled by Tullia's loud voice. Decima had heard it too, and when she turned her head towards you three. You blushed and hurried inside.

“Tullia! Why are you shouting?” you snapped.

“Oh, forgive me. I thought…”

You and Norell had laughed loudly running towards the other courtyard. Tullia was looking at you, a bit confused. Decima came into the courtyard and made her way towards your voices.

“My lady?” She then looked at Norell in a rather angry way.

“I didn't say anything,” she said, holding up her hands.

"Come now, why are you keeping this from me?" you smiled at her.

Decima blushed.

“You're already sooo obvious.” Norell said smugly.

“What did you say?” Decima frowned and approached her and Norell turned around to run away. They ran into the courtyard and you followed. Decima cupped water from the fountain and threw it at her. Norell also did the same. They began to soak each other, laughing together. Norell ran towards you, intending to hide, but as Decima attempted to throw water at her again, the water hit you in the face, and you flinched when you felt the cold water on your skin.

“Gods!” Tulla cried out. She ran towards you. “My lady, are you alright? Look what you've done! Cease this nonsense now!” She yelled at them.

Mau had also got her share of a soaking, licking herself like mad to dry.  Decima and Norell were looking at you with guilty looks on their faces. But you, far from being angry, approached them with a serious expression and cupped the water from the fountain and threw in their faces. And a fun game began between the three of you. Tullia's grunts mixed with your laughter and echoed throughout the courtyard.

By the time the general arrived, you were still engaged in your game. Octavius was observing you at the door, perhaps not fully aware of his surroundings.  Marcus heard the loud, cheerful laughter and dismounted, heading for the courtyard with curiosity. He looked where Octavius was looking and was struck by the difference between this view and the one he saw every time he returned home. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before. He was at a loss as to how to react. He smiled as he recognized your cheerful laughter. Then he looked at Octavius, who looked like he was stunned.

“What are you looking at?” he yelled.

Octavius startled with his loud voice. “Sir!”

“You may leave Octavius,” he grumbled. How dare he watch my wife? he thought. Well actually he was watching someone else but still.

You all froze when you noticed him. Decima and Norell bowed to him and made their way away from the situation as quickly as they could.

“I'll get you some dry clothes, my lady,” Tullia said and ran out of the courtyard.

How great. They all left you alone with Marcus. He regarded you with interest as he approached. The stone floor was quite wet, as were your dress. You bit your lip, uncertain of his reaction. Fortunately, a smile soon appeared on his face, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

"I must apologise for not realising your arrival."

"No need to apologise, my love. There is nothing quite like coming home and hearing your cheerful laugh, which is music to my ears."

You had a sudden sneeze. It wasn't the most romantic answer. Marcus chuckled. “My Lady. You’re all soaked."

Before long, Tullia appeared with a clean dress and the cotton cloth to drying yourself. "If I may, my lady-“

“Give that to me.” Marcus kindly took the cloth from her hand and wrapped it around you. Upon seeing your feet, you instinctively drew them back, as if to hide them. You hadn't realised how wet they were. He smiled and gently took you in his arms, which made your cheeks flush. After all, Tullia was following you behind, carrying your dry clothes in her hands.

Your hand was touching the golden-edged leather strips on his shoulder. Playing with them by running your fingers between each strip. He smiled in response. Once you had entered the room, Marcus set you down. Tullia then placed the dry clothes she had brought for you on the bed, leaving the two of you alone in the room.

"Allow me," you said as you reached for Marcus' armour, but he gently pushed your hands back.

"You first. I do love seeing you like this, but I'm afraid you might catch a chill." His eyes were roaming over your body.

You held his hands and placed them around your waist. “Maybe you could warm me up then?” You smiled naughtily.

He smirked and his hands were already undressing you with haste. Once he had removed your belt and your damp stola, his eyes lingered on the tunic that clung to your body. You were now very aware of the reason for the sudden change in his eyes. That his gentle hands would soon become more impetuous. Even before you reached for the holster on his waist, his lips found yours. His hands were trying to remove your long tunic and you were trying to remove his armour, but it was difficult. When your wet tunic fell to the floor and gathered around your feet, Marcus pushed it aside with his foot, never breaking the kiss. You couldn't tell him to take off his armour because your lips were completely captivated by his. Grabbing you by the hips, he picked you up and put you on the edge of bed. You pulled yourself back with all your might, kneeling on the bed. His armour touching your wet and naked body was a little strange, although seductive. Marcus thought you were playing a game, so he tightened his grip on your lips, not allowing you to break the kiss. But as he tried to come towards you, putting his knee on the bed, the sword at his holster hit the edge. He looked down at himself in surprise and laughed.

“I tried to tell you,” you laughed and helped him out of his armour.

“I must have been under your spell, princess.” He grinned.

Once he'd taken off his armour, Marcus grabbed you around the waist and laid you back on the bed. You couldn't believe how excited you became each time, as if it was the first time he'd ever laid you down and positioned himself on top of you. Moreover, how could it be that each touch of his lips to yours felt so different from the other? It really amazed you that such a simple touch could evoke such strong feelings. Perhaps it was the endless blending of pleasures that this strong bond between you bestowed upon you. What a treat, what a magnificent and wonderful feeling. His lips and tongue were exploring every inch of your body as your bodies fit together perfectly, and you enjoyed one pleasure after another. It felt like there was no end to the adventure of exploring each other's bodies and their needs. Every time you encountered a new sensation and a lot of pleasure. Even Marcus, who was an expert lover, found this to be true. Despite his extensive experience, he had never made love to anyone before you, not even once. It was more than a sexual fulfilment. It satisfies his soul too, as he inhales your scent, touches you, tastes you, he feels complete, he feels alive. To him, you were made for him. The moment you got into his heart, everything lost its meaning; you and all the other insignificant things. You were born into his life like the sun into a dark, war-torn, blood-stained, boring, lonely world. You brought him light and purpose. From now on, he would live to serve you, to make you happy, to protect you from all evil. With you by his side, he was more likely to put his duties for Rome second.

“Marcus,” you moaned. He bent his head and kissed your lips, where you said his name. He didn't want to hear his name from anyone else's lips; only you had to say it, the others not allowed. They couldn't say it like you anyway. It wasn't even a possibility.

“What do you wish me to do, my love?” He whispered in your ear. His lips were caressing your earlobe.

You kissed his cheek and pulled his head towards you with your hands in his hair, it was your turn to whisper in his ear. “You know already.”

He grinned, of course he knew. His big hands gripped your hips tightly, deepening his thrusts and quickening his pace. As you moaned in response, he kissed you. Not to silence you, but to feel your beautiful voice within his very own mouth. Soon together you reached the overwhelming end of your pleasure, moaning into his mouth for the one last time. You remained in that intimate position for a while, breathing heavily. Feeling each other's hearts beating against your chests under your palms. Savoring this glorious moment.

The bright sunshine streamed through the window, illuminating the room with a warm glow. The soft breeze from the balcony caressed your still damp hair, causing you to shiver slightly and pull the sheet over your shoulders. When you heard the swallows chirping, you decided to open your eyes. Marcus wasn't with you in the bed. You frowned and sat up.

“Morning my beautiful wife.”

You turned your head towards his voice. Marcus was at his desk, looking pretty busy with a quill pen and some papers.

“Morning.” You gave him a smile. “Did I sleep for too long again?”

“Just a little,” he replied turning his head back down to continue writing something on the paper. You got up and put on your tunic. However, you then felt nauseous again.

“Excuse me,” you said covering your mouth with hand. Hurried out of the room. Marcus put his quill pen down on the table and stood up. He walked out of the room and followed you into the latrina, waiting outside the door.

"Aurelia, my love. I'm rather concerned."

As you stepped out of the latrina, he put his arms around you.

“Maybe I should call for another medicus?’

"I don't think that is necessary," you said as you walked back to the room together.Marcus helped you to sit on the edge of the bed. He crouched down in front of you, his hands gently smoothing your dishevelled hair.

"You said that you might get better if you rested. However, I can see you're still not feeling well." His face showed concern.

"I'm actually feeling better today." You mumbled. It wasn't a complete lie. The nausea wasn't as bad as it had been the day before. You felt you had no complaints, knowing what was causing this feeling. Marcus lifted your chin up with his hand. You didn't want to tell him before you were certain, but he was so concerned. He needed to know.

"I sense you're hiding something from me.”

You looked at him, blinking your eyes and inhaling a deep breath. "Marcus, I, um. I wasn't sure if I should tell you until I was certain..."

He looked at you from under his eyebrows. "Continue."

You took his hands in yours and looked into his eyes. "I believe I'm with child.”

Marcus froze. His eyes widened in surprise, his pupils dilated. Then the most marvellous smile appeared on his face. He kissed your lips, and his heart overflowed with bliss. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling towards him. He buried his face between your breasts, then slid it to your belly, planting kisses along the way. You felt his lips on your belly.

"What have I done to deserve you?"

“It might be too early to say for sure. Perhaps we should wait a little longer-“

His lips found yours suddenly. He put his knee on the edge of the bed next to yours and laid you back down. You wrapped your arms around his neck. Without breaking the kiss, he settled right next to you on the bed. He put one hand on your belly.

“My beautiful Aurelia,” he purred. “I love you, with all my heart and all my soul.” His warm breath caressed your face, your heart blossomed.

“I love you, Marcus. I love you much more than words can ever say.” You touched his cheek with your fingers. “I hope that I am carrying your child.”

“Our child.” he corrected you.

You smiled. “Our child,” you repeated.

He kissed you again, your heart beat with bliss, which soon turns into desire. “I shall spend all my days with you." He said huskily as his hands lifted up the hem of your tunic. “I shall spend all my time making love to you, over and over until our bodies become one.” His lips found yours again and soon turned into a hungry, lustful kiss. As he slid into your shaking body, and you moaned with exultation. This was love. This was blessing. Elysium on Earth.

Over the next few days, you tried a series of tests to find out whether you were carrying a child or not.One of the tests was a common one in Rome and Egypt. All you had to do was urinate in two different bags; one filled with barley and the other with wheat. If the grain in either bag sprouted after being peed on, it meant the woman was definitely with child.As it turned out, they were right. You saw the barley sprouting within a few days, and the wheat took a little longer. Decima said that meant you were carrying a boy. That's how you felt, they said it was a maternal instinct. You never thought of yourself as a mother, at least not this early. But it was indescribable happiness. Marcus was treating you with more tenderness than ever. You were delighted to be the cause of this amazing man having such wonderful feelings. It was a pleasure to see him so cheerful, and the others in the villa were equally pleased to share in his joy.

During this time, Marcus had been closely involved in the training of the soldiers at the Campus Martius (Fields of Mars) just outside the city. Macrinus had been absent for over a week and it was to be expected that he would soon reach Libya. As the general of the army, it was his duty to be prepared for any eventuality and to train his troops accordingly. No matter how busy he was, no matter how late he came home at night, at the end of the day, you found him in bed snuggled between your breasts and legs. You never complained as you wanted him so much as ever thanks to changes of your body that had led to heightened sexual desire.

That morning, when you were helping Marcus put on his armour, you mentioned Julia. It seems she was pretty desperate, even talking to him about Caracalla too.

"Geta is keeping her hidden," Marcus said as he checked the strings on his armbands, "It's likely that Caracalla will eventually find her. She may have a point about Caracalla being prepared to assign Macrinus as Praetorian prefect. However, he will need to return to accept it. I must finish him before he arrives in Rome." He said with determination.

"I suppose he will return soon, then?”

"He must be. I'm waiting for the messenger pigeon to come back. If the legion commander in Libya confirms he's arrived, I'll make the necessary preparations."

You swallowed, feeling concerned by the fact that he was about to fight Macrinus again. Marcus took your face in his hands.

"Please, do not be concerned, my lady. I gave you my word that you won't lose me."

You nodded. "You do what you need to do, my love."

"I will. For you." He put his hand on your belly. "For our child. I will do whatever it takes to make sure he grows up in a safe Rome, and with other Roman children.”

“I am certain you will.” You embraced him and rested your head on his chest, running your fingers through the contours of the medusa.

“Speaking of children,” Marcus said. You lifted your head to look at him.

“Hmm?”

“All the kids at the Poorhouse and the people there.” He murmured.

“I haven't been to visit them in ages. What about them?”

"You don't have to go. Please don't tire yourself out. I want you to stay here and get some rest. Besides, It seems that Geta is already looking after them in your absence."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “Really?”

"Yes, that does astonish me too. I find it unusual that he would spend his coins on something like that."

"He said he would, but I must admit I didn't expect him to keep his promise."

"You might be right about him. Maybe he could be a better emperor.’ You sensed the sincerity of his tone. "However, I tend to agree with Julia about Caracalla." He said, his face suddenly serious. "Every moment he breathes is detrimental to Rome.”

"Julia almost begged me to poison him."

He was checking his sword carefully. "No, that's treacherous. Even for him. He is an emperor, after all. It must be done honorably."

You felt tense. Or was he planning to act soon? He never mentioned it though.

He put his sword in its holster. "Enough politics, I think." He smiled. "I must take my leave now, my lady.”

For some reason, you felt a sudden sense of unease. "Will you be on duty at the Field of Mars today too?"

"That's correct," he replied after adjusting his armour for the last time. "Please don't engage in any risky things during my absence." He said in a commanding tone.

“I'll be making herbal tea, too dangerous,” you said mockingly.

He gave a little laugh and kissed your temple before leaving the room. As you followed him outside, you realised that the uneasy feeling inside you was getting worse. Maybe it was an unnecessary consequence of your new situation: worrying too much about everything. Marcus looked back at you one last time before heading out. You gave him a smile and then he left.

You made your way downstairs to the girls. You had little chat while they were engaged in weaving the carpet. There wasn't much else to do for the rest of the day, except lie down and rest. You visited Unio to feed her and brush her pearly-white mane with your fingers. Marcus had forbidden you to ride, not until the birth. He'd also told you not to go to the poorhouse, and you'd had to obey him on that one too. In the last few days you had become a little better with your knife and Marcus had admired you for it for the first time. But your overly anxious husband didn't want you to pick it up for a while either. Why did carrying a child have to be so boring?

In the evening, you were feeding Mau. Then you heard footsteps approaching from the courtyard.

"Domina!" The slave boy came running to you. He had that look on his face again, hesitation.

"What is it now?"

"The Emperor." He mumbled.

"Sister!"

You were quite taken aback to see Geta appear out of nowhere. He approached you and embraced you while you stared at him with your mouth hanging open.

“What are you doing here?”

Geta made a face. "Is this the manner in which you choose to greet me?"

"Well, apologies. I am simply astonished."

Geta looked around. "So this is your little house.”

You walked towards courtyard together. "Please have a seat, your majesty," you said, gesturing to him.

All eyes in the villa were on your emperor half-brother, who was seated comfortably on the armchair wearing a crown on his head and an overly flamboyant toga. You requested that the slaves bring you wine and fruit. Geta examined the wine glass and took a sip. As you observed him sitting where his mother had sat days ago, you came to recognise the differences between him and her. They were nothing alike. You were surprised that you had never realised this until now.

"It's been almost weeks, I've missed you a lot." He said suddenly. "How are you feeling now?" He looked you up and down.

"I feel better now, thank you." Your hands involuntarily went to your belly. You were unsure whether you should tell him or not. He was so unpredictable that it was difficult to guess the outcome of saying something like this to him. Perhaps it would be best to wait until your belly gets bigger before sharing.

"My mother," he suddenly said in a serious tone. You looked at him. "She's been here. I know what she told you.”

“You do?”

"As she gets older, her behaviour is getting worse. Don't take her seriously."

"Do you think so? What she said to me is something that should be taken seriously."

"You're right, it's horrible. Caracalla really has gone mad, but her intention of killing him... It's simply not right.”

"Is there something new about his madness?"

"Apart from the fact that became Macrinus' plaything? Well, he won't take me to any meetings anymore. He's got a new toy.”

“How you mean?”

"Macrinus' new right-hand man. He's like his shadow, taking care of things while he's away. I've never met him before, but my brother has already assigned him to the important tasks. I hadn't even been informed about it. Can you believe it?"

You thought about what Marcus said to you about Macrinus' spy. "Could he perhaps be one of the legates?"

"No, he's just come from the north. I don't think anyone knows him, not even the general, your husband."

"If Macrinus hid him like Gaius, I don't think he meant well."

"That's what I thought. You're clever, sister. I've missed talking to you. But not politically, of course." He grinned.

You smiled back. "You're helping your mother to hide from Caracalla, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am." He snapped, playing with his glass.

"What if he finds out?"

He shrugged. "That prick sent her without asking me, anyway." Suddenly Geta put his glass on the table and leaned towards you. "Aurelia, he's really out of control. I know Caracalla, always was, but this time it's different. He's hallucinating, dreaming, and that worries me. I know he'll hurt someone else, if not himself. Last time he nearly got me killed, all because of a stupid dream he had."

"Did you say hallucinations?”

He nodded. "I'm certain it's her. Mother. She did this to him. I gave her a clear warning, but she refused to listen. I'm asking you because you're the expert. Is it possible for a herb to have such an effect?"

“Many kinds of plants can do that. But how could Lady Domna possibly poison him?"

"Not directly of course. My slave caught her talking to another slave in the street. She is not aware, but I know everything.” He exhaled deeply. “She should never have come back, she'll get herself killed."

It was something that would endanger not only herself, but everyone including his own son Geta. How could she be so irresponsible? She must be mad for sure just like her son.

"If its on his drink or food, if I can examine it maybe I can help.”

Geta smiled smugly. “That's why I came here.”

He gestured to one of his slaves who was holding a small wooden box. Geta reached the box, opened and took out a vial filled with red liquid and handed it to you.

"Here. This is a sample of the wine he drank yesterday. Will that be enough?"

You took it, uncorked it and sniffed. As you were already highly sensitive to smells, this one smelled completely wrong.

"Yes, I think this would be enough. Let me observe this first.”

"You do that. I must return now. I don't want him to realize I left the palace and came here. He's rather mad and unpredictable more than ever." He stood up and put his hands on your shoulders. "If you happen to find out what it is, send me word. I'll send one of the slaves here. It seems that I can no longer trust my own guards. He is about to place them all under the control of Macrinus' rat."

You nodded. "I will see what I can do, brother."

Suddenly he leaned in, wrapping his arms around you. You tried to pull back, but it was futile.

“Geta,” you hissed. “You should not touch me like this. Please-“

“What's wrong with embracing my sister?” he said arrogantly.

You couldn't help but feel that he was right, but it still felt a little awkward. He laughed at the look on your face and leaned his head down to kiss your cheek. "Take care of yourself, sister. Hope I'll see you soon," he said, with a wink, and left the courtyard with his slaves following him behind.

Campus Martius. (Field of Mars).

General Acacius arrived there after completing his other duties at the barracks. The layout of this place is reminiscent of an army camp, with a number of small buildings.

“Attention! The general is here!” Octavius barked at the soldiers. They immediately stood at attention.

Acacius' eyes were fixed on the recruits. Some of them were pretty clumsy. He jumped down from his horse, squinting at them.

"Chin up! Chest out! Shoulders back! Suck your stomach in!” Octavius commanded, touching their shoulders to ensure they were doing it right. Then he ran to Acacius' side as he approached them. "Sir!" he nodded to him.

"Sir Octavius, these soldiers are struggling to get in line properly! This is how you train them?” he yelled at him.

That's what being a Roman General entailed, after all. Keeping an eye on the rookies and their commanders, supervising his second-in-command, training all the soldiers to keep the army ready for anything, constantly meeting with the Legates to assess the situation. Keeping track of the legions abroad was undoubtedly the hardest task. The army pigeon was the most efficient way to communicate. A trained pigeon could deliver a message in two or three days, whereas a soldier would take months to do the same.

He looked the soldiers in the face as he passed, tapping some on the shoulder to make sure they were properly in line. The soldiers saluted him by putting their hands on their chests. Some of them looked nervous.

“At ease!” Marcus shouted and the soldiers got into a relaxed position to continue their training.

Octavius walked with him towards the building where the Genaral's room was located. Cato was there, waiting for him outside his room. He saluted him.

“Cato, why you are not with the recruits?’’

"Sir, I wanted to let you know that the pigeon has arrived. I have placed it in its cage and I am waiting here to ensure its safety." He said it in a very serious manner.

Octavius chuckled. Marcus grinned.

“Are you thinking what I'm thinking?” Marcus asked him. They were both looking at Cato.

“I believe this prick using the bird as an excuse to avoid training.”

Cato opened his eyes wide. “Never, sir!”

"Who gave you permisson to talk back?" Marcus shouted at him. "Now get out of my sight before I train you myself!"

“Yes, sir!”

Marcus and Octavius laughed after he hurriedly picked up his sword and rushed out. "This boy is really...” He murmured.

"He's been working really hard lately," Octavius said, opened the door and waited for Marcus to enter.

“Do you believe so?” He entered the room and sitting down in his chair and putting his sword on the desk.

"I think he's ready for the platoon training. If you agree.”

Marcus opened the lid of the cage and took the small sealed paper tied to the pigeon's foot. "I still don't think he's ready. He must to learn to overcome his hesitation first." The seal belonged to the Eighth Legion. It was stationed in Leptis Magna, a likely place for Macrinus to visit. Marcus lifted the seal and opened the thin paper.

“My dear friend, the esteemed General Acacius. I Caius Drusus commander of eighth legion, salute you! I have dispatched my men to the harbour of Alexandria as you ordered, however both ships that came from Rome brought only armoury and provisions. Sir Macrinus or his men were not among those who disembarked. Also, we have received word of a few men gathering in the Syrian sector, which may be in line with your suspicions. We await your orders. Rome Victrix!”

Marcus crumpled the paper in his fist and squeezed it. Octavius figured it was bad news.

“Sir? What does it say?”

Marcus slammed his hand down hard on the desk, his whole body filled with anger. “Damn you Macrinus!”

Marcus found himself somewhat perplexed. He was certain that Macrinus was on his way to Ostia and that the ship was waiting for him there. But why hadn't he been seen in the harbour? Octavius picked up the paper he had crumpled up and read it with curiosity.

“How can this be?" He put his hands on the desk and looked at him. Or maybe he never actually left? Did he play a trick on us?"

Marcus was mulling it over. Why would he do that? What was he trying to act? He was such a clever enemy that he never gave away his trail. For Marcus, fighting was simple. It was easy to move your sword according to your enemies movement and cut him down. But playing mind games was tough. It was exhausting to think like your enemy, to anticipate his next move, to always try to be one step ahead of him. Especially when the enemy was someone who had the emperor in the palm of his hand. Could he be seeking retaliation? Or had he never left Rome? Marcus exhaled nervously.

“Octavius, I want you to place two men outside the villa.” He ordered, turning to him. “Is Felix still on Palatine Hill?”

"Yes, sir. He's positioned there as you ordered." He'll let me know if anything arises.

Marcus put his hand to his face, closed his eyes and sighed again. “We're missing something, Octavius.”

“What could it be, sir?”

“I'm not certain yet. But I'll find out. Make sure all the men are gathered in our usual place tomorrow night, in incognito. We shall talk over. Now leave me alone.”

“Yes sir,” he said and left the room.

Villa…

You had been studying the wine residue that Geta had brought you for most of the day, with the help of Decima and Norell. Despite making a few mistakes and experiencing a few setbacks, you eventually managed to identify the substance as the fruit of the Red Shanglu plant (Phytolacca acinosa). Given its red colour, it was a logical that it would blend well with wine.

“Why doesn't it kill him immediately?” Decima asked. She shook the vial in her hand.

"It's not a particularly poisonous plant. Or maybe the person who made it is inexperienced with it. However, even the smallest amount could cause brain damage. That's more dangerous than death,” you muttered.”

“What kind of fruit is this? Can we find it around here?” Norell asked.

“No, unfortunately not. It's probably a fruit from China or somewhere nearby.”

“Didn't the Empress come here from Syria?” Decima asked.

“Damascus is frequented by Chinese traders, couldn't she have brought it from there?”

“That is true.” When you were in Egypt,your uncle had purchased a number of plants from traders who came from Damascus to Alexandria. This was not an auspicious sign. It would be very difficult to create an antidote without the plant itself.

“So what are you going to do?” Norell asked.

“I need to to speak with Geta. I must inform him of this."

“But the soldiers outside, won't let you.” Decima murmured.

Right. Two of Marcus's men arrived at noon for some reason. You were certain that if you went with them to Geta, there would be tension between those two again. Moreover, it was already dark, and he must be on his way back.

