#i want to high five his staff hand. and live

[ervona]

that's Tsabrak but who is everyone else...

#i want to high five his staff hand. and live #your wizard looks gnc af because he's tall #realms tag

[wonusite]

Crossing Boundaries

❝ Seungcheol has always demanded that all of his employees keep professional boundaries, but it frustrates him that his son’s nanny is a little too good at keeping things professional. ❞

pairing: choi seungcheol x female reader

genre: single dad au, nanny au, fluff, smut

word count: 8.6k

warnings: dilf!cheol, ceo!cheol, nanny!reader, imbalance of power, a brief mention of death, mutual pining (a copious amount of it), jealousy, seungcheol is down horrendous, daddy kink, breeding kink, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, squirting, multiple creampies, overstimulation, cockwarming

a/n: will never get over this concept. huge shout out to dilf cheol nonny for fueling my muse and helping make this happen. based off this request. minors dni!

There were three basic rules when it came to working for Choi Seungcheol:

1. Be on time.

2. Be efficient.

3. Maintain professional boundaries.

The rules were simple enough, but you quickly learned that there was nothing simple about them. Seungcheol was nothing if not a strict man. He demanded excellence, and anyone who didn’t live up to his rigorous standards ended up fired. Any person who managed to keep their job for a month could keep a job anywhere. At least, that’s what his entire staff seemed to think.

They weren’t exactly wrong. His standards were impossibly high, and he left little to no room for any error. It’s the very reason why Seungcheol had gone through five nannies before you, each worse than the last, according to him.

Because of this daunting fact, you’ve been very careful to never fall bellow his expectations. All the meticulous routines you made for yourself became like second nature within the first month, and it’s what kept your job secure for the last four years.

In all that time you had managed to follow the rules, but that didn’t mean it was easy. Especially since you came to absolutely adore the six-year-old boy that you were hired to take care of. Choi Taehyun was the cutest and most endearing kid you’d ever met. As soon as you met him, he had wedged his way into your heart and secured a permanent place for himself there.

The overt fondness you felt proved to be dangerous because from the very beginning, Seungcheol was adamant that you never overstep your duties as a nanny. It was his way of saying you’re not his mother so never try to act like you are. According to Josh (his assistant and the person who helped you get the job), your boss only acted this way because he still hadn't fully overcame his wife’s death. You could understand his pain which is why you were always careful not to do anything that could be seen as crossing the line.

But now, as you’re looking at Taehyun’s tear-filled eyes, all the professionalism you’ve had so far just seems to evaporate from your body. His bottom lip is trembling as he tries his hardest to muffle the whimpers and sobs at the edge of his throat. A concerned frown tugs your lips down when you go to gently wipe his fallen tears.

“Tae, what’s wrong?” You ask, feeling like someone is squeezing your heart painfully.

“Daddy’s not going to watch my play.”

The aforementioned play was something Taehyun and his entire class had been working on for about a month. He was extremely excited about it because he was assigned one of the main roles.

“It’s not fair.” Taehyun cries softly, clinging to your hands that were gently wiping his cheeks. “All my friends’ mommies and daddies are gonna watch.”

The discomfort in your chest grows as tears continue to spill from his eyes. All you can do is hug the little boy close to you in an effort to comfort him. He buries his wet face into your shoulder, clinging on to you like he never wants to let you go.

“I’m sorry, baby. You know your daddy would watch you if he could. I know he’s just as sad as you are that he can’t be there.” You rub gentles circles on his back, desperate to stop his tears from flowing.

Then, you say something you know your boss would definitely not approve of. “I know it’s not the same, but if you want, I can come watch you instead.”

Taehyun’s whimpers turn into soft sniffles as he pulls back to look at you. His eyes are still filled with tears, but now a hopeful look has taken over his gaze. “Really? You’ll come watch me?”

You realize that what you’re doing is literally bulldozing through the boundaries you’ve stayed within so far, but you would do just about anything for Choi Taehyun. There was no way you could let him be sad for another moment. So, you disregard the foreboding feeling in your gut and smile at the young boy.

“Of course I will.”

“Promise?” He’s looking at you with his huge doe eyes, pinky stuck out at you, wearing the most hopeful expression you’ve ever seen.

As Taehyun wraps his arms around you in joy, you contemplate whether or not it’s smart of you to let your emotions dictate your actions this way.

Meanwhile, your boss feels like he’s losing his mind.

As the CEO of a major conglomerate, he’s always been a level-headed, professional man. There isn’t a single thing that could make him lose his composure or make him get out of character.

This, however, doesn’t seem to apply whenever it involves his sweet, caring nanny.

Ever since you came into his life, things had changed drastically for him. You had unknowingly brightened his life in a way that he never thought was possible after his wife’s passing. Years hadn’t healed the pain, but for some reason your presence and actions had done what time couldn’t.

Seungcheol doesn’t realize the extent of his feelings until his personal assistant casually mentions that he was in the midst of arranging a date between you and the head of marketing, Jeon Wonwoo. A feeling that could only be described as rabid jealousy lights up in the pit of his stomach and expands up into his chest as Josh unwittingly goes on about how his subordinate is exactly your type.

“I don’t think that would be appropriate.” Seungcheol cuts in when Joshua says you agreed to go on this date after seeing a picture of Wonwoo. “When things don’t work out between them, it’ll bring tension into the office. The last thing I want is for either of them to feel uncomfortable.”

The way his boss said when and not if doesn’t go unnoticed.

Also, Seungcheol’s logic is seriously flawed. They both know it. In all the time you’ve worked as the CEO’s nanny, never once had you came to see him while he was working. You were annoyingly good at keeping boundaries and never overstepping. It never bothered him before, but now that he keeps thinking about it, it’s starting to.

Josh doesn’t comment on what’s blatantly obvious, mostly because he feels stupid for not realizing it sooner. It’s also clear that his boss is only barely coming to terms with his own feelings. Instead of rubbing salt in the wound, Josh is quick to assure Seungcheol that he won’t go forward with the setup before bringing his attention to his next schedule.

If only that would’ve helped him get his mind off of you.

Seungcheol is distracted during his meetings. These very large feelings are at the forefront of his mind, and they don’t fade in the slightest even as the day goes on. He starts to go over every time you’ve smiled at him in that sweet way you do. His heart jumps whenever he thinks back to those memories.

He can’t help but feel like an idiot for being so blind to his own feelings.

Things don’t feel the same when he goes home. When he finds you helping his son with his homework, all these feelings hit him at once. It’s almost funny how he never noticed the burning feeling in his chest. You’re so sweet and attentive and entirely focused on Taehyun that you don’t notice his presence. A tender smile takes over his face.

Briefly, Seungcheol thinks he wouldn’t mind coming home and seeing this lovely sight every day.

He only snaps out of his daydreams when you raise your head and stand up to greet him with a kind smile. “Mr. Choi. You’re back early.”

Seungcheol, he wants to say. Call me Seungcheol.

“Dad!”

He’s quickly distracted when he feels a small body collide with his legs. Seungcheol’s heart swells with affection as he bends down to pick up his son. Taehyun giggles happily as he wraps his small arms around his father’s neck.

Being so endeared by the sight of your boss hugging his son and peppering his little face with kisses isn’t anything new. It’s so cute that you can feel a goofy smile slowly form on your face. In the back of your mind, you know exactly why this overt fondness is clinging to your heart. But in this moment in time, you’re not willing to unpack the inappropriate feelings you have for your boss

Seungcheol doesn’t make it easy, though. For some reason he insists on helping you prepare dinner. He’s strangely eager, and you can’t really reject his offer to help. It’s both exciting and nerve-wracking to spend time with your sexy boss like this since he usually only talks to you about Taehyun.

You can’t take your eyes off Seungcheol as he rolls up his sleeves and puts on a spare apron. It’s unfair that he looks as good as he does, and you can barely keep your calm when he starts to wash the vegetables you bought in the morning. His actions feel so domestic and so sweet that you have to try your hardest to act like you’re not enjoying it as much as you are.

“I hope Taehyun didn’t wear you out too much.” Your boss says as you start to chop the freshly washed vegetables. “He’s had a lot of energy lately.”

“That’s normal for boys his age.” You say kindly. “And Taehyun’s very well-behaved, especially compared to kids his own age. You’ve raised him well, Mr. Choi.”

Seungcheol beams at the compliment, embracing the fluttering he feels in his torso and chest. Briefly, he thinks that you don’t give yourself enough credit. After all, you’ve helped raise his son more than anyone.

“In that case, I hope you can join us for dinner.”

His invitation shouldn’t make you feel the way it does. You swallow thickly, chopping movements slowing as you contemplate your answer. It’s not like you’ve never had dinner with the a father-son duo, but it was always on the insistence of Taehyun. But now that Seungcheol was the one asking, you didn’t know what to do.

Up until now, you had been very careful to not overstep the boundaries your boss had set in place by your boss, and you couldn’t understand why the same man who hated when people didn’t remain professional and respect his boundaries was asking you to do just that. Given that your big fat crush is extremely hard to hide, you’re sure that putting some distance between you two is the right thing to do.

But with the way Seungcheol’s shining eyes are imploringly staring at you, it’s hard to think of a reason to reject his invitation.

“Mr. Choi.” You say nervously as you two begin to set up the dinner table. “I... I have something to tell you.”

His gaze is intent, and you try to remain as calm as possible. “Since you won’t be able to attend Taehyun’s play, I’m going to watch him instead.”

“You?”

Your boss’s expression is unreadable, and you can’t tell what he’s thinking. Still, you soldier on and try to pretend you’re not as intimidated as you are.

“Yes. It’s something that’s important to me, and I hope you don’t mind me being there for him.”

If Seungcheol had any doubts about his feelings, he definitely didn’t now. To think that you would care so much about his son warms his heart and further cements what he already knew about you. He gives you a smile, heart bursting with affection. “I don’t mind at all. I’m glad you’ll be able to be there to watch my son.”

Honestly, Josh had managed to rework his schedule so he could see the play and surprise Taehyun, but surprising the both of you was good too.

Somehow, you manage to conceal the shock you feel. You didn’t think he would agree so easily, let alone be pleased with the idea. Instead of questioning it any further, you only thank the skies that he didn’t react angrily.

It’s hard to pretend that eating together doesn’t fill you with a copious amount of joy. Listening to Taehyun tell you all about how he can count higher than his best friend while you and Seungcheol praise him makes you feel like you’re part of their family. Maybe it’s wrong or even delusional, but you can’t help wanting to have this dynamic with them indefinitely.

“You’re leaving already?”

Taehyun is looking up at you with his large doe eyes, and you can’t help but break down a little on the inside at the disappointment they hold.

“I’ll be back tom—”

“Stay.” Seungcheol says, walking towards you. “I could really use your help putting this little monster to sleep.”

Ignoring the blatant domesticity of reading Taehyun a bedtime story together is near impossible. It gets even worse when your boss insists you stay until his son falls asleep. You almost feel like you’ve been dropped in an alternate universe when you’re ready to leave and your boss stops you again.

“Let me take you home.” Seungcheol says as you’re gathering your things. “Please.”

It’s not fair that he can seem so cute while saying this to you, and despite your better judgement, you say yes all while knowing that it’s not going to help you squash the onslaught of emotions in your chest.

Something was up with your boss.

You’re not sure why he was acting like he had gotten body snatched, but truthfully, you can’t say that you hate it. Having breakfast and dinner with him and Taehyun was something you loved more than you let show. This warm, mushy feeling always wrapped itself around you and clung on to you every time it happened despite it having become part of your routine.

The change is significant, and you can tell you’re not the only one who’s noticed. Josh had made a few teasing remarks, but never blatantly said what you knew he was thinking. (He was the first to know about your not-so-little crush on your boss so it wasn’t really surprising.) Of course, Taehyun had also noticed, although he was much more vocal about it.

“Dad, you always smile so big when all us eat together.”

The blush that dusts your boss’s cheeks is absolutely adorable, and you can barely keep a straight face when Seungcheol clears his throat to answer his son. “That’s because it makes me happy.”

It’s not fair that he can say something like that so casually and like it doesn’t literally make your entire heart pulse with affection. Somehow, you manage to keep all your feelings tampered down so they don’t show.

And for the most part it works. Until the day of Taehyun’s play, that is.

Seungcheol had assured you that supporting his son in his stead was definitely not crossing the line, but it was near impossible from feeling like that’s exactly what you were doing. It doesn’t help that you feel so out of place among the parents, either. To be fair, none of them were paying you any attention. You were just too in your head.

After fighting with your inexplicable anxiousness, you decided to just silently go to the auditorium without being noticed. This plan would’ve gone well if an unfamiliar voice hadn’t loudly called out your full government name, drawing the attention of many of the gathered parents. A woman who you recognized to be the principal’s wife approaches you with a tight-lipped smile.

Mrs. Ren looks you up and down, the condescending smile on her face widening impossibly. “I didn’t realize you were going to be here.”

Her attitude didn’t surprise you since many of the other moms had commented about her being very attracted to your boss. Apparently she had staked this weird claim on him despite being married, and no one dared to go against her because of who she was. Clearly, she didn’t like that you were overstepping the duties of a typical nanny.

Not that you cared, but having so many eyes on you was unsettling.

“Why wouldn’t I be here?” You challenged, not daring to back down. “Taehyun is family, after all.”

You don’t miss the quiet gasps or the angry widening of Mrs. Ren’s eyes. Honestly, you had no idea why you blurted that out even though that’s how you really felt about the cute little boy you took care of.

“So, it’s true?” The woman behind her exclaimed in shock. “You’re really going to marry Seungcheol?”

Woah. Wait. What?

You can feel your eyes get big as this unknown woman goes on about how she knew her husband hadn’t lied to her. There was no time to fully process her words because Mrs. Ren practically had steam coming out of her ears as she sneered at you.

“You?” The principal's wife screeched. “You’re engaged to Choi Seungcheol?”

It’s almost funny how unreasonably angry you know she’s gotten, but you’re too thrown off by the entire situation to laugh. You decide to clear up this absurd claim before it can go any further.

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding—”

You cut yourself off when a strong hand is gently placed on your waist. The warmth of a muscular body pressed against your side has you looking over to see none other than your hot boss, and you have to stop yourself from flinching because he looks absolutely livid. His presence makes you feel relieved and mortified all at the same time which leaves you feeling confused. But damn, does that mean glare look attractive on him.

“I didn’t expect this reaction from you, Mrs. Ren.” His cold tone sends shivers down your spine. “Are you not happy that I’ve finally decided to settle down again?”

The entire situation feels like a bizarre dream, and you can only be sure it’s not because of the very real heat coming from Seungcheol’s hand (which is still firmly on your waist). You can barely fathom the fact that Choi Seungcheol is actually lying about being engaged to you to help you save face, and you don’t know if you’re more embarrassed or charmed at this point.

“Tha-That’s not it!” She splutters, red in the face. “I was just surprised because I didn’t know you were dating again in the first place!”

It’s a lame excuse, one that doesn’t seem to satisfy your boss. “I’m sure that was it. There’s no way you would bear any ill will toward my family, right?”

You feel like you might actually swoon at his words. To hear him refer to you as his family makes an unmistakable warmth spread through your body. Sure, he was only doing it to help you, but still. The intention alone was enough to make your heart race.

The face Mrs. Ren makes looks like she’s seconds away from bursting with anger and mortification. How she manages to answer Seungcheol calmly is beyond you. “Of course not.”