You opened your small leather notebook to review the notes you had taken earlier and consulted the description of this plant. From what you can gather from your notes, it seems that reversing it is not an option. However, there was another fruit that could potentially help to mitigate and cure it. Acorus gramineus (commonly known as Japanese sweet flag). Of course. How you didn’t think of that? You recalled your Uncle Vicius with respect and found that his teachings had proved useful to you in your life. You promptly rose to your feet and took a moment to survey the shelves. This plant is a common genus used in Rome and other regions. You attempted to reach for the jar at the top of the shelves, but it was out of reach. You rose on tiptoe and reached as far as you could. Before Decima had a chance to get up and come over to help, another hand suddenly appeared and grasped the jar.

"I did warn you not to do anything dangerous, didn't I?” Suddenly Marcus appeared next to you.

You looked at him in surprise. When had he arrived? The girls greeted him and left the room. "Jars are now a source of danger to you, General?" You teased, took the jar from his hand and put it on the table.

Marcus smiled and approached you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He planted a tender kiss on your hair and breathed you in, finding your ear. “I missed you.” Then he kissed your cheeks, your nose and your forehead, making you giggle. Then he turned you to him and kissed you on the lips before you could even open your mouth to answer.

“I missed you too, my handsome husband.”

He chuckled and looked at the vials, herbs on the table. "It looks like you had as busy a day as I did.”

You took a deep breath. “I guess I did."

He put a hand under your chin and turned your head towards him. His eyes were already filled with curiosity. "Something has happened. Tell me."

You put your hands on his shoulders. "Geta was here."

He raised his eyebrows. "Your Emperor half-brother Geta?”

“I know no other Geta,” you laughed. But he didn’t.

““What did he want? Why did he come?” He asked in a rather stern tone. Just hearing his name was enough to make him angry. You place your hands on either side of his face. It had an instant calming effect on him, his expression softened immediately.

“You've just arrived, my love, you must be tired. We can talk while we eat."

You picked up a jar of jasmine from one of the shelves.

"I'll put it in our room, it smells nice and has a calming effect."

Marcus put the jar back and grasped your wrist. "There's no need, my love. Your smell is much nicer, and it's the only thing that can calm me down." He led you out of the room.

Once you had entered the courtyard, you requested that Tullia bring the food and walked to your room. Before heading for the stairs, Marcus stopped when he noticed Octavius and Decima talking.

“Why is he still here?”

You chuckled. He looked at you with questioning eyes. You grabbed his muscular arm. It was your turn to tug. “Come now, leave them be.”

“I now understand why he has been distracted lately.” He grunted as he climbed the stairs with you.

“Please don't be angry with him."

“I'm not. But I need to talk to him later.” He said after entering the room.

Your food was brought into the room while you helped Marcus take off his armor. As usual, Marcus sat you on his lap while eating.

"You know, I'm not sure if I'll be able to fit on your lap when my belly gets so big," you said as he fed you a grape.

“Nonsense. There's plenty of room for both of you on my lap," he said, opening his arms. You tilted your head to the side and snuggled into his chest. "As a matter of fact, I can hold three, four, five, or even more," he added, eating his food. You lifted your head to look at his face. "What are you going to do with so many children, General?" you asked, opening your eyes wide.

“I'm going to raise my own army,” he said, laughing.

You laughed too. “Since you are so lascivious husband, it is quite possible.”

“Is it just me? You are too, my sweet wife.”

Your cheeks flushed. “You made me,” you touched his shoulder with yours.

He bent his head and kissed your shoulder. “Pleasure is all mine, my lady.”

“Well, I didn't say I was grateful.” You teased.

As soon as you said that, he looked at you differently. You locked eyes. The atmosphere in the room suddenly shifted. You were well aware of why his eyes had changed. "Then I'll take you in such a way that you'll be eternally grateful." He bent down and kissed you passionately on the lips. His kiss became more intense as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He put his hands in your hair and drank so deeply from your mouth that you almost forgot how to breathe. But you wanted so desperately that you never wanted him to stop. Even more so now, you wanted him more than you ever had, and he seemed to be quite pleased about it.  Marcus helped you lie back against his arm. He pulled the hem of your tunic up your legs and pulled you back onto his lap. As he slid the straps of the tunic down your shoulders, you could feel him getting impatient under your hips. When his lips slid to your neck, you threw your head back to gasp for air. But then you gasped again as he started to play with your already very sensitive breasts. Just the touch of his warm tongue made you feel like it was going to send you over the edge.

“Hmm your breasts are so responsive than ever my love."

You were sure your cheeks were redder than wine. “It's simply expecting for this phase,” you said breathlessly. Your impatient fingers ran through his hair. You were eager for him to take you now.

“It only adds to your beauty. You are so beautiful to be real,” he said huskily. You kissed his neck in response. He grabbed you by the hips, lifted you up and laid you on the bed. Soon he was on top of you. You wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him to you. Or rather, you tried. He chuckled. “You are very impatient for someone who is not grateful, princess?”

You sighed. “I apologise, I shouldn't have said that. I'm so grateful, please, Marcus.” You squirmed desperately. It was one of your lustful husband's favorite moments. “Please what, my love?” He put his knee between your legs as slowly as he could.

"I want you," you purred.

His lips were on your earlobe, and the feel of his hot breath on your neck made you shudder.

"You want me where?" He teased. His fingers caressed your nipples, his glorious length brushing against your entrance which driving you mad.

"I want you inside me, please," you whimpered.

He smiled wide, like he won a victory. “I shall fulfill my princess’ desire.” And there he was, right where you wanted him most. You felt like you were going to explode with happiness and break into little pieces. You felt proud of yourself for making progress and getting to this point. Now you both knew each other's bodies and desires well. It was a progress you didn't expect from yourself, and it wasn't difficult at all. Everything was easier with him. Desiring him, kissing him, feeling his skin under your fingers – it was like a need for life. You needed him. You needed him inside you, on your skin, in the air you breathed, everywhere. With him, everything was beautiful and complete. Without him, everything was missing and lost. With him, you felt alive.

"I'm afraid I may be a little late tonight,” Marcus said as you tied the strings on his armbands. ”You'll keep your promise, won't you?”

Oh yes, your promise to him. After a lengthy discussion, he agreed to your proposal of preparing the herbal mixture for Caracalla, but he would prefer you to remain at the villa for the time being.

“I've positioned one of my men near Palatine Hill. One of the soldiers waiting outside will deliver it to him. So there's no need for you to go there," he said in a commanding tone.

You nodded. “I shall do whatever my husband says.”

A broad smile spread across his face. He wrapped his arms around you. “Say it again.”

You giggled. “I'll do whatever my husband says.”

“My ears have been blessed.” He pulled you to him and kissed you on the lips. He then sighed breaking the kiss. “I'm afraid I must take my leave now.”

“I know you'll come back to me eventually, so it will be easier to await for your arrival.”

He took your face in his hands. "You will wait my return, then, my lady?"

Of course you will, why did he ask such a question?

“I have waited a long time for you, Aurelia,” he said in his velvet voice. His expression was severe, the brown of his eyes warm, intense. “How could I not come back to you?” He kissed you on the temple. He grabbed a few strands of your hair, burried his nose in them inhaling your scent. You rose on tiptoes and kissed him with all the warmth of a woman in love. And he returned your kiss with all the joy and happiness of a man in love. If only Cato hadn't knocked on the door at that moment, you might have stayed there till night.

Once Marcus had left, you went downstairs to your little clinic-like room to make the herbal mixture. With the help of the girls, you managed to do it in less time than you expected. You did as Marcus told you and handed a vial of the mixture to one of the soldiers who were positioned outside the villa. He mounted his horse and headed to Palatine Hill.

As you sat with the girls until the evening, you found yourself feeling that strange sense of unease you had yesterday. It was just like that dream you had a few weeks ago. No matter how hard you tried to ignore it, you couldn't. And it didn't seem to go away until Marcus came back.

It was just after midnight and you were lying in bed playing with your wedding ring. Mau was sleeping peacefully next to you. But unlike him, you were far away, feeling peaceful. You couldn't sleep without seeing him return to you. Soon, however, you heard some horses neighing and murmuring, and your body filled with excitement. You quickly got out of bed. You wrapped your shawl around yourself and left the room, heading for the stairs. But you were halfway up the stairs when you saw the face of a man you didn't know. If you hadn't been holding on to the railing, you would have stumbled. One of the slaves stepped in front of the man, but he pushed him hard. From his clothes, it was clear he was one of the imperial guards. They usually kept their galea on, but not this man. At his command, five or six more soldiers entered the courtyard and all of them stood at attention. They were all dressed like imperial guards. You were wide-eyed, trying to understand what is happening, Decima ran up to you and held your hands nervously. Everyone in the villa woke up to the sounds and rushed to your side.

“You must be Princess Aurelia,” the man said, nodding then smiling weirdly at you. His eyes lingered too long on your body. You felt uncomfortable with the way he looked at you. You pulled your shawl tighter around your body. "Who do you think you are? I will not tolerate you entering my house at this time of night like a raider. I want to know who you are! Speak!"

The man laughed arrogantly. "My name is Flavius, my lady. You do not know me, but your husband does." He took a few steps towards you. "However, even if it's a very tempting idea, I am not here because of Acacius. As for your question, I am here by the command of your brother, the Emperor Caracalla. I shall take you to him."

You were both confused and afraid. "At this time of night? What is so urgent?"

"Oh, true. I forgot to mention the charges against you, forgive me." He smirked, gesturing to one of his men.

The man unfolded the scroll paper to read it aloud. "Princess Aurelia, you are under arrest by the command of the emperor. Your charges are; attempting poisoning of the Emperor himself, conspiracy behind his back, and aiding and abetting the exiled empress."

You swallowed, your heart pounding fast. It seemed likely that the ointment you had sent to Geta must have fallen into Caracalla's hands somehow. "I don't accept these charges! There must be a misunderstanding." you said.

"It doesn't really matter, my lady, I have been instructed to take you to Palatine Hill. And I will." The man came close enough to reach for your arm, but you stepped back.

"Lady Aurelia is the wife of General Acacius and also a princess. When the general returns home, they will go together to the emperor. Perhaps it would be inadvisable to take her by force, sir Flavius?” Tullia said firmly.

They knew each other? You wondered who he was.

”I remember you now. You stood up to me like this back then too. You may have aged but you're still stupid. Get out of my way at once!” Flavius barked.

Wiht Tullia's lead, the slaves and girls moving in front of you as if shielding you. The man sighed and drew his sword.

“No!” you cried.

“The Emperor's orders are final! Get out of my way or I will slay you all with my sword!”

“Do as he says!” You warned them, your voice trembling with fear. They regarded you with an uncertain expression.You held Tullia's hands. "Please, I don't want you to get hurt. I will be fine, I promise."

Then they bowed their heads and, with visible reluctance, withdrewing involuntarily.

You looked at him. “I should dress properly, first,” you said and headed for the room.

“I'm waiting, princess!” He said arrogantly.

How dare he talks to a princess like that? As soon as you walked in the room, immediately grabbed your scabbard and tied it around your ankle. You had to be prepared for anything. You put your hands on your belly, hoping everything would be fine. You put on your stola, look around the room one last time, opened the door and went out. Walked down the stairs, looking at the slaves who looked at you with concern. They were your friends, your family. You smiled at them reassuringly. The man named Flavius held out his hand to you. "My lady.”

You stepped towards outside, choosing to ignore him. Suddenly, you noticed Marcus' soldiers, who were brought to their knees with swords held at their throats by guards. "Put your swords away!" you barked them. But they looked at their commander. Flavius nodded. The men drew back their swords and sheathed them.

"General Acacius has entrusted us with the Lady Aurelia," one of the soldiers said. "We must accompany her.”

Flavius turned to him. "So that's what your General told you, eh? What if I don't let you then?"

The soldier looked at him sharply and drew his sword halfway, the sharp sound of the blade making you tense. "Then we'll have to stop you."

"No, please," you interrupted. You stopped the soldiers by raising your hands.

"My lady, please step aside. The general's orders are certain, and if we die for him, it would be an honour to do so."

Flavius laughed cruelly. “We must give him what he wants then!” He ordered to his soldiers and they all drew their swords once more. You were worried because they were outnumbered. Despite all of your objections, they began to fight. Flavius took hold of your arm and led you towards the carriage.

“Get your hands off me!” You struggled, but he was so strong. "Don't you hear me? I am your princess! You can't touch me!" You shouted at the top of your lungs but it was in vain. He made sure you were seated in the carriage and turned round. After his men killed Marcus' soldiers they mounted their horses at his command. Soon the carriage moved to take you to Palatine Hill. You couldn't stop your tears and sobs as you looked at the soldiers lying lifeless on the ground.

Marcus, where are you? you murmured as you gazed out the window, surveying the dark and gloomy streets.

A place just outside the city…

Marcus and Octavius are waiting in one of the dark streets, which is meant to be a secret meeting place. They're both wearing black cloaks. He had stationed a few of his men at key points in the city to be ready for any move Macrinus might make, and every now and then they hold a small, secret meeting in this gathering place. Secrecy was very important. It had to be late at night because it was an important matter that was only between them. But tonight there was something odd. None of his men showed up. They should have been here by now. Octavius looked down the road but didn't see anyone. They decided to wait a bit more, soon they heard footsteps coming closer. It was one of Marcus's men.

“General! Sir!” The man was out of breath. “Guards. Macrinus.”

Marcus touched his shoulder. “Easy. Breathe.” He told him. “Speak clearly. Why are you on your own?"

"Speak, Aris, what has happened?" Octavius growled.

"The imperial guards arrested all of our men and took them to Palatine Hill."

"On what grounds? What did they say?"

"Have you seen Macrinus there?" Marcus asked.

He shook his head. Suddenly there was the sound of  number of horses approaching towards them and they all tensed up.

"You were followed, you fool!" Octavius hissed.

Guards quickly surrounded and circled around them. One of them looked at Marcus. It was Flavius. “Acacius, It's been too long. Strange night, isn't it?” He jumped down from his horse. Marcus looked at him, astonished.

“Flavius?” He looked him up and down. He recognised his rank by his attire. “So you've been appointed commander of the guards? I thought you were up north.”

So he was the Macrinus' shadow man. He knew exactly what he was doing, Marcus thought.

“I returned a while ago,” he took a step closer to him. “Since I have unfinished business here. With you.” His voice sharpened.

Marcus remained still.

“You killed my brother, remember? You took him from me. And for what? For screwing your wife when you're in the south?”

Marcus clenched his fists. His body was filled with rage. He was dangerously on the edge.

"I've been looking forward to this moment for quite some time, Acacius. I have been waiting for the right moment to take what you have from you when you feel happy.”

Marcus grasped hilt of his sword. Octavius and Aris were ready, waiting for his command.

"So Macrinus made you his commander? Is this how you plan to get revenge on me?"

"He's a very clever man, I'll give him that. And he's determined to finish you, though not as determined as I am." He grinned.

"Right, so how do we do it? One on one? You and I?" Marcus drew his sword to half-length.

Flavius laughed. "You've already lost, Acacius, why should I bother?" He gestured for his man to read the emperor's order. The man unfolded the roll of paper. "General Marcus Acacius! You are under arrest by order of Emperor Caracalla! Your charges are; placing men in front of the emperor's house to spy on him, to command the armies for your own benefit, attempting to murder a member of the senate, abusing the title of general, going behind the emperor's back.”

"Right," said Flavius, coming over to him. He held his gaze. “The Emperor wants to see you. He'll be the one to decide your fate.” He approached him. “Just as he will decide your wife's fate.” He grinned with his teeth.

Marcus grabbed his throat with both hands. “What did you just say?”

The guards half-drew their swords and took up attack positions. Octavius and Aris gripped the hilt of their swords in response.

"Speak, or I'll rip your neck off!" he roared, his fingers gripping his throat tighter. Flavius seemed amused.

"Your wife, Aurelia, is a beautiful woman. I took her from the villa to Palatine Hill. I told you it was a strange night.”

Marcus punched him in the face and kicked him in the stomach, mad him fell to the ground. He then quickly drew his sword. In a flash he leapt on him and held his sharp sword to his neck. “If you say her name again, I'll cut your tongue off!” He barked. “Why did you take her there? Speak, damn you!” He was boiling with anger.

Flavius, however seemed calm. “Don’t be a fool, Acacius, if you kill me now, you'll get nothing. I'm only doing my duty.”

Unfortunately it was true, he could kill him and all the guards one by one, but that would only result in a higher charge being brought against him. Furthermore, Marcus's primary concern was you. He had to make sure you were alright, which meant he had to go to Palatine Hill with them.

Flavius ignored sharp sword pressing against his throat, laughing cruelly at him. “Revenge is a son of a whore, isn't it?”

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[odditycircus-2002]

Quan-Chi's Daughter Intros

A/N: Despite NO ONE asking for this. I decided to make these intros based on the reader from this request. Because of her backstory, my mind started concocting scenarios of her meeting certain characters besides her family. So, I hope y'all like this one.

Sub-Zero

Y/N genuinely: Even with your cryomancy, you have a warm soul.

Sub-Zero: Do not think it means I'll make this spar easier.

Y/N chuckles: I would be offended if you did.

/

Sub-Zero: Is it possible for you to restore Cyrax?

Y/N: Necromancy isn't my strongest suit, but I could try it for you, my friend.

Sub-Zero: That is all either Cyrax or I could ask for.

/

Y/N: How is D/N's training with your Lin Kuei faring?

Sub-Zero: She shows much promise but is reluctant to use her more demonic abilities.

Y/N: That's for the best ... for you AND D/N's sake.

/

Sub-Zero: You were there when Quan-chi remade Hanzo and Bi-Han into specters?

Y/N: I was, and while I could help Hanzo, I wish I could've done more for your brother.

Sub-Zero firmly: He is beyond saving, Y/N.

Night Wolf

Y/N: I still feel guilt for all my years working under Quan-chi.

Night Wolf: You’re not the only that harbors guilt for their past actions.

Y/N: Then we’re fortunate to have been enlightened before it was too late.

/

Night Wolf: Why are you so uneasy in my presence?

Y/N: Your Revenant was one of many that left his mark on me.

Night Wolf: I will do what I can to show, he is not who I really am.

/

Y/N: You allowed Hanzo to best you at the Tournament?

Night wolf: As you and I can both see, his path led to you and the revival of his clan.

Y/N sincerely: And for that, you have my gratitude.

/

Night wolf: Do not let your love for Hanzo become blinding.

Y/N: He opened my eyes to a world beyond the Netherrealm.

Night Wolf: I merely caution you to not mistake loyalty for blind obedience.

/

Johnny Cage

Y/N: You defeated Shinnok in Kombat?

Johnny Cage: Are you also going to say that's batshit insane?

Y/N: No, I wanted to thank you for doing so.

/

Johnny Cage: Man, you are hot as hell!

Y/N: That's because liquid fire runs through my veins.

Johnny Cage: Do you not know what flirting is?

/

Y/N: I'm sorry, but I'm happily married to Hanzo.

Johnny Cage: He's one lucky S.O.B to have tied the knot with such a hottie.

Y/N: I'm fortunate to have him in my life.

/

Johnny Cage: If you're a demon, where's your horns, fangs, and tail?

Y/N: I'm told my true face tends to intimidate humans.

Johnny Cage: It can't be as bad as Sonya waking up on the wrong side of the bed.

/

Raiden:

Y/N: As Dark Raiden, you frightened me.

Raiden: I can imagine many others share your sentiment.

Y/N: But not everyone could look at him, and could almost picture Shinnok in his place.

/

Raiden: Your daughter inherited your demonic abilities.

Y/N: I'm concerned about her losing control and doing something she'll regret.

Raiden: I trust you, and Scorpion trained her as well as you could.

/

Y/N: I may know how to keep Shinnok's amulet out of anyone's hands.

Raiden: What would be better than My Sky Temple?

Y/N: If you allow it, I would toss it into the Sea of Blood, far from anyone's reach.

/

Raiden: I wish to trust you, but it wasn't long ago that I saw you stand by your father.

Y/N: I left his side decades ago, and he then tried to have me killed.

Raiden: It's no surprise that Quan-chi doesn't value even his own family.

Spawn

Y/N: I left the Netherrealm for a good reason.

Spawn sympathetically: I'm afraid the Netherrealm is not through with you.

Y/N with a demonic reverb: It shall NEVER have me again!

/

Spawn: You remind me of someone I loved.

Y/N softly: Did you lose her?

Spawn: She's lost to me for all eternity.

/

Y/N: You were sent back to the mortal realm because you wanted to see your wife again?

Spawn: Just as you cut ties with your father and Hell to be with your husband.

Y/N: Now, we're both free to choose our destinies.

/

Spawn: You've escaped the Netherrealm while all its strongest fighters were after you?

Y/N: As my scars can attest, I almost didn't.

Spawn: You're lucky, then, that you didn't have to make a deal with the Devil to escape.

/

Noob Saibot

Y/N softly: I offer you mercy, Bi-Han.

Noob Saibot angrily: You think I need your pity?!?

Y/N: For you to be at peace, I have to free you of your shell.

/

Noob Saibot: You and your daughter fear the darkness within you.

Y/N: Shinnok and Raiden have shown me more than that absolute power corrupts absolutely.

Noob Saibot: You are both fools for not embracing your true potential.

/

Y/N: Sareena still speaks highly of you, Bi-han.

Noob Saibot: I am NOT the one she speaks of anymore.

Y/N: I know, so she'll be relieved to have you gone.

/

Noob Saibot: You married the man who killed me?

Y/N: I did, but I know what Hanzo did to you was unjust and unwarranted.

Noob Saibot: Then I'll take your life as retribution for him taking mine.

/

Cetrion

Y/N: Were my prayers ever heard?

Cetrion: Even from the Netherrealm, I could hear a small girl's pleas for a better life, but I could not intervene.

Y/N lowly: Then you know why I am here...

/

Cetrion testily: You assisted your husband in killing your father.

Y/N angrily: Quan-chi has been dead to me long before Hanzo took his head.

Cetrion: It is not surprising that a demon has no remorse for their sin.

/

Y/N: What makes you worthy of my worship?

Cetrion: I know you seek salvation for your compliance with Quan-chi's schemes.

Y/N: I will not seek that from someone who is compliant with Kronika's plans.

/

Cetrion: Your love and appreciation for life is virtuous.

Y/N: Then why are you so determined to end all of it?

Cetrion: Not end it, Kronika will start anew to restore balance.

BONUS: Shinnok

Y/N: Why in the 10 hells would my daughter ever serve you?

Shinnok: Because of your husband, it is her birthright to take Quan-chi's place.

Y/N with demonic reverb: D/N will not be yours to control!

/

Shinnok: Quan-chi should have beaten you as a child.

Y/N: What makes you think he didn't already try his best to break me every other way?

Shinnok: Obviously, it wasn't enough.

/

Y/N: All you have ever taught me about Death is false.

Shinnok: Then I have but one more lesson to teach you.

Y/N growling: I am DONE with your lessons.

/

Shinnok: Quan-chi's little songbird.

Y/N: I am neither his nor your pet bird any longer!

Shinnok: You are nothing more than lamb to the slaughter.

[whorxology]

can you write the sfw alphabet with percy? hihii i thought it was so cute and i really love ur writing style!!

- b 💖

A/N: AGHH OF COURSE I CAN. This is my first request and I’m so excited. I'm so happy you enjoyed my writing :3 Thank you so much for request B 🫶🏼

⛧☾༺♰SFW Alphabet♰༻☽⛧

PAIRING: Percy Jackson x Reader

WARNINGS: Established Relationship, Swear Words, Possible spoilers for TLT, Kissing, Making Out, OOC Percy.

W.C: 3.05k

A/N: I have not read the books only knowledge I have of Percy is from the movies, TV series, and multiple fics I have read. While making this I have Logan Lerman Percy Jackson in mind but feel free to imagine him as you wish. With that being said this is purely for fun and these are just my headcannons. You are more than welcome to disagree and leave feedback.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Percy is the personification of affection. Whenever he's around you (which is always) he has to have your attention directed towards him. His love language is obviously touch so numerous hugs and countless kisses throughout the day. He's not afraid of PDA hell he's proud to show you off as his. He'll kiss you like there's no tomorrow when he leaves. Only to be back an hour later. When he's with you he will always be touching you in some sort of way. Hand on the small of your back, holding your hand, arm wrapped around your waist any way for him to remind himself that you are not going anywhere.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

You would be at camp before he was, it would be similar to his and Luke's dynamic (Minus the betrayal). You would be friends with Luke, meaning he would introduce Percy to you. Percy being Percy would go straight into his usual sassy self. Seeing as you and Percy were much closer in age you and him would hit it off. He found himself as protective, as loving, as sarcastic towards you as he was towards Grover.