“Good.”

His hand falls from your waist and grabs your own. It takes all your willpower to not melt into a puddle of mush as he starts to guide you away from the prying eyes. You let him drag you along, mind too full of rampant thoughts to really process what just happened.

“Seungcheol!” A voice calls. “Wait!”

You both stop, turning to see the woman from before. She gives your boss a devious smirk as she stops in front of you two, seemingly pleased.

“Aren’t you two a match made in heaven.” She says, grin getting bigger with every word. “Keeping this little affair a secret. When Jeonghan told me about it, I didn’t believe it since I haven’t seen you two together, but with the way you looked swooped in like Prince Charming—”

As she trails off with a swoon, you realize that she’s Yoon Minji, wife of your boss’s lifelong friend and business associate. Your mind is so muddled that you barely catch her invite you both to dinner before leaving to go find a seat.

After she leaves, Seungcheol keeps guiding you to the auditorium without saying a word. The silence is painful, but you’re forced to endure it since you don’t know what to say. Thanking him for helping you would be a good start, but then you don’t know if you’d be able to hold yourself back from asking why the wife of his best friend thought you two were engaged to be married.

“Y/N.” Seungcheol says your name softly as you two stop just outside the doors that lead to the auditorium. “Once again, I want to thank you for coming. I know it’s going to mean a lot to Taehyun that you came to watch him.”

The way you look at him with your pretty eyes makes Seungcheol want to kiss you senseless. His heart is beating fiercely in his chest, and he wonders how he could’ve never noticed these intense feelings before. The smile you give him is blinding, and he wishes that look would remain on your face forever.

“I’m happy to be here, and I know that it’s going to mean the world to Tae that you were able to make it.”

Seungcheol swallows thickly. “Also, I’m sorry about what happened back there. I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable with what I said.”

His gaze is so tender that you feel your breath hitch. You’re heart is beating like it’s about to jump out and jump right into Seungcheol’s hands. Unsurprisingly, that’s where it feels like it’s been for the past year. You’re snapped out of your intrusive thoughts when you realize that you’re still holding hands. Neither of you make a move to let go.

“You didn’t.” You’re quick to assure him. “I’m actually really grateful that you helped me. I hope I didn’t inconvenience you.”

“Never.”

His smile is so pretty it makes you want to do unspeakable things to him, and you have to remind yourself of where you’re at and who you are. That reminder does little to squash the fire burning fiercely in your chest, though. Especially when Seungcheol guides you inside the auditorium, hand still wrapped around yours.

Seungcheol didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but when he was about to enter the kitchen, your phone was on the counter and on speaker. It was inevitable that he heard his assistant’s voice as he spoke to you. He might’ve given you the privacy you deserved had he not caught what you two were talking about.

“How have you still not found something?” Josh’s concerned voice booms through the phone. “Your lease literally ends in two weeks.”

Originally, you had planned to move into a nice apartment building not too far from your job, but that fell through when you found out the prices had gone up significantly in the last month. It’s not like you were underpaid or anything (Seungcheol was very generous and the benefits were nothing short of impressive), but living there would mean spending more than half of your check on just rent alone. And as generous as your boss was, you know you could never bring yourself to ask for a raise.

“Everything I’ve looked at is either in a sketchy neighborhood or looks like it’ll need serious repairs.” You sigh as you start wiping down the stove. “I’m starting to think I should’ve never rejected Mr. Choi’s offer of being a live-in nanny.”

“Just tell him you changed your mind.” Josh says like it wouldn’t be a big deal. “He might give you the best room in the employee house. You know the one with the balcony!”

You disregard his teasing tone and scowl. “There’s no way I’m going to backtrack now. Do you know how humiliated I’ll be when he tells me no? I’ll have to quit right then and there!”

Even though you can’t see your friend, you can easily picture him rolling his eyes. “What do you plan on doing then?”

You pout at the phone. “Can’t I just live with you and Junhui? Your place is so nice.”

“You’ll have to stay in the living room, and you won’t have anywhere to put your things.”

Seungcheol sees your shoulders slump, and he has to stop himself from walking into the kitchen and taking you into his arms. He can only watch helplessly as you sigh quietly before responding in a voice that sounds too dejected for his liking.

“Maybe I’ll just move back in with my parents.”

This might’ve made Seungcheol feel better had his assistant not cut in with the obvious flaws in your plan. “Won’t the commute be too much, though? You can’t do that every day. Not with how early and late you have to work.”

There’s a pause, and then the next words that come out of Josh’s mouth make Seungcheol feel like someone punched him in the stomach.

“Unless you’re planning on resigning.”

Your silence makes the feeling in his stomach worsen, and your response doesn’t make him feel all that better. “Well, no, but... I don’t know. Maybe I’ll have to.”

Seungcheol slowly backs away, heart thumping irregularly in his chest. The thought of you quitting and no longer being in his life is more devastating than he could’ve imagined. It torments him and leaves him feeling cold.

For the rest of the evening, he can’t get his mind off the conversation he heard or how it leaves him feeling.

Even as he lays in his bed in the middle of the night, he can’t stop thinking about it. He goes over the situation over and over in his head until he finally decides that he can’t give you up, selfish as his reasons may be. All Seungcheol has to do is make sure his son won’t have an issue with what he’s planning to do.

“Taehyun.” He says softly as he’s tucks his son into bed alone for the first time in months. “You like Y/N, don’t you?”

The way the little boy vigorously nods his head makes his heart warm. “Yeah! She’s nice and pretty and I like when she calls me Tae!”

Seungcheol swallows, feeling more nervous than ever. “Then... how would you feel about her being around more often?”

Taehyun blinks slowly, weary eyes looking at his dad questioningly. As always, his son is silently asking to explain and get to the point. It’s hard to suppress a smile when he does things that remind Seungcheol how similar they are.

“What I mean is... would you like it if Y/N came to live here with us?”

It’s a relief when his son springs up, eyes shining with unadulterated excitement. “Y/N is going to live with us?” His happiness is evident. “Really?”

Seungcheol smiles tenderly, reaching over to ruffle his hair.

“I have to ask her first, but if she says yes, then she’ll come stay with us—as long as that’s something you want.”

“I do want it!” Taehyun says, bouncing on his knees. “Then we can all live together like a family!”

Yes, Seungcheol thinks as he affectionately caresses his son’s face. Like a family.

The next morning, you’re surprised to see your boss still hasn’t left for work even when you’re ready to take Taehyun to school. It’s even more surprising when he suggests you all go together. You can’t deny the request since Taehyun is all too happy to have you both take him to school.

It’s hard to ignore the stares you’re getting as you and Seungcheol walk Taehyun into the school. He’s holding both your hands, happily swinging them and talking animatedly. Funnily enough, the young boy manages to make the nerves you feel disappear with his infectious smile. You can easily disregard the gawking and whispers after seeing how happy your boss’s son is.

Seungcheol also doesn’t seem to mind the attention you two are attracting. He acts like his impassive self even as he’s driving you back to the mansion. The entire time he’s really just thinking of the best way to ask you to live with him and his son. Even though he knows you most likely won't say no, he still feels nervous.

“Y/N.” He says as he pulls into his long driveway. “Before you go, I have a request.”

You feel nervous, but manage to plaster a smile on your face. “Yes, sir?”

Seungcheol feels as if his heart jumped up into his throat. “Well, you see... my schedule is going to change drastically these next few months. I’m going to be working earlier and coming home much later. There are also be times where I’ll have to leave the city for business for extended periods of time.”

You’re not saying anything, and he knows he has to get to the point quickly.

“I was going to request that you come live with Taehyun and I during this time. It’ll be more convenient for everyone this way. I hope you’ll consider it.”

At this moment, your boss looks so earnest that you aren’t sure how to adequately express the influx of emotions you’re suddenly feeling. It all feels like a dream to you that you begin to wonder if his words are actually real. Either way, the warmth seeping into your bones pushes you to give the handsome man in front of you an answer.

“Yes, of course I will.”

Every time you wake up and find yourself in a luxurious room, you feel like you’ve been dropped in the middle of a blissful dream. Weeks have gone by, but it still feels unreal. Unlike your expectations, your boss moved you into the main house and gave you the room right across from his. It was hard to not let your fantasizing mind wander despite knowing he had done it out of convenience and nothing else.

Your life continues to be stuck in a routine until Taehyun goes to visit his grandparents. It’s strange without him around, and unsurprisingly, you begin to miss him after the first day. Your boss insists that you can take the week off and have it for yourself, but you still have no desire to actually do anything.

Seungcheol notices your listless attitude and feels determined to change it.

“Tonight?”

“You don’t want to?”

The way Seungcheol is looking like a pouty puppy is not good for your heart. Although you really don’t feel like going to dinner with Minji and Jeonghan, you can’t say no to the adorably hot man in front of you.

“No, it’s not that, I just—” You’re flustered, but don’t want him to think you don’t want to go with him. “They still think we’re engaged, right?”

You almost regret asking because Seungcheol’s hopeful look slowly fades away and is replaced by poorly concealed dejection. “Yeah. Sorry. I still haven’t cleared things up. We don’t have to go if that makes you feel uncomfortable.”

“I don’t mind.” You tell him truthfully. “I just didn’t want it to seem like I was crossing the line.”

Seungcheol has to physically restrain himself from falling to his knees and telling you that you’re the only person who’s allowed to cross the line with him. Instead he manages to smile at you like he’s not physically dying inside. “You’re not.”

As you’re walking in to what seems to be like one of the most expensive restaurants in the city, you’re glad you spend a good fifteen minutes deciding on the perfect thing to wear. Seungcheol had seemed to like it, at least. His eyes were practically sparkling when he’d seen you.

It’s hard to ignore this intense pressure you feel when you sit down at the table. Minji and Jeonghan greet you amicably like you’re one of their old friends, but you know it’s only because they think you’re engaged to Seungcheol which you most definitely are not.

Luckily, the conversation flows naturally and smoothly until Jeonghan asks a question that leaves you without a single thing to say.

“I need to know the story of how you two fell in love because this man is not one who crosses the line with his employees.”

You’d like to know the same thing yourself. Not that Seungcheol was actually in love with you or had actually done that much to push past these rules he had set, but he’d done more than you ever believed him capable of doing.

“I can’t really remember how it happened.” Seungcheol says honestly. “After a while, I found myself excited to go home and see her. Every time she smiled at me, I felt like my heart was going to explode. When she went home, I missed her even though I knew she was coming back. Eventually, I realized that I couldn’t picture my life without her in it.”

You’re staring. You know you are, but you can’t help it. He sounds so sincere with those shimmering eyes of his, and you feel like your own heart is on the verge of exploding. Even though it’s all an act, you start to feel those familiar butterflies invade your stomach and chest.

“Oh my god!” Minji squeals, slapping her husband’s arm repeatedly. “How cute is that? I swear you guys make me want a love like yours.”

As Jeonghan lets out an offended noise and starts to list off all the romantic and extravagant things he’s done in order to show Minji his love, you can only laugh along and pretend like your boss’s words didn’t affect you as much as they did.

When you get back home, your heart is still unable to let go of those sweet words. Even as you walk up to your room with Seungcheol still by your side, you can’t let them go despite knowing he didn’t mean them.

Now that it’s time to say goodnight, you feel strange parting ways even though he’ll literally be in the room across from yours. “I had a really good time tonight. Thanks for inviting me.”

“I’m glad you had a good time. I was kind of worried you weren’t going to.”

You always had a good time when you were with him, not that you would dare to say that out loud.

“You really surprised me, Mr Choi. I had no idea you were such a good actor.”

You had expected him to laugh, but instead he only looks at you with a somber gaze. “I told you to call me Seungcheol.”

His voice comes out so authoritative that it makes your insides clench, and his lidded gaze makes your heart leap up into your throat. You manage to find your voice even though it comes out a bit weak. “But we’re not pretending anymore...”

His gaze sharpens. “I’ve never pretended to love you.”

His words hang in the air, and they shock you so much that they make you unconsciously give into his request from before. “Seungcheol.” You say breathlessly.

The way his name rolls off your tongue makes his heart stutter, and he briefly thinks he could listen to you say his name forever. Both your eyes are burning fiercely with this emotion that has been blatant to all those around you. Except this time you can both see it.

You’re not sure who makes the first move, but suddenly his mouth is covering yours, tongue licking along your bottom lip. The feeling is electric, and you throw all your inhibitions to the wind as you pull Seungcheol closer.

Your heart is pounding fiercely as you two stumble into his room, pulling off the the clothes you’re wearing, touching each other desperately as if you think this moment might end at any moment. It won’t though, and you become conscious of that fact as you’re laying on the softest sheets you’ve ever felt, completely naked.

Seungcheol is gazing at you with so much affection and want that it makes you feel like he plans to eat you up. He kisses along your inner thighs, gently licking and biting at your soft skin. His warm hands caress the outside of your thighs, gently digging his fingers into the soft skin.

“So pretty.”

You can feel your breath hitch in anticipation as his hands smooth down your inner thighs until he’s pressing two fingers against your aching clit. It’s dizzying the way Seungcheol rubs it in gentle circles that have you squirming and gasping in pleasure. His heated gaze flickers between your face and your dripping cunt, not wanting to miss the sight of you falling apart under him.

“Look at how wet you are, sweetheart. All for me.”

His voice has a possessive edge to it as he grinds down on the bed, hard cock rubbing uselessly against the sheets. The pleasure is minimal, and Seungcheol has to hold back a whine at the lack of relief.

“Please.” You mewl, shifting your hips up slightly.

Seungcheol keeps his dark eyes on you to make sure you’re watching him. He presses a soft kiss to your pulsing clit, and he has to groan when he sees you clench around nothing. The featherlight touch has you feeling so desperate and lightheaded that you’re unable to stop the wanton mewl that tumbles past your lips. “Seungcheol.”

Your voice is so needy and sweet that Seungcheol lets out a moan of his own before he dips his head between your thighs. The moan you let out is loud as he starts to suck and lick at your aching bud. His movements are smooth and gentle somehow, and it’s not long before you feel the coil in your stomach start to tighten.

Seungcheol is groaning and panting into your cunt as he laps up every bit of your juices. He’s eating you out like a starved man, and you love every second of it. The way he grabs your thighs and pulls your wet cunt closer to his mouth makes your head swim. One of your hands finds his hair while the other trails up your body to cup your tit. You pull and pinch at the taut nipple with a loud moan of Seungcheol’s name.

The sweet moans you’re letting out as Seungcheol spreads your slick all over your cunt makes his cock throb in anticipation. He wonders what you’ll sound like when he finally has his dick inside you. Your grip on his hair tightens when he circles his tongue on your puffy bud. The cute whines falling from your lips become louder as his he continues to fuck you with his tongue.

“So sweet.” Seungcheol groans against your dripping cunt. “Sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever tasted.”

Your pussy clenches around his tongue so tightly that it almost feels like it could be pulled off his mouth. But your moans and mewls coax him to keep going, loving the way you’re starting to blubber incoherently. “Fuh-Fuck! Feels so good...”

The way you take an awkward pause makes Seungcheol lift his head questioningly. Your whine of protest has his leaking cock throbbing almost painfully. “What is it?”

Your face feels hot, and you’re so lost in your pleasure that it pushes you to tell him the truth. “Can... Can I call you daddy?”