After being told that someone he calls a friend would betray him he didn't think it would be you or Luke (He was definitely wrong about one of those) and when it was found out to be Luke he kinda ices you out. He thought that considering how close you and Luke were you had to know. When he finds out that you really didn't know about Luke he lets you back in. Slowly as if he's still on guard and worried about you suddenly also being with Kronos.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Percy is touchy in public when it's just the two of you he practically lives and breathes in you. If you are in his cabin (Which is always because he has his own cabin) then he'd love to lay on your chest, arms secured tightly around your waist, and your legs wrapped securely around his waist. Like a koala on a branch.

Sometimes when Percy has had a rough day he likes to cuddle with you in his lap. Having your hands tangled in his hair while his hands drift from tracing your spine to caressing your hips. Your legs are on either side of his thighs as his legs are slightly bent pushing you further into him.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

When it comes down to settling, Percy would love to be with you for the rest of his life. However, the idea of having children with you would concern him a little. Not because he doesn't want kids with you more rather because he wouldn't want to put you or the children in danger. If you guys did have kids he would certainly wish for all boys but the second your baby girl was born he'd adore her with every fiber in his being. She'd so be spoiled and reign over her brothers.

Percy sucks at cooking but at least he's better than Luke. He knows how to cook the basics eggs, spaghetti, blue cookies, etc. He'd always try though. For you, he's willing to learn loving the way your eyes light up when you eat whatever concoction he made up with. Even when it's not edible.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

No. Percy would rather be dragged into the depths of Tartarus than break up with you. Oh lord and if you tried to break up with him. Good luck.

"Percy I think we should break up" "No" "No? What do you mean no this isn't your choice" "You're right it's OUR choice and I said no" "Percy this isn't up for negotiation" "I know I said no and that's it, sweetheart you are not getting rid of me that easy nice try tho" " I hate you" "You know you love me"

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

From the moment Percy saw you he knew you'd be the end of him. He'd be anything you'd want him to be. A friend, a best friend, ..... a lover. He knew that if you just wanted to be friends he would be by your side through everything, If you wanted him to be a lover he'd probably run through camp cheering then run back to you and twirl you around. He'd be yours from the moment you saw him.

The only marriage he saw growing up was his mother's and Gabe's. He knew he would be nothing like Gabe. He would want to marry you whenever you were ready. He would be the best husband he could possibly be.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Physically Percy is strong. Like really fucking strong he killed a minotaur by himself at age 12 During training sessions, he goes easy on you unless you tell him not to (Even then he's still holding back). Other times Percy would try his best to be softer around you in fear of hurting you.

Emotionally Percy is deflective. Percy isn't the type to sit down and talk about his feelings. When his feelings get too much he tries to ignore them. He asks about your day, he's overly active in camp activities, he's up and about. When it comes to your emotions Percy tries his best to comfort you. He is not entirely sure how to handle emotions too well but he tries.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Percy hugs you as if you are going to disappear. He hugs you any chance he gets. He'll come up to you and wrap his hands around your waist while yours go around his neck. Stupid grin on his face while you and him rock back and forth. Or sometimes when you're busy he'll come up and hug you from behind head resting on your shoulder watching you as you do whatever it is that you're doing. His hands always soothingly slip under your shirts the feel of your skin on his makes him feel at peace.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Percy knew he loved you since he first saw you so of course he would say it rather fast. Most of the time it was a quick "I love you" before he ran off to do gods know what but on your first date he looked into your eyes and practically bared his soul to you and said in the most hushed voice "I love you" as if this time he feared you would disappear or would suddenly realize you deserved better.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Percy wasn't the type to get jealous. Only because he didn't have a reason to be. Everyone in camp knew he was your boyfriend. No one dared to make a move on you especially when your boyfriend killed a minotaur at 12 and is the son of Posiden. However, when an old friend of yours showed up in camp things went a little sour. The newcomer was not only gorgeous with his wavy blonde hair, beautiful tan skin, and piercing honey-brown eyes but he was naturally funny, talented, and really fucking flirty. He'd always be with you and seeing as you were an old friend you felt obligated to show him around. When Percy found out that this hunk was an ex of your good gods was he beyond jealous. He immediately stuck to your side and made sure Mr. Supermodel knew that he was yours and was not going to be replaced.

He'd call you baby, love, and doll in literally everyyyyy sentence. He'd take your hand and interlace it with his and examine your hands together very visibly while you talked to your friend. He'd stare at your friend as he kissed your cheek. While you were mid-sentence he'd whisper something in your ear that would either make you lose focus by giggling or turning bright red while being speechless.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like?)

Percy can hold his breath for quite some time so his kisses are so long you feel as if you'd faint. Percy kisses with his all. Trying to get in your skin basically. He'll wrap his arms around you or pin you to a wall and push himself impossibly closer to you. He loves to kiss you anywhere he can. Your hands, your lips, your arms, your legs, as well as other places of course.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Percy can not be trusted around children. Swear if you left a child with Percy they would learn enough curse words to make Hades himself gasp in shock. If they're older and a bit more hardheaded leave it to Percy to knock em around. With the younger kids at camp, he'd definitely scare them a few times while training.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Percy is not a morning person. Most of the time you'd wake up, manage to get ready, have breakfast, and have at least 2 training sessions before he even stumbled out of bed. On the rare occasions when Mr. D dragged Percy out of bed and into the mess hall Percy would manage to say at least 2 sarcastic comments to and behind Mr. D's back and sneak in a least 3 cuss words before promptly falling asleep with his head smashed into the table.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Since Percy has his own cabin you and him often spend the nights together there. The two of you are entangled within each other grasp. Since your cabin was fuller than Percy's you would stash some of your belongings in his cabin per his request of course so that it felt more like your place too. You had a mushroom blanket that you crocheted years ago that Percy had draped over his bed. It wasn't at all symmetrical or pretty since it was the first one you ever made but Percy cherished it nonetheless. You'd often times sneak out of his cabin with him and go to the lake. He loved to be in the water and you loved to be with him. You'd stay out way past curfew and swim until your legs burned and your fingers were prunes.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Percy would unknowingly say things around you that made you wonder out loud about his past. It took him some time to open up but after you guys got together he'd tell you all about his life over a short span of being together. You'd be in the lake with his arms around his neck and legs around his waist as he told you about his mom. He told you about her smile, her hugs, her famous blue cookies. His eyes would sparkle brighter than the stars themselves as he talked about her.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Percy is impulsive but he does not lack patience. If anything he has more patience than most. He knows this and he uses it to his advantage. Seeing as he makes everything around him into some kind of joke he loves to antagonize his enemies into attacking first so he can learn more about them. The only times when he'd lose his patience is when someone would talk about his mother. his friends, or you in a negative tone.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Percy's mind is all over the place. He doesn't remember which Disney princesses you were obsessed with in 4th grade but he does know the story behind your name. He seems to forget the bigger details and rather latches onto the smaller the ones that others seem to forget about. He doesn't remember your favorite artist but he does remember the beat of that one song you loved as a child but were never able to find the name of.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Percy's favorite memory in your relationship was the moment you said I love you back to him. Percy would always say "I love you" before running off. This time you had told him you were going to sword train with Annabeth and he said that he loved you and that he would find you later he had to see Grover. Percy was shocked when you pulled him back by his armor and kissed him deeply before almost breathlessly whispering that you "loved him too". He practically skipped his entire way to Grover and was blushing the whole time.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Percy is extremely protective over you. Not in an overbearing way because gods know you can handle yourself but Percy would rather be there for you and keep you safe than find you in a position that would require you to protect yourself. In Capture the Flag when you are on the opposite team he finds ways to flirt with you instead of fighting. When he and his teammates stumble upon you and your teammate he tells him that he has you when in reality you most likely end up holding a sword at his throat while you straddle him playfully of course.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Percy will gift you the moon if he thinks it will make you happy. Every morning you'd wake to a single flower from him. Every day was a different flower. It surprised you how he even managed to find so many. Every time you'd receive a flower from him you'd book press them. Yes, it took a long time but they looked beautiful once they were done and framed.

On dates and anniversaries, Percy would tell you the night before to be at his cabin at 10 pm and to dress comfortably. The next day you'd wake up and he'd be gone. That whole day you wouldn't see or hear a single peep from him. The first time he did it you freaked kinda worried that something had happened to him. Grover told you he was doing Percy things and just to be at his cabin. Of course, Percy would be there and he'd take you for a stroll through the forest that led to a lighted picnic area. He'd leave camp to personally get you your favorite takeout, a new book to add to your forever-growing collection, and a new pack of Polaroids for your camera. How he got the money he'd never tell. All that mattered was that these were gifts that he knew you'd love. After the forest, he'd take you to the beach and you guys would swim till well past curfew. Having to run away soaking wet, clothes in hand, giggling manically as Mr. D almost catches y'all.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Swearing. Look swearing is fine we're young adults and there's nothing wrong with it. However, Percy has a really bad habit of dropping curse bombs all the time. Around your peers, the younger kids, hell even Chiron. The face he makes when he realizes he very loudly said "what the fuck" around Chiron is always funny.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Percy has some self-esteem issues deeply rooted in him from his childhood. He'd never consider himself to be jaw-droppingly gorgeous. Not like you of course. You'd tell him how gorgeous and he'd just blush your words making him feel prettier. Eventually, you'd have to knock him down a few pegs or else he'd turn into a bobblehead.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Percy is attached to you. Like deep-rooted attached. He wouldn't be able to focus on anything if you were gone for a long time. He'd constantly think about you and become worried the longer you were gone.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Once you and Percy start dating and he's more comfortable with you he's so gossipy. He will literally be so involved in the tea you tell him and vice versa. When he hears something really juicy from the other campers he practically runs to you to tell you.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Dishonest and Disloyalty. Loyalty is Percy's biggest moral. If you were disloyal to him it would sever any friendship/relationship with him (Luke). Along with honesty. If you are loyal to someone, truly care for them, or even just mean well then why would you lie.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

When Percy first joined camp he couldn't sleep too well the nightmare of his mother getting crushed replaying over and over in his head. Eventually with you by his side, he was able to have a better sleep schedule.

He tosses and turns a lot in his sleep oftentimes accidentally bruising you in the night. You'd have small bruises on your legs from where he'd kick you and smaller ones on your arms from where he would accidentally elbow you as he turned. He'd also have bruises from where'd you kicked him back of course he was such a heavy sleeper he'd never wake up and wouldn't notice till days later.

[skz-streamer]

Sensitive S/o

Pairing: Skz x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst/Misunderstanding?

Warnings: Sensitivity? Slight crying, weights, frustration, small arguments...Im not really sure what to put here so lmk if I missed anything :)

Notes: ARGHHHH I HAD SUCH A HARD TIME TO COME UP W DIFF SCENARIOS SO IM SORRY IF ITS A LITTLE WORDYYY :((( Suchhh a cute ask though thank you lovely anon The Ask :)

Summary: Skz and their sensitive s/o

-please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people

Full word count ~4.8k ;)

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Chan:

"So, Y/N," Chan began with a cheeky grin, "did I ever tell you about the time I tried to cook dinner for the members?"

You chuckled, your heart fluttering at the familiar tone of his voice. "No, you haven't! Do tell."

Chan launched into a hilarious account of his culinary mishaps, imitating his fellow members' shocked expressions as they took their first bites of his concoction. You couldn't hold back your laughter, and your eyes sparkled with delight as you listened to his animated storytelling.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, the two of you settled onto a park bench. The conversation flowed effortlessly, jumping from one topic to another. Chan's arm rested casually around your shoulders, and you leaned into his comforting presence. His jokes and lighthearted banter continued, wrapping you in a cocoon of happiness.

A mischievous glint danced in his eyes as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Hey, Y/N, did you know that you're the only person who can keep up with my terrible puns?"

You laughed, rolling your eyes playfully. "Oh please, Chan. Your puns are legendary. I just try my best to match the greatness."

He grinned a warm and affectionate smile that made your heart flutter. "Well, you succeed spectacularly"

As the conversation flowed, your heart felt light, and the world seemed to slow down around you. But just as the laughter and stories continued, there was a shift in the atmosphere. Chan's teasing took a slightly sharper edge, and a comment that was meant to be a joke struck a chord in you.

"Come on, Y/N, don't be such a crybaby," he teased lightly, not realizing the weight his words held for you.

Your smile faltered, and you felt a pang of hurt deep within. You knew he didn't mean any harm, but sometimes, even the lightest remarks could trigger a sensitive nerve. You tried to shake it off, forcing a chuckle as you replied, "Yeah, yeah, I know. Just can't handle the master of puns, that's all."

But Chan noticed the change in your demeanor, his keen eyes picking up on the shift in your tone. His expression softened as he realized his words had landed differently than intended. "Hey," he said gently, his voice a warm reassurance, "I didn't mean it like that, Y/N. You know I'm just messing around, right?"

You nodded, your throat tightening as you struggled to keep your emotions in check. You hated how easily certain comments could bring tears to your eyes, even when you knew they were meant in jest. But it was hard to shake off the sensitivity, a part of you that you sometimes wished you could control better.

"Hey," Chan's hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had escaped. "It's okay, really. I didn't mean to upset you."

Your lips quivered into a small smile as you looked into his eyes, grateful for his understanding. "I know, Chan. It's just…."

He sighed softly, pulling you into his embrace. "Y/N, you don't have to help it. Your feelings are valid. If something bothers you, it's okay to feel that way."

As his arms encircled you, a warm sense of comfort enveloped you. Chan's soothing words seeped into your heart, reminding you that you were allowed to feel whatever you felt. You leaned into his chest, tears wetting his shirt, and he held you tight.

"You're strong, you know," he murmured into your hair. "Being sensitive doesn't make you weak. It means you care deeply, and that's a beautiful thing."

You sniffled, laughing softly through your tears. "Leave it to you to make me feel better, even when I'm being silly."

Chan's fingers brushed gently against your back as he rubbed soothing circles. "I'll always be here for you, Y/N.”

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Lee Know: 

As the credits rolled on the screen, Lee Know let out a content sigh. "That was a good movie, huh?" he said, his voice a soothing rumble against your ear.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, I enjoyed it. Thanks for picking it."

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "Anything for you, babe."

You felt a rush of warmth at his words. It was moments like these that made you appreciate how considerate and caring Lee Know was. He had always been attentive to your needs, and you cherished the way he understood you.

But just as the credits faded to black, your blissful moment was interrupted by a sudden noise from outside the window. It was a car alarm going off, and the loud blaring sound pierced through the tranquility of the room.

You winced at the sudden noise, and Lee Know tightened his grip around you, his protective instinct kicking in. "Ugh, that's so annoying," he muttered, annoyance evident in his tone.

You nodded in agreement, but something about the noise seemed to have unsettled you more than you anticipated. Your heart raced, and your eyes began to sting with unshed tears. You tried to shake off the feeling, reminding yourself that it was just a trivial noise and there was no reason to get upset.

Lee Know sensed the shift in your mood and looked down at you, concerned furrowing his brow. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked gently.

You sniffled, your voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just... the noise startled me, I guess."

He frowned, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear that had escaped your eye. "You sure that's all it is?" he asked softly.

You nodded, avoiding his gaze. You knew your reaction was disproportionate to the situation, but you didn't want to burden him with your irrational emotions. You had always been sensitive, and sometimes it felt like a weakness.

Lee Know's eyes softened as he cupped your cheek, turning your face to meet his gaze. "You don't have to hide anything from me, you know," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "If something's bothering you, I want to know."

Your lips trembled, and you felt another tear slide down your cheek. "I know I shouldn't be this upset over a stupid noise," you admitted, your voice cracking. 

Lee Know's expression turned gentle, his thumb brushing away your tears. "Hey, it's okay to feel things deeply," he said softly. "That's just who you are, and there's nothing wrong with that. You're not weak for being sensitive, you're strong for embracing your emotions."

You sniffled, feeling a mix of vulnerability and relief wash over you. "But I feel like I'm burdening you with my emotions," you confessed, your voice barely audible.

He shook his head, his eyes unwaveringly locked onto yours. "You could never be a burden to me, Y/N," he said, his voice filled with conviction. "I love every part of you, even the parts you might consider flaws. And I'm here to support you through everything, even the moments when you feel overwhelmed."

As he spoke, you felt a warmth envelop you, like a protective shield against your own insecurities. His words were a balm to your wounded heart, soothing the self-doubt that had been festering within you.

"I don't want you to ever feel like you have to hide your emotions from me," he continued his voice tenderly. "We're a team, and that means sharing both the good and the tough moments. So, if something's bothering you, let me in. I promise I'll always be here to listen and support you."

You nodded, tears still trickling down your cheeks but now with a sense of acceptance. Lee Know pulled you into a warm hug, his arms cocooning you in a sense of safety and understanding. He held you tightly, letting you know that he was there for you, no matter what.

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Changbin: 

Amid the bustling gym, the clanking of weights and the steady rhythm of treadmills formed a backdrop to the scene. You were there with Changbin, trying your best to push through a particularly challenging exercise. The weights felt heavier than usual, and frustration began to bubble up within you as you struggled to complete the set.

Changbin, ever attentive to your emotions, noticed the change in your demeanor. He had a knack for picking up on your subtle cues, the way your brows furrowed just a bit more, and the determined set of your jaw turned into a slightly defeated slump. As you lowered the weights and sighed, he could sense that something was bothering you beyond just the physical challenge.

"Hey, you're doing great," he said gently, his voice a soothing presence amid your turmoil. "Remember, progress takes time. We all have our off days, and that's completely okay."

You managed a weak smile, appreciating his support even if it didn't entirely erase your frustration. "I know, but it's just frustrating. I used to be able to do this without any issues, and now..."

Changbin's hand found its way to yours, offering a reassuring squeeze. "It's natural for things to change over time. Our bodies adapt, and sometimes that means facing new challenges. But you're not alone in this. I'm here with you every step of the way."

As you attempted the exercise again, a combination of fatigue and your emotional sensitivity made your eyes prickle with tears. You couldn't help but feel frustrated with yourself for getting so worked up over something that seemed trivial in the grand scheme of things. But that was the thing about emotions—they didn't always follow a rational path.

Changbin noticed the glistening in your eyes and immediately put down the weight he was holding. He gently cupped your cheeks, his thumbs wiping away the tears that escaped. "Hey, it's okay. You don't have to be so hard on yourself. Your feelings are valid, whether they're about something big or small."

You sniffled, embarrassed by your vulnerability. "I know it's silly, but I can't help feeling like this."

Changbin's warm gaze never wavered, his fingers tenderly brushing against your skin. "You're not silly for feeling things. We all have moments when certain things hit us harder than they should. It's part of being human, and it's what makes you, well, you."

You appreciated his words, his understanding, and the fact that he didn't dismiss your emotions. It was something you loved about him—the way he allowed you to feel without judgment, even when you were grappling with feelings you didn't quite understand yourself.

Leaving the weights behind, Changbin led you to a quieter corner of the gym. He sat down with you, his arm draped over your shoulders as you leaned against him. "You know, sensitivity can be a strength too."

You sighed, feeling the tension slowly melt away as his comforting presence enveloped you. "I guess so. I just wish I could control it better."

Changbin pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "You're doing just fine, trust me. And if there's ever a time when something bothers you, all you need to do is tell me. I'm here to listen."

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Hyunjin: 

You and Hyunjin find yourselves in the midst of a painting session. The room is drenched in soft, natural light, casting a warm ambiance that should have fostered creativity and joy. Hyunjin is passionately absorbed in his work, brushstrokes gliding across the canvas with determination. You, however, struggle to bring your vision to life. Frustration simmers beneath your surface as you attempt to replicate the vibrant image in your mind.

You swipe the brush across the canvas, the result falling short of your expectations once again. A sigh escapes your lips, caught between the desire to excel and the feeling of inadequacy. Hyunjin glances over, noticing the shift in your demeanor. Concern creases on his features as he puts his brush down for a moment.

"Hey, everything okay?" he asks, his voice a mix of genuine curiosity and worry.

You look up, forcing a smile. "Yeah, I'm just having a bit of trouble getting it right."

Hyunjin steps closer, his gaze softened by understanding. "You know, it's not about getting it perfect on the first try. Sometimes you have to let go of expectations and let your instincts guide you."

As he speaks, you feel a mix of gratitude and frustration. You appreciate his attempt at encouragement, yet the weight of your self-criticism is hard to shake off. You nod, trying to absorb his advice.

But as time passes, your painting continues to deviate from your vision. With each misstep, your frustration mounts. Hyunjin, noticing your growing agitation, offers more guidance – albeit in a way that inadvertently fosters further frustration. His words come out more as critiques than suggestions, and before you know it, your patience snaps.

"Why can't you just let me figure this out on my own?" you burst out, the words carrying a tinge of hurt that takes Hyunjin by surprise.

He freezes the brush still in his hand. "What? I'm just trying to help."

"I know, but it feels like you're just criticizing everything I do!" Your voice wavers, anger and hurt tangling in your chest.

Hyunjin's frustration is palpable, too. "I'm not criticizing. I'm just trying to guide you towards improvement."

"Well, maybe I don't need your constant guidance!" Your voice quivers, the sting of your sensitivity gnawing at you. You hadn't meant for your emotions to escalate so quickly, but here you were – caught in a one-sided argument, tears pooling in your eyes.

Hyunjin's features shift from frustration to confusion as he registers your tears. "Hey, why are you getting so upset?"

Your gaze drops to the floor, shame mingling with your tears. "I don't know, okay? I shouldn't be reacting like this, but I am."

Hyunjin's expression softens as he takes in your vulnerable state. He realizes that this isn't just about the painting; it's about something deeper – a sensitivity that you both know you possess. He lowers his brush, stepping closer to you.

"I didn't mean to make you feel this way," he says, his voice gentler now. "I forget sometimes that not everyone responds well to the way I communicate."

You sniffle, wiping away a tear. "It's not just you. It's me too. I know I shouldn't let things like this affect me so much, but I can't help it."

Hyunjin sighs, his gaze sincere. "You know, sensitivity isn't a weakness. It's just a part of who you are. And I should've been more considerate."

Your eyes meet, a mixture of emotions passing between you. "I'm sorry I snapped at you," you mumble.

Hyunjin places a hand on your shoulder, a warm smile forming. "It's alright. We both have our moments. Let's just take a breather and come back to this later, okay?"

You settle on the couch, the unfinished canvas a silent reminder of your earlier frustrations. Hyunjin wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. "You know, I admire your sensitivity. It means you care deeply about things, and that's a beautiful trait."

You lean into his embrace, finding comfort in his words. "Even when it leads to moments like this?"

He chuckles softly. "Especially then. We're both a work in progress, learning how to navigate each other's emotions."

You smile through the lingering tears, feeling a weight lifting off your shoulders. "I'm lucky to have you."

Hyunjin presses a kiss on your temple. "And I'm lucky to have you. We'll figure this out together, one painting stroke at a time."

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Jisung:

You and Jisung are having a fun-filled game night at your apartment. The coffee table is covered with an array of board games and card decks, and laughter fills the air as you and Jisung engage in friendly competition. It's supposed to be a lighthearted evening, a chance to unwind and enjoy each other's company.

As the game progresses, Jisung's playfully competitive side shines through. He throws out witty comments and playful jabs as he wins rounds and makes strategic moves. His remarks have you laughing alongside him, but one comment catches you off guard and hits a nerve.

"Wow, you're not having a good luck streak tonight," he teases, a grin on his face.

You force a chuckle, but the comment stings more than you'd like to admit. You've been feeling emotionally sensitive lately, and the comment, while meant in jest, resonates with your current state of mind. You glance down at the game board, your enthusiasm waning slightly.

Jisung notices the shift in your demeanor, his expression softening with concern. "Hey, are you alright? I was just joking."

You offer a small smile, "Yeah, I know. Just got lost in thought for a second."

He nods, but his gaze lingers on you for a moment before returning to the game. Despite his attempt to move on, you find yourself feeling more affected by his comment than you expected.

You try to push aside the sensitive emotions that have been triggered. You focus on the games, engaging in the banter and laughter just as you always do. But in the back of your mind, that comment lingers, creating a subtle discomfort.

As you play another round, you notice that your thoughts are a bit scattered. You make a strategic move, but it doesn't quite go as planned. Jisung's playful teasing takes on a different tone in your ears, reminding you of the earlier comment.

"Ouch, looks like you're having an off night," he remarks, a grin on his face.

You glance at him, forcing a smile, but inside, you feel a pang of sensitivity. You didn't want his comments to affect you so much, but here you are, struggling to shake off the emotions they've stirred.

As the game night continues, you feel the weight of your sensitivity growing. You try to brush off the discomfort, but it's becoming increasingly challenging. You want to enjoy the evening and the company, but the comment has struck a chord you can't ignore.

Eventually, you decide that a break is in order. You put on a smile, hoping to hide your feelings and excuse yourself to the bathroom. You get up from the table and make your way to the restroom, closing the door behind you with a sigh.

Inside the bathroom, you lean against the sink, trying to gather your thoughts. The emotions you've been suppressing finally spill over, and you find yourself sniffling softly. You hadn't anticipated that a lighthearted comment during game night would trigger such a strong reaction.

Outside the bathroom, Jisung's concern hasn't faded. He knows you well enough to sense when something's wrong, even if you try to hide it. After a few minutes, he decides to check up on you. He approaches the bathroom door, his hand gently resting against the wood.

"Hey, is everything okay in there?" he asks softly.

You take a moment to compose yourself, wiping away your tears. "Yeah, I just needed a moment."

He doesn't sound convinced, and you hear a soft sigh from the other side of the door. "You know you can talk to me, right? If something's bothering you?"

His words resonate, and you realize that he genuinely cares. The vulnerability you'd been trying to suppress feels overwhelming at this moment. With a shaky breath, you open the bathroom door, revealing your slightly teary-eyed state.

Jisung's concern deepens as he takes in your appearance. Without hesitation, he pulls you into a comforting hug. "Hey, it's okay. You don't have to pretend with me."

Tears escape despite your efforts to hold them back, and you bury your face in his shoulder. Jisung holds you close, his touch a soothing balm for your frayed emotions.

"I'm sorry," you manage to whisper, your voice shaky.

Jisung pulls back slightly, his fingers gently wiping away your tears. "Don't be sorry. It's okay to feel how you feel."

You take a deep breath, the weight of your sensitivity slowly easing as he offers his understanding and comfort. "It's just that... your comment earlier, hit me harder than I thought."

Jisung's expression shifts from concern to realization. "Wait, the thing I said during the game?"

You nod, feeling a mix of relief and vulnerability in sharing your feelings with him.

He lets out a sigh, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. "I'm sorry if I upset you. I didn't mean to"

You offer a small smile, touched by his genuine concern. "I know you didn't mean it that way"

Jisung's gaze softens as he holds you close. "You don't have to go through this alone, you know? I'm here for you, always."

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Felix:

 You and Felix are spending an afternoon together, exploring a bustling shopping district. The sun shines overhead, casting a warm glow on the streets as you stroll hand in hand, occasionally stopping to peek into storefronts that catch your interest. It's meant to be a carefree outing, a chance to enjoy each other's company and the city's charm.

As you walk, a group of girls pass by, casting a quick glance in your direction before bursting into laughter. Your heart sinks as you catch the tail end of their mocking glances. You feel exposed as if their laughter is directed at you, even though you can't be entirely sure. You clasp Felix's hand a bit tighter, a mix of discomfort and embarrassment pooling within you.

Felix continues chatting about something he spotted at a nearby store, seemingly oblivious to the brief encounter. He's always been the kind of person who radiates positivity and doesn't let minor things affect his mood. You don't want to ruin the day with your sensitivity, so you offer a small smile and nod as he speaks.

As you browse through a store, Felix's genuine concern hasn't waned. He can sense that something is off, even though you're trying your best to hide it. He decides to address the issue and approaches you, his voice gentle.

"Is everything alright?" he asks softly.

You hesitate for a moment before admitting, "Honestly, something kind of bothered me earlier."

Felix's expression shifts from curiosity to attentive concern. "What happened?"

You take a deep breath, summoning the courage to share. "When we were walking, I noticed a group of girls looking at me and laughing. I don't know why, but it made me feel self-conscious."

Felix reaches out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "You're a wonderful person, and those girls' opinions don't matter. If anything, their behavior says more about them than it does about you."

"Felix," you begin, your voice soft but resolute. "There's something I want to tell you."

He shifts slightly, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering attention. "What is it?"

Taking a deep breath, you find the courage to speak your truth. "I love you."

Felix's eyes widen ever so slightly, his expression a mix of surprise and tenderness. The moment hangs suspended between you, a pause filled with emotion.

Then, a heartwarming smile spreads across Felix's face, his gaze never leaving yours. "I love you too, more than words could express."

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Seungmin:

You and Seungmin have always had a strong bond, but like any couple, disagreements are a natural part of your relationship. One evening, a difference in opinions leads to a heated argument that tests both your emotions and your sensitivity.

The topic at hand is trivial, something that wouldn't usually escalate into a conflict. But somehow, the conversation has spiraled into a full-blown disagreement, each of you holding your ground with growing frustration. As words are exchanged, your sensitivity to certain tones and remarks heightens the intensity of the argument.

"Can't you just see it from my perspective for once?" Seungmin exclaims, his voice tinged with exasperation.

You feel your heart clench, the sharpness of his tone cutting deeper than he intended. Your sensitivity to emotional nuances has always been a double-edged sword, allowing you to connect deeply with others but also making you more susceptible to feeling hurt.

"I am trying to see your perspective," you reply, your voice strained. "But that doesn't mean my feelings don't matter."

Seungmin's expression shifts, a mixture of frustration and regret flickering in his eyes. "I didn't mean to dismiss your feelings."

As the argument reaches a temporary impasse, you struggle to rein in your emotions. The sensitivity that runs through your veins makes it difficult to shake off the lingering hurt caused by the heated exchange.

Seungmin's brow furrows as he takes in your expression, his frustration fading into concern. He realizes that the argument has taken an emotional toll on you, and the realization dawns that his words have impacted you in a way he hadn't anticipated.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asks, his voice softer now.

You struggle to hold back tears, your emotions bubbling over. "It's just... sometimes the way we argue... it gets to me."

Seungmin's gaze softens as he comprehends the depth of your sensitivity. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize..."

Seungmin takes a step closer, his eyes unwavering. "We'll work through this together, okay? I'll be more mindful of your sensitivity, and you'll let me know when things get tough."

A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips, touched by his willingness to bridge the gap. "Deal."

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Jeongin:

You and Jeongin find yourselves on a quiet rooftop, the city lights below casting a soft glow against the night sky. The stars twinkle above, and a sense of tranquility settles over the two of you. Stargazing has always been a cherished activity for you – a time to reflect, share thoughts, and simply enjoy each other's company.

Tonight, however, there's an underlying weight tugging at your heart. Lately, you've been feeling emotionally sensitive, and specific comments and situations are affecting you more than they should. You had hoped that tonight's stargazing would provide a moment of solace, a chance to open up to Jeongin about your feelings.

As the two of you lie on a blanket, gazing up at the constellations, you feel a mixture of contentment and apprehension. You decide to seize the moment and express what's been on your mind.

"Jeongin," you begin softly, "sometimes, I get a little more affected by things than I let on."

He turns to you, his eyes curious. "What do you mean?"

You take a deep breath, trying to put your feelings into words. "Well, like when certain things are said a certain way, or when I'm feeling overwhelmed, it gets to me even if I try not to show it."

Jeongin nods, but his expression doesn't change much. "I get it. We all have our moments, right?"

You feel a pang of disappointment – it's as if he didn't quite grasp the depth of what you were trying to convey. Nonetheless, you press on, hoping he'll understand better with a bit more explanation.

"Yeah, but sometimes it feels like the sensitivity is a bit too much. Like, I wish I could just brush things off, but I end up overthinking."

He offers a sympathetic smile. "It's okay, you know? You're allowed to feel how you feel."

His words are reassuring, yet you had hoped for a deeper connection, a moment of shared vulnerability. You let out a soft sigh, the stars above seemingly reflecting the emotions swirling within you.

As the night progresses, you both continue to share stories, laughter, and quiet moments of contemplation. It's a beautiful night, but there's a part of you that longs for a more profound understanding from Jeongin.

The conversation turns to dreams, aspirations, and fears. You listen intently as he speaks about his hopes for the future, his determination to succeed, and his worries about letting people down. He talks animatedly, completely immersed in the conversation.

You seize the opportunity to dive a bit deeper. "You know, Jeongin, I've been feeling a bit lost lately too. Like, I'm not sure where I'm headed."

He grins, nudging your shoulder playfully. "Don't worry, you'll figure it out. You're amazing at whatever you do."

You smile back, but a part of you aches. It's as if your words were merely skimmed over, not fully comprehended. You had hoped that sharing your uncertainties would spark a more profound exchange.

He yawns and stretches, a contented smile on his face. "Tonight was nice, huh?"

You nod, feeling a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah, it was."

As he gathers the blanket and begins to pack up, he glances at you, his gaze lingering for a moment. "You okay?"

You hesitate, then decide to voice what's been on your mind. "Honestly, I wish sometimes you could pick up on the things I don't say. Like, understand when I'm struggling even if I'm smiling."

Jeongin's expression shifts from confusion to realization. "Wait, are you saying… you've been feeling more sensitive lately?"

You nod, relieved that he's finally connecting the dots.

He lets out a sigh, his features softened by understanding. "I'm sorry if I missed that. I guess I assumed you were always strong, that you didn't need anyone to worry about you."

You let out a chuckle, a mix of amusement and fondness. "Well, even strong people have their moments."

Jeongin's hand finds yours, his grip gentle and reassuring. "I promise, from now on, I'll pay more attention. I want you to know that you can always talk to me."

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Shotgun

A/N: Okay, another fic that has been 95% completed and I finally got around to wrapping up. PR relationship, drunken wedding, enemies to lovers, all the good stuff. As always let me know what you guys think and enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ content only. DNI if under 18. Smut.

Word Count: 8k+

Strengths and weaknesses make us who we are. They are the foundation of our entire beings and personalities. Concocting in a fashion that swirls around us and presents us to the outside world. Special groups can become world class athletes while others thrive in the arts, presenting world altering pieces to the public. Niche groups of writers can put pen to paper in ways never imagined before, the opposite can be said of mathematicians. Some individuals are wonderful public speakers. 

Take your childhood best friend Jake for example. The man thrives on the attention when it settles to him. Putting his best self forward when in the presence of other people Yet, he still utterly despises ninety-nine percent of the general population. It’s why you two got along so well. 

Also why you and his twin did not. 

Your strengths? Well, they lie in solo activities. Anything that needs to be completed alone, you thrived in. Preferring not to work with others unless you absolutely had to. Even then, you weren’t going to be happy doing it. An intellectual, not an artistic bone in your body. Not understanding how he and his brothers can create literal magic in their minds and then go and perform for thousands of people. 

Not being a people person was one of the main key characteristics of your personality. You had your small inner circle and that was more than enough for you. Even better that they spent most of their time away from you touring. 

If you were together all the time, it would make the time spent together less exciting. Less meaningful. Sure, some people would say it was you being shy and to yourself, but you knew that wasn’t really it. 

Okay, maybe just a bit.

Who could blame you though? Being in the public eye like your closest friends sounded like a nightmare. Not being able to keep any information about your private life hidden because it seemed as though someone was always watching. It sounded like hell. It was hell.

That was the life of being a celebrity though. Which is also why you strayed as far away from it as possible. Even when you went out to lunch with Jake when he was in town, it was not a rare occurrence for him to be stopped on the street for a picture or something of the like. Keeping your distance and watching from over his shoulder some few yards away was where you were most comfortable in situations like that.

He would then come back to you, exasperated because of the constant stopping for fans. Jake wasn’t as annoyed with it as he let on to believe, secretly loving when he was approached by adoring fans showering him in praise. It always earned an eye roll from you. Such an attention whore.

Just not to the extent of his twin. Josh craved it. There was hardly ever a time when he wasn’t ecstatic to discuss the intense life he led on a daily basis of being adored by fans and the like. Not to mention the annoying personality trait of needing to be best friends with any individual he was an acquaintance with.

His pursuit of reaching that level with you had been nonstop since high school when you and Jake had hit it off. It was thoroughly exhausting fighting the man as often as you had to, but it was the only way to get him to leave you alone.

He loved it. Finding it hysterical how truly annoyed you were by his sheer presence. Honestly, he wasn’t entirely aware of the actual reason why you didn’t want to be around him. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t lost sleep over it more than once. 

Thinking it was just a silly game, not comprehending that you truly wanted nothing to do with him. It was frustrating. Dealing with this since high school and you truly believed he knew the main reason why, but opted to ignore it for the sake of not self reflecting. Jake on the other hand, similar to his familiar counterpart, could always guarantee a chuckle from your interactions.

Never getting into full arguments, but you had been known to raise your voice at him on a few occasions when he refused to leave your personal bubble. It was borderline anxiety inducing. Always having a few Xanax on hand for when you knew you would be having to spend more time than necessary with the boy.

Like on vacation. 

Jake had invited you as soon as they had decided where they were going to be taking a weekend trip to. Given you had never been to Las Vegas, you thought it was going to be an absolute blast. Staying at an incredible resort, relaxing by the pool, occasional gambling whilst enjoying the complimentary drinks. I mean, in what world would someone turn that down? 

You seriously considered it once you heard that Josh was going to be in attendance. Being trapped on a plane with him, having to do every vacation activity together, getting little to no break from the 24/7 Josh show. Way to ruin a trip.

Given how desperately you did need this getaway, biting your tongue and accepting the fact that the thorn in your side was going to be even closer than normal was what you were just going to have to deal with despite the bile burning the back of your throat at just the thought of it. 

Knowing that you would at least have the reprieve of the flight out to Nevada was adding a little bounce to your step. Until he plopped himself down in the seat directly next to yours with a loud sigh echoing in the shell of your ear. Without a moment of hesitation you placed your earphones in, not wanting to give him a chance to engage, or attempt to engage, in conversation with you. 

It didn’t last long. He grabbed the left one from your ear much to your dismay, giving a large grin. “Everyone got to pick one activity for the weekend. What’s yours?” Snatching the item from his fingertips and placing it back where it should’ve been the entire time, you sighed. 

“Pool morning.” His eyes lit up, going to speak again, but luckily the flight attendants began their aisle explanation of rules and regulations. Smirking at the interruption, you let your head recline back onto the ridiculously uncomfortable headrest, your eyes slipped shut. 

You couldn’t be one hundred percent certain of how long your eyes were closed, but it felt like two minutes later when he nudged you to gather your attention on him. A large exhale left your nose, still trying to ignore him. It only worked for so long until he began incessantly tapping your shoulder.

“What? What? What could you possibly want right now, Joshua?” You snapped, staring him dead in the eyes, but he wasn’t phased in the least by your outburst. Holding up a ziplock bag to you, he offered another large smirk. “Trail Mix?” 

Josh had set himself a personal goal for the trip. By the time the wheels were up on the way home, you two were going to be fast friends. Deciding on that after having a group dinner together one night and you did everything in your power to avoid him. Whilst he and Jake chatted in his kitchen he racked his brain at the possibilities.

“Can I ask you a question?” Jake hummed in response, eyes stuck to his screen. “Why does buzz not like me?” Jake’s eyes briefly glanced at his spitting image and sighed. “Because you’re you.” Josh let the words simmer for just a brief moment. 

Before giving a response, Jake continued. “It’s just a lot for her to handle. You’re on constantly and it drives her up the wall. You know how she is. More reserved than any of us and you're just elevated by ten.” Josh’s brow furrowed, leaning against the counter, shaking his head.

“Yeah no, I don’t think that’s it.” Jake’s hands shot up, deserting his task of trying to get Josh to understand why his best friend did not adore his twin like every other individual under the sun. He was going to get her to be friends, even if it was the last thing he did.

A blinding migraine is what woke you up. That and the feeling of someone's arm wrapped around your bare waist. 

Blinking your eyes open slowly, you could feel whoever was next to you, breathing deep and even into the crook of your neck. The disheveled hair was tickling your cheek and jaw, hand twitching every so often as he slept. 

When he began to feel you stirring, he himself was slow to get up as well. Having no clue if this person was a complete stranger or if you happened to know them pretty well, had you beyond nervous to turn around and look. 

Then it hit you. Patchouli. 

Eyes blowing wide open, you turned your head to see him in the same position as you. Wide eyed, shock, and confusion painted across his face. Entirely sure he was mirroring your expression as well.

Neither of you said a word to one another as you laid there. Eventually, you pulled your gaze away from him and chose to stare at the ceiling instead. “Buzz?” He finally broke the uncomfortable silence drenching the room. 

Making the wrong decision to shake your head, you groaned, stilling your skull and attempting to stop the room from spinning further than it already was. “No, no. Don’t say a word.” You seethed out between gritted teeth.

He took in a sharp breath, fingers laced soundly over his comforter covered torso. His phone vibrated on the nightstand and when he grabbed it, he only showed you the message from Sam. They were all downstairs waiting on you both to join them for breakfast. 

Silently getting dressed, you stepped out of the restroom to see Josh waiting patiently for you. “We do not speak a word of this. To anyone. You understand me?” His lips were pulled between his teeth, but he nodded at you. “Of course, absolutely.” 

As you two took your seats at the table, all eyes were glued to you both. Trying to play it off, you pointed to the pitcher of orange juice sitting on the other end of the table by Josh. He handed it off to you, but everyone's attention had yet to leave you both. 

Finally giving in, you stared down Jake. “What? What’s wrong?” His chin rested on the backs of his hands, a small knowing smirk gracing his lips, sunglasses blocking his hungover eyes. “Are we going to talk about what happened last night?” 

Shrugging, your brow furrowed at his words. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. What happened?” Sam snorted, sipping his coffee before responding. “Josh invited us all to watch,” your head snapped to the boy next to you, shooting daggers at him.

“You fucking pervert,” Josh’s cheeks burned crimson red at the response bit out at him. Danny finally spoke up through a bite of toast. “Like we weren’t going to watch our best friends get married.” 

You perked up in his direction, looking at the paired off couples seated around the table. “Oh my god, who got married?” Josh was excited to hear the news himself. Jita’s confused gaze met your enthused one as she spoke. 

“Uh, you two?” Eyes falling down to the table, you and Josh gasped at the same time, the memory slamming into you. Your hands covered your mouth as it hung wide open, staring at the man in pure shock. Slowly shaking your head, you stuttered over your words. “No-no, ther-there’s no way.” 

Josh’s head fell back, swallowing thickly as his brothers erupted in laughter around the table. “How did they let that happen when we were so drunk?” You whispered out, staring at Jake for answers. He shrugged, “That’s the way most people get married, buzz.” 

Letting your head fall into your hands, Josh finally spoke. “It’s fine, we’ll get it annulled and it’ll be like nothing even happened.” Nodding at his words, you shoved his phone into his hands from the resting place it had been on the table. “Now. Do it now.”

Standing from the table, he excused himself as he dialed his lawyer's number. Deciding that it was probably best to check your own phone for any inkling as to what had gone on the previous night, you checked what was buried in your purse. The screen was continuously lighting up with notifications from Instagram, Twitter, any and all social media known to man. 

“Oh-oh my god,” you breathed out. Slowly lifting your head and looking at the youngest brother, you calmly asked him a question. “Samuel?” He huffed in response, spreading jam onto his toast. “Did you post the wedding on your Instagram last night?” Dropping his butter knife to the table with a loud clink echoing, everyone immediately took to Instagram. 

A chorus of  oh no’s, fuck’s, and holy shits were spoken by all of the table. Josh sat back in his seat and turned towards you. “There’s a problem,” you nodded, eyes never leaving Sam. “Oh, trust me, we’re well aware.” He breathed out a sigh of relief. 

“Oh great, I don’t have to be the one to tell you.” Sam bit into a piece of muffin, shooting you a wink. “Happy honeymoon!” His attempt to release the tension that hung heavy on the group did not work as he had hoped. 

The remainder of the trip you spent as much time away from Josh as possible, absolutely mortified about the circumstances and what had gone on. The only interaction you had with him was right after brunch when he told you his lawyer was working on it and he had made their manager aware of what was going on.

Otherwise, you had kept your distance like Josh was a plague. It hadn’t been too bad afterwards. You spent the rest of the time relaxing by the pool, enjoying great food, and before you knew it you were on the flight back home. 

To face reality. 

As you walked to your car, his voice echoed through the parking garage to gather your attention. Only stopping because you had to, you turned to face him and saw him jogging towards you. “So, uh, my lawyer wants to meet with us tomorrow morning. Manager will be there, too.” 

Nodding in agreement, you didn’t say anything else as you loaded your luggage into your car and then yourself. He didn’t try to speak more, knowing how truly furious you were with him for this.  

Knowing that this now being public information was going to make the situation that much worse to deal with. Not like it would have been if this was a normal person, no, you had to deal with the ramifications of being black out drunk and marrying a celebrity. 

Awesome. 

When you arrived at his home the next morning, you let yourself in, seeing a man dressed in a suit standing in his living room and the man you knew as their manager quietly chit chatting with Josh. He only offered a nervous, sheepish smile to you as you walked in and sat on his sofa.

“Alright, so what do we need to do? Sign some papers?” You spoke out first, grabbing a pen from your purse and looking at everyone expectantly. They were all nervous and you couldn’t figure out why.

The boy's manager cleared his throat and called you by your name, but you shook your head, offering your nickname instead. No one ever used your legal name, it was odd to even hear it spoken out. “Buzz, then. So, unfortunately, this is going to be a bit more,” he paused, trying to find the magic word, "more complicated than we originally assumed.”

Not responding, you only blinked slowly at him. Acknowledging the lawyer to step forward and speak, your head inclined towards him. “The annulment itself is not what complicates matters. It should only be a few months until everything is squared away based on the legal proceedings. What does make things sticky is the social aspect of this.” 

His hands waved to you both, but you refused to look at Josh. He could feel your energy humming with pure anger at what was being said to you. His manager spoke up once more. “Yes, so, Sam posting this definitely made it more difficult. In order for you both to get out of this as unscathed as possible, we all discussed the options.” 

Your face contorted in confusion. “Excuse me?” Everyone’s eyes settled on you. “I was not consulted for any of this. So when you say we all discussed the options, no we didn’t.” Josh’s wide eyed gaze looked at the two men standing, blankly staring at you. 

Jaw setting in annoyance, you spoke again. “I don’t understand how there can be options in the first place. We get it annulled and call it a day. Wipe our hands of it. That’s the option here.” Josh cleared his throat, turning to face you from his seat. 

“Buzz, listen. It affects our image. It’s one thing to actually be married, but for us to have gotten drunk in Vegas and then got married, and within seventy-two hours to get it annulled. That’s so bad,” you scoffed at him, but before you could speak they all chimed in. 

“It puts a very bad image on Josh. We’re just trying to get damage control done right now. All we’re suggesting is that for the next few months, until the annulment is officially granted, you two continue to put on a facade of sorts to the public that you two are actually together.” 

Unbelievable. 

“And what about me?” You breathed out, staring at these men like the fucking vultures they were. His manager shrugged with a laugh. “You get to date Josh Kiszka for a few months. This will boost your image too!” 

Standing up from your seat, you exploded on them. “Well, I’m not fucking dating Josh Kiszka! This is the problem with you, Josh! It’s all about you and your image. Doesn’t matter who else's life you screw up along the way as long as your image remains clean. Go fuck yourself. Let me know when I need to sign the papers.” 

Storming out of his house, when you got to your car, you sat there in silence, trying to catch your breath. A scream left your throat as you continuously hit your steering wheel over and over. Admittedly, you had done some incredibly stupid things in your time, but nothing to this magnitude. No, this was truly life altering stupidity that put you here.

And you did it with the worst human imaginable. You hated yourself for letting this happen. This wasn’t like you. Getting married on a bender in Vegas? Nope. Bets were always going to be on Sam to do something like this. You? Not in a million years. With Josh? Not even in the realm of possibilities. 

Yet, here you were. 

Sitting in your apartment, you drowned your sorrows in a pint of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream, watching Bridgerton as you sobbed about the utter mess you were in. Josh had been blowing up your phone all day, honestly you were surprised he hadn’t shown up at your door.

Ah, spoke too soon, you thought as a rumbling of knuckles on your front door drew your attention. Sniffling, you wiped your face with a stray tissue, praying it wasn’t too dirty, before walking to the door. 

“I’m not in the mood right now, Josh.” Sighing as you took in the sight of who was at your door, you were overjoyed to see someone else standing there. “Well, damn good thing I’m not him then, huh?” You didn’t hesitate, throwing yourself into Jake’s embrace, continuously sobbing into his shirt. 

His hands rubbed your back with a sad sigh, leading you back in towards your sofa. Sniffling as he grabbed a tissue, he wiped your tear stained cheeks that were positively swollen from the day spent in absolute waterworks. “What’s up, buzz?”

Your hands hit your thighs in exasperation, shrugging as more tears welled up. “They told me I have to date Josh until the annulment is done. I don’t want to do that, Jake.” Chin wobbling, he wiped at your falling tears again, nodding in understandment. 