Seungcheol smashes his hot face back into your cunt, cock aching painfully. “Call me whatever you want, sweetheart. I’m all yours.”

His tongue and lips are massaging your swollen clit, and all you can do is throw your head back and arch your back to grind your hot cunt harder onto his mouth. It almost feels like too much, but strangely also like not enough at the same time.

“O-Oh, fuck! Daddy!”

The loud cry you let out as you squirt all over Seungcheol’s face makes him let out a guttural moan of his own. His entire chin and mouth is covered with your sweet juices, and he continues to lap it up like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted—which you are.

Seungcheol sits up, licking his lips until he can’t taste you anymore. His grin is devious but also so hot. He’s gently caressing your still-quivering thighs, and you feel like you can faint from how much you’re enjoying it.

Then, your eyes drift down to his huge cock. It’s possibly the biggest one you've ever seen, and also the prettiest. You lick your own lips before looking back up at at his face. The way he’s looking at you with his dark eyes has you clenching around nothing.

“You’re okay to keep going?”

God, he’s so fucking sweet that you just want to fuck him until he can’t talk. You nod desperately, opening your legs wider.

“Fuck me, daddy.”

Your mouth drops open in a quiet moan when you feel Seungcheol’s thick cock push into your cunt with a lewd, wet sound. His large hands smooth down your thighs, squeezing and caressing so tenderly that it has your pussy clenching down on his throbbing dick. He swoops down to swallow your moan, lips messily colliding with yours.

His thrusts are so deep and slow that all you can do is gasp into his mouth. The fat tip of his cock is hitting your sweet spot so sharply that you have to buck your hips up to meet his movements. Seungcheol starts to trail his lips along your jaw and neck, gently nipping and kissing at the soft skin. The lewd squelch coming from your pussy is driving him insane. His entire cock is coated with your juices, and he’s never feel better than he does now.

“Fuck, angel. Look at you, taking daddy’s cock so well.” His voice is dizzying, and all you can do is cry out in pleasure.

Seungcheol leans back, just watching you writhe under him. You’re so pretty as you fuck yourself on his cock, squeezing him until it feels almost hard to move. His hand slowly trails down between your bodies, and you let out a loud moan of his name when he starts to roll your puffy clit with his long fingers.

White cream coats his entire length, leaving a milky ring at the base of his cock. You wetly gasp out his name, your nails digging into his forearms, but Seungcheol is relentless. He’s like a hungry beast as he pounds into your gushing hole and all you can do is desperately try to meet his thrusts.

“Fuck, look how you’re soaking daddy’s cock, baby. Making such a mess.” He groans, feeling your slick dripping down to his heavy balls.

You can only moan loudly for him to keep fucking you, already drunk on the feeling of his thick cock splitting you open. Seungcheol spits on your throbbing cunt, mixing in with your juices that are coating his dick. His bulbous tip is slamming against the spongy spot that has you seeing stars, forcing more slick out of you with every harsh thrust.

The coil in the pit of your stomach is close to snapping, and your mouth drops open as your thighs begin to tremble again.

“Fuh-Fuck, daddy! Love your big dick!”

His tantalizing smirk is so hot to you, and it makes you clench down on his cock and release another stream of slick. Seungcheol moans, eager to feel you cream on his cock like he’s dreamed of countless times. It just takes him angling his hips just right for his wish to come true.

Your toes curl in pleasure, a loud moan of his name tearing from your throats as a rush of wetness escapes you. Of course, Seungcheol keeps pounding you, roughly fucking you through one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Cream all over my cock.” His voice rasps, thick with lust and adoration.

A thick white ring is at the base of his cock, slowly smearing down to his heavy sack. The sight is driving Seungcheol wild, almost as wild as the sight of your glistening folds stretching around him. “Give me another one, baby. I know you can.”

“Fuck, please.” Your cry. “Fill me up with your cum, daddy!”

It’s like something inside Seungcheol snaps when he hears your pleas. In an abrupt movement, he presses your legs to your chest and starts to pound into your hot cunt. Your tight walls are sucking him in like they’re also begging to be painted with his seed.

“You want my cum, angel?” Seungcheol coos, gently caressing your soft legs as he slams his cock into your sweet spot, balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. “Want me to fill you up until you’re carrying my baby, give Taehyun a little sibling?”

“Please!” You mewl when you feel his cock throb inside you. “Want to make you a daddy again. Stuff me full of your cum!”

Your voice is breathless and a little whiny, and Seungcheol feels like you’re making him lose his mind. “Fuck, baby. I’ll give it to you then. I’ll fill you up until I’m all you can feel.”

You continue to beg him for his cum, telling him how much you need it in your cunt. The more he fucks you, the less you can form actual words. Every fantasy you’ve had feels so dull compared to the real thing. All the times you’ve gotten off to the image of him fucking you or had wet dreams about him were absolutely obscene and filthy. Somehow, the reality was much better.

A rush of euphoria overwhelms you when you feel Seungcheol spills his cum directly against your cervix. You wrap your legs around him to make sure his cum goes as deep as possible. His hot load fills you up, painting every inch of your sensitive walls as he slowly rolls his hips into you.

You yank him down for a messy kiss, so desperate and needy for him that you don’t care about anything else. “Don’t stop, daddy.”

Seungcheol fucks his cum into you, wanting to mark you from the inside out now that he has you. He can feel your mixed releases slowly seep out of you, and he carnally thinks he’s going have to fill you up again so he can be sure he’s bred you properly.

Your hot cunt is throbbing almost painfully, bordering on that delicious burn of being overstimulated. But you’re still hungry for more. So when he releases you from the press he had you in, you roll over and stick your ass out at him. You look back, satisfied when you see his dark eyes are on your sloppy pussy that’s dripping with his cum.

“Keep fucking me, daddy. Want more of your cum.”

That’s all it takes for Seungcheol to plunge back into your tight cunt, pounding into you like a savage beast. His leaking tip slams into your spongy spot repeatedly, making you cry out in absolute ecstasy. His big balls are slapping against your sensitive nub, adding to the mind-blurring pleasure you’re feeling.

“Fuck, Y/N. Your little cunt is still so fucking tight after being stretched open and bred.” Seungcheol growls, hands squeezing and slapping your ass as it bounces against his pelvis. “Creaming and dripping all over this cock, making a mess again.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he keeps fucking you with feral precision. “Fuck, daddy! So good!”

Seungcheol can feel your hot cunt clamping down on him again, and he lets out a deep moan. “Come for me again, baby. Show daddy just how good he’s making you feel.”

You can only mewl and whine, too list in the pleasure his big cock is providing you. Seungcheol’s thrusts become impossibly rougher and sharper. It feels like he’s rearranging your guts with how he’s pulling your pliant body to meet the snapping of his hips.

“Daddy!” You squeal in shock when he flips you on your side before hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and continues to fuck you mercilessly.

This new angle stretches your sore cunt more while exposing it to the cool air. You can only imagine how filthy you look down there, but Seungcheol seems to love it. All the pleasure your feelings is driving you insane, and you can only feel an insane amount of pleasure taking over your mind.

“Come inside me, daddy!” You moan wantonly, desperate to feel his hot cum fill you up again.

His soaked cock throbs inside you, eager to release inside your tight pussy. “Want me to? You that desperate to be a mommy, baby?”

When you nod desperately, he focuses on making you come again so he can give you what you both want. Seungcheol gives you one sharp thrust before he leans back slightly to watch you squirt and cover his lower half in your release. Your body gently convulses as quiet mewls pour from your mouth.

“You’re so fucking hot, sweetheart.” Seungcheol groans as he keeps fucking into your hot cunt. “Can’t get enough of you.”

He keeps slamming in and out of your wet pussy desperately, eager for his own release. Seungcheol comes with a yell of your name, spilling his hot cum deep inside you and pumping you full. His cum spurts along your sore walls until it feels like there’s no room for more of it. It seeps out around his cock, leaking down to your ass and his heavy balls.

Seungcheol doesn’t slow down. The oversensitivity you’re both feeling makes him more ravenous. He obsessed with the sight of you trembling on his cock, caught between begging for a break and pleading for more. He fucks his cum into you, desperate to make it go as deep as possible.

Wet noises seep into your foggy mind, playing dully in the background to your muddles thoughts of sex and Seungcheol. He’s successfully fucked you stupid, and you’ve never felt better than you did now. Your cunt is filled to the brim, his seed coating your every inch of your core. At some point, his thrusts slowed into thorough grinds, sticky strings of arousal and cum connecting your most intimate parts.

Seungcheol doesn’t pull out. Instead he collapses next to you and tugs you closer. He shoves his face in your collarbone, inhaling your scent as he feels raw cock throb inside you.

You hug him closer to you, gently caressing his hair. It’s a peaceful silence that fills the room, and you were close to drifting off to sleep until a thought occurs to you.

“Can I ask you something?”

Seungcheol nuzzles deeper into you, pressing a wet kiss on your soft skin. “Anything.”

“Why did Jeonghan think we were engaged in the first place?” You wonder, thinking it would be fine to ask this much since you have his cock and cum inside you.

There’s a pregnant pause until Seungcheol pulls back and looks at you with a slight pout. “That idiot wanted to set you up with his cousin. I had no other choice but to tell him you were already mine.”

You actually laugh, not believing this was the same man who told you to never overstep the boundaries he had. His pout is still there, and you lean in to kiss it right off his face. It’s languid and gentle, and leaves you feeling dizzy.

“Fine, but I still expect an actual ring.”

Seungcheol hugs you tighter, wondering if it’s too soon to show you the little black box he has in his nightstand.

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @ohwonwoo @dokwiyomie

#seungcheol smut #seungcheol x reader #svt smut #svthub #scoups smut #svt x reader #seungcheol fic #seungcheol fanfic #svt x you #seungcheol x you #svt fic #scoups fanfic #scoups x reader #scoups x you

[rinbowaman]

HI, I LOVE UR WRITING SO MUCH!!

can u do something,like a oneshot Or something for heeseung where because of being an idol he can't date but he's also a hormonal man so he gets hot and bothered due to stress and other factors often but now it's gotten to a point where he can't concentrate, he needs pussy. So he tells his manager who pulls him aside one day to ask him what's wrong with him. Now the manager arranges someone (YOU) as a stress reliever for heeseung. U can continue the rest hehe:)

”The Arrangement.”

Warnings: Idol HS and y/n, oral (fem receiving), reader is getting paid for sex, hints of rough smut.

“Heeseung, come on! More energy! Bring out Ethan Lee! Concert is in a few hours, we need everyone on point.”

Heeseung’s hands remained firm on his hips as he rolled his eyes and caught his breath. He was frustrated, angry, and disappointed, mainly because there was a lot of truth in the staff’s words, he wasn’t as lively or energetic…in fact, he was slacking. 

“Yeah….got it. Can we do another take?” 

The staff and creative director all nod and aired the track as the boys performed their routine. “Yes! Just like that! Keep doing that Heeseung!”

“Nice wink, Jake! Do that more!”

“Sunoo, more smiling!”

“Jungwon, tilt your chin down more on this part.”

“Nice one Niki!”

“Jay, too sexy! Tone it down just a tad.”

“Sunghoon, do that thing that the girls like, you know, lick the fangs. That drives them crazy, and we want them to go ballistic during the concert.”

By the end of the hour, the group had completed a lengthy six hour session, with only ten minutes to spare before hair and makeup. “Changeover!” the staff yells out, already herding the young men backstage. 

“Heeseung…you good?”

“Huh?  Oh…yeah….”

“You sure? You seem to be out of it, I know it’s hard to get rest when we’re busy on tour…just a few more days and we can finally get a break.” Jake was always understanding, and normally he could guess the issue and provide the motivation as a resolve for everyone, including the eldest. However, this time…he wasn’t guessing correctly. 

“Yeah…thanks.” Heeseung merely stated before changing into the first outfit. He wasn’t tired or feeling restless, maybe to an extent, but that really wasn’t the cause of his lack in performance. The man was yearning; hungry for a desire that could not be fulfilled by the pampering treatment of first class air tickets, the rising fame of popularity, or the lavish hotel stay. He needed flesh, and badly. 

While it was customary for idol’s to keep things hush-hush as far as their personal lives went, it didn’t mean that they could indulge, so long as it never reached public sight or hearing. What with the frequent dates he’s gone on with many of the most well known female idols, some younger or older, the rigorous tour schedule had kept him from maintaining anything steady, and for so long he had been running dry. He wasn’t necessarily desperate, just needed the warmth and comfort of a suitable woman. 

The concert ended, and as always, the group had served well and performed fantastically. The energy was thriving and the atmosphere was filled with screams as each member waved goodbye. 

Finally, it was all done. 

“Well…we got two more days here until we fly back. We gonna do anything?” Jake inquires openly as he high-fives each member. 

“Niki and I were going to go try out this restaurant. They charge $300 per steak.”

“Oh I heard about that place. Don’t they have a year-long waitlist?” 

“Manager got us in.”

Heeseung pretended to be asleep, propping his head against the window as his arms remained firmly crossed against his chest. His ears pricked up as he overheard the ongoing conversation inside the van. 

After arriving at the hotel, everyone went into their respective rooms. As usual, Heeseung had a room entirely by himself, which he and the members were instructed to tell the fans that it was all due to chance of winning “Rock, Paper, Scissors” when in reality, the eldest of the group receives such privileges as customary within the industry. But for the sake of reflecting the bond and “softness” within their image, the company deemed it better to lie about the room assignments. 

He tosses his leather jacket aside as it flops onto the chair backing. Exhaustion took over his entire body as he threw himself on the bed. His eyes slowly open as he reaches for his phone, half of his face still buried into the plush bedding as he explores his pocket and dig it out. There was no way he could spend another night alone, taking care of his needs by hand. WIth as many callouses he had, there was no way he could even make it feel natural or good, there wasn’t enough lotion in the world that could cover up and mend the roughness of his hardworking skin. 

“We need to talk.” was all he types in before sending off the message. 

A few moments pass before he hears the knocking at his door. “Well that was fast…Mr. Manager.” he softly whispers while lifting his body off the bed. 

“Heeseung, what’s up?”

“Need you to come inside for a second.”  Heeseung nonchalantly spoke out as he turned and lazily plops himself on the couch. HIs manager followed closely behind and took a seat across, looking at the young man intently before raising the concern yet again. “Everything alright?”

“You really have to ask?” Heeseung peeks from under his elbow as he drapes an arm over his eyes. He really didn’t like to make eye contact when it came to the topic of girls and dating…and this wasn’t going to be any easier. “I need a woman…”

“.....you mean….a date?” his manager tries to confirm, before a snappy Heeseung gently corrects him. 

“Not to date….I need a woman…I need skin…flesh…hair….and nails to dig into my skin with a feminine voice to scream out my name.” 

“....so you want a prostitute?” 

“NOT A PROSTITUTE!” on the verge of losing it, Heeseung sits up rather abruptly as he squares his gaze over to his manager. He really wasn’t trying to be impatient or unpleasant, he was in a vulnerable state of mind. No man should ever go so long without feel the pleasures of someone else’s body, especially someone who is constantly surrounded by all these pretty little fans that were filling his mind with all sorts of sordid thoughts….them with their perfect makeup, the sweet fragrances of their perfume and those damn long and elegant acrylic nails. Day in and day out, he’s surrounded by feminine energy, it all contributed to this sexual demise he was falling into. “I’m just going to put it this way….if you don’t find me someone that can keep their mouth shut, and spend one night with me, then I am going to lose it. I’m on the verge of doing reckless things, and I can’t control it. Just find me someone that isn’t a prude but isn’t desperate.”

The manager knew Heeseung well enough to know when the young man was on the road to destruction, this was one of them. The heat of anger coming from his eyes was enough to tell him what he had to do. The hardest factor about this thing is finding someone suitable, not only in appearance but in their manners; he’d have to be cunning and covert. 

Five hours in, he nearly fell to the ground in defeat when suddenly…

“Excuse me, Sir?”

“Hm? Yes?”

“You dropped this back at the last walkway.” 

“Oh!...Thank you….”

You turned to  continue on with your own business when the gentleman spoke out in haste, you had assumed it was because he wanted to thank you once again for returning his wallet, but the tune of his wording made you realize that that wasn’t the case. 

“Young lady, I have a proposition for you…do you have a minute?”

…………………….

A half hour later, after an internal hesitant debate, you caved in at the young man’s offer. You weren’t the type to ever hook up with a random man, even an idol, but the fact that you had been running dry since your last break up over a year ago, and not to mention the exquisite monetary offer that would cover three months of your rent, which would leave you that much stress free from everything else going on. Your final year in college has been more demanding than the previous, so much that you had to quit your part time job, which left you struggling financially. All of this led to the perfect combination of desperation, sexually frustrated, and mentally drained. By the time he mentioned that a non-disclosure agreement would mandate that both you and the idol would refrain from exposing your identities, you accepted. 

Expressing that you wanted to get it done and over with, the man took you to the lavish hotel room, the most expensive in your home country. You weren’t entirely sure how you felt, being taken to an extremely fancy hotel room to meet a young and handsome performer and spend one night with him…for sex. Should you bail out now? 

“We’re here. Here’s the key card, it’s on the third floor, room number 306.” 

You take the key card and paused, thinking for a moment if you should just tell him that the deal was off. But the subtle push over towards the elevator pretty much sealed your night. 

You walked through the narrow corridor, staring at the gold engraving of the numbers on the key card. With a deep breath, you gently knocked on the door before inserting the key. “Hello?” you gently speak out as you open the door. The entire room was dimmed with a golden hue with no one in sight; the massive bed topped with goose feather pillows and comforter sets up an enticing welcome as you breach closer to the main layout. 

“Well hello.”

You turned in haste upon hearing the deep voice from behind, and saw him. He was leaning back against the wall, behind the door panel side. No wonder you didn’t see him when entering, the wide door swing provided enough cover for him to remain elusive yet still having enough sight to observe how delectable you look. His manager outdid himself. 

“Oh…hi…I’m sorry…my name is–”

“Y/N…”

“Y-yeah…”

The manager must have already texted the idol your name. You couldn’t lie, this entire thing was uncomfortable, and you were on the verge of backing out when the man started to walk over, stepping into the warm light. He had a handsome face, and was tall…very tall, but of all things that got to you, was the glaring look he had in his eye. He looked hungry, famished even, with the way he stroked his finger across his lips as he tilted his chin downard, arms loosely crossed as he took each step steadily. 

“Um…I’m not sure…if I should–”

“You’re already here…might as well get it going.”

He grabbed onto your shoulders, proceeding to walk forward as he herd’s you backwards until your back meets the opposite wall. He really was hungry, and unfortunately for you, it was contagious. WIth the way his hands roamed all over our body, the way his mouth immediately latched onto your throat, and the way his fingers ripped your blouse apart, sending buttons flying all over, he was a demon tainting every sense of rationality in your mind and you loved it. Still, you were experiencing hesitancy, but the moment he peeled your bra down and began sucking on your nipples, leaving squelching kisses the soft skin on your mounds. “W-wait…”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he drags you down onto the ground, pushing you back to lay you down, leaving you completely vulnerable. He had to be hurting with the way he was feasting on your body, so much that you wondered exactly just how long he had gone without it, and was it longer than you? 

“I-I…” was all you could manage to stutter when he started to lift your skirt, ruffling it around your waist as he fingers the damask lining of your thigh high stockings. With a mouthful of your skin, he muffles his burning desire. “Stop trying to push me away…I’ve been hurting for so long.” 

You ignored his words as you continued to create some distance. You were torn, he felt so good rubbing your curves but also made you feel scared with how pushy and forceful he was becoming. You nearly screamed out when the sudden warmth of soft, plush lips tenderly kissed your clitoris. Being so caught up with his mannerisms, you hadn’t realized that he dragged and tore your panties off, leaving you bare and exposed. The way his tongue circulated around and pressed in between the folds of your womanhood caused you to drop your hands to your side, no longer putting up any resistance. He kept going, licking and twirling his tongue around, making your head spin vigorously as he committed the only gentle act of the night, which was placing his hands on your inner thighs and pushing them apart as he buried his face deeper into your core. 

You moaned out in extreme ecstasy, arching your back and digging your hips downward. You gulped down hard swallows as you try to catch your breath, but the sensation of his nose and mouth inducing the most pleasure you’ve felt in over a year had you inadvertently suppressing screams, choking on your own breaths. 

“O-oh!...Oh my God! P-please!” You dug your fingernails into the floorboard, squinting your eyes shut as you gasped out your moans, he went in faster and flickered his tongue deeper while shoving it inside your cavity. Groaning out his pleasures, he growls as he thrusts it in and out. He closes your legs together, pressing them closer to your chest as he wraps his arms around your thighs, still slurping and thrusting his oral muscle. Propping his stature on the caps of his knees, he hugs your thighs close to his chest as he lifts your derriere from off the floor as he brings you closer to the edge. HIs face shoved in against your taint, his slick tongue going in and out at a vigorous momentum, the faint echoes of his cheeks slapping into you as the impact caused your body to shift up while he had you partially levitated did you in, and you screamed out your moans. With your thighs shook, lips quivered, and chest heaving, you laid restlessly as the hot stream of fresh tears escaped from the outer corners of your closed eyes. Your heavy breathing became a rewarding sight as he remained in his kneeling position, unbuckling his belt. A smirk creeps up on his face as he sheds off his attire, chuckling in a demeaning manner as he looks down at you, somewhat pitifully and yet adoringly. 

“Oh pretty thing…the night is just getting started. Got a lot of pent up frustration in me, and unfortunately, I’m about to take it out all on you. Now…grab it…and scream out my name.”

……………………..

Days had passed since that night, and you still felt sore in between your legs. It was stingy, yet the pulsating rampage also reminded you of the greatest pleasure you had felt in all your life. Not even your ex-boyfriend, the one who was known to frequent the college campus girls, could even make you feel remotely as good. Must be an idol thing, either that or there must be something in the water in South Korea. Too bad you’ll never see him again. 

You were making your way over towards the bus station ahead, when a large crowd blocked your way. 

“Oh come on…” you tilted your head left, and right, all to find a small loophole within the bustling groups of young girls screaming their heads off and flashing dozens of pictures. You shuffled your way through, not paying any mind to your surroundings, when all of a sudden a young fellow dressed in black approaches you.

“Miss y/n?”

“Yes?...who are you?”

The man declines to answer, instead, he hands you a folded piece of paper. You unfolded it to read the contents, looking rather confused. 

‘Hey pretty thing, you free tonight?’

Looking up, the staff member smiles as he points to the side, indicating for you to look in that direction. Turning your head over shoulder, you were stunned to see the man from the other night, the idol who violated you with his tongue and cock, had you begging for more until the wee hours of the early morning. It was him…

“Oh my God is he looking at me?!”

“No he’s looking at me!”

“Heeseung! Heeseung!” 

All the girls waved and jumped, but the direct eye contact and small smirk told you of who he truly was looking at. He sends off a wink which had all the girls pool into an emotional and hormonal mess, leaving only you standing upright, with his eyes still looking directly into your own, he silently mouths out the words to you. 

“My…pretty….thing.”

#heeseung x reader #heeseung scenarios #heeseung smut #enha x reader #heeseung hard hours #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung fanfic #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enha heeseung #heeseung imagines #hee smut #heeseung #enhypen heeseung smut #heeseung au #enhypen heeseung #heeseung enhypen #enha smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enha imagines

[roll-of-royces]

Drabble: Workplace Violence (Zayne x AFAB!Reader)

Content: You get hurt. Zayne picks up the pieces, and maybe, possibly, loses his temper.

Rating: T for slight violence and injuries

Spoilers: Slight Chapter 4 mention

Word Count: 1170

It has become a bit of a habit of Zayne's and so the other staff have begun to notice it. Whenever a Hunter comes into the hospital, (specifically a female hunter) he always asks, "What is her name?" 

This is the only time he ever asks a patient's name unless it is prevalent to what he needs to do next. After all there are clipboards with that information, it's not important if he's deep in surgery, covered in blood trying to keep someone alive. 

But he asks, and he waits with bated breath for any name that is not your name. 

So when Greyson pops his head into his office, "Hunter in surgery. You're needed." 

Zayne stands, runs his hands along his coat and asks as he always does, "Their name?" 

And then Greyson does something he never does, he looks down at the floor and hesitates. Because his staff are starting to pick up on why he asks. They're starting to notice one woman that is always around. The woman that eats lunch in the cafeteria, and shows up unannounced and lets herself into Zayne's office. 

The woman that Zayne leaves his office door open for in the first place. 

Greyson says your name. 

Zayne is torn between two sides of himself, the side that is calm, a doctor, he asks, "What are her injuries?" His voice doesn't waver, his expression shows nothing. He is the cold creature half the hospital thinks he is. 

The other side of him riots, he feels ice curl up his back from his Evol before he gets it under control. He wants to ask what happened, who hurt you, who could have stopped it. This side of him stays silent as he follows the other man into the hallway toward Operating Room D, the one specifically kept for Wanderer related injuries. 

Greyson rattles off everything that needs to be mended and fixed. He came prepared. He knew Zayne would ask, of course he would ask. You'll need surgery, but the chances you'll live are greater than ninety-three percent. That high rate comes from Zayne himself, he's not arrogant, he's just better than most. 

When he slips into the operating room you're already there, sedated, prepped for operation. Against his wishes he freezes for less than a second, staring. There's bloody gauze in the waste bin below the table, you have wounds that seep red ichor down onto the metal table. 

Your hair, which you're always running your fingers through to keep smooth is in disarray. Your skin is pale, lacking the playful pink it normally is. 

But now is not the time to mourn what has happened to you. Zayne bottles it all up, shoves is deep inside himself where mountains and men in black coats live and gets to work. 

It takes five hours of extensive operating to stabilize you completely. He doesn't let anyone do anything but the most necessary work, he trusts his hands. He's not arrogant, he's just better. That's what he keeps telling himself on repeat. 

It has nothing to do with a desperate attempt to make sure that tomorrow you look at him with those wide beautiful eyes. It has nothing to do with the ice in his heart, and the terror of the idea of living without you. 

All Zayne knows is something breaks in him, something integral and controlled that lives in his chest at the sight of all the blood coating his gloves, his operating suit, the table, your body. 

Once he has you in a recovery room, door closed, asleep for now, he turns to Greyson. "What happened?" 

"From what I heard she ended up taking on too many Wanderers alone, her partner brought her in." 

Zayne swallows, "Is Xavier here?" 

Sure, he knows all about your partner. You're his girlfriend, you chat about the other man occasionally. He's talented but under-utilizes his abilities. He's lazy, too casual, and is inept at plenty of basic tasks like cooking, remembering how to get into his own apartment, and directions. 

Zayne didn't care much for Xavier before today, but now... 

"He's in the waiting room." 

All of his patience, all of his understanding, all of his careful step by step planning has been used up on making sure that you live to see dawn tomorrow. His feet hit the tiles of the hall hard as he heads for the waiting room. 

Pushing through the door he looks around. First, he looks for Caleb out of pure reflex, because if you are injured he will be here. The distinct lack of your brother is a stark reminder of the pain you have already suffered. 

Next he categorizes the others waiting for you. Tara is nibbling on the edge of his finger, anxious with a few of your other coworkers. Rafayel, is sitting off alone looking down at his hands, quiet. Respectable enough. 

And then of course there is Xavier. He sits in his bloody uniform, head leaned back against the wall, eyes closed. As if this doesn't matter, as if you did not almost die. He's taking a nap. 

Zayne is not on most days what he himself would consider an impulsive or violent man. Today is an exception for many things. 

He advances and Xavier has just long enough to start opening his eyes before he's yanking him out of his chair by his collar. The Hunter straightens, but doesn't pull away.

His acceptance is his guilt. 

"What were you?" Zayne's voice echoes. Staff and visitors alike stare, because this is not like him at all. He doesn't raise his voice at anyone let alone grab someone like he's done to Xavier. 

When Xavier doesn't immediately give an excuse Zayne keeps going, he puts all of his fear, all of his frustration into it. "Where the hell were you when she was getting torn into? Forty-three stitches! The stress can make her heart condition worsen. She'll need weeks, possibly months, to recover. Where were you?" 

"I was late getting to work." Xavier replies, there's no more fatigue in his eyes. "I made a mistake. I won't let it happen again." 

Zayne's hand tightens on his shirt, "Why were you late?" 

Jenna stands, "Doctor Zayne, I understand - " 

"Why?" He snarls at Xavier ignoring her entirely. 

Guilt again. Good he should feel guilty. 

"I overslept." 

Something ugly overcomes Zayne, something covetous and cloaked in darkness. Something old and new, something foreseeing and breaking. He lets go. 

And punches Xavier as hard as he can. 

His knuckles crack against the man's jaw. Xavier stumbles under the hit, hand reflexively coming to his face. He makes no move to attack back. There will be no war in the hospital waiting room. 

Before anyone can say anything else he drops his bruising hand to his side and addresses the crowd, "She'll make a full recovery, but won't be taking any visitors today. Please excuse me, I need to check on my patient." 

#l&ds #lads #love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #Protective Zayne

[syndxlla]

best friends don’t look at each other the way we do

A low stakes, high reward and self-indulgent Zelink fan fiction. Canon-compliant. Takes place between BOTW and TOTK

Chapter Five: My North Star

Read chapter four here

My masterlist

Song: August by Taylor Swift

Summary: Link and Zelda get a visitor from an old friend, and start to remember how to live for the hope of it all.

Warnings: brief and non graphic mentions of death and dead bodies, canon-typical violence and horror, PTSD (always for this fan fic)

Word Count: 3.3k words

Authors Note: finally some happy moments lol. Also this is unedited!! ALSO I KNOW I HAVE SO MANY UNANSWERED ASKS RN I PROMISE I AM NOT IGNORING YOU IM JUST BUSY AND LAZY kloveyoubye

It takes only three more days for Impa to arrive at their door, angrily pounding her staff on the wooden plank. It’s early, she beats the rooster, and Link is rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he stumbles to the door from his makeshift bed he’s made adjacent to the kitchen.

He’s shocked to see the old woman staring up at him, as far as he knows, she hasn’t left Kakariko village in decades.

“You completed the mission and your first instinct was NOT to come and tell me?” She asks, her wrinkled lips pressed firmly into a frown. Link looks up to see Cado, apologetic. His hair is down, shirt is off, and he’s barely wearing trousers. He yawns.

“Good morning, Master Impa.” He bows deeply to her and she just whacks his skull with her cane in the same manner she did the door. Link yelps and rubs the top of his head. “What was that for?” He asks.