“I’m so stupid! How did this even happen?” He handed you the box of tissues before speaking. “First of all, you’re not stupid. You were drunk beyond belief, we all were. Second, who said you have to date Josh?” Eyes staring at the crumpled fabric in your hands, the sadness that sat on your shoulders sank further in. 

“Your manager. The lawyer. Josh. They said it was to protect his image. That a drunk Vegas wedding doesn’t look good as is and then getting it annulled or having the paperwork filed a few days after is even worse. Like, they didn’t even consider me!” Your body shook harder as more tears fell, sobs escaping your throat as you laid on Jake.

A deep sigh rumbled in his chest, hand smoothing your hair down. “You’re gonna hate my response then.” Pulling back from his embrace, you shot daggers at him. “You want me to do it, too? Seriously, Jake? You know why I don’t want to be associated with him. I’m not doing it!”

His hands went up in defeat, but raked through his hair as he watched you move to the kitchen then back to the room in a nervous pace. “Buzz, listen. It’s not just Josh that’s affected. Honestly, if it was I would 100% be on your side and let you do what you wanted to do. I’m worried about you,” your brow furrowed at his words. 

“Being associated with someone like us is not easy. You should see the toll it takes on Jita sometimes. It’s rough and brutal,” you cut him off, his words only aiding your reasoning. “Exactly! That’s one of the main reasons,” he didn’t let you continue, speaking over you and grabbing your hands to bring you back to sit with him.

His thumbs brushed over the skin on your wrist. “It’ll be so much worse if the annulment news gets out this quickly after what happened. Buzz, your life will be decimated. It will be horrible. It will affect your daily life, your work, everything. I want you to do this so that way it’s more sound when it does happen. Otherwise,” he shook his head as he trailed off.

With a groan, you flung yourself back onto the couch. You had never hated life more than you did right then. Grabbing your cell phone, you sent Josh a message only sending a Fine, as Jake patted your leg. “Good girl.” You kicked him in response. 

A carefully drawn plan was created by everyone. Keeping public appearances at a minimum, their manager stated that only a few were necessary in the amount of time needed for it to be legally done. However, what was necessary was social media posts. 

Since your…wedding, had been so publicly broadcasted, making an appearance on his social media whether by posts or stories was absolutely necessary according to them. The goal was to keep actual posts minimal, but stories more often. Which also meant that you and Josh were going to have to be spending more time together than you ever had before.

You were dreading it to put it lightly. In fact, you only wanted to crawl under your bed and hide for the rest of eternity. All you could think about was why this had to happen with him. Why not Danny? You loved Danny! Sweetest human being known to man. 

Instead, you were legally bound to the person you despise most. Why must the universe laugh in your face like this? You believed you were a fairly decent person, so why you? It was that question that was on an ever repeat in your mind as you sat at a restaurant you couldn’t even afford to look through the window at. 

The two of you were sitting in dreadfully uncomfortable silence. A fake engagement ring sitting on your left hand, a band on his. Waiter already having come and taken both of your orders, you didn’t know what else to do at the moment. Nibbling on a skinny breadstick, your eyes scanned the scenery around you. 

People that would never give you the time of day if they were to spot you on the street filled the tables around you both. Occasional glances from the younger crowd falling over you two made you shift in your seat. 

Taking notice of wandering eyes himself, he reached his hand out across the linen covered table, grabbing your hand with his. Speaking through a smile, your look of disgust made him laugh. “Can you at least try and make it look like we’re having fun? We’re married and people are looking, buzz.” 

Forcing a grin onto your face, you squeezed his fingers, a hiss escaping from his teeth as he pulled his hand back. “You’re right, I am having fun!” Rolling his eyes, he expelled air from his ballooned cheeks. 

“So what do you do for work, again?” He asked. You stared him down, opinion of him sinking further. “I’m an archivist. Do you know what that is?” Your smug tone had his face falling, mocking you. “Yes, I know what an archivist is. Asshole,” he mumbled, playing with the straw in his drink. 

Sighing, he leaned back in his seat, eyeing you from across the table. “What’s your deal with me? Why don’t you like me? Everyone likes me. I’m Josh!” Elbows landing on the table with a clatter of plates and glasses, you began listing the reasons on your fingers. 

“You’re selfish, snobby, too energetic, think you’re better than everyone else, an attention whore,” he cut you off, arms crossing over his chest. “Alright, alright, alright. I get it. But I’ll have you know I’m not any of those things.” 

Your eyebrows shot up your face. “Really?” He nodded, a smirk tugging at his full lips. “Of course! There’s so much more to me.” Snorting, you pointed at the table. “If you’re not a snob or selfish then why would you bring me here? I don’t even like fish! I’m allergic to shellfish. I literally ordered the only thing that didn’t contain any fish. A fucking salad, Josh. I don’t like salad.” 

Continuing with your rant, he listened to every word you said. “Not to mention that a place like this,” you waved your hands around, “is the last place I would ever want to come to. I’m more of a Chili’s girl,” his nose scrunched up in disgust. “You see! This isn’t going to work, Josh.” Catching your head in your hand, he tried to ease your spiraling mind. 

“Okay, okay. I promise that next time we will go somewhere you want. I just figured that this was a good spot to get noticed and that is working. Three different people have taken pictures which I am almost 100% certain are already circling Twitter.” Your face showed your confusion because you hadn’t noticed that at all. 

“I promise, next time, we will go somewhere or do something you want. Scouts honor,” he held his hand up in the salute, earning a tired laugh from you. “Ah, see! We’re already making progress. You laughed at my joke.” 

Smile falling, the waiter appeared with your food right then. “Actually, I was laughing at you. Not at your joke.” He shrugged, digging into the salmon on his plate. “Still counts.” 

Awkward small talk consumed the remainder of the evening. Walking to your own car that had been parked a few blocks away from the restaurant, Josh stood behind you, ensuring you got to your car safely. 

Not offering a parting word, you got in your car, but Josh tapped on your window, a smile on his lips. Rolling it down, but only a crack, you tilted your head towards it. “What?” He placed a sloppy kiss on the glass, much to your dismay, but laughed right after.

“I had a great time with you, buzz. Make sure you’re at my home this weekend to make an appearance in a social media story!” He called out as you reversed out of your spot, driving off with your middle finger extended in his direction.

You weren’t a firm believer in the idea about people changing. People are the way they are, especially once in adulthood. The way someone acts by the time they’re in their early twenties, in your experience anyways, was how the person was meant to be. Which is why you were entirely confused about why Josh was growing on you. 

After spending more than a few evenings at his home to appear in his stories or Instagram posts, even making it into a TikTok, you were growing more comfortable around him. Even opting to hang out without the need for posting purposes. You hadn’t even given a second thought to why you were okay with it.

It honestly started after your suggested publicity date. After having a night out at a fancy dinner, you decided to do something a tad more laid back for your date choice. However, when you realized that they wanted you to be seen out in public together, it dawned on you what to do.

The boys were still on tour, so like any normal “girlfriend” or “wife”, you flew out to spend some real good quality time with your partner. He even went the extra mile to pick you up from the airport. Your decision to keep him in the dark of what your planned outing entailed was driving him insane. 

It is also why he was standing in the happiest place on earth with the largest scowl on his face you had ever seen. With your Minnie Mouse ears adorned, Mickey Mouse t-shirt, and Nuimo sticking out of your cross body bag, you were beaming from ear to ear. Walking up to Josh, you stood directly in front of him, placing a pair of ears on the frowning boy. 

“No, no. Absolutely not.” Giggles fell from your parted lips as he took them off with a loud sigh. “Okay, Mr. Grumpy, what would you like to do first? Space Mountain or Autopia? I think we should do Autopia because it’s a car perfect for your frame and one you might actually be able to reach the pedals in.” 

He mocked a fake laugh, walking in the direction of Space Mountain. Josh could try all he wanted to feign irritation with where you two had landed for your date, but by mid-afternoon, he was smiling more often than not. 

Even indulging in a churro although it was against his dietary restrictions. You two were sitting in New Orleans Square, splitting a box of popcorn, giving your feet a rest after the incredibly long day, but your mood and spirits had never been so high around him before.

Laughter and smiles had been a regular throughout the course of the day, nearly riding every ride you could. Josh was grinning like a child after having indulged himself all day. “I can’t believe you actually bought the picture from Splash Mountain. It’s so dumb!” You spoke through laughs. 

Whipping the picture out, you were cowering over, blocking yourself from the water, face contorted in fear while Josh had both hands up, the biggest smile you’d ever seen as he yelled out in excitement. As he put more popcorn in his mouth, his eyes narrowed at you. 

“Why’d you pick here?” Smirking, you sipped from your novelty alien sipper cup. “For starters, I knew you’d be pissed when we walked in.” He shrugged in agreement, a light tint falling on his cheeks. “But I also knew that you would warm up after a few rides and snacks. Almost everyone does. And I picked somewhere where I knew we would be spotted.”

Sliding your phone across the tabletop, a photo of you and Josh on the teacups was circling the Twittersphere. “I think I’m starting to get the celebrity appearance thing.” Taking a bite of your salty treat, Josh eyed you in surprise.

“Well, look at you.” His gaze settles on you for just a beat too long, causing you to fidget in your seat. Looking back at your phone to get away from the uncomfortable feeling worming its way in your stomach, you spoke out. “C’mon, we have a lighting lane for Indiana Jones.”

Josh stared after you as you stood and began walking in the direction of the ride. His plan was working.

It was pissing you off to no end. You didn’t want to like Josh or be friends with him. Not since his fuck up in high school that was the root cause of all of this. So why was he growing on you? 

Refusing to fall for the sweet Josh act, which you were beginning to doubt was an act at all, after your Disney day, you decided to keep contact and visits extremely limited. Only showing up at his home to appear in a quick story and then immediately leaving. Josh wasn’t a fan of this sudden change either. 

Becoming downtrodden each time you rushed to leave his home after making brief appearances. Keeping conversations to a minimum. When you received a text from Josh saying one of your final dates was ready to take place, you were dreading spending an evening with him. Not excited about the confusing feelings that were happening.

Yet, here you were at a concert for the boys. Given you were as good of friends with Jake as you were, most people figured that you were constantly at concerts. Not really. Actually, you had only really seen them perform a handful of times. Now that you and Josh were married? 

Of course the perfect opportunity for a sighting was going to be at a concert, supporting your fake spouse. Okay, not entirely fake because the marriage itself was technically real, but whatever. Standing off to the side of the stage, you smiled warmly at them putting their best efforts into their show. 

It was hard not to notice the wandering eyes of fans falling to you and realization dawning on the crowd who you really were. Animosity towards you hadn’t been too much to deal with. Sure, there were people who truly didn’t comprehend how you and Josh were together. There had never been a mention of you before, Jake working overtime to ensure that through your friendship, and now all of a sudden this random woman is married to Josh?

Bonkers.

As their encore wrapped up, once Jake stepped off stage, you jumped in excitement, offering your happy praises of how well the show had gone tonight. Walking off with Jake, you halted as their manager’s wide eyes observed you, subtly nodding his head in the direction of who you should have been walking with.

Jake offered you a knowing smile, continuing towards his dressing room as you waited for Josh. As his curly hair bounced towards you, you offered a large smile. He knew what he was doing as an arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you towards him and connecting your lips.

You froze, not expecting him to do something like that. As he retreated, his arm never left you, a smile still adorned as he turned you around and walked you towards his own room. Skin positively on fire from the encounter, your stomach was a chaotic mess of nerves. 

Sitting in the general waiting area for Josh to finish getting ready to head to the hotel, you were literally sitting on the edge of your seat. You weren’t stupid, you knew why Josh kissed you right in the viewline of hundreds of fans. So, why was your mind running about the passion behind it? And why did you like it?

His curly due popped out of his door, a big grin greeting you as his wet hair dripped down his temples. “Ready to go?” Nodding with no verbal response, his hand linked with yours, escorting you down the tunnel. Your eyes were glued to the faux wedding rings adorning your hands.

Some fans waved you off in the private cars that headed in the direction of the hotel. Not muttering a word, Josh could sense the vibe was just ever so slightly different than normal. He knew you weren’t upset, but you weren’t exactly dripping with excitement either. Nervous? 

It remained silent in the elevator ride up to the floor of your rooms. When he walked to his door, he finally made eye contact with you for the first time all evening. “Do you want to come inside and talk for a bit?” 

Your wavering voice would give away your endless thoughts, so you just bob your head in agreement, stepping into the suite before him. Sitting on the overly large sofa for one person, Josh immediately knew something was different when you didn’t give a snide remark about that. 

Finally sitting next to you, he handed you a drink from the bar. “Alright, what the hell is wrong with you? This is the longest you’ve ever been silent around me.” Sighing, you battled how to word this, but Josh beat you to it. “Was it the kiss? I’m sorry I should’ve asked you beforehand, but so many people were around I thought it was what I should do.” 

Shaking your head, you felt heat creep up your neck. “No, no it’s fine. I agree, it was what should have been done. It’s just,” trailing off, his eyebrows furrowed. “It’s just what?” Deciding against telling him how you truly felt about it, you changed conversation tracks. 

“Just that it was a lot of fun seeing you guys perform. Makes me realize who I’m actually married to.” He bought it. Immediately smiling brightly at your words, he relaxed into the stiff couch. “I can’t get over that. We’re married.” You both chuckled, eyes going to the wedding rings you wore. 

“Do you remember the night at all?” He questioned, seeing if you had any recollection of how it came to be. Eyes going to the ceiling, you laughed as you tried to replay the fuzzy night. “I remember laughing. A lot. It was at one of those twenty-four hour chapels on the Strip. Jake was your best man, Jita was my maid of honor. Jake signed as our witness. Sam recorded the whole thing on Instagram.”

You two were erupting in laughter at the sheer stupidity of the situation. “You wanted to consummate the marriage right there in the chapel on the pew.” Josh laughed into his glass. Your jaw opened in shock, refuting the claim. “I did not!” Josh’s eyebrows raised as he recalled it. “Oh yes you did.”

Sitting there and staring into his eyes as his laughter died down, you gave a shrug. “Okay. So, what if I did? Would you have taken me right there?” He didn’t hesitate, not an inkling of nerves as his response came quickly. 

“I would’ve taken you right there if we had been alone.” Swallowing thickly, in the blink of an eye Josh had ended up on top of you. Teeth hitting in a messy, hurried encounter. His tongue trying to explore every inch he could.

It moved so quickly you weren’t sure how you had ended up entirely nude in his bedroom. On your knees and hands, Josh pounding into you from behind. Hitting so deep inside of you that you were certain you were going to split in two. 

Your moans were borderline murderous screams. Body being moved forward which each meet of his hips to your ass. The sounds ridiculously lude as your soaked bodies continued to join over and over. 

As his cum painted your back and ass, you felt like you had run a marathon. His fingers still lightly tracing circles over your throbbing clit, instead of stopping all at once, easing you out of the pleasure that wracked your body.

Limbs turning to immediate jelly, you weren’t sure how you ended up in the shower together, going for another round. Fairly certain your body would never be able to recover again. Yet here you were, accepting him again with pleads. Years of pent up aggression with one another colliding. 

Heavenly. 

Well, that complicated it a bit more. What the hell was the matter with you? It was Josh for god’s sake! All you needed to do was show up for the concert, hang out with him for a few minutes, then go to your own room, and fly home the next afternoon. You couldn’t even do that right.

Because you were currently entangled in bedsheets with the boy, limbs intertwined, and you didn’t want to move. He was just so warm and soft, comfortable beyond belief. The gentle rise and fall of his chest nearly eases you back to sleep. 

It was only a couple minutes later when he stirred awake, humming in content at you still being there. Arms tightening their grip on you. His deep, husky morning voice broke the gentle air, erupting your skin in goosebumps. “Morning,” his lips landed on the crown of your bedhead, trailing down to your cheek, then neck.

Easy was one way to describe it. The head of his cock breaching your entrance slowly and deeply. Lifting your leg as you remained on your side, Josh right behind you. His fingers danced on your clit, and in no time at all, you two fell apart. 

Wanting to return back to the safe slumber of your life, he refused. As your eyes slid shut, they shot back open as his tongue traced your leaking hole. It was going to be a long morning. Which you didn’t really mind. 

Letting Josh take you to brunch probably wasn’t the best move, but you couldn’t bring it in yourself to come up with a phony excuse as to why you couldn’t. You wanted to spend some time with him, it wasn’t a crime or anything. If anything, it only strengthened the PR relationship you were putting up! 

Oh, shut up.

Even when you got home, you found yourself looking forward to hearing from Josh. He didn’t understand what the change had been or when it had actually happened, but he wasn’t complaining. If anything, he was celebrating it. You were no longer doing everything in your power to avoid him, but instead were actually reaching out to see when you could see him again.

This was the literal best case scenario for him. His yearning for you over the years had only grown stronger through all of this and what had been a silly crush on his brother's best friend was blossoming into an actual romance.

Still, you were hiding your reasoning for seeing him behind the PR aspect of this arrangement, but the more you presented it and accepted when he did, the more hopeful he was becoming. It might be silly wishes, but after having harbored these feelings for you for as long as he had been, getting this close was playing with fire.

Did anyone have any idea about this infatuation? Not in the slightest. Josh knew he had done a wonderful job of keeping it at bay. Perhaps it came off as an elementary level crush where he teased you relentlessly, but he seriously had little to no game and that was how he knew to get your attention.

Some fine tuning was most definitely needed, he would admit that. 

Did the teasing that Josh relentlessly tormented you with sear into your memory and want you to second guess what you were doing? Absolutely. In fact, one night in particular would always stick out to you. A junior year pool party where Josh announced to the entire party during a truth or dare session that you had never slept with a boy let alone kissed a boy, mortified you. 

You could remember the shocked faces of your friends who had all recently gone on sexual journeys that school year and were no longer at your clumsy virgin level anymore. Only having told Jake in confidence, you were horrified to discover that Josh had obtained that information and that he thought it would gain some laughter and bump him up in popularity to divulge it.

He had regretted it immediately after it left his mouth. Your vision of him forever tainted. Of course, you would never admit that was the line he had crossed, instead picking other things about him that annoyed you. Josh knew the real reason. 

So, where did that leave you both? Sitting in Josh’s living room about to sign your annulment paperwork after four months of fake dating. He had called you that afternoon at work and said his lawyer had dropped them off and all that was needed was a signature from you both. 

Holding the pen to paper you signed your name, handing it over to Josh and seeing him do the same. Letting out a shaky laugh with a puff of air, you eyed him. “Okay, well that nightmare is now over.” He chuckled with you, hands rubbing nervously over the tops of his thighs. 

“I am sorry about all of this.” You finally broke the tension by saying. Josh knew what you meant. This had been your idea. The entire thing. Having made a bet with Jake that if you could win on a $200 bet in one go at a blackjack table, he owed you $5,000. Being as inebriated as he was, he hastily agreed. Yet, when he asked what would happen if you lost it left you fumbling for an answer. Something worth at least that monetary value, you reached your decision quickly. 

“I’ll marry Josh tonight.” Everyone hooted and hollered, watching you place your bet and of course, losing on the spot. Josh immediately invited everyone to come to the chapel with you both, saying he couldn’t imagine marrying you without his family there. One Instagram livestream and twenty some odd stories later, you two were hitched. 

He shrugged with a chuckle thinking back to it. “It’s a funny story we will always look back on and laugh about.” Agreeing with him and not sure what your next move was, you rose from his sofa, heading toward the front door when your name echoed in the large room.

Turning, you saw Josh cross to get to you. Colliding together, your purse fell to the floor, wrapping your arms around his neck as he crushed you to him. “Don’t go.” He spoke out. You nodded eagerly, bringing him back to you. 

“I like you. A lot.” He spoke out in between kisses. Only a muffled mhm and me too escaped your throat before Josh led you to his room. 

It was like answering a craving that your body was shaking to get its fill on. Like a drug you had never experienced before. Needing him in you more than the air you breathed. Filling the void that only Josh could fill.

Only Josh. That was all your mind could think of. Could handle. Even as he eyed you, laying nude in his sheets, he riddled every thought. 

“Can I take you out?” You laughed, seeing him eyeing you from above you. “I’m serious! I know we kind of did this backwards, but I really do like you. I want to take you out. For real.” Narrowing your eyes at him, you grabbed his chin in your fingertips. “Promise you won’t marry me this time?” He nodded, looking at you like you were crazy.

 “Absolutely. The plan is to knock you up this time.” 

[landinrris]

Since you’ve been re-blogging all these great gifs of young Lando, what did he and Carlos find most intriguing about the other the night they first met at that party in your football au? I imagine there must’ve been such a lovely spark. Don’t know if you’re going by canon, but it reminds of how Carlos said Lando was quite shy during their first meeting at the MTC, which is very sweet.

The young Lando gifs are destroying me tbh. The short answer is that Carlos is immediately drawn to Lando because of circumstance (both hiding out from a party). And then he stays because Lando is just real with him- he doesn't pay attention to football, even to the club that plays down the street, so he has no idea who Carlos is. He sticks around and wants to get to know Carlos for him rather than because Carlos might be able to get him match tickets or a tour of the club. Lando definitely gets more confident over time, but Carlos makes him a little wild from the start.

The long answer is that I have written this part, so why not a little prequel action! Takes place while Carlos and Brentford are still in the Championship League rather than the Premier League.

-----

If Carlos had a choice, he would not be at a house party right now. A house party after playing an away match three hours away that was grueling and maybe the longest ninety minutes of Carlos’ life to date. They’d barely come out on top, a fact about half the guys wanted to celebrate after a rocky start to the season. 

Pierre had somehow managed to convince him to come out. Carlos was the captain after all, and his tagging along would be that much more of a morale boost. Plus, it’s not like the party was a total stranger’s. The house belonged to some kid Marcus knew who was busy being productive in uni. 

So, Carlos swallowed his pride, resolved to stand in the corner with a beer or two, and provide moral support to whoever needed it.

The house itself is modest. It’s close by the university— small and shared by three guys whose parents names are probably on the deed. The party already looks like it’s in full swing, and Carlos wonders how long it’ll be until the police are called.

A few people recognize and cheer when they see them, but for the most part, the party goes on as it had. Pros and cons about not being in the Premier League, Carlos supposes.

Carlos loses Daniel and Pierre pretty quickly and is sure he lost track of Liam and Marcus before they ever got into the Ubers to come over.

He sighs as he takes in everyone around him. He’s probably not much older than half the people here— certainly closer in age than Daniel is to everyone, but that doesn’t mean Carlos feels connected. He knows he looks older than he is, not helped by his clothing choices— jeans and a navy henley. Not that he has much better “going out” options, but still.

The lights are half out in the living room, spilling out into the back garden where he sees plenty of people chatting and playing some kind of yard game. 

In the distance, he sees the glow of what must be the kitchen and heads in that direction. The sacred place. The holy land. As much as he’ll hate it, maybe he can linger in there and someone will make small talk with him. He’s not always overly thrilled to talk about football when he’s not required to, but maybe that would help pass the time now.

The kitchen is small— proportionate to match what Carlos judges to the rest of the house. It’s plain to see boys live here, though they’ve tried to clean up as best as they can. The appliances are begging to be replaced, the coils on the stove rust colored with age and definitely not level. The cabinets are white clapboard as well with dull brass knobs. Carlos didn’t go to uni, but he’s no stranger to the cheapness of a setup.

On the far counter sits a few bottles of liquor and juice. If one was more lazy, a sports drink cooler sits next to that, undoubtedly containing a concoction Carlos could only dream of. He’s not looking to fall victim to alcohol poisoning though. 

As if someone in the room could read his mind, a voice speaks up from behind him. “There’s some beer in the fridge if you want something less caustic.”

He turns around to see who’s just spoken to him and finds a boy sitting up on the countertop next to the stove, a plastic cup in his hand and the heels of his feet resting against the bottom cabinet door. 

Carlos spends more than a few seconds staring, but he can’t help it.

The kid— because he looks like a kid— has frizzy brown hair that looks like it’s trying its hardest to do something against the laws of nature. Even in the yellowish light of the kitchen, Carlos can tell his eyes are mesmerizing and hard to explain. His face is dotted with what looks like a combination of freckles and acne. 

Carlos wordlessly turns to the fridge, pulls out the first beer he finds, and floats over to the other side of the kitchen helplessly.

“Thanks,” he tilts the bottle in the guy’s direction and looks around for a bottle opener. 

“Behind the liquor bottles.”

Carlos needs to get his head out of his ass because the bottle opener isn’t even hiding. He does spare a glance at what he’s about to put in his mouth and figures he’s had worse.

“Did you know those beers were there because they are supposed to be drunken or because you are one of the people throwing this party?”

“Probably no to both. My roommate dragged me here because he’s friends with the guys throwing it. I just snooped in retaliation. Don’t know why they’re there.”