“Where’s the princess?”

“She’s sleeping still, it’s barely sunrise.” Link rubs some more sleep from his lashes, his hand in a tight fist. “You know, most people say good morning when you see them first thing…”

Impa then lets herself into the house, pushing past him like the angry ball of spunk she is. “I’ll have tea.” She states, “And I’d like to see my friend.” Link and Cado look at each other, the Sheikah man staring at him apologetically.

Link nods, walking to the furnace and kneeling in front of it. He blows on the dying embers from the night before, placing a small log on them. Flames catch, and he’s setting the kettle over them, still full of water from yesterday. Cado closes the door and sits across from Impa at the table. Link eyes his bed roll in the corner of the room, kicking some blankets around in an attempt to make it look less disheveled, but the elderly woman just squints at the state of the house. If only she had seen it a week ago. Link was starting to feel proud of he and Zelda’s progress, wildflowers being placed in a vase on the table, and their plates polished and put away neatly for the first time. After Impa’s scrutinizing gaze, however, he was feeling all sorts of insecure again.

The air is stagnant.

“She's still sleeping…still.” Link clears his throat, his voice hushed. “She needs to rest because-“

“Link, two bodies were found just outside of the castle two days ago, the man who found them also reports seeing a Shadowy Figure, covered in what he suspects is malice.” Impa interrupts him.

“What?” He asks, startled.

“I didn’t want to lead with that, but it cannot be ignored.” She spoke in the same hushed tone. They didn’t want to wake the Princess, and they especially didn’t want to scare her.

“Treasure hunters? I mean it's still a war zone there, it wasn’t anything else… right? He was lying, surely. All the Malice disappeared…” Link asks, feeling the blood go from his face.

“The man was Me.” Cado frowns. He would never lie. “After we got your message from Purah, I traveled to the castle to confirm that the Calamity was destroyed. The bodies were hylian, two young people. A boy and a girl… I thought it was..”

Cado’s voice became too loud, and Link hushed him.

“We want to think it was leftover spells, but we don’t know. We don’t know who else to ask to investigate.” Impa says.

“Now that Hyrule is safe, it's time we start reestablishing civility, democracy.” Cado steps in.

“It’s been eleven days since I defeated him.” Link crosses his arms, “I’m still not sleeping through the nights, Zelda doesn’t have her full strength back yet. You promised me I would get to rest when it was all over.” He looks at the Sheikah Chief.

“Don’t lie to me, Link.” Impa shakes her head, “I know you can’t stay in one place for too long. No matter how hard you try.” She states. She wasn’t wrong, but recently Link has started to feel different.

The kettle starts to whistle. Link swallows his frustration and takes it off the heat, preparing three cups of green bell tea. Everyone feels discomfort. “Did the figure do anything?” Link asks as he pours the hot water into the cups, his back turned to the Sheikah.

“It just stared at me, it was tall, hunched over.” Cado describes, one could easily hear the fear in his voice. “We stared at each other, I couldn’t tell if it was from this world or not.”

“Tall like a Zora or tall like a Gerudo?” Link asks, still turned away.

“Gerudo.” Cado struggled to say it. “I drew my sword, and as soon as I did, it turned away from me and walked into the mist to the south. I never saw it again.”

Link swallows and then turns around finally, carrying the cups to the table. “And the bodies?”

“Cause of death was unknown, I checked for a pulse multiple times but they were both long gone. They were dressed in traveler's garb. Their dress seemed to be from the north.”

“If they have families they need to know.” Link sits, holding the mug of tea in his hands.

“You’re the only one who could inform them about such a thing.” Impa says. “Tabantha is a long way, but you could be there and back in an hour if you warp. We’ll stay here until you-“

“The sheikah slate is utterly destroyed.” Link admits. “I left it with Purah but she essentially told me it's beyond repair.”

“You’d have to go on foot like the rest of us.” Cado smirks.

“Why would I?” Link asks, perhaps too forcefully. “I did my quest.”

Impa stares at him, silent for a moment, “You don’t really feel that way.” She shakes her head, “And if you do, then you are not the same man who woke up three years ago.”

“I’m not!” Link almost shouts, and they all bite their tongues, listening for any sound from upstairs. “Impa… you know I care. You know I want to go find whatever that figure was, but I am tired.” His voice cracks. “I can’t just sleep this one off.” He can’t look at her, if he does, he’ll break. “This is much deeper than exhaustion. It’s… it’s traumatic.

I still see him. His eyes, the way His heat radiated and burned my skin, the sound of His laughter. He Haunts me at night, I swear He finds ways into my dreams and taunts me there. Like it was all just a game to Him. Because it was. It always was. He’ll do it again a hundred times, and we can’t ever stop Him. There will be countless more Links who lose their hearing and can’t sleep and won't even look themselves in a mirror because as long as the triforce exists, He will mock us all with His deviance.”

Link stares into his tea.

“Impa…” A quiet voice says from the stairs, and all three of them are turning to see her. Long, blonde hair draped over her shoulder, eyes sleepy and confused, hands at her sides.

She nearly trips down the stairs as she runs to the woman, wrapping her hands around her neck and crying. Impa immediately holds her back, laughing, taking an old, bony hand and stroking the top of her friend's head with it.

“Good Morning, my dear.”

Link and Cado share one more glance.

The day is spent with hugs and laughter and Zelda looking into Impa’s eyes and crying every time she sees that they’re still the same eyes. Link cooks for them, and gets as quiet as he was at the start of this war. It’s all he can think about. Did it return for other Links? Did it return this early?

Zelda must have noticed his distance because while Impa is telling Zelda all about the man she married, the Princess is glancing at Link. His shoulders tense, his head down, his voice silent. She frowns, deciding to ask him about it later.

Cado was delighted to meet the woman, bowing deeply for her. He eventually got on a tangent about his children while they ate the omelets Link prepared, but Link stayed silent. He glances over at the Master Sword, leaning against the corner of the room, staring back at him.

He distracts himself the rest of the day with Epona, tending to her constantly while Zelda tells Impa every single detail about her time sealed away. The two prayed over each other a few times. The sun gets low in the sky, Link stays silent.

They come back inside, and before Impa and Cado enter from the outside to begin their next hour of catching up, Zelda places a gentle hand on Link’s shoulder. “Link,”

He turns to look at her, everything about him immediately softening as her green eyes stare at him.

“You’re upset?” She says, her voice soothing.

“No I’m not.” He denies. She raises an eyebrow.

“I know you.” Link becomes acutely aware of her thumb that starts rubbing circles into his muscle and he has to remind himself how to stand. ”Talk to me.”

He knows he can’t tell her about this, not yet. “Later?” He asks. She smiles and nods.

“I’m here for you.”

Link begins dinner, and Zelda washes up, leaving the three alone for the first time since early morning.

Impa stares, Cado uncomfortably clears his throat. Link looks at them, frowning, knowing what they want.

He sighs deeply.

“I will return to the castle. Zelda and I briefly discussed returning the Champion’s weapons to their people, and can do it then.” He finally says. “Tell every leader to warn their people to avoid the castle at all costs.”

“Good.” Impa nods.

“But-“ Link holds his hand up, “I’m not going until both she and I are ready.” He says.

“What do you mean by ready?” That old woman was always so pushy.

“When Zel and I both feel ready to return to those places without it absolutely crushing our spirits, we will go. Together.”

“Hylia knows when that will be.” Cado scoffs.

“Exactly.” Link says. “Unless more deaths are reported or this shadow is seen again, it can wait. Everyone has been avoiding the castle for a century, what’s a little while longer?” Link states, silently proud of himself for sticking up for himself and not just being the obedient soldier he was trained to be. “Besides, no one should be there anyways, it’s not safe.”

“You’re in love with the Princess.” Impa states with a chuckle and Link sputters, the wind knocking out of him.

“What? Why would you say that?” He asks.

“I saw you two. The way you look at her.” Impa smirks. Link feels his ears heat up, Cado stifles a laugh.

“You are so rude.” Link replies.

“I think you two need each other.” Impa shrugs, “But do not let any worldly affection keep you in the way of what really matters here: Hyrule and its people.”

Impa always knew exactly how to remind Link that he is just a soldier.

“We will leave before we eat. At this rate we will not return home until late into the night.” Impa states, standing back up.

They say their goodbyes. Zelda promises to visit, Impa gives her a kiss on the forehead, Cado bows again. And just as the sun begins to set, the pair is headed through the bridge.

Both Link and Zelda stand in the doorway as they watch them leave. Zelda starts to sniffle, wiping a tear.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Link says in a comforting tone when he sees her cry, turning to face her. “It’s okay, we’re gonna see her again real soon.” He reassures. Zelda sighs.

“She got so old, without me.” She tries to swallow her sob but fails. She presses her tear-stained face into the crook of Link’s neck, and he just holds her for as long she needs. Zelda is the one to pull away after a moment of comfort. “I’m sorry… I know there's something troubling you, too. I shouldn’t be so selfish.” Zelda sighs.

Link swallows, “It’s nothing. Not for tonight.”

“You're sure?”

“Positive.” Link nods. “Can I show you something?” He asks, and Zelda is nodding as he takes her hand and leads her up stairs. He pushes open a hatch on the ceiling in the corner, and a rickety ladder slides down. Some dust and cobwebs fly down, but when the air clears, Link is climbing up onto the roof of their house. He helps Zelda up next, and she’s looking up at the night sky with bright eyes. It’s still not totally dark yet, but the first few stars are starting to shine.

The roof is slightly slanted, but not enough to cause either of them concern. They both comfortably find a position on the tiles, facing south, noses pointed at the heavens. There’s about a foot of space between them, and Link wants to scoot closer into her, but chooses not to. He closes the hatch from the outside, so the warm light of the house doesn’t pollute their view.

“I like to come up here to clear my head.” He says. “It doesn’t hold a candle to the night sky in Hebra or out in the desert, but it's still pretty spectacular.”

Zelda hums, “You’ll have to take me someday.” She stays looking at the sky but Link looks at her. Her profile is beautiful, hair long and cascading, ears pointed and blushed. Surely she knew he was staring, but neither of them did anything to stop.

“One day.” He nods before looking away and laying on his back. He rests his arms behind his head, crossing an ankle over his bended knee. “That one is called Haru.” He points to an especially bright star, “It’s part of the constellation Nabooru.” He then traces the warrior constellation with his finger.

“I remember, yes.” Zelda scoots into him, and he tries to stifle his smile. She doesn’t lay next to him, but now they’re a mere inches apart.

“And this is the North Star.” Link cranes his neck back to see it. “It moves though, did you know that? True north changes over time, so that one was the North Star when we were born, but over time the celestial bodies shifted and now it's that one. They didn’t even know that until I came back, because I was following the original one and ended up in Lanayru instead of Eldin. I talked with Purah and Robbie and they agreed, isn’t that fascinating?” He asks with a smile.

Zelda smiles so wide she thinks her cheeks will burst. “I never heard you speak like that before. With so much passion and eloquence.”

Link looks at her and just chuckles, “Now everyone follows the new star, but it didn’t have a name yet….”

“We should name it!” She gasps.

“Oh…I already did.” Link frowns, “I named it after I got my first memory back.” He shrugs. “I”m sorry. But there are plenty of stars without names anymore. A lot of the scientific research got destroyed with the…” He stops himself, “Well you know why. No one these days even knows the constellations anymore. I’m the only one.”

“What did you name it?” Zelda smiles.

Link looks at her again, “Zelda.”

She just about passes out from flattery, smiling down at her knees which are bent into her chest, blushing a little. “That’s very nice.”

“It was my true north.” He says. “I’d have been lost without it.”

It was fully dark now, and the sky lit up with the twinkling lights, the moon was a small sliver of a crescent and hung low in the sky near the sea.

“When did you remember the constellations?” She asked.

“They come to me slowly. It was required for all knights to know them, as I’m sure you remember.” Link described, looking to the heavens again. “I still can’t think of half of them.”

“Well isn’t that one Navi?” She points to another star.

“No, that one is Navi.” Link scoots up to her level, closing the gap further between them, and takes his hand to move her arm to the right star, his calloused and scarred flesh rough against her soft skin. “That one is the top of the constellation Hylia-“

“-Hylia”

They say it together. Perfectly in tune.

Their faces turn towards one another, locking eyes. The air freezes, time itself seems to hold.

Their hearts simultaneously skip a beat, and a soft blow of warm wind passes by, brushing through their hair.

Link makes the mistake of looking at her lips and for a split second he swears she leans in, but before anything goes any further, she’s moving away and laying down next to him.

He supposes this is alright, too.

“I wonder what she thinks of all this.” Link says.

Zelda is quiet ....“I sometimes wonder if the God’s regret making man.”

“What do you mean?” Link asks, looking at her.

“Well… man is what caused the curse of the loop anyways. If it weren’t for us, Hyrule wouldn’t have to be rebuilt every ten thousand years.” She frowns. “Maybe they wish they had left their creation to rest without our feeble beings.”

“I don’t think that.” Link shakes his head. “I think they put us here because we are flawed, not in spite of it.

I think our mistakes, our sins, our curses are what makes us special. Life would be futile if we were perfect. There would be no motivation. No growth. No passion.

You cannot have good without evil, or light without dark, or joy without pain.

That’s what’s so beautiful about life. I think the God’s know that. I think they love us because of it. That is a luxury they don’t have. I see it as a gift. To live for the hope of it all.”

Link rambles, and Zelda is stunned for a moment. She turns her head to look at him, this time he’s the one with wonder-filled eyes staring up, ignoring the gaze of the other.

“I really think you should wield the triforce of wisdom.” Zelda teases.

Link looks at her, their noses almost touching. “Oh no, I’m only profound when I’m around you.” He shakes his head, giggling. “You should see me try to talk my way through Gerudo town, there's nothing wise about it.” His tone is playful, and they both laugh over it. “I accidentally told a woman she looked pregnant instead of ordering a drink at the bar.” Link explains and then says the two phrases in Gerudo, Zelda can admit they have very similar pronunciations and the both of them are full-belly laughing at the situation. Zelda asks how he managed to get out of that situation, and Link had to describe further that he was in disguise, which made everything harder to get through. Zelda couldn’t get the image of Link in a woman’s clothing out of her mind, and Link only sets her off further when he finishes the story with him getting slapped by an elderly Gerudo Woman. It isn’t much longer until she has tears welling down her face, but this time they are finally tears of laughter and joy.

When they both finally pull themselves together, Zelda smiles at him, wiping a tear from the corner of her eyes. “Thank you.” She sighs, her stomach aching from laughter.

Zelda then takes a risk, and snakes her hand in between them before wrapping it around Link’s. They don’t lock fingers, and it isn’t even necessarily classified as a romantic gesture, but she just squeezes his hand, thankful for cheering her up, thankful for reminding her that there is still hope.

There is hope in balance.

She tries to pull it away, not wanting to overstep, but Link is holding her hand tighter, keeping it in his grip. Zelda happily obliges, and they keep their hands clasped at their sides the whole night.

—

Chapter Six

#fan fiction #tloz #zelink #zelda #botw #legend of zelda #the legend of zelda #link x zelda #zelda fandom #zelda tears of the kingdom #zelda totk #zelink totk #zelink fanfic #zelink fluff #botw zelink #zelink pining #zelink smut #zelink botw #zelink angst #totk zelink #slow burn #princess zelda #zelda breath of the wild #zelda fanfic #zelda botw #link zelda #zelda fanart #zelda skyward sword #tloz tears of the kingdom #tloz fanfic

[ieatangstforbreakfast]

Pairing ೃ⁀➷ 𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝟒𝟐! 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 x Fem! Reader

Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.