Carlos can’t help but laugh disbelievingly. He props his hip against the stove a few feet to the guy’s right like he’s posting up residence. “Well then, I thank you…”

“Lando, not much of a party guy.” He sticks his hand out in introduction, and Carlos can’t help but take it. He repeats Lando’s name to himself in his head a few times, mind rolling over the n and d like it's some foreign word he's learning for the first time.

“Nice to meet you, Lando. I’m Carlos, also not much of a party guy.”

“Did you also get dragged here or are you just a masochist?”

“No, I am also here with friends, but they disappeared almost as soon as we walked through the door. One of them knows one of the people who lives here. I guess. My plan was to just hide in a corner with a beer for an hour and then make a quiet getaway.”

“Well, it’s not much of a corner, but it is relatively quiet in here.”

“I am touched you would share your space. So you are in uni then?”

Carlos tells himself it’s not a crime to make small talk despite feeling like a dinosaur around people a few years younger than himself. There’s just something in this Lando guy’s eyes that has Carlos leaning in closer and wanting to know more. It doesn’t hurt that he’s cute on top of the strange pull.

“Yeah, it’s my first year. I live down on campus with a few people. It’s been decent so far. Mostly spent this term trying to get my bearings and figure out what’s going on.” He glances down into his cup, and Carlos suddenly wonders if he’s even old enough to drink. Carlos should probably leave him alone.

“And what are you wanting to do?” he asks instead.

“Art— sculpture and pottery more specifically. I like making things and getting my hands dirty, you know? Something tells me you are not in uni though.” Lando purses his lips like he’s only now coming to the realization and is somewhat dismayed by it.

Maybe Carlos’ face revealed too much.

He bends his head down and smiles ruefully. “Ah, no, I am not. I just turned twenty-two. I suppose this makes me a bit of a loser being at this kind of party.”

Lando shrugs. “Maybe. I doubt hiding in the kitchen helps that.”

Carlos laughs. “Fair. Does this also make you a loser?”

Lando scoffs in what looks like mock offense. “I’ll have you know I have plenty of friends. They’re all just…” he gestures elsewhere, “Making out with girls somewhere else. Also not really my thing.”

“Randomly making out or the girls? Because if it’s just the making out, I’m sure there are plenty out there who would get to know you first,” Carlos asks before he can stop himself. He’s not even drunk and here he is asking about Lando’s sexuality.

Lando’s eyes go wide. “Uh… no, it’s the girls. Not really my scene, and I’d rather not find out which of the guys’ it is either. Not a few weeks into my first year.”

Carlos hates the way his heart skips a beat. “I know what you mean. Sometimes it feels like it is better to stay quiet than open yourself up to people who can judge and hurt you.” He doesn’t know why he admits as such to a complete stranger. He’s not out publicly, and just because Lando didn’t say I know when Carlos introduced himself doesn’t mean he doesn’t know who Carlos is. For all he knows, Lando could go online later and tell everyone that Brentford’s captain is gay.

Lando doesn’t look surprised though. He doesn’t reach for his phone to tell the world. If anything, his eyes are understanding in a way that strips Carlos bare.

“Have you found someone? Who doesn’t do that to you?” Lando asks. 

He sounds like he’s asking partly out of his own curiosity and partly for Carlos’ well-being. 

“My family and some close friends know. But if you are asking if I have a boyfriend, no I do not.” Carlos will not admit to reveling in the way Lando’s cheeks redden. It’s like he didn’t expect for Carlos to figure him out quite so easily. 

Lando nods and takes a gulp of his drink. Carlos can’t help but look on amused and sip at his own.

“I didn’t mean to pry, I’m sorry.”

For an unbearable second, Lando looks like he’s about to hop down from the counter and flee, which is the opposite of what Carlos wants.

“You didn’t pry, it’s fine.” When Lando looks unconvinced, Carlos repeats himself. “Lando, it’s fine. You don’t have to be sorry.” He wonders if Lando expects him to ask the question in return even if he admitted he was essentially single a few minutes prior. But Carlos won’t let himself open up any kind of possibility with Lando right now. Not before—

“How old are you, anyway?”

Carlos is about to wonder why Lando looks suddenly morose at Carlos’ question before he answers. “I’ll be eighteen in a few weeks.”

Carlos almost chokes on his drink. “I thought you said you were in uni.”

“I skipped a year and I have a late birthday.” Lando sighs and leans his head back on the cabinet behind him. “It always freaks people out.”

It’s understandable, especially while Lando’s still young. “I can imagine. I didn’t mean to be like other people. It just surprised me. How was that for you?”

Because Carlos finds that he wants to hear and wants to still learn everything about Lando even if it’s only for friendship right now. Lando may be mesmerizing, but Carlos can and will control himself.

Lando doesn’t look nearly as downtrodden when Carlos doesn’t run away. Instead, he launches into stories about school that gradually meander into conversation from other areas of life. Carlos steers them clear of anything related to football, utterly uninterested in learning whether it changes Lando’s opinion of him.

Sure, Carlos isn’t a Premier League player, but Brentford is sitting fourth in the Championship, and Carlos knows there’s no limit to what people will do for a leg up.

The topic doesn’t even come up in general, making Carlos think that Lando doesn’t even watch it— and wouldn’t that be something. Of course, it’s not outside of the realm of possibility, but to seemingly click so well with someone in a genuine sense and not because the other person is trying to make themselves appealing because of what Carlos does for a living? It’s refreshing.

He loses track of time huddled in the kitchen talking to Lando. He learns that Lando sells some of his pottery online already and that he wants to grow his business throughout school and beyond it. He shows Carlos some of his work— beautiful and flowing vases and pots with artful designs that remind Carlos of pieces locked away in his mother’s china cabinet. He’s been involved with pottery since primary school when clay pots consisted of connecting coils and pinching a ball out into something usable. 

They talk about their families— the woes of growing up the middle child with multiple sisters. Lando makes Carlos laugh harder than he thought possible, the two of them seemingly syncing their laughs in a way he’s ever only done with a few close friends. It makes warmth bloom in his chest.

Only once Daniel wraps his knuckles on the door frame of the kitchen does Carlos realize it sounds quieter beyond the kitchen than it used to. Carlos tries not to react as if he’s been caught out doing something secretive. 

Daniel hesitates as he seemingly takes the scene in. “We’re getting ready to go, you coming? Most everyone is starting to clear out.”

Carlos looks down at his watch and balks at the time. So much for only staying for an hour when it’s been about three. “Uh, yes I will meet you outside?”

Daniel nods and turns back into the living room. 

Carlos turns back to Lando and takes a leap. “Give me your phone number? We can keep talking and maybe hang out properly?”

Lando’s eyes widen. “Yeah? Yeah, okay. I can send myself a message from your phone if you want.”

“Okay, perfect.” Carlos fishes his phone from his back pocket, navigates to a new message, and hands his phone over. He saves Lando’s contact after Lando hands his phone back, going so far as to tell Lando to pose for a picture for his contact photo. Lando puts his hands under his chin and squints his eyes into an exaggerated close-mouthed smile. It’s hopelessly endearing. “I will see you around?”

“For sure. Thanks for keeping me company.”

“Anytime.”

Carlos is somewhat morose to leave the little room that had become his haven over the last few hours. Lando’s face might as well be burned into his retinas for as long as he’s been looking at him, and yet it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. The living room and front walkway are too dark, the people not as endearing.

Somehow Carlos is going home with the same people he came with, though they’re definitely on the tipsy side compared to Carlos who had only had an additional beer.

“Everything good?” Daniel asks, lingering as Pierre and Alex climb into the waiting Uber.

Carlos startles out of his own head and looks to see Daniel watching him. “Me? Yes, everything is good.”

“Carlos, mate,” Pierre exclaims when they’re seated. “I thought for sure you would have left like an hour and a half ago.”

“Nah, Sainz looked like he was having a good time, didn’t you?” Daniel protests.

Carlos thinks of Lando sitting on top of the counter with his blinding heart-like smile. He doesn’t have any qualms about agreeing and letting them gloat. “Yeah, I did actually.” Carlos doesn’t pay attention to whatever Pierre says after, choosing instead to look out the window instead and watch the trees and houses roll by.

[lesinquietes]

Rancher!Toshinori wanders into town every weekend to have a drink at the local saloon. Sometimes, he fantasizes about cracking a cold one when the sun scorches his muscular back on hot afternoons. He never does, though. He doesn’t want to be uncoordinated. Tending to his animals requires complete care. He’s cultivated a unique bond with each of his livestock, such that he feels they deserve his undivided attention during the work day. Breaks are what evenings and weekends are for. Beers are for nights at the pub.

He isn’t one to socialize, being a bachelor in his late forties. He doesn’t have much interest in the folks around town, save for you. He met you when you messed up his order on a busy Saturday night. To make up for it, you gave him a full glass of tap, on the house. He thanked you with a large tip. The next time he visited, you thanked him profusely. It turns out you were just getting out of a bad marriage, and you needed the money as you get back on your feet. He empathizes. He’s only been in a few relationships, but he remembers the familiar sting of rejection when they came to an untimely close. He can’t imagine what you’re going through. All the same, he places his hand on yours and encourages you to keep going — to keep fighting.

These days, he sits down at the bar and asks you what your drink of choice is. Sometimes, you’ll give him a disgusting concoction you’re experimenting with. Other times, when you’re not feeling as cruel, you’ll mix him a sweet cocktail. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say you’re flirting. That can’t be true, though… can it? A woman like you could do light years better than a washed up man like him. But that doesn’t stop a deep, shrouded part him from praying that you feel the same way he does, from hoping that he’ll get the courage to ask you on a date one day.

Next l

𝔉𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔲

[oliver-quick-ens-my-pulse]

Instinct

Sebastian x f!reader

Summary - Anon request for “There are so many lust potion requests and I totally get it. but I'd love it switched up where mc is the one dose, and Sebastian is quick to know without being told. I can imagine only him being such a tease before offering to help also, you're doing great! keep it up”

Word Count - 1,550

Warnings - 18+ smut

You had known better than to take one of Garreth's concoctions, but this had to be the worst one yet. Usually, they just tasted pretty awful and didn't do too much else. This time, when you drank the potion you felt the warmth as it passed through your throat and all the way through your stomach.

You felt it lower than that. You bailed on the interaction entirely, waving him off by telling him it was just one of his usual duds. You retreated to the Slytherin common room and hope like hell that it was unoccupied so you could catch your breath for a moment.

You could feel the slick between your legs and clenched your thighs together during your walk. Your cheeks felt hot and your robe felt too heavy on your shoulders. What on earth was that potion supposed to do?

You flopped down onto one of the sofas, tossing your robe over the arm. You were hyperaware of where your uniform clung to your skin. The slight sweat you'd broken into was not helping at all. You were feeling needy in a way you had only ever felt in the comfort of your bed, imagining things with your fingers moving desperately between your own legs.

You thought about doing that here and now. The rational part of you was losing against the lust you were feeling. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths to try and calm your feelings. After a few short minutes, you heard the door open and scrambled to make yourself decent, without your legs fully on display for whoever was entering. Fuck. You weren't sure how to feel about Sebastian being the face that greeted you as you patted the wrinkles from your skirt. He was often the face of your fantasies and you weren't so sure you were ready for him to know that.

His red cheeks smattered with freckles indicated he must have been searching for you after he watch you storm away from Garreth. He eyed you suspiciously having noticed you jump at his arrival.

"Y/N? Is everything alright? What was wrong with the potion?" He put a hand to your forehead, seeing your uneasy look, and was shocked to feel how hot you were.

"Whoa!" He took a seat beside you with no idea how your stomach churned from his proximity. He brushed your hair from your forehead and rested a hand on your knee as he leaned close to you, examining your eyes.

"Merlin, you feel warm. Should I take you to the hospital wing? If that bloody Weasley had anything in there that could hurt you, I swear —"

You cut him off, placing your hand over his you fought a moan as you seemed to notice every strong detail in the back of his hand.

"No! I mean, no," your voice felt entirely too loud, "I think that I'll be okay I just. I don't exactly feel right for the moment."

You shifted in your seat, unable to keep your eyes off him. The look of concern in his eyes was endearing and it made you want to tear his clothes off even more. You studied the way some of his freckles met the plush, pinkness of his lips.

His tie was twisted all wrong as usual, and his dress clothes sat awkward and wrinkled beneath his robes. His trousers weren't wrinkled at all. He was visibly not even aroused and yet they strained against his muscular thighs, pulled tight across his sack.

Your breathing had picked up and Sebastian had been speaking to you, but you had no idea what he had said. Suddenly the situation felt like too much. You had to get to your room and get rid of your clothes and get down to business with yourself.

You stood up abruptly, mumbling some half-assed apology before you made your escape, but you were caught by a strong hand around your wrist.

"Y/N," his voice was low and gentle now and it got your attention enough to think straight for a few moments.

"Sebastian, I have to go. We can speak later," you insisted, the whine in your voice apparent, but he wouldn't release his grip on you as you tugged against him.

He repeated your name and stood in front of you, eyes gazing upon you heavily. "So this is a problem that you must go to your room to solve?" He raised an eyebrow at your behavior, putting two and two together.

Your resolve was shot at this point, so you just admitted it to him. "Yes. I — I don't know what was in that potion, but I need to go and take care of myself." Your cheeks burned, you thought he would at least let you escape at this point to save you both the embarrassment.

The realization of what was bothering you dawned on him. He couldn't hide the smirk on his lips as he walked towards you to close the gap.

"So that's what you're feeling? That's why you're practically on fire? Is this fire...somewhere else as well?" He kept his eyes on you the entire time while gliding fingers across your abdomen and hovering at your hips. You couldn't control the way your body arched into his touch, making you gasp.

"Yes," you whispered. You felt like your body was about to explode and he didn't even know how badly you had ached for him even before this day.

He leaned close to your ear and dipped a bold hand into your waistband, "Maybe I can help put that fire out?"

The moan that escaped your lips was uncontrollable as his fingers went past your undergarments and brushed over your mound to make soft contact with your bundle of nerves. Your breathing was heavy now and you wrapped your arms around his neck to steady yourself.

"Sebastian we can't right here, if someone else comes in —"

"If someone else comes in we'll simply shoo them away, alright?"

"But I want more. I need more." Your words were desperate as he circled around your clit. He dipped his fingers lower to smear your juices around for a smoother experience.

A dark laugh fell from his lips, "I'll give you more if you come to me at a time you're not...under the influence, but I am kind enough to help you with the problem at hand. You're soaking wet, were you thinking of me?" He was smug now and every reaction from you just fueled that emotion in him.

He allowed you to prop your body against his as he used his thumb to find a steady rhythm on your clit and his fingers teased at your entrance.

"If you won't indulge me by answering, I might just have to stop. You need to use your words for me, darling."

You could barely think of any words with the way you felt your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. His fingers were slightly calloused and thick and they felt so good. You whined and grabbed at his robes when he threatened to pull away, so you did your best to form some responses.

"I think about you ah — all the time Sebastian. When I'm alone in my bed it's you that I really want."

Sebastian felt partly bad for taking advantage of your current state to pull such intimate confessions from you, but now he was really intrigued. And he couldn't wait for the effects of the potion to wear off so he could really see what you thought of him.

He thrust his fingers inside of you, curling them until he felt you stand on your tip-toes to meet him at the perfect spot. He could feel how tight you were and knew you would be cumming all over him soon. He used his other hand to press against your lower stomach and he placed wet kisses below your ear and on your neck, feeling you shudder with each other.

"Well, why don't you cum for me now, princess. There might be more for you later," he growled the last part into your ear and you could feel his breath against you. It was all too much and as he increased his speed with his fingers, thrusting into you more aggressively you fell apart against him.

You bucked your hips against him and buried your face against his chest to contain your cries of pleasure.

"You're such a good girl," he cooed, now raising a hand to pet the top of your head.

Your head felt much clearer now and the reality of what just happened sank in as you looked up at Sebastian. Of course, he had a plastered to his face. You flinched when he removed his hand from between your legs and he brought it up between the two of you. He stared you down before putting the fingers he'd had inside of you all of the way in his mouth, sucking them clean.

He wiped his own saliva on his robe and used his other hand to press your chin up and close the jaw you had opened in disbelief.

"Did that really just happen?"

"It did and I've got to say I wouldn't mind finding you in heat like that again."

[iaure]

𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁; 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟthe dearest collection - part one/beloved 𓆩♡𓆪 part two/prized 𓆩♡𓆪 part three/devoted 𓆩♡𓆪 part four/desperate 𓆩♡𓆪 part five/blind 𓆩♡𓆪 part six/watcher 𓆩♡𓆪 part seven/ardor 𓆩♡𓆪 part eight/fervor this is very heavily inspired by @//clusterfuck-yandere's yandere leon headcanons; please check out their works. this is something of a love letter to their puppy obsession series.

yandere leon s. kennedy headcanons; reader is a survivor of raccoon city.

tw: general yandere behaviour, NSFW (leon has an erotic daydream/slight somnophilia + it is marked by a large page marker like the one below), stalking, ptsd, mentions of mourning

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ i am very excited for part four! this one was much longer than the rest; this makes me happy. i may potentially take a slight break from this as i want to see where i want to take this small series; i want to deliver the best product i can to all of you ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ i also want to take time to create my own persona for this blog; i am thinking a sheep. what do you think? ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝•༝•⸝⸝ᐢ꒱⸒⸒

he'd been getting worse.

♡ the truth of the matter was that this was an addiction.

♡ Leon could manage to quit smoking. but this was entirely different. how do you quit someone?

♡ and it's not like it was hard to love you.

♡ gaining entry into your home wasn't difficult. you kept a spare key above the doorframe, and Leon was always careful to replace it.

♡ your apartment always smelled of you, felt like you, and whenever he went in, he couldn't help but imagine a life where he lived with you-as your boyfriend. Your fiancé? Your husband, if he dared.

♡ and he made sure to take care of you, even if you didn't know!

♡ he knew how hard it was for you to take care of yourself, especially with your work.

♡ when he saw that you had made yourself a list of things to do, he was so proud!

♡ he knew you were taking steps to live better. what was wrong with helping, just a little bit?

♡ a dish here, a wipedown there, a dusting every now and then. small things.

♡ he'd made a handful of habits, such as watching you sleep or snagging the occasional piece of clothing for his own purposes.

♡ your closet had just enough space for him to stow away if you ever showed signs of waking up.

♡ you were just too sweet. obsession was staring down Leon's love, and you didn't even know it.

how was he supposed to stay away?

♡ as for your work, Loen had made his peace with it.

♡ as alarming as it was that you were in possible danger every day, it also meant that you were happier, getting more sunshine, and the opportunity to get yourself nice things.

♡ your happiness always came first, after all.

♡ secondly was the blessing that Leon got that was seeing you whenever he could, just by strutting down from his gym and watching you brew some sort of ridiculous concoction.

♡ overall, your work was more positives than anything. besides, Leon could simply watch you walk to and fro from work to make sure you were safe.

♡ his perception of you had completely expanded as well.

♡ back then, on the AOL forum, he only knew a few vaguely scattered personal details that you'd hint at in posts and comments, mentioned offhand, like your brother.

♡ but now, he knew so much more.

♡ he knew your favourite colours, foods, hobbies, who you liked, who you didn't, what you thought about your work, your opinions on just about anything-you'd share them if he simply asked.

♡ you were so sweet, so clueless, and he loved it.

♡ you would spend hours with Leon simply talking about little to nothing, and it meant everything to him.

♡ you were so kind, so soft, and every word that fell from your lips was divine.

♡ for the last two weeks, he'd been as sneaky as he possibly could.

but you were bound to take notice.

♡ he was hanging out with you as you closed the bakery, counting out the tills and setting aside the deposits. Leon was simply happy to be in your presence.

♡ you began speaking about how you felt unsafe, about how you felt someone staring at you in the night.

♡ instantly, Leon felt guilty.

♡ he didn't mean to scare you. he was trying to protect you, for goodness' sake!

♡ he wasn't frustrated with you, though. of course. he never would be. you were perfect and did no wrong.

♡ he wished there was some way that he could convey he didn't want to hurt you on those nights where he made sure you were safe, but nothing seemed like a good idea.

♡ the guilt chewed away at his insides until you asked him that...holy, divine question.

"would you walk me home?"

♡ he might've gotten on his knees and wept.

♡ what opportunity was this? walking next to your warm body, in the rain, under an umbrella...almost like a couple.

♡ the idea sent Leon's heart into overdrive, pounding in his ears as all sorts of ideas filled his head.

♡ upon his enthusiastic agreement, your face filled with comfort, and Leon couldn't help but feel a bit delighted.

♡ he didn't care if he was going to get soaked. as you locked the door to the bakery, he took care to cover you entirely with the umbrella. you asked him if he was cold at all, but no. the heat of your body was enough to light him on fire.

♡ Leon was in heaven.

♡ during the whole walk, he made sure to keep an eye out on the off chance that there were bad actors around. he even made a show of whipping his head back and forth, which he knew you noticed.

♡ and several times, you laughed. oh, what a sweet angelic sound.

♡ how he wished this walk could last forever; your hand brushing against his, the gentle lull of your voice as you made conversation.

♡ he wasn't sure which god or entity or spirit or soul he pleased, but he was thanking all of them.

♡ when the two of you reached your apartment, he could feel himself deflate a bit. he was so endlessly grateful for the time you gave him, but he dared to want more.

♡ he knew he wouldn't be satiated, no matter what you did. but he could hope. he could pray.

♡ whatever prayer he said worked; you turned with an almost guilty look-as though you could ever be guilty-and asked him if he wanted to see the inside of your apartment.

♡ he practically cheered.

♡ when you turned to finish opening the door, he couldn't help a low whine from leaving his throat. his chest was tight, his heart was pounding, and it was like all his dreams were coming true.

♡ he had seen your apartment dozens of times. at that point, every photo and speck of dust had their locations memorised.

♡ spending time alone, with you, in your apartment, with your scent and your signs of life surrounding him might've even been too much to bear.

♡ but he accepted, because what insanity would it be for him to say no? what lunacy would have to possess him?

♡ upon stepping in, he did everything a polite guest should do; took off his shoes, set his bag and umbrella down, and proceeded to try and shake off the excess water.

♡ your laugh at his shake made his heart swell.

♡ you were trying to dig for food, and you had bent over at the waist; it made Leon delirious.

♡ he couldn't not stare.

♡ you either didn't notice or didn't mind, because you gave up, ordering a pizza instead.

♡ he tried to pay-this was dreamy enough, you didn't need to do anything else-but you insisted, saying it was your way of thanking him.

♡ thanking him? for what could you possibly be thanking him for? that walk was no burden, it was a blessing. why would you need to thank him?

but you refused his money.

♡ he felt guilty, but you turned on your TV and began watching some romantic sitcom that he'd never heard of before.

♡ was it a sign? Leon couldn't tell.

♡ the peace was domestic, crumbling away at Leon's self-restraint. why couldn't every day be like this?

♡ if he just told you, then you'd understand. you would forgive him. you would hold him close.

♡ his mind began to wander. did you think of him like that? did you even consider him as a romantic interest?

♡ would you? if he asked?

♡ the question, confession, was on the tip of his tongue.

♡ you were good. you were kind. you wouldn't be creeped out.

♡ he opened his mouth, and-

the power went out.

♡ his heart dropped to his toes, and all the courage he managed to muster disappeared as you got up to light some candles.

♡ he went back to his bag, rummaging for his military-grade flashlight that he kept on hand.

♡ he'd rather you have it, than something go wrong and you stumble in the dark.

♡ he'd rather walk home in the pouring rain than you risk anything for a second.

♡ you lit a handful of candles, setting them aside as he passed the flashlight off to you.

♡ he figured it was time to go, licking his wounds and dragging his pride and courage behind him.

♡ but you didn't say goodbye.

♡ instead, you asked where he lived. his heart seized.

♡ he could do two things from here. one, admit that he lived maybe a fifteen minute walk away.

♡ or he could lie.

♡ he knew how your heart worked, for the most part. you felt like you were in debt. you wouldn't make him walk back in the rain.

♡ so he could pretend that he lived far away, even by car. he could just...manipulate you.

♡ after a beat too long, he made his choice.

♡ he 'confessed' that he lived thirty minutes from his gym, which was ten from the bakery, which was five from your apartment.

♡ and he could see you think in real time.

♡ your eyes flickered from the door, to his still-damp hair, to the half-eaten pizza on the counter, to the flashlight.

♡ and god, the guilt was going to eat him alive.

♡ he knew you were kind. he knew you were soft. and he abused that. he abused your sweetness and goodness. for what? his sick kicks?