Genre ೃ⁀➷ Forbidden love, mutual pining, angst♡

Tags ೃ⁀➷ Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.

Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ WHY IS THE HALLOWEEN CHAPTER PUBLISHED ON DECEMBER IDK IM SLOW, also politics yay ig— MENTIONS OF MY COUNTRY! 🇵🇭💥🇵🇭💥💪💪 Also uh VERY long chapter

Tag list ೃ⁀➷ @sakura-onesan @coffeeandtealol @luvjunie @noetophat @proudgojofucker @adorefavv @l0starl @depresssedcowboy

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎: 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭

Summary ೃ⁀➷ You and Montrell seem to share a few qualities. In the midst of talks of politics with Miles, you find yourself parted from the reality you were raised in, instead finding a new world in Spirit Halloween.

This chapter is not sponsored.

FIC MASTERLIST

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".. You should've definitely worn a coat over that."

You fiddled with your sleeve, staring comfortably past the window and out into the shining streets of Brooklyn. The comment was unnecessary , but it didn't entirely fly past your ears— in fact you swallowed it like a bad egg, making your stomach churn. As you turned your head away from the window, you're brought back to acknowledge your brother, Montrell, sitting beside you with his hand over the wheel.

"I like it as it is." You answered. "It's soft, fluffy, and big. Fragrant too." Because it belongs to Miles.

"It's the first time I've seen you wear something so.." His words trace away, but even without finishing the sentence, you knew what he meant. Unsophisticated— a little too boyish in comparison to your usual, refined clothes. The classic sort of unrefined your dearest mother taught you not to embody.

"What? It's comfortable." Was your attempt of a justification. Montrell shrugs, and you catch a twitch in his eye.

Your family had similar, refined tastes. Montrell, like you, was taught to imbue stylishness in every aspect of his life. He was often Armani-clad. Brunello Cucinelli, Hermes— and every other European household name you could recall. But in special events, he usually sported suits specially tailored to his tastes. His palette was consistently ashen, monochrome, with hints of cherry red. Like his car, which had been only recently cleaned after the staff was updated with his upcoming arrival, a slick, grey Aston Martin. It was likely the peak symbolism of his tastes.

You were never really fond of vehicles, particularly their strong, Italian leather scents (Or stench, as you called it). It was because of your sensitive nose that you often requested the seats to be replaced with anything but leather. Scentless polyester was your more preferred option. Leather alone was enough to urge your stomach to clear out your last meal, by ascending to your esophagus.

"I'm not insulting your tastes. I'm glad you're exploring new aesthetics." He manages to lure out his teeth, a compliment— a not-so-good one at that. "What is this?.. Like, street style? Grunge?.. What's that other one— e-girl, I believe? Or was it Emo?"

"You sound not twenty-five years old."

"Don't be mean. The idea of it is new to me, okay?" He clears. "I haven't seen you in three years. The last time I saw you, mom was the one in charge of your wardrobe. I only ever saw your pictures and you seemed more high-end. Saint Laurent, Dior, Dolce Gabbana."

"Those are my brands, I'm just taking a break. I'm not a walking advertisement. I don't want to get robbed in the middle of Brooklyn either."

With a three-second pause, Montrell looks at you and queried.

"Does that jacket belong to a boy?"

You sit right up, ready to defend yourself when Antonne adds. "You would have to introduce him to me immediately— I won't stand aside while some boy prances around your presence. You're sixteen, and that's a prey-able age for stupid and good-for-nothing men… Unless,” He pauses. “You’re gay.”

"What— What are you talking about!?” You feigned ignorance. “I'm not g— this is— it doesn't belong to a.. Well, it does belong to a boy, but it's my friend's jacket okay?"

Oh, the way Miles would glare at you had he been there.

"Don't try to outsmart me." He shot back. "You’ve got little to no friends.”

You parted your lips. “You’re being mean.”

“I’m only stating the truth.” He sighs. “You’re too condescending, and you hate people.”

“And your sources are what? A small interaction I had when I was twelve?”

Montrell grows uneasy a bit, tapping his nails over the thinly veiled compartment. ".. So who is he?" He starts. "From which family? Who are his parents? And how did the both of you meet?"

"That's none of your business, Mon." You sighed, running a hand across your face. "I'm not seeing him, I'm simply hanging out with another friend. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Well, it surely wouldn't hurt for me to meet this friend of yours, then? If he's not a boyfriend."

Your mouth hung open, a steady sigh escaping your lips while you sink a little deeper into your seat. As a hand runs across your cheek, you looked at Montrell as he eases the car down to a red light.

"He doesn't know that I'm a Chávez."

ＢＥＥＰ

Suddenly, you're jolted to a sudden halt— nearly flying out of your seat upon Montrell's way of hitting the brakes. You grabbed onto the board before you with widened eyes and a curse in your mouth.

He remains calm, but slightly irked.

At that moment, he pulls a finger to his lips as if to hush you. He signals with another finger as it leads up to boost the music from the radio. The song blasts, and swiftly, he takes his jug hidden by the side of his seat, unscrewing the top before pouring some of the water onto his palm, flicking at the air conditioner.

Oh, he was checking if the car was bugged.

You hold out your hand, gesturing him to give you some of the water. Together, the both of you took care of the recording devices, from the front of the wheel to the back of the car. Upon gathering all of them, you stuffed it all inside the water bottle, permanently eradicating its usage.

Finally, Montrell places his hands on the wheel and speaks.

“I want you to be honest with me, [Y/n], and cut out any of the bullshittery.”

You feared that at that moment, you and Montrell weren’t brother and sister, but rivals in a battle for power.

ＳＨＯＵＬＤ ＷＥ ＥＡＴ ＹＯＵＲ ＢＲＯＴＨＥＲ？

Your finger twitches.

Wait.

“Does he make you happy?”

The question comes off a little too similar to tasteless poison. It’s a gamble in itself— and it leaves you sitting upright and crossing your legs.

“He makes me feel alive,” Was your starter. “That’s a power no other boy could do, and it’s a rarity, since I’ve always lived for other people, but he makes me feel like I’m living for myself.”

A short hum exits his lips. “And your happiness? Does he make you happy?”

You harshly swallowed. “What difference would it make if I tell you that he does make me happy?”

Montrell’s gaze narrows a bit, the heel of his boots pressing against the gas as the green light shone. “… I ought to applaud you for your sneakiness if by now, dad still doesn’t know anything about his existence.. Unless,” Gulp. “He ordered you to spy on him.”

“And for what reason?”

“It could be anything,” His grip on the wheel tightens like the coil of a noose. “Hostage, information, any of the latter. I’m not sure why father would send you off to spy on a fifteen-year-old boy, but I’m sure the truth’s far deeper than petty business rival bullshit.”

Your mind blanks.

“It’s nothing like that. I just.. Like him, that’s all.”

“Are you sure?”

“Why would I lie to you about how much he means to me?”

“Because we’re not just siblings, [Y/n],” He whispered. “If anything, we’re not a normal family, but, I’m here for you because I think you’re a good kid, even if everyone else says you’re not.”

“Cease the speech, Mon. I’m not a good person. Stop romanticizing me.”

“But why?” He adds. “Is it because you managed the media and the hotel?”

And hearing those words, you come to face the fact that there was a reason Montrell was your father’s favorite. The effortless way he’s able to read every situation, the effortless way he managed to read through your emotions. It was a talent you could only wish for.

“It was so obvious, you know.” He chuckled. “I knew— I already knew before I came home.”

“Why?”

“Because Antonne handles things messily. He makes decisions without thinking about the consequences, and he despises planning things on the long run. Dad wouldn’t trust anyone outside the family after what happened with Mom, nor would he allow just anyone to handle such shaky affairs. It’s not like it’s beyond father’s morality to hire his own children and calling it practice.”

“What evidence do you have?”

Montrell took one look at you. “The Warehouse. It’s said that it was recently burnt, and that Antonne had to fight the Prowler, but Antonne wouldn’t have had the time to take care of all that because he was investigating you.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You spat.

“Also, no one but family takes care of the Warehouses.”

“No— I know that, fuck that. You were going to find out one way or another, but what the fuck was Antonne investigating me for?”

Your brother simply shrugs, his shoulders dropping comically.

“It was about that boy.”

“What!?” Your voice breaks a little. “Jesus fuck, what is wrong with him!?”

“Evidently, he’s worried about you.”

You snorted. “Worried!? Worried my ass!” The vulgar way you spoke caught Montrell so off-guard that he had to look at you twice to check if you were still the same person. “I’d rather believe the world’s ending. Antonne and I stopped being siblings the moment he dropped responsibility for all those who were killed, forcing me to step up and do damage control because Dad stopped trusting everyone else.”

“Well, that’s understandable.”

“Plus, there’s nothing to be worried about. The boy I’m meeting he’s.. He’s just.. I like him. That’s it. I know it’s hard to believe since most of the time I’m a conniving bitch, but I genuinely, wholeheartedly like him. Like how a normal teenage girl ought to like a boy.”

Montrell hums. “… Alright, I’ll believe you. It’s not too far off from unusual, when I’m also facing a similar issue.”

You blinked. “What do you mean by that?”

“… You see, [Y/n], I’ve got also got a girl for myself.” He announced so suddenly. “Met her at Oxford. Like your boy, she bore no idea of who I was.. Who I am, and understandably, and I know you know about this too— but it’s a refreshing feeling to not be recognized as the potential inheritor of a business empire.”

You part your lips, processing the information with confusion all over your expression. “But— there were no reports of you being in a relationship.”

“Of course there weren’t,” He laughs. “I had her carefully hidden from everyone’s sights.”

And that could mean two things. You didn’t want to think of the latter.

“Maybe it’s genetic,” Montrell added, turning the wheel. “Father, mother, me, Antonne, you. Making stupid decisions for stupid ideals— rather, stupid romance. It’s frightening to think how Malachi’s going to inherit our tendencies.”

“I’m not,” Your heart raged within the cage of your ribs. “I’m not like that to him. I can never allow myself to trap him.”

“You can either be one of them.” Montrell sighed. “Mom or dad, I mean.”

The good ol’ bird or the cage.

“But I won’t be able to stand by and watch when that does happen,” He straightens his lips. “I can’t let anything happen to you.”

You can hear the voice whisper back in your mind.

“Which is why I’ve got to meet.. [Y/n]?”

Your hands slithered up against your ears in an attempt to block out the voice.

“[Y/n], are you okay?”

You gasped for air, a familiar voice taunting you like the one from your dreams. Except, this one didn’t speak like the voice of the symbiote, rather, it endowed this sweet allure as though it could sing you a lullaby to sleep.

Before the symbiote, there was someone else who plagued your thoughts and mind and actions.

Before the symbiote, there was your mother.

“Stop the car.” You croaked, palms still over your ears. Montrell speaks, but his words were blurred out into the void of nothingness. The more he speaks, the more your mind shreds itself into pieces. After a long second of thinking, Montrell finally pulls up by the sidewalk, taking his hands off the wheel and pulling one in front of you. He waves it hesitantly, snapping you from your thoughts.

“Breathe, [Y/n], breathe.”

“I-I,” You lengthily stammered. “Mon, I’m sorry, but can I go?” As he’s about to answer, you add. “I’ll introduce you another day, I promise, I just, I need to be alone right now.”

“But isn’t it unsafe? We’re in the slums, you’ll never know how—“

“Mon, I can fight.” You ended the conversation with that alone. Hesitantly, he nods and unlocks the door. You reach for the handle, moving along with the click as you turned to leave.

“Can you at least message me when I can pick you up?”

You looked over to Montrell.

“… Okay.”

ＳＬＡＭ.

“Miles!”

And he could already hear you from a block away, jogging with steady and loud steps.

Without even looking up from his phone, he unconsciously opened his arms to welcome you with an embrace— closing in immediately upon your arrival. You felt like you were going to stain his jacket with your glossed lips, but you barely managed to care anymore at this point, as this hug was beyond a need. You clung onto his neck, burying your aching head into the nape of his collar, taking in this familiar scent of spice and wood. A subtle homage, or a reminder of your older brother, Montrell.

What was it about men and their perfume?

It felt like you hadn’t seen Miles in such a long, long time. It was like you were a child who’d parted from their favorite blanket for a little too long that it made you uneasy. You liked the world and space you had between his arms— it was your warmth, your only true home, and it was yours.

All yours.

“What’s wrong?” He cooed, simpering around with you in his arms.

“I just want to stay like this for a moment.” You whispered. “I need to steal the warmth off of you.”

“Well, nena, why are you only wearing my hoodie? It’s so cold out.”

“It’s not that.”

Miles’ ears metaphorically perked up upon hearing you sniffle.

“Who the fuck hurt you? I’ll kill ‘em.”

Your lips curved into a smile.

Oh, Miles, you can’t possibly kill off a multi-million dollar industry.

“Can you kill a car, then? My brother drove me here and his car’s smell made me age twenty years,” You grumbled. “I’m boutta die at thirty-seven, I swear.”

“Your brother?” He lightly jolts away, eyes journeying from road to road in search of him. “God, where is he? Is he here?”

And at that moment, Miles subsequently fixes his posture, his words suddenly endowing some strange sort of politeness. You nudge at his shoulder, “I told him to drop me off somewhere else. I didn’t want him to meet you yet.”

“Awe,” He pouted. “Well, that’s aight. I’m gonna dress up real nice when I meet your family.”

“Uhuh,” You laughed. “And what are you going to be wearing?”

“I’m gonna borrow my unc’s suit, and I’ll talk business with yo father.”

“Only business you’ll be discussing with my father is your damn funeral, Miles. My papa don’t want me out here dating, that’s why he put me in private school.”

“With a face like yours?” He smugly grinned. “Your daddy’s kinda underestimating the power of your pretty face.”

“Oh, so you like me ‘cause I’m pretty?”

“Pretty fucking unbearable, that’s what you is.” The boy joked. “M’just kidding. I like you because you’re pretty much everything to me.”

Despite the fluttering of your stomach, you persevered with your little game. “Doesn’t answer anything— what do you like about me? Did you like my face or my personality?”

“I liked you ‘cause of your pretty face, and stayed for your amazing personality.” He answered as though he’d been preparing for the question his whole life.

“Amazing personality?”

“Extravaganza bonanza personality.”

“I’m not a banana split sundae, Miles.”

“Might as well should be with yo damn split personality.”

Your hands dangle away, Miles unconsciously attempts to reach for it but instead accepts defeat when you held his hand. “So where are we going for halloween spirit, exactly?”

“Halloween spirit?” He queried.

“Yeah, didn’t ya mention something about being in halloween spirit?”

Miles paused, holding back a loud laugh in the middle of the street. “My girl, I said I was in Spirit Halloween.”

“What the fuck is a Spirit Halloween?”

“Holy shit,” He verbalized. “You’re in for a scare, nena.”

And he meant those words a little too literally.

Growing up, it wasn’t within your household to make halloween one of your yearly traditions. Your father deemed it unnecessary, while your mother was anything but fun (Same difference, really). Your brothers have celebrated halloween, one way or another, but since you were the child closest to your mother, you were anything but free of her beliefs.