♡ but your pretty lips pursed, and they formed around those words that he wanted-no, needed-so desperately.

would you want to stay the night?

♡ the guilt disappeared, his heart wept for joy!

♡ yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, a thousand times, yes! always! yes!

♡ you seemed relieved, disappearing into your room and coming out with men's pyjamas.

♡ they were a little snug on Leon, hanging a bit low, but he certainly didn't mind. this was effectively the greatest task of his life.

♡ he had to be a viable partner for you. he had to show his worth.

♡ you were quick to go to bed. with the power still out, you clearly just wanted to wait it out.

♡ Leon pulled a blanket out of his bag, but you insisted on giving him several more, as well as a pillow.

♡ and oh god, how was he supposed to control himself? they all smelled like you.

♡ maybe he'd take one in the morning. for safekeeping.

♡ as he lay on your couch, the thought crossed his mind to wander while you were asleep, to see everything with the daring of you being inside your own home.

♡ but he knew better. or, at least, he thought he did.

♡ ten minutes turned into thirty. thirty turned into an hour, turned into two, into four, before he finally cracked.

♡ he literally had you at his fingertips, in a situation where he'd most likely be excused. he had to use it. he had to make the most of it.

♡ and, despite everything he could do...he wandered into your room. and he watched you.

♡ you snored, just a little bit. it was a cute snore that Leon liked. you also slept a bit erratically, sometimes throwing your body in weird positions.

♡ part of your blanket was on the floor, your head was between two pillows, and you were out like a light.

♡ or apparently not, because after about ten minutes of Leon standing there, you woke up abruptly. you gave a small gasp, bleary eyes still trying to grasp what you were seeing. you asked what he was doing.

♡ and what was he doing, honestly? he was watching you sleep. but he couldn't admit to that, not in a thousand years.

♡ so, he said the first thing that he could come up with, in a voice that lost every shred of pride he had left.

"i thought you were gone."

♡ and he can see the pity on your face, and he can't help but almost feel childish at how he hoped you'd comfort him.

♡ your eyes wandered over him, as though putting pieces together. you finally lay your head back down, and pat your bed.

♡ Leon goes into overdrive. again. for how many times this night were you going to do that? how many times were you going to make his heart leap into his throat?

♡ he, for a second, isn't sure what you want. there's no way you'd...

"do you want me to...sleep with you?"

♡ his voice was weak, and he asked, again, until you nodded. maybe you were just moving in your sleep. he asked another time. you nodded again. he asked once more. you said yes.

♡ he started shaking. his grip on your blanket was white-knuckled, his knees were ready to buckle, and the world was spinning.

♡ you did. you wanted to share your bed with him. you wanted to sleep with him. you want him. you wanted him!

♡ he gets into bed with you, gently setting the blanket over your body and trying to not freak out.

♡ you were so warm and so close to him. everything was invading his senses, and when you realised he was staring, you shot him a smile that turned his insides to goo.

♡ he had to take this chance. and he moved a little closer.

♡ you didn't move.

♡ and you were just so unguarded, so gentle. Leon's mind was wandering.

♡ what would you look like in a far more intimate scenario?

♡ what would your kisses look like? feel like?

♡ Leon squirmed a bit.

♡ what would your skin feel like? the skin that he couldn't touch? your neck, your stomach, your thighs...?

♡ his eyes wandered down the silhouette of your body under the covers.

♡ how would you feel underneath him? if he was touching your chest, suckling on your neck, leaving hickeys for everyone to see?

♡ how would you feel if he had his hands everywhere, pinned under his body and rutting into you?

♡ how would you act if he had his cock in you? how would you moan? would you try to close your eyes? or would you keep them open and watch how he loved you?

♡ would you be quick to orgasm? or would you take time, and Leon would be blessed to have your body for so long?

♡ he thought you would maybe try to cover yourself with your hands. you did seem the shy type. oh, but he'd be greedy, and he'd ask if you could move them-he wants to see all of you.

♡ he thinks that you'd be quiet at first, trying to stop yourself from being loud in case it woke your neighbours. but Leon would be in so deep into that tight, divine warmth, and you'd call out his name.

♡ and he'd swallow it. he'd take your lips in his and devour every gasp and moan that left your mouth.

♡ he'd never make you beg, either. he'd do everything to make you be so perfectly spent, fucked out of your mind and left limp on your bed. and even then, Leon wouldn't be satiated.

♡ he'd need more. he'd take you in his mouth, even if you had passed out, just to keep working you until your taste was all over his tongue. and when you woke up, he'd still be hard at work, trying to get more, begging for more.

♡ and maybe you'd decide to take him, instead, as thanks for taking care of you.

♡ you'd be on top of him, sucking sweetly at his cock, and he'd cry out your name with no inhibition. he didn't care about the people in your apartment complex. he just cared about you, and that you would know just how much he loved you.

♡ he'd fuck you for hours, days even, to finally have the curve of your body and the taste of your cum memorised.

♡ but let's be honest.

♡ he'd never have enough.

𓂋 ʚ♡ɞ taglist

@theybotomy ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @kujosuke

[theradicalscrivener]

The Little Spoon Part 3

After the events of their previous experiment, Felipe sets to work figuring out what is causing the cumulative effects of his potions.

(P.S. Ya boi's got Linktree and Bluesky now)

[First Chapter] || [Previous Chapter]

                Caleb sat on the edge of the table while watching Felipe hard at work. Even though Caleb’s build was as broad and muscular as ever, Felipe’s old clothes now hung loosely on Caleb’s much-dwindled frame. During the past year, Caleb had taken a few doses of the shrinking serum. Each time, the loss of height had been more significant than before.  Now, the once towering 6’3 stud now stood a meager 4’6.

                Caleb was now shorter than his “little lover” by several inches. Not only had Caleb dropped so small, but Felipe had also shot up a few inches himself. It was this recent growth spurt that Felipe had enjoyed that was why Felipe was now rushing around the kitchen brewing several pots full of various concoctions.

                Every burner on the oven was running as well as a few hotplates. Even the coffee pot was doing double duty as a potion brewer. Everywhere he looked there were pots and carafes full of various colored liquids in various states of boiling.

“You’re so hot when you’re in nerd mode,” Caleb said sweetly.

Felipe looked up from the pot that he had been stirring to flash a smile at his shrunken boyfriend. He looked more like a chemist than a witch in his current getup. He had large, plastic, protective goggles over his eyes, and a large, white lab coat over his clothing.

“Thanks. You look cute as hell yourself. I never thought I’d see you in my old hand-me-downs,” Felipe said with a laugh. Felipe flashed a playful wink at his boyfriend. When he did so, his gaze lingered for a moment in Caleb’s thick, sculpted pecs. Thanks to the plunging V of the oversized shirt Caleb was wearing, Felipe was given a clear line of sight to a lot of cleavage.

“So, what exactly are we doing here?” Caleb asked.

“The potions have been having a compounding effect. That’s not supposed to happen,” Felipe explained.

“Yeah, but we’ve known that for a while. Why are you turning our apartment into a chem lab? I feel like we’re going to get a house call from Walter White,” Caleb said.

“Right. So, the other day, when I grew, it wasn’t just my height that changed,” Felipe explained.

“That was so hot. When can we do that again?” Caleb replied.

Felipe smiled. “I love that you loved it, but I only took a height potion. The whole thing with the dick was not supposed to happen,” Felipe explained.

“But I’m glad it did!” Caleb cheered.

Felipe reached over and playfully ruffled Caleb’s hair. “Oh yeah. I had a blast too, but it completely destroyed my theory,” Felipe explained.

Caleb tilted his head to the side like a curious puppy. Felipe’s smile grew wider at the sight. It was still hard to believe how Caleb managed to be so hot and beefy and still look adorable at the same time.

“At first, I thought that with each dosage, the body got better… primed? For change. Like, think of modeling clay. It’s hard as a rock when you first get it,” Felipe said.

“I know the feeling,” Caleb replied.

I know you do,” Felipe said. He flashed Caleb a wink and playfully rubbed a hand across Caleb’s sculpted abs before quickly shifting back into nerd mode.

“As I said, imagine clay. It’s hard when you get it. You have to play with it a bit before it gets soft,” Felipe said.

“I know the feeling,” Caleb replied.

Felipe rolled his eyes and threw a nearby washcloth in Caleb’s face. “Focus, children…” he chided in a playful, sing-song voice, but despite his protests, he was stifling a laugh.

“So, the clay…” Caleb replied.

“Right. The more you warm it up, the easier it is to sculpt. So, each dose, your body got a bit more pliable… at least that’s what I thought at first,” Felipe explained.

“So, that’s not what happens?” Caleb asked.

“If that were true, my dick shouldn’t have grown last time. So, maybe there’s something that stays in the body and just lies dormant until reactivated,” Felipe said.

  “You’re trying to figure out what is getting reactivated?” Caleb asked.

“I’m less worried about that and more curious about what is causing the dormant stuff to reawaken. I’ve worked with potions long enough to know what causes which effect, but I have never heard of old effects getting restarted,” Felipe said.

“Did you talk to Mr. Yen about this?” Caleb asked.

“Yeah. I mean… I didn’t tell him about you, but I mentioned how my dick grew when I used the height potion last. He’d never heard of this happening either,” Felipe explained.

“How’s he doing, anyway?” Caleb asked.

“He’s enjoying his retirement. He stops by every few weeks to check on the shop, but he seems pleased with how I’m running things,” Felipe explained.

“It’s weird to think of him retiring. He was old as balls when you met him, right? I just figured a dude like that doesn’t age,” Caleb said.

“Like most things, age for him is malleable. When I say “retiring” I mean he’s changing personas. He’s got enough of a nest egg to take it easy for at least a decade even with the godawful inflation, and a young, hot body so that he can actually enjoy having time and money in his old age,” Felipe said.

“Man, I want to do that. Imagine being twenty-something and rich,” Caleb said.

“Maybe someday. I kind of want to try getting old with you before we hit the reset button, though,” Felipe replied.

“When you put it that way…” Caleb murmured and looked away to hide his blushing cheeks. Felipe clocked it instantly, though.

“I think you’ll look great with some grey,” Felipe said and ran his fingers through Caleb’s hair. 

“Wait. Does that mean you have the recipe?” Caleb asked.

“Yes,” Felipe replied, but the way he said it gave Caleb pause.

“How did you manage to say that with an asterisk?” Caleb asked.

“He gave me a copy of his old notes, but they are still mostly in… I don’t even know what language this is. It may just be his personal cypher. It will take me a while to translate it all, but it’s not my main concern right now,” Felipe explained.

“Yeah. For now, we need to cook,” Caleb replied and gestured to all the beakers.

“Speaking of which… try some of this,” Felipe said and handed Caleb a beaker.

Caleb gave the contents a sniff and said, “oooh. Smells alcoholic. I’m in.” and took a sip, but he almost instantly began gagging.

“Now I know why you’re not a bartender. What is this shit!?” Caleb whined.

“It’s called a tincture. It’s mostly water with a little sugar and alcohol boiled in. It’s a common potion base,” Felipe explained.

“So, it’s cough syrup. Why were you asking me to drink this?” Caleb asked.

“As I said, it’s the basis of a potion. The plan is to slowly add less benign and more exotic ingredients as we go and figure out which part is causing the reaction,” Felipe explained.

“Can we use an alcohol that doesn’t taste like paint thinner for it?” Caleb asked.

“That adds way too many variables, and as we add more to the mix, you shouldn’t be able to taste the base as much anyway,” Felipe replied.

“What are all these other ones?” Caleb asked.

Felipe pointed to beaker after beaker after pot of bubbling concoction and listed off each one. “Base. Thickener. Activating agent. Shrinking agent. Stabilizer. Flavoring. Coloring. And those… are just filler if I’m being honest.”

“Filler?” Caleb asked.

“Yeah. A giant cauldron’s worth of mixture only nets you a droplet or two of usable potion. That’s really all you need to get the desired effects, but people don’t want to buy a dropper’s worth. You’d be surprised how much marketing goes into this gig. People expect to buy their potions in three-to-six-ounce vials or stoppers, so the rest is just for presentation. I’ll do a bit of castor oil or some coconut milk depending on the thickness or cloudiness I’m looking for. Then I dye it red for health or blue for mental acuity. All that fun stuff,” Felipe explained.

“And here I thought you said you weren’t a snake-oil salesman,” Caleb sassed.

“I must have misheard you. It almost sounded like you were not asking me to make you smaller,” Felipe sassed back.

“I’ll be good,” Caleb muttered apologetically.

“Of course you will,” Felipe chided playfully. He once again ruffled Caleb’s hair and then handed him another bowl to sip from. “Here. Try this,” he said.

Caleb took a sip and once more grimaced. It didn’t taste as bad, but it was far from what he would call delicious.

“How long do we have to keep doing this?” Caleb asked.

“Until we figure this out. I’m basically distilling a potion one ingredient at a time and then letting you taste the in between steps,” Felipe said.

“Since this tastes bad, you owe me something that tastes good afterwards,” Caleb replied.

“Sure. What’d you have in mind?” Felipe said.

“How’s steak sound? We haven’t gone out in ages,” Caleb replied.

“Sure. Maybe if you shave before we go, you can order from the kids’ menu,” Felipe teased.

Caleb looked ready to tease back, but his expression went from impish to contemplative and then to understanding. “That might actually work,” he said.

“Great. It’s a date! Now, drink this,” Felipe said and handed Caleb another tester.

This process went on for hours. Felipe tried mixture after mixture and every time the result was the same – absolutely nothing. Eventually, they had tried everything except the shrinking agent and the activation agent.

“Ok. Now try this. Don’t drink too much because this is where things could get weird,” Felipe explained.

Caleb nodded and took a small sip from the bowl. They waited for a moment, but it soon became apparent that nothing would happen. Felipe then handed Caleb a different bowl to try. Caleb took a sip, but the result was the same – nothing.

“That was both the shrinking and the activation agent. We’ve tried everything shy of giving you a fully prepared potion, but given how volatile the shrinkage from that would be, I don’t think that’s a good idea… Although… the fact that you didn’t shrink at all is weird. I did the catalyst last because I figured that would make something happen. Apparently, the cumulative effect is completely separate. There must be a second catalyst…” Felipe muttered.

“Does this mean we won’t be going out tonight?” Caleb asked.

“No. We’ll still do that. I just need to go back to the drawing board… And I should probably clean up in here beforehand. Grab a snack while I clean up. This will take a while,” Felipe said.

“Is any of this stuff edible?” Caleb asked, gesturing towards a few jars of unused materials.

“Not really. None of it will hurt you, but that’s the filler I was talking about. Some generic herbs and roots and different kinds of oils and plant milk,” Felipe said.

Caleb reached into one of the jars and pulled out a thin root that looked a lot like ginger but a strange shade of grey. “How about this? This smells good,” Caleb said, but he didn’t wait for an answer. No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the root went in.

“Don’t…” Felipe began, but he could see that Caleb was already chewing. Felipe let out a sigh and shook his head but made no real effort to intervene.

Caleb chewed on the root for a moment. His nose scrunched up a bit like he tasted something bad, but he kept chewing. It wasn’t terrible… but it wasn’t good either. It had a faint earthy taste kind of like a radish but with hints of sawdust and cardboard.

“It’s fine. You can spit it out,” Felipe said.

Caleb was about to, but he changed his mind. It was silly, but he felt the need to save face. He had done something dumb, but it was better to take his licks than admit it. Caleb swallowed audibly and shuddered slightly as he did so. He then flashed his best, cheekiest grin and said, “needs salt.”

“Cute,” Felipe said and rolled his eyes.

“It’s actually not bad once you get past the initial flavor. Nice aftertaste,” Caleb said.

“You think? Maybe I can try it in a stew sometime,” Felipe said.

“What is it anyway?” Caleb asked.

“Some new age bullshit. Nornroot is what they are selling it as. The crystal bloggers are nuts over it. They say it aligns your chakras and all that,” Felipe said.

“Does it?” Caleb asked.

“Fuck no. Someone found it on a walkabout in the tundra and decided just because it’s hard to get to it has to be special. They brought some back, propagated it, and it’s now being added to herbal remedies everywhere,” Felipe explained.

“Neat. So why do you have it if you hate it so much?” Caleb asked.

“I don’t hate it, but I don’t think it deserves its reputation. I just sprinkle a bit in my ‘premium’ potions and then charge a markup. As I said, the new age retro hippies love it,” Felipe said.

“Cool. Well, I’m famished so let’s get cleaned up so we can go get dinner,” Caleb said.

“Sure. Try not to snack too much while I finish up here,” Felipe said.

“As if I’d leave you to handle it all by yourself,” Caleb said.

“As if you could reach the counters to help,” Felipe teased.

“I’m not that short!” Caleb sassed back. However, there was an unspoken “yet” in there that both boyfriends seemed to pick up on.

Felipe rolled his eyes and set to work cleaning out the used beakers and pots. Meanwhile, Caleb slipped the last bit of the root he had been nibbling on into his mouth and hopped down from the countertop.

Felipe looked up from his cleaning when he heard a crash and a “Fuck!” from around the corner. Felipe peered over the counter to check on his boyfriend and saw Caleb picking himself up off the ground.

“Babe…? You good?” Felip asked.

“Yeah. I just misjudged the distance,” Caleb said and then let out a little cough and grumbled, “That last bit almost went down the wrong pipe…”

Seeing that Caleb was fine, Felipe let out a sigh of relief and went back to cleaning up, but there was a silence that steadily grew more awkward by the moment. Finally, Caleb was the one to speak up.

“Hey, babe… have you ever used this root in potions you’ve given me?” Caleb asked.

“Yeah. Don’t laugh, but put it in my ‘premium’ potions, and I wanted the stuff I give you to be special. Wait, why do you ask?” Felipe said.

“… I can’t see over the counter,” Caleb replied.

“What!?” Felipe yelped. He quickly rushed around the corner and stared down at his shrunken boyfriend. Felipe’s formerly loose hand-me-downs now were now hanging off of Caleb’s dwindling frame. Mere moments ago, Caleb was only a foot shorter than his boyfriend. Caleb’s was about chest level with Felipe. Now, however, he barely came up to Felipe’s midriff and was still visibly shrinking.

“How small do you think I’m going to get?” Caleb asked, trying and failing to hide the excitement in his voice.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if the extra shrinking agent you drank earlier will have an impact nor do I know how much of the root you ate,” Felipe said.

Caleb nodded and stared down at his body in awe. He was wearing Felipe’s old tunic like a toga. The shirt was hanging off of his dwindling frame and only barely managing to hang off of his shoulder.

Caleb glanced back up at his boyfriend. His jaw dropped at what he saw. He now stood eye level with Felipe’s crotch. Caleb’s already chubbing cock gave a lurch of delight as a thought flashed through his brain. Felipe’s cock had to be massive at this size!

Felipe stared down at his dwindling partner and ran the numbers in his head. “This is slower than before. I don’t think this is the normal potion effect, so I don’t think we’ll see a rebound effect,” Felipe said.

“What’s that mean?” Caleb asked. He stared up and up at his towering boyfriend. The top of his head now only came up to Felipe’s mid-thigh.

“I think you’ll reach a size and stop,” Felipe said.

So whatever size he reached, that would be his new permanent size!? Caleb was simultaneously freaked out and bricked up. This was what he wanted, but he didn’t like not knowing how small he’d get. Would he stop at Barbie sized? Action figure sized? Maybe he’d dwindle down to the size of a green army man! Maybe he’d keep shrinking until he was a spec of dust to a spec of dust!

The shirt reached a point where it was just too heavy and awkward to keep up. Caleb let the enormous garment slide off his shoulder and pool in a pile around his ankles. His rock hard, pre-drooling cock was openly on display. Caleb was now as naked as the day he was born and not much taller. He was now so short that he only came up to Felipe’s knees.

Caleb stared down at the gigantic clothes that now clumped around his ankles. He had just shrunk out of these clothes, but if he didn’t stop, he’d soon shrink back into them. 

Caleb glanced back up at his boyfriend. Felipe now towered over him like a titan. Caleb had definitely shrunken even more, but not by as much as before. Caleb was now only a hair shorter than Felipe’s knees.

“Oh good. It looks like you’re stable,” Felipe said with a sigh of relief.

“Woah… how am I going to explain this to my boss…” Caleb murmured in awe.

“I don’t think I can reverse this any time soon, so for the time being, try to use your sick leave. Maybe they’ll let you work from home,” Felipe said.

“You want to reverse this!?” Caleb yelped.

“You were the one worrying about work!” Felipe protested.

“That doesn’t mean I want to grow back!” Caleb said.

Felipe gripped the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “Right… ok… we’ll figure that out later. I don’t think we’ll be getting steak for dinner tonight, though,” Felipe said.

Caleb shrugged and looked up at his towering boyfriend and said, “Take-out is fine with me.”

[First Chapter] || [Previous Chapter]

[fraterfalls]

Hi, I'm new to Blood Brothers AU and I was curious about it. Can you explain about it or show me where I can see the best explanation about it?

ohhh, dear asker, the rabbit hole i'm about to send you down... >:)

alright let me try and explain it in the most coherent way possible, it's late at night BUT i will try my best!!!

explanation under the cut!

(in general, if you're new to the bb au like this asker and trying to find your way around this overwhelming hell of an au i've concocted, i recommend you start here :D)

wow. i tried SO HARD to make this a semi-concise explanation and YET it somehow turned into a mini-fic in itself towards the end there. sighhh... (lol even still, have fun reading!)

first thing's first i need to tell you aboutttt

The Parallel World / "Better World".

in journal 3, ford mentions visiting a parallel dimension in which stan never pushed him into the portal, and instead took his journal and hid it as ford had requested.

^ some screenshots to give you the basic gist of what's going on in that dimension, everything you need to know for the time being. you can read more about it on internet archive if you like

at some point in august i reread this part of journal 3 and became obsessed with the idea of a parallel dimension. i also noticed that apart from mentioning how he never pushed ford into the portal and took the journal in this world, parallel stan is just... not really brought up. at all. ...which opens up some interesting possibilities.

as you can probably guess, this dimension features in the blood brothers au! in my interpretation, the reason stan was never mentioned is because after leaving with ford's journal, he never came back, just seemingly disappeared off the planet. parallel ford... has not been handling this well (and a certain bastard triangle only serves to play up his worst fears!), and because he has such a large student body to attend to and take care of and protect, he represses his issues, buries them under layers and layers of work and responsibilities. nobody even knows he has a brother...

not even his nephew and niece, dipper and mabel. however, they're observant as all hell. as secretive as ford is, they see past his little white lies, they see how he doesn't eat properly and falls asleep at his desk and laughs nervously when someone asks if he's alright. (i haven't talked much about the role they play in this au on tumblr, but rest assured i'll be elaborating more on it in my upcoming fic that may come out sometime within... um... the next few months to the next few decades. they're still the same old mystery twins we know and love, except now they've set their sights on figuring out what their grunkle ford is hiding. very Not What He Seems reminiscent)

alright, now that i've mostly covered the parallel world, time to move on to:

The Portal Stan AU

while i was obsessing over the Better World, a parallel dimension/"alternate universe" which already exists in canon, i started thinking about another AU which is fairly popular in the gravity falls fandom: the portal stan AU. in which stan, rather than ford, gets sent into the portal. thought it was a fantastic concept ever since i first saw it, because it opens so many doors for interesting characterization and also some good ol' angst (and later a healing arc, of course). portal stan has, after all, spent 40 or so years without a solid family base or anyone to care for him. and i can imagine that in those 30 years he spent dimension-hopping, his only thought was to return to his home dimension and see ford again. yes, he was furious and frustrated when they had that last argument, but surely in hindsight he saw how paranoid and jittery ford had been throughout their meeting. he would want to get back and make sure his brother was safe as soon as possible.

and then i had the thought which kicked off this entire au:

what if portal stan fucked up and somehow stumbled upon the parallel dimension while searching for a way home? what if portal stan and parallel ford... MET?

portal stan sees parallel ford and his situation and comes to the conclusion that, without him in the way, ford would flourish. parallel ford sees portal stan and comes to the conclusion that no matter the universe, he somehow manages to destroy stan's life just by being in it. even just knowing that the other exists exacerbates their own insecurities. IT'S SO AWFUL AND SO PERFECT.

also, portal stan couldn't be more desperate to get out of the parallel dimension- partly because he hates the reminder that ford would be better off without him, but mostly because he wants to see his real brother again. however, parallel ford has other plans for him. he's been in denial about the true fate of his own brother for a long time now, but he sees this version of stan and decides he can't afford to let go of him. (his own mental state is too fragile to accept the idea of losing stan again, even if this isn't his own stan. he already let go of him once after the WCT fiasco, and again after the journal incident. thrice is... thrice is too much.)

you may also be thinking "hey, smart guy, i actually DID read that screenshot you posted above while explaining the parallel dimension. it said parallel ford and fiddleford constructed a little something called a Vortex Neutralizer which allows for safe, bill-free multiversal travel. couldn't portal stan just use that to get out of there?"

yeaaah, parallel ford doesn't tell him about that!

he will do almost anything to keep stan with him. he is sinking his claws into that man begging him not to leave-

and stan hates him for it. tears into him with insult after insult. he can't stand this ford, why's he acting like he doesn't have everything he could ever want? (except, of course, he doesn't really hate him. after all, this is still stanford pines, maybe not his ford but he's certainly a ford. same old easily excitable nerd he used to tease back in high school. but stan still has his own ford to attend to, one who needs him more than anything... probably... hopefully, so he shuts out the part of him which is growing fond of parallel ford. tells himself not to think too much about this one. he hardly even knows him. he shouldn't have to bother.)