So being greeted with a large, bloodied skeleton first-thing upon entering the building was a first for you.

“WHAT THE HELL IS EVEN THAT!?”

Miles simply explodes into laughter, holding his phone up just to record your reaction. You fall right back, hand still holding onto his. “Come on, nena, you can do it, let’s get past the entrance.”

“Miles, what in THE FUCK is that!?”

“Don’t be mean to your brother, ma.” He attempts to drag you inside as you sat down by the floor with petrification scribbled all over your face. “[Y/n], come on, introduce me to the rest of your family.”

“FUCK YOU!” You whisper-yelled.

“It’s not even moving yet, come on, [Y/n].”

“THAT’S SUPPOSED TO MOVE!?”

After managing to drag you past the animatronics (Which Miles described was a work out in itself), the both of you marveled at the isle where all the costumes were, skimming through the racks and looking at each and every picture. “Oh, Miles— look at this,” You pluck one out, the hanger dangling from your fingers. “It’s Emily from the corpse bride! Shit, I haven’t seen the movie since I was eight.”

“Look at this one, Ma, this shit’s so you.”

He pulls out an Elsa costume.

“Even got the white ass wig and everythin’.” He giggles as you playfully smacked his arm. “Let it go. Let it go.”

“Shut up.”

“Can’t hold this shit anymore!~”

“MILES.”

“LET IT GO!”

You tried to hush out his horrible singing, but the way he giggled was so infectious that you couldn’t help but giggle yourself. When bystanders started walking past the both of you with weird ogles in their gazes, you couldn’t help but put your hand over your mouth to muffle your laughing.

“Puñeta,” Miles added, pulling out a fucking teenage mutant ninja turtles costume. “You’ve got to fucking try this, ma.”

“Miles—“ You couldn’t even continue a sentence without wheezing.

You did eventually find a costume— unlike the original plan, the both of you couldn’t find a medieval patient dying of the bubonic plague, but Miles did manage to find a dark priestess costume along with a plague doctor costume.

“We’re like business partners. The patients go to me, and when they die, you send them off.” Was what he said.

“Wouldn’t that make you a really horrible doctor?”

“Doctor’s still a doctor, ma. I mean, it’s the police’s job to protect all of us but if that’s really the case, they’re doing a pretty fucking horrible job at it, but hey, we still call them the police.”

You looked at the mirror, watching the confusion materialize over your face as you heard Miles’ rant behind the curtain. As you clumsily tried on your costume inside the changing room, you couldn’t help but ask. “What makes you say that? That they’re doing a horrible job at protecting y’all?”

As you zipped up the bolero, you hear Miles’ curtain open.

“Well, Ma, brutality’s been upper than hell compared to the last few decades, so’s poverty. For the last four years, the economy’s been going downhill, which made us have a recession. ‘Cause of that, a lot of the cops had to kiss up some of the wealthy folks’ asses to keep their jobs.”

“So that makes them corrupt?”

“That makes them desperate,” He alluded. “No one wants to die of starvation, and they all have families to feed. It’s divide and conquer, really.”

“Divide and conquer?— oops,” You pick up the fallen headdress from the floor. “Expand on that.”

Miles hums a bit. “Imagine the crab mentality. I’ve read about it before for a philosophy research, and it’s a term used in the Philippines. Put a fuck ton of crabs in a bucket. You’re gonna see the crabs drag each other down in order to pull themselves up, but in the end, none of them ain’t gonna reach the top.

Because the true problem was never the crabs, it was the person who put those crabs inside the bucket in the first place. Same goes for us, the poor. We all have to fend for ourselves so we put others down— because if we’re too busy surviving, we don’t have to pay no attention to the rich who put us all inside the damn bucket in the first place.”

The way he described it was so familiar.

It was like he was describing you with your siblings.

ＨＥ’Ｓ ＳＭＡＲＴ. Ｉ ＬＩＫＥ ＨＩＭ.

Hearing the symbiote’s approval echo in your mind, you couldn’t help but smirk.

He’s not just smart. He’s a genius.

ＤＯＮ’Ｔ　ＯＶＥＲＰＲＡＩＳＥ　 ＨＩＭ,

ＳＷＥＥＴＨＥＡＲＴ

Don’t call me that, ever.

His experiences and your experiences were similar despite being so contradictory, and it didn’t make sense. You were rich, so extraordinarily wealthy that the recession was never a part of your problem, hell, the decline of the economy was never your problem— and Miles was struggling along with his family to keep themselves afloat.

And you could never put yourself in his shoes, as you knew nothing of the loss he felt.

But the both of you were kids in line to shape the future, and if the generational trauma ever continued, you’d only end up the oppressor, but you knew, Miles was going to tear himself apart from the title of ‘victim’, and he was going to stand up against you— maybe not now, maybe not tomorrow,

But soon, as villain versus hero.

You pushed the curtain away, unveiling the costume to Miles.

But rather than seeing him, he was nowhere to be found.

You lifted the veil, stepping out of the dressing room to take a peek at him, but you couldn’t find any trace of his broad-shouldered figure anywhere. You softly called out for his name, head spinning from constantly turning. Your feet took you forward. You try ignore the giggly and bloodily-clad animatronics whose haunting stares scared you far worse than any unwanted confrontation with any of your family members.

And there he was, talking to a girl.

That sort of closeness— the way they spoke. Laughing, catching up, or something like that. Acquaintances? Friends, maybe?

Something ugly pricked at your skin from within.

ＨＵＮＧＲＹ.

Montrell’s words began to spiral inside your mind. ‘Father, mother, me, Antonne, you. Making stupid decisions for stupid ideals— rather, stupid romance.’

ＨＵＮＧＲＹ.

The feeling seared your veins, making you dig your nails into the bed of your palm. Your knuckles quivered from the intensity, like a sort of anger you felt when you saw any of your elder brothers being praised for the bare minimum, except.. This one felt different.

ＨＵＮＧＲＹ.

You watched the way her braids fell, wondering if you could pull it off with such grace. High society’s always been too picky, which forced you to drown out most of your interests, but now you couldn’t help but feel a little envious. You wanted to wear the clothes you wanted to wear, try out the makeup you wanted to try.

It felt like your mother’s shadow was being cast on you, making you embody the very phase you feared, your mother’s daughter—

and like your mother, you were quick to get jealous.

And it devoured you, whole.

You faltered, taking a step back before fully pivoting your heel and running off back to the dressing room. You shut the curtain behind you, only now finding the symbiote staring right at you through the mirror— its grotesque body mirroring your move.

“For a girl who knows how to handle most of her emotions, you can’t seem to handle jealousy well.”

“I’m not jealous. I’m just tired.”

“And I’m Sofia Vergara.“

“How the fuck do you know who Sofia Vergara is?”

“Memories, my dear.”

You felt a surge of panic take course of you.

“This is unhealthy. I can’t be like this, I don’t even know who she is.” You exasperatedly murmured. “I need to calm down— Miles and I aren’t even official yet.”

“Exactly, so be the lady that you are and introduce yourself, damn it. You have no friends.”

“I have friends.” You seethed. “I’m popular as hell in Acadia.”

“If I had a dollar for every friend you have, I’d be the one giving you a poverty rant.”

“[Y/n]?” Miles pulled you out of your thoughts yet again.

“Y-Yeah?” You called out, whipping your head back. “You done?” He asks, shuffling a bit. You hesitantly open the curtain to reveal yourself, your sights eventually welcoming the image of Miles dressed in all black— with a long, beak-like mask over his head. As you were too busy trying to find his little acquaintance, Miles gawks at you from behind his heavy façade.

The faux black silk draped over your curves seamlessly, the crimson of the bolero gleaming beneath the light as it contrasted against the dress. You lifted the veil past the dark crown like a bride, lashes fanning up to meet him by his gaze.

“Oh, wow.” He sighed. “Wow, you— the woman that you are.”

There was something about the way he looked at you.

It was like you were all that consumed his mind and being. Nonetheless, it was the truth.

But even now, as Miles held out his hand for you to hold, you couldn’t help but wonder how many times he’ll look at you like this until it manifests from love into something else.

“It’s a halloween costume, Miles, not a wedding dress. I can’t possibly be lookin’ all that great.” You took his hand, drawing closer to the mask. “God, you look like a big bird.”

Lost in the way you looked, Miles’ hands unconsciously trailed around your waist, looking down on you with a dumb stare that you couldn’t fathom. Suddenly, the both of you were disrupted by an abrupt cough. You both turn your heads, finding the same girl you’d seen him talking to just a few minutes ago.

“Hey,” She beamed, waving her hand at you. “Hope I ain’t disturbing anything?”

“You definitely were.” Miles’ gaze narrowed. The girl laughed, her white grin wide like a crescent moon. You couldn’t help but think, she’s got such a pretty smile.

“Mind introducing me, Miles?”

With a hand still on your waist, Miles gestures towards you. “This is my lady,”

“[Y/n],” You held out your hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Both Miles and the girl stared at your open palm.

“Wow, ain’t she prim and proper? Like a princess.” She teased, accepting your hand. “I’m Amadi, nice to meet you too.”

Her palm was warm and smooth, decorated by the lacey sleeve of her periwinkle sweater. She stood in heeled boots, a couple inches taller than you— an inch or two off of Miles’ height. As she shook your hand, the girl couldn’t help but helplessly marvel at you as though you were a statue carved from marble.

“God, how in the hell did you land on Miles? You’re just,” Amadi’s hands airily traced your figure. “You’re just wow. I-Is Miles keeping you hostage or sum? You don’t look nuthin like human. You look outta this world.”

“Thank,” You stifled a laugh. “Thank you?”

“I can hear you, Madi.” Miles churned.

“M’just stating truths ‘cause—“ She clicks her long, acrylic nails. “Why she be lookin’ outta this world while you’s lookin like you snuck onto earth?”

You placed a hand over your mouth, trying your hardest, you very hardest, not to laugh. Miles pulled you back away from her with a disintegrating glare.

“Tu puta madre,” He spat. “.. Go back to Monique.”

“Monique?”

“Mi novia— love of my life, we’re off halloween shopping too. Gotta big date tomorrow, we gon be watching horror movies n shi.” Amadi added, decisively looking around. “Speaking of which, Ionno where she went.”

“She might be with Voshon.” Miles piqued.

“Voshon?” Your head started to spin with the amount of new names you were processing. “That’s a.. Interesting name.”

“Mama was gonna name him Joshua, but my dad wanted to combine or grandparents’ names together, so— Vaughn and Shontelle.. Voila, Voshon.”

“Oh, he’s your brother?” You queried. Amadi hums. “Unfortunately. I mean, I’d always preferred being an only child but we all don’t get what we want most of the time.“

“Oh, I definitely get that.”

“No way, you got brothers too?”

“Yeah, I’m the only girl.”

“Can’t imagine the mess in your house, damn.. Hey!”

Amadi soon joins a pair, one with a much brighter and pinker style and the other satisfied with a mere hoodie for marking a fashion statement. You fiddled with the skirt of your dress, evidently nervous as a million thoughts flooded your mind. You weren’t the friendliest person out there, nor were you the most likable out of all your siblings.

It was never easy for you to make friends. Too many found you overbearing, the rest condescending. Your position was overwhelming enough for any other person your age, and those who knew about you were ambitious to make connections and forge deals.

What if they won’t like me?

What if I mess up?

What if I come off as too condescending?

But Miles took your hand, grabbing your attention from the spur of your overthinking. He took off his mask, easing you with the familiarity. One look at him and home found its way back to you.

“You wanna meet ‘em, ma?” He asks.

With an anxious smile, you nodded.

“Of course.”

And like a whirlwind into the night, you were off.

For the first time, you part yourself entirely from the world you knew and entered Miles’ world.

“Oh, hello!” Bubbly and sweet, Monique greeted you with such warmth that it melted away all your previous worries. “Oh my god— don’t tell me,” She glances over to Amadi for confirmation. “Are you the [Y/n] Miles always talks about!?“

“Nica— please—“

“You ARE!”

She spoke of you as though you’d been a legend told to the latter, like a tooth fairy. “It’s so nice to finally meet you! We’ve been dying to meet you and– wow, you’re gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” Your cheeks were bound to be flushed. “I think you’re very pretty too. I-I really like your hair and your makeup, it’s super well done.”

“Awe, thank you so much!” She placed a hand over your heart, wholeheartedly touched by your compliment. Monique looks at Miles with a pout.

“… Miles, can you fight?”

“Fuck you mean ‘Can you fight?’, I will square you the fuck up r’now.”

His friends were sweet— welcoming without the need of a surname. Monique, with her free and silk-like curls, was a firecracker who liked glitter on her lids and her nails and her clothes. Amadi was ever-so loving of her, despite preferring black and chains for her aesthetic. The two girls were a stark contrast of one another— and unsurprisingly, Monique already had her mermaid costume prepared and was just helping out Amadi pick her Dracula ensemble.

Voshon, although quieter, was one you recognized as similarly withdrawn and reserved like Miles when the both of you first met. Amadi described him to be a total nerd, and quirky— later proven when he and Miles chased each other with fake swords, running across the aisles while exchanging hits.

When Voshon tosses over the sword to you, however, chaos truly ensued.

“GO GET HIM!” The girls cheered as you and Miles managed to create a questionable chase scene of a Priestess holding a Minecraft sword chasing after a Plague Doctor with a scythe. Onlookers couldn’t help but watch on as the both of you squabbled.

Like a livid cat and its cheesy mouse.

“Esto en un mamey. You too fuckin’ slow!” He teased in between a heave. “Can’t catch me for shit!”

Shit went down as you bent over to take off your boots.

“That ain’t changing, nun— aye puta.” Miles narrowly avoids one of the shoes that came flying at his direction. He looks over like a child in awe, head following the direction of wherever it went.

“I never knew you were Latina, mam– MIERDA LOCO, CEBOLLA COÑO!” And a couple other curses exit his tongue as you tackled him to the ground with a loud crash.

You let a hearty, chesty giggle escape your lips. The adrenaline got you cackling like a comical villain, that even Miles couldn’t help but laugh helplessly along with you. Seeing you like that, with your hair all wild and your smile at its wildest, it softened his whole being.

“… You’re so pretty, mami.” He airily sighed with a cough to the side.

“.. Sure.” Was all you could answer.

And of course, after getting an earful from the staff, you and Miles finally ended your tiny sword-fighting sequence. After changing out of the costumes, all five of you prompted to test out the animatronics.

It was about taking turns.

“AYE, MAMAHUEVO.”

And it was also when you realized, Amadi was Dominican.

You learned a lot of Spanish that day, especially from one step of a button to activate an animatronic.

Everyone’s mouths were.. Extraordinarily filthy.

But you liked it— from watching bursting and spinning animatronics screaming bloody murder at you, to going around talking about all kinds of things with his friends.

“God, I’ve always wanted one of those.” Amadi points at the lace parasol one of the mannequins were holding. “It’s so Morticia Addams.”

“Well, maybe you should get it.” You suggest. “It’d look great with your vampire costume.”

Amadi sighed. “I only got money for the costume, can’t buy sum like that. Maybe I’ll just DIY it with my nana’s old umbrella.”

You squinted a tiny bit, eyeing the sign that announced in bold lettering: $16.99.

And for privileged little you, the sixteen was just change for a hundred dollar bill, which made you inadvertently blurt out. “I can pay.”

“Nah, girlie, it’s gon’ take me whole two to three months ‘fore I can afford to pay you back.”