-

and yeah that's. i think that's enough information to take in in a single post. there's still plenty more going on with the au that i haven't touched on here, but hey that's just the premise! i would link you to more specific posts which will help you further acquaint yourself with the au, but it's. it's 2am and i am incredibly sleepy, so instead i will simply provide you with the link to the blog archive, where you can look at all the posts on here without having to scroll endlessly trying to find specific things. enjoy!!!

if you have any more questions DON'T BE AFRAID TO COME BOTHER ME ABOUT IT !!! i loved answering this ask... <3 been meaning to rewrite a better AU Premise Post than the one i made back in august anyway lol

[illusioninfnty]

Outlast: Chapter Eight (Sam Giddings x Reader)

Animus

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2.5K

3:26

You bust into the room, Sam and Mike right on your heels. Just as you do, a scene of chaos folds out in front of you. Ashley and Chris are strapped into two chairs, opposite each other. A man in a skull-like mask stands across from them, who you could only assume is this Psycho that had hurt Sam and killed Josh.

Chris holds up a gun at the Psycho, firing rapidly. Nothing happens. Before you even have time to react, the Psycho speaks up.

“Oh Chris...Oh, Chris, Chris, Chris, Chris.”

“What the fuck…” you and Chris mutter in unison.

The Psycho reaches up to remove his mask. “Oh you've heard of blanks before. I mean really?”

When he reveals his face, you're sure that your heart stops in your chest for a second. You can hear Sam gasp behind you.

And in front of you stands Josh, smiling proudly.

“Josh?” Chris asks.

“Josh!” Sam gasps.

“Josh,” Mike mutters.

“What the actual fuck.” You rub your temples, barely able to comprehend the situation in front of you. You really wish you had some alcohol on you right now.

As Josh starts his whole spiel, you run over to untie your friends. As you get Ashley, Mike moves to free Chris.

“How does it feel? Do you enjoy feeling terrorized? Humiliated? I mean, panicked? All those emotions that my sisters got to feel once one year ago! Only guess what? They didn't get to laugh it off! No! Nope! No no no! They're gone!”

Josh’s voice is shaky and his eyes are unfocused as he rambles on. You can’t help but pity your friend, who had been more tormented than you could’ve ever imagined by the overwhelming guilt over Hannah and Beth’s disappearances.

As Josh examples his pranks, going more and more into the specific details he concocted, you can’t help but be wary at Mike’s increasing anger.

“I don't know if you noticed this, Josh, but none of us are laughing.” He bites out his words, tone rigid.

Dread washes over you as you realize exactly what’s making Mike angrier than he should be. He thinks Josh had something to do with Jessica’s death.

Fuck. Double fuck. You mentally punch yourself, allowing the miscommunication about the truth of the Blackwood Mountain to get this far. You need to explain to your friends the truth, and quickly, before more get hurt.

“Why are you doing this, Josh?” Sam asks, voice barely above a whisper. But her question still rings out in the barren room.

“He’s out of his fucking mind over here. Don’t even bother fucking asking the looney,” Mike quips.

“He’s sick,” Chris says, pity dripping off his words. His attempt to diffuse the situation is a miss. Mike is still fuming, and you can practically see steam leaving his body.

“Mike, calm down.” The words leave your lips before you can even stop them.

He whirls around to face you, and you immediately know you’re going to be bearing the brunt of the anger. You’ll gladly take it if it means Josh won’t be falsely blamed for acts he didn’t commit.

He storms over to you, chest to chest as he glares up at you. “He fucking killed her.” His words are laced with grief as he fists the front of your shirt.

“No he didn’t,” you throw back, exasperated. “It wouldn’t make any fucking sense. Think logically about this, Mike.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “You of all people shouldn’t say shit like that. Keeping all these fucking secrets. Were you in on this? Is that why you’re not saying shit?” 

You don’t even try to entertain his words as his voice gradually becomes louder, more intense, and you can hear Sam trying to break the two of you up. Her arm wraps around your bicep and she tugs you back, away from Mike.

Josh barks out a laugh behind you, causing you all focus your attention back on him.

“This is all just perfect. Come on, you guys are all going to thank me when you guys become internet sensations!”

You raise an eyebrow as Chris is the one to speak up. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh you better believe this little puppy is going viral ladies and germs. I mean we got unrequited love. We got fights. We got...we got blood! I don't think there's enough hard drives in China to count all the views we're gonna get, you guys.”

“Jesus Christ,” your hand runs over your face as you take in everything Josh says.

But of course, Mike isn’t too pleased with his response.

“What the fuck are you talking about, you fucking ass hat? Jessica is fucking dead!”

Josh blinks, looking stunned at the news. “What?”

“Jessica is fucking dead, and you are going to pay, you dick!”

“Damn it Mike, stop it!” Your words are no use, and you can’t stop Mike in enough time as he strides up to Josh and with the gun he took from Chris, hits him across the face and knocks him out cold.

Sam and Ashley gasp as Josh falls to the floor. You immediately approach Mike, snatching the gun from his hand and throwing it across the floor.

“What the hell was that, man? I told you to think before you fucking do something you’ll regret!” You poke a finger in his chest, hoping to at least intimidate him a little bit. But you’ve had heated arguments before with him, and he doesn’t ever back down.

“I don’t fucking regret it.” His tone is affirmative. It worries you that you may not be able to change his mind about it. That you’re too late, and none of your friends will trust you

You kiss your teeth. “Whatever. It’s already done.” You glance down at Josh, who looks weak and sickly all crumpled on the floor. “Someone help me move him upright.”

“No!” Ashley protests. “He’s crazy. He had us fucking chained up, and, and, chased us all around. He’s a psycho!” She hides behind Chris, who wraps an arm around her shaking body.

You can’t help how conflicted you feel about the current predicament happening. You sympathize with all of your friends and their fears. Josh went too far; you weren’t going to deny that. But he was sick. He needed help. And antagonizing him only made it worse. Besides, none of them understand the severity of your situation—only you do. But there’s no use in arguing with them all now, when they’re scared and confused.

You throw your hands up in defeat. “Okay, does anyone have any other ideas?”

Mike steps forward with a look of contempt. “I say we tie him up in the shed.”

“What? That’s insane!” Sam beats you to it, echoing the same words you were just thinking. “We just do that here! There’s no reason to leave him outside.”

Chris and Ashley share a look that has you dropping your head in your hands. “Mike’s right,” Chris says.

Ashley nods. “It’s safer that way.”

Mike glances at you, triumph shining in his eyes. “Three to two. You’re outnumbered.”

Your jaw clenches. “You’re making a mistake, Mike.”

He doesn’t respond.

You sigh. You know you’re not getting anything else out of him. Mike was stubborn as hell, even more so than you at times. “Fine. If you’re going to do this, then I’m going with you.”

They all look surprised at your offer, turning to you with a variety of quizzical looks plastered across their faces.

“Tex,” Sam’s tone is warning, as if to tell you that it’s a bad idea.

Mike scoffs. “No fucking way. You’re gonna pull some shit on us out there.”

“Look, I’m compromising, okay?” You throw your hands up in mock surrender. “You can tie him up or do whatever the fuck you want. I don’t give a shit. I just wanna be there when you guys do it.”

Chris pipes up before Mike can get another word in. “That’ll work. It’ll be better to have an extra set of hands in case Josh tries something.”

Mike eyes you down, as if trying to catch you in a lie. You keep your face still. “Fine,” he finally bites out, “let’s get to it. Before he starts waking up.”

3:41

“Guys! Guys come on... seriously, this is crazy, you know?”

“Shut up.”

You trail behind Mike and Chris as they guide Josh to the shed, not bothering to help him up when he stumbles into the snowy ground.

“Give it a rest you two,” you mumble as they continue to let out all their frustration on him. “Can’t you see how out of it he is?”

Chris sighs in response. Mike completely ignores you. Again.

“Where are we going?” Josh looks all around him, once again tripping on the unstable ground. “Where are you guys taking me?”

Mike shoves him along. “Locking you up, bro.”

Josh’s eyes shift around frantically until they land on you. “You’re gonna let them do this?”

Mike scoffs. “She’s not letting—”

You interrupt Mike before he goes on another tirade. “I can’t outnumber them, bud.” You shake your head apologetically, wishing you could do more. “The best I can do is make sure they don’t try anything stupid.”

Josh’s body falls slack, as if he’s given up. You bite your lower lip as you stare at him in pity, taking in his gaunt and sickly features. You mentally kick yourself for not noticing them earlier.

Your head throbs from alcohol withdrawal and you pat your coat pocket, before holding back a sigh as your hands come up empty. Your flask was probably left somewhere back at the lodge, amongst all the chaos when you reunited with your friends.

You ignore the aching feeling that persists as you trudge along with the guys.

When you finally arrive at the cabin, Mike practically throws Josh inside. It’s barren, old and broken pieces strewn about. Mike ends up tying Josh to one of the pillars that looks like it's one more snowstorm away from breaking, pushing him roughly and taunting him as he does so.

“Stop it,” you bite out through gritted teeth, your frustration reaching its peak. You grasp his bicep, pulling him back. “Chris.” You jerk your head towards Josh, indicating he should take over instead. He quickly gets the hint and takes the ropes from Mike.

Mike tries to pull away from you, but your grip remains firm as you drag him to the corner of the cabin. “Look,” you use your free hand to rub your temples, practically feeling the stress lines on your face from how much this night has been taking a toll on you already. “He’s off his meds. Has been for a while. Cut him some slack, alright?”

He’s practically unresponsive to your plea. “He killed—!”

“Mike.”

He pauses, chest heaving.

You continue. “I told you I would explain everything. I will. Josh didn’t do that. I need you to trust me. Please.”

You can tell by the way Mike’s brow creases that he still feels uneasy about all of this. You’re hoping that Mike still has some kind of faith in you, even just a crumb. You don’t blame him too much; you know that the way you’ve been acting has seemed suspicious lately. But your circumstances are really strange ones, and it’d be hard for anyone to believe it without seeing it.

Before you can gauge Mike’s response, your conversation is interrupted by Josh’s teasing words.

“Oh and Chris? Man, you can forget about ever gettin' into Ashley's little panties after that little cock up with the whole ‘I'm gonna shoot you in the head, thing.’ She's better off with Mike over here anyways... At least he knows how to treat a lady…”

“Fuck you, man!”

“Hey, hey!” You rush over just as Chris grabs a stray wooden board, lifting it up over his head as if he was about to hit him. “Knock it off. We can’t be causing any more problems.”

Josh’s eyes narrow as they land on you. “Drunk as a skunk, drunk as a skunk! Couldn’t solve your problems, couldn’t save my sisters!”

Guilt floods through your chest as memories of that night flash in your mind again. Your tongue feels too big for your mouth, and the faint tastes of alcohol that remain make you want to clean your mouth out with soap.

“Back off.”

Mike steps up to Josh, pushing you back slightly. “Leave her alone, dude. You should be fucking thank her for trying to help your sorry ass.”

A breath of relief leaves you as you mentally thank Mike for stepping in. Josh eventually quiets down with a huff and a glare, and once you can tell he won’t be antagonizing anyone further, your friends turn to leave.

You follow them outside the cabin, but stop before you can make it more than a couple of feet away from the doors.

“You two should go on without me.”

Chris and Mike turn back to stare at you. “Listen,” you continue, “you two need to leave and cool off some steam. I’ll stay here, watch over him. Maybe I can talk some sense into him.”

Chris furrows his eyebrows as Mike crosses his arms.

“No fucking way am I leaving you with this lunatic,” Mike grunts.

“Well that’s not your fucking choice, is it?” You raise an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms to mirror his stance. “I can handle myself. And him, if necessary.”

He huffs in annoyance, but you can tell that he can’t argue with you on that.

Chris nods in reluctance, nudging Mike’s shoulder. “I’ll make sure to tell Sam you’re safe.”

“Thank you,” you say breathily in appreciation. “I’ll be back before you know it. Don’t miss me too much.”

A hint of a laugh leaves Chris’ lips as the two reluctantly head back towards the lodge.

As soon as they leave your sight, mere specks in the crisp white snow, you begin to move in untying Josh from his constraints.

“Whoa, whoa—”

“Listen to me.” Your voice is cold, and Josh is able to hold your gaze, recognizing the seriousness. “You need to run. Get as far away as you can. Got it?”

He nods, throwing his head back against the pillar. “I’m sorry, I’m real sorry…” Josh trails off, a distant look taking over his face as you deftly loosen the ropes around his limbs.

The dull gleam in Josh’s eyes has your heart clenching in your chest. He looks so lost, so broken. You wish you were able to see just how hurt he had been this past year. You feel guilty that you, or any of your friends for that matter, weren’t able to catch just how much he’d been suffering with the loss of Hannah and Beth.

If you weren’t untying his restraints, ear right by his lips, you don’t think you would have heard his next words.

“You weren’t supposed to be there…”

You think back to his adamance on getting you out of the cabin, and somehow, your heart breaks just a little more.

Character Traits: 

Honest: 4/10 

Charitable: 9/10 

Funny: 4/10  

Brave: 9/10 ↓

Romantic: 7/10 

Curious: 5/10 

Relationship Status:

Ashley: 6/10

Chris: 7/10 ↓

Emily: 5/10  

Jess: 3/10 

Josh: 7/10 ↓

Matt: 7/10 

Mike: 6/10 ↑

Sam: 10/10

Chapter Seven || Chapter Nine

[voxmyriad]

Cal Kestis Week 2024 Day Three: Just This Once

Prompt: Alone | “I don’t know anymore.” | Hope is a Skill | Droid

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Characters: Cal Kestis, Moran the Mirialan (Star Wars), M-6NK | Monk (Star Wars)

Additional Tags: Drinking away your problems or just drinking your problems, Heart-to-Heart, Not exactly a shoulder to cry on, More a shoulder to vent next to, Alcohol

Most of the time, Moran was perfectly content to hold down his end of the bar as it grew increasingly blurry throughout the day. Well, content might not be the correct word. Resigned, perhaps. Things on this sleepy world had grown a bit more exciting since the redhead had shown up, that was true. Pyloon's could almost be called crowded now, and most of the new company wasn't terrible. More tolerable to speak with than Turgle, certainly, or Caij. He could even say the addition of Ashe and their droid was welcome, though most of their music wasn't his taste. Still, it was an echo of Coruscant. Of better times.

As was Cal himself. He tended to sweep through, pausing for conversation with the various prospectors and other denizens, Moran included, but he never stayed long. Imagine Moran's surprise when, after a lengthy absence, Cal was suddenly present on the stool beside him, glowering at the scuffed and stained bar.

"Hiya, sport, welcome back." Monk swiveled his way over, leaning casually on the bar as though he didn't operate on a track below it. "What can I do for ya?"

"I don't know," Cal muttered, and glanced at Moran's half-empty glass. "I'll take one of those."

"Do not bring him one of these. The contents of this glass could likely be used to clean that ship of yours." Moran's unofficial policy of staying uninvolved was one thing, but he couldn't let Cal burn his throat. Just this once, he told himself firmly, before adding, "He'll have a Scarif Sunrise. Put it on my tab."

"Coming right up." In a trice, in a flurry of activity, Monk mixed up the purple-red-orange concoction, placed the glass in front of Cal, topped up Moran's drink with another hand, and swept off again. Droid bartenders were efficient in an entirely different way than most organics.

Cal peered at the drink, sipped it cautiously, and, while it wasn't a smile, some of that enigmatic tension seemed to leave his expression. "Thanks. It's good."

"Yes, I know. Occasionally I'm in the mood for one, and Monk makes for a surprisingly capable bartender."

"Surprisingly?"

"Mm. Most droid bartenders are very methodical in their drink-making, but the best bartenders add their own flair to the recipes." Moran took another drink of his own paint solvent, or whatever it was, and waited to see if Cal had anything to add about why he might be sitting here for the first time instead of passing through as usual.

The levels in their glasses lowered inside that silence, until only a thin line of purple remained in Cal's. It took a second round of emptying glasses before Cal finally spoke, seemingly talking to the dregs of his drink. "Did you ever lose anyone while they were still around?"

Ah. So that was what was bothering him. Moran tapped the bar. "Another round?" Monk asked as he swung back, his lower limbs polishing a glass.

"Not this time. Pantoran cider. Two." Stronger than the Sunrise and with a little burn, it was better suited to that kind of conversation. He waited until the glasses appeared, fizzing gently. "All the time," he said after the first swallow. "Is this loss a friend, or someone deeper?"

"I don't know anymore," Cal said again, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. The two drinks had loosened up the rest of that tension, but now he just slumped over the glass like...well, like Moran at the end of a long day of nothingness. "I just..." He glanced around, but between Dee-Dee's music and the level of conversation, no one could overhear them. "I found my friends. The people I used to fly with. They're all..." His fingers went tight on the glass to the point of concern. "They're all together. Someone I thought was dead, someone important to me but that I figured I'd never meet—he's there. He's with them, they know him really well, they've been working with him—they're sharing tea recipes—and no one told me."

For the first time, the little droid on Cal's back beeped, a sad little sound. Startled, Moran straightened in his seat, looking at it, but he'd never mastered understanding binary. He'd never needed to. Dreyo had taken care of that.

"I take it you're both disappointed by this?" he ventured.

"Yeah. BD was his droid before. He thought his old master was gone too." Cal's smile came back just a bit, then, as he added, "It was really nice, watching them get reunited."

Affection for droids was also something Moran had never mastered, but that didn't matter now. Cal had clearly managed it, and so had this former master who had been important to the both of them—whomever he might be. Moran couldn't help noticing that, even in his rather inebriated state, Cal was careful not to mention any names, any locations. The latent smuggler in him approved. There was no point in keeping secrets if a little alcoholic lubrication was all that was needed to bring them bursting out.

"I'm sure they missed you too," he said, feeling that was an inadequate answer, but not entirely sure what else to say.

Not that, apparently, as Cal's expression fell into something more neutral and he took a long pull at his cider. "They seemed fine," he said, clipped.

"Well? So do you. At least you did, until you decided to join me."

That got Cal's rather wavering attention. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I see you stride through here every day, usually in a rush, going somewhere to do something"—idiotic and heroic—"helpful for someone, and not once have you actually stopped moving until now."

"I can't stop moving."

"No one is asking you to."

"Maybe you're not."

"I don't think anyone wants you to—except the Raiders, or the Empire, perhaps."

"Yeah, is that what you think?"

Moran rolled his eyes and shifted his seat to face Cal instead. "Do you want to argue or do you want to talk about what's really on your mind? If not, I would just as soon go back to the silence, such as it is."

Cal's mouth opened for a sharp retort, but he closed it again. Something must have gotten through. He was actually thinking before speaking. "…I'm alone," he finally said, so quiet Moran nearly missed it. "I have BD, but…I lost my master. My life. I lost Prauf. I lost everyone else. Every time I go out there, I feel alone. Even on J—"

Moran cleared his throat pointedly. Now now, Cal was doing so well at not letting any details slip.

Message received. Cal began again. "...on…where I was…when my friend would come out into the desert with me…I don't know. It was different. She was different."

"This would be a she who is someone deeper?" Moran asked, more gently this time. The cider must be affecting him or he wouldn't be this soft, he thought.

"No," Cal said, but no one would be fooled by that uncertain tone. "Maybe. Or…I thought? But maybe not. …I don't know anymore."

Moran sat back, examining the fish tank behind the bar. Skoova swam past, polishing industriously. The little Sakavian was a decent conversationalist, if he wanted to converse about fish. "So, these friends of yours. You traveled together, you valiantly battled the Empire together, and then they departed and you remained."

"That's right." Cal's fingers flexed around the glass again. "They said they all had their reasons for leaving."

"I'm sure they did. And you had yours for staying. Bad luck that none of your reasons matched."

"Yeah."

The silence fell between them again, but not uncomfortably so. Moran wasn't in the habit of offering empty platitudes, and he didn't think Cal would take kindly to them anyway. Besides, whenever Moran had lost people and still needed to see them, he'd just shuttered that part of his heart and moved on. At least, he'd always told himself that was all he needed to do. He wasn't at all sure it had been the right thing to do, now that his life was spent on this stool, watching the patrons of this cantina coming and going, while doing nothing himself but…waiting.

Maudlin thoughts for a maudlin mood.

After their glasses emptied again, Cal stood and nearly knocked into Moran. He sighed and got up. "Just this once," he muttered. The cider was definitely making him soft.

On their way to the basement, Moran fetched a pair of effective painkillers from his own stash, then took hold of Cal's shoulder again, keeping him level as they walked past the kitchen and down the stairs. "Take these," he said, pressing them into Cal's hand, "with a full bottle of water before you sleep. For the pain."

"What pain?" Cal asked, ridiculously young-looking with his hair sticking up and his fair skin flushed bright red from the alcohol.

"With luck, you won't find out." He sighed, fighting the urge to try and straighten those tufts of copper hair. Honestly, who had allowed someone like this to run around trying to topple the Empire alone? Their reasons must have been very pressing. "Perhaps tomorrow you'll be able to practice at hope again. Especially if you take those tonight and drink enough water."

"Practice at—what?"

"At hope, Cal. It's a skill, you know, just as much as anything you might do with that." Moran pointed to Cal's lightsaber, always on his hip. It had been one of the first things Moran had spotted, and he knew he wasn't the only one. "All right, go. Take those. And don't expect this kind of treatment often," he added firmly. "Just this once, remember."

Moran didn't stay around to find out if Cal followed his instructions, or even made it to his bunk. They weren't friends. Moran didn't make friends anymore. All he could really offer was…being alone, together, at least for a little while. Maybe that was enough.

[eflen-n-reegee]

Caregiver Edward Magorium Headcanons (Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium)

He loves music, and he is constantly humming and making up songs for (and about) you. 🎶 “Oh, my friend is helping me in the stooore!”🎵

Mr. Magirium can invent anything you can imagine, and a fair few things you can’t. A machine that readies you for bed and then rocks you to sleep; a one-piece garment that wraps you in your ideal version of a hug; a plate designed so perfectly that no matter how you tilt it or move your fork, the peas and corn will never mix together. He loves creating new things for you, and watching your eyes light up.

Expanding on that: he gives you the greatest playroom anyone could ask for. He’s an expert at reading people, and whatever your absolute ideal playroom would be is what he provides - with, of course, plenty of magical surprises.

For as much time as he spends with children, Mr. Magorium tends to use very complex and uncommon words. If you ever get confused by one of the words he uses, he’ll pull out his pocket dictionary and show you the definition. He’s never condescending about it; he just thinks human communication is amazing and loves having the chance to share this interest with you.

He is great at helping you regress. As old as he in, Mr. Magorium can still think about things with a child’s sense of reasoning. If you’re struggling to regress, he’ll start a conversation with you about hot dogs or cats or the many uses of tape. He’ll talk about it with his particular kind of logic, and before you know it, you’ll be seeing things in a more childish way.

He loves mischief, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone. Whether you’re hiding his pens or putting whipped cream inside his shoes, he’ll always laugh about it; and the stranger the trick, the better.

Mr. Magorium folds the best paper airplanes in the world, and he’s always ready to make you one. In the evenings, when the store is closed and quiet, he’ll pull out his favorite airplane and let you chase it around.

He makes very strange combinations of foods - turnip pudding, salami waffles, chocolate-covered cheese… Most of these combinations are gross, and you’ll both spend several minutes gagging and laughing over his concoctions. Every once in a while, though, he’ll present you with something that catches you off guard; something that sounds disgusting yet turned out absolutely delicious. He’ll always take the opportunity to remind you that something can be more than what it seems.

You’re always allowed to play with Mortimer… but “playing” usually consists of watching him eat. Well, you can pet him, anyway.

Mr. Magorium starts nearly every important discussion by complimenting you. He loves you and he knows how incredible you are, and he will take every opportunity to help you see your true value.