“I mean, it’s fine—“ You realized just how spoiled you were sounding. “I recently got my paycheck so I guess I can buy you something.”

“Where do you work, though?” Monique added, clinging onto your other hand as the left one was occupied by Miles. “Like do you work at a café or a restaurant?”

“Family business,” You vaguely replied. “Boring stuff. But my dad pays me well enough, so I guess I can live with it— so maybe I can pay for that.”

“No, no, no.” Amadi answered, accent thick. “Really, we can pay for it ourselves.”

But you couldn’t ignore it. Not when you could see Miles openly contemplating on buying the costume or not— as he’s been fiddling with the price tag the whole time you two were walking. And you’ve seen the way Voshon’s been eyeing the diamond sword for a while now.

So you made up your mind.

“I’m just gonna go to the bathroom for a moment— can you hold this for me, Miles?” You gently nudged your costume towards him before walking away without another word. As you did so, the group gawked in confusion.

“… Where’s she going? The bathroom’s that way.”

Ring. Ring. Ring.

“Hello, this is Mr. Chávez’s office, how may I help you?”

A simple, roundabout greeting, said over and over for the last few years. Usually followed by a “No, he’s not available at the moment” or a “I’ll take word”, but for the first time, the secretary stammers in embarrassment with her nails clutching onto the phone for dear life. The old man behind the wide, glass doors took note of his poor assistant’s sudden faltering, yet he maintains naturally unfazed.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll put him on the phone with you right this instant.”

Stumbling in her high heels, the secretary staggers inside the man’s office with the whole telephone in her hand.

“Sir, you’ve got an important call.”

“I’m busy, Nicole.”

“It’s your daughter— Miss [Y/n]?” She uttered your name as though you’d materialize out of thin air after chanting it three times. She was horrified of you.

With a click of his tongue, your father picks up the phone.

“What do you want?” He instantly asks of you.

“Dad, remember how you’ve always claimed that the celebration of halloween is unnecessary?”

Without even uttering an answer, you decisively went on.

“Well, in November, there is a tremendously large spike of sales when it comes to anything horror-related. It’s always been capitalist to clad November as a scary month in order to convince people to buy into scary things—“ He hears something tumble in the background. “— and since late October to early November is usually one of the hotel’s lowest months, I figured my proposal would be a perfect proxy for my apology for the way I acted during dinner.”

You didn’t even know what you were talking about at this point, but you were willing to try.

“.. What are you talking about?” He snaps.

“Well, I—“ You hesitated a bit. “I researched a bit, and I’ve come with an unsure solution.”

“What is it?”

“… Can we buy Spirit Halloween?”

#miles morales #42 miles morales #42 miles morales x reader #astv miles #astv x you #astv x reader #miles morales x reader #astv x y/n #miles morales x you #astv #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 prowler #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles morales x female reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #miles morales prowler #miles morales x y/n #prowler miles #miles morales 1610

[bonny-kookoo]

Hi love the tongue tied series but i have a feeling that taehyung won't like what he sees when he takes the oc to her apartment

When he opens the place you're living in, he's confused. This doesn't look at all what he would've thought a place for a hybrid like you would look like. It's almost.. sterile looking. Like a place set up for display in a magazine.

There's no color, no signs of life. The furniture is white and grey, the small kitchen isn't secured at all for a hybrid of your category, and neither is there any form of safety in place for other potentially dangerous items, such as the cabinets containing knifes or the small oven and microwave. It's a miracle you've been fine until now, considering the fact that you're left unsupervised after dinner until morning according to staff.

But maybe there's more to this entire situation.

"What do you do first when you get ready for bed?" Taehyung wonders. "Can you show me?"

You nod at that, walking towards the kitchen where you open a cabinet, getting down a mug before you move to fill an electric kettle with water to boil. Everything you do in this moment makes him question the fundamentals of your position in this whole 'plan'. A category five hybrid doesn't typically care for themselves like this, can't be left alone for as long as you are, doesn't verbally communicate no matter how well. And yet here you are, making yourself tea all on your own, quietly humming to yourself a song he doesn't recognize.

"You?" Your voice sounds out, and his eyes widen for a second as he realizes you're referring to him. It's just how Jungkook had explained; he can definitely make out what you're saying, but its not very clear like he himself would pronounce it. It's somehow as if you've never been properly taught those words, but have simply started to imitate their sound instead.

No matter what, it doesn't make sense to him why you'd do that as such a high category hybrid.

"Me?" He wonders, walking closer, smiling as your tail starts to wag with every step he takes closer to you.

"You-" you nod, before pointing towards a mug in the cabinet. "You?" You ask again.

"Ah-" he chuckles. "Sure, thank you." He offers, letting you happily make him a cup of tea as well. "Do you do this a lot?" He asks. "Things like making tea, I mean?"

You nod, carefully pouring the boiling water into the mugs. It's clear that you have to concentrate on the task a lot more than he would, but still- you manage just fine. "Eat." You say, before thinking, it seems. "I.. make. Food" you try and explain. "For.. me." You tell Taehyung, and he's now entirely sure that there has to be something wrong with your category.

"You make yourself food?" He asks, and you nod.

"I make myselfood." You try and repeat, though its clear you're more or less imitating rather than using separate words. Still, Namjoon will be interested in that behavior, Taehyung thinks to himself.

He can't wait to tell him.

"But staff said you need a lot of help." He asks, sitting down at the table with you.

"No." You shake your head, before thinking again, leaning your head to the side. "Bit? Small." You say, making a pinching motion with your fingers.

"Well that's pretty amazing." He praises, taking your mug down again as you try and instantly drink. "Wait a little, it's gonna be really hot." He gently explains, and you nod, putting it down with his help. "Were you alone alot at the carecenter?" He wants to know, and you shrug.

Before you nod.

"Do you like being on your own?" He asks. "Hoseok and Yoongi like to be alone sometimes too." He offers, but you shake your head.

"No." You answer, looking down into your cup before you rest your head sideways onto your arm on the table, huffing in defeat. "But.. have."

"Why do you have to?" He questions, hand reaching out to scratch one of your ears- something that instantly gets your tail to wag, and your eyes to close. You seem absolutely touch-starved.

"Too.." you seem to search for a proper word. "Much. Me, too much."

"Who said that?" He almost angrily wants to know, protective instincts flaring up.

"All."

"Hm that's a lie though." He reassures. "You're not too much for me, or any of the other guys, promise." He tells you, and you look at him at that, eyes sparkling in happiness.

"Like?" You ask. "Me?"

"Of course we like you." He chuckles. "We all do, don't worry about that." He tells you, and you nod at that, seemingly energized. "Now come on, drink your tea, and then we'll get ready for bed alright?" He explains.

"Stay?" You ask. "Tae, Stay?" You ask, and he shrugs, before deciding to just do what be does best- what he wants.

"Sure." He nods-

and the smile you send him is definitely worth all the angry managers that're gonna come for him tomorrow.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #taehyung imagine #hybrid imagine

[lumiereswig]

Beauty and the beast but the people who are normally the good guys are evil

heheheheheheee I actually have a playlist called “evil batb” I listen to when I am ready to be wicked and commit crimes

Agatha cursed Adam at the last moment not as a sort of justice from hell measure but because he was about to crush her windpipe. sometimes self defense has to be a spell you set with your own blood. she crumples to the floor, dead, as Adam grows bones and claws and nails and teeth—and teeth—and teeth—and teeth….

In this timeline, a girl who might have just once been a dreaming bookworm has gone mad with loneliness, her heart a husk of what it was. she had a mother once, who died. she had a father once, who lived, staring at nothing, his fingers tinkering with gears that never fit. the magic and adventure never came. and when she hears there's a monster in the woods, she thinks I can turn my loneliness to some good measure. I'll go and kill the beast. Maybe then someone here in this village will take me as I am, if I finally have blood on my hands.

why was Adam trying to kill Agathe? because he doesn't trust magic, never has. What good is magic if the people you love can die and they do nothing to stop it? Agathe could have kept his mother from dying. Agathe could have stopped his father, any chance she had. but loneliness and anger creates more loneliness and anger, and in his desire to kill the last magic thing in the forest he becomes it, himself, roaring through the hallways and filling the rooms with a shaggy, aching rage.

Belle shows up and these two souls who don't have one good thing to say about the rest of the world start trying to kill each other—Adam because he has nothing left to be but a beast; Belle because she has nothing left to be but a slayer.

the staff are evil too!! oh my god they’re all so bad! but they’re bad in like, the campy tim curry ooo I’m evil because I wear leather kind of way. they’re bad like muppets. plumette throws knives lumiere wears thigh-highs cogsworth plots and schemes on like, how to set the table with purple napkins instead of white. in a previous life mrs. potts was a master assassin. they're all so busy dancing to lady gaga and being gay they never get around to actually committing any crimes.

what’s Gaston doing here? Gaston is simply a Man of the People! He’s been put down Too Long! he is in love with Belle and entirely unknowing that she’s got a heart made of holes. he's big into examining himself from a "safe and healthy perspective" and discussing every aspect of his personality in therapy but hasn't actually noticed that Belle is lonely or, uhh, not here anymore because she went to kill the monster in the woods and that was five weeks ago.

as naturally happens when two angry toxic people with precisely the same cocktail of loneliness meet, Adam and Belle segue quickly from trying to kill each other to, oopsie, relating over their shared griefs and maybe actually finding solace in each other. Are they in a healthy relationship? Absolutely not! Oh my god nobody go near them! They're surrounded by evil gay furniture why would you even want to! But they are what the other one needs, in this broken and fragile state, and I don't think anyone should fault them for holding onto each other, if it's the only life raft they have, as they patch their broken pieces in the only ways they know how. No one wants to be wicked. Some just have shadows that grow longer, and need a little sun to light the way.

So maybe they're damned. It's not a bad thing to be damned together.

#stretching my limbs back into writing by trying a few posts and purposely being REAL BAD #asks #batb headcanon #this is not good! oh well it's here #beauty and the beast #batb 2017

[mattalit]

Will Byers x Male Reader

A/N: i can’t stand wattpad anymore so i’m moving the stories i actually like here lol

Length: 1.1 k

Originally Published: July 30, 2019

CW: mild homophobia

The phone rings and grabs the attention of Mike Wheeler and Lucas Sinclair away from the Dungeon and Dragons game Will had waited so, so long to play.

"No!" Will jumps up and smashes the end of his staff on the ground. "A distraction! Do not answer it."

Mike and Lucas look at each other, then both jump up and head straight for the phone. Mike reaches it first.

"El?"

Will is visibly disappointed; his face and shoulders droop and he lets out an exasperated sigh. (M/N) gets up from his seat and stretches before putting his arm around Will.

"We can play later, man. They're no fun when they're preoccupied," (M/N) states. Will says nothing.

"No-- sorry, not interested," Mike says into the phone before hanging up and turning around. He lets out a breath of air and rolls his eyes. "Telemarketers."

"Maybe you should just call them," Lucas suggested.

"You can do that?"

"I think so."

"Yeah, but-- what would we say?"

"We'll say nothing!" Will interjects, smashing the end of his staff into the floor again. "The Kuzar Tribe still needs your help!" He motions to the table where the now abandoned D&D games sits.

"Yeah, come on, fellas, we haven't played in weeks," (M/N) adds, slowly moving his arm from Will's shoulders and absent-mindedly scratching light circles into his back. Will glances at him, but his attention is back to Mike when he begins speaking.

"Alright then," Mike responds, and off-handedly motions towards the table, "I'll use my torch to set fire to the chambers, sacrificing ourselves, killing the JuJus, and saving Kuzar. We all live on as heroes in the memory of the Kalamar."

"Victory," Lucas says, uninterested. He puts his hand up and Mike high-fives him.

"Okay," Will pulls out of (M/N)'s grasp and turns around, "Fine." He roughly shoves his staff into a chair and rips his hat off. "You guys win." He turns off the dramatic music. "Congratulations."

"Will... we were just messing around."

Will takes off his purple wizard cloak and sets it down. (M/N) looks over at him, but doesn't say anything.

"Let's finish for real," Mike continues. "How much longer is the game?"

"Just forget it, Mike!" Will continues packing up his stuff.

"Will..." (M/N) calls out silently. Will does not respond.

Mike tries for peace, again-- "We want to keep playing, right?" He motions towards Lucas.

"Uh, yeah, totally," Lucas stammers out.

"We can call the girls afterwards."

"I said FORGET IT, Mike, okay?" Will yells, turning towards him. Mike looks back at him, but doesn't respond. "I'm going home." Will heads towards the stairs.

"Come on, Will!" Will shoves past Lucas and exits up the stairs.

It's quiet for a moment, then (M/N) sighs and follows after him. "Good job, guys," he murmurs as he passes Lucas and Mike.

Lucas sighs in exasperation and sits down. Mike follows Will and (M/N).

The rain pours heavily onto the ground as Will, (M/N), and Mike exit the front door.

"Will, come on," Mike pleads. "You can't leave, it's raining."

Will doesn't respond.

"Listen, I said I was sorry, alright? It's a cool campaign--"

"Really cool!" (M/N) adds.

"--we're just not in the mood right now."

Will turns around. "Yeah, Mike, that's the problem. You guys are never in the mood anymore. You're ruining our party."

"That's not true!"

"Really? Where's Dustin right now?" Mike looks away guiltily and doesn't respond. "See? You don't know, and you don't even care, and obviously he doesn't either, and I don't blame him. You're destroying everything! And for what? So you can swap spit with some stupid girl?"

"El is not stupid! It's not my fault you don't like girls!" Mike retorts.

The change in atmosphere was instantaneous. The cold realization of just what Mike had said seeped into each teen. It was silent.

Will stared at Mike, his facial expression unreadable. Mike stared back.

"Look... I'm not trying to be a jerk, okay?" Mike's voice had softened. "But we're not kids anymore. I mean-- what did you think? That we were never going to get girlfriends? That we were just going to sit in my basement and play games for the rest of our lives?"

"Yeah," Will sniffs, "Maybe I did. I really did."

Will hops onto his bike and takes off down the road. (M/N) scrambles towards his bike.

"Nice going, Wheeler. Mentioning the thing he's sensitive about." (M/N) takes off after Will.

"Will? (M/N)? Guys, come on!" Mike calls after them.

By the time (M/N) had caught up with Will, both Will and him were soaked.

"Will?" (M/N) called out, approaching Will's fort in the woods.

"What do you want?" a small voice called out from the fort.

(M/N) didn't respond, instead choosing to enter the fort. He pushed his wet hair out of his eyes and sat down next to Will. All was quiet, except for the pouring rain.

"Do you want to talk about it?" (M/N) asked quietly, looking over to his friend. Will shook his head no. (M/N) scooted closer, and whispered. "Do you want a hug?" Will hesitated, but nodded.

(M/N), despite being soaked, wrapped an arm around the smaller boy's frame and pulled him close. Will responded by leaning his head onto his shoulder.

Will looked down at the photos in his hand, but threw them into a corner of the fort, soon forgotten.

"You know Mike and Lucas didn't mean to make you upset, yeah?" (M/N) murmured, rubbing Will's arm soothingly and leaning his head on top of Will's.

"I know," Will mumbled back.

"You didn't do anything wrong, either."

"I know." Will snuggled closer into the boy next to him. "I did't think he'd bring it up, though," he mumbled.

"Bring what up?"

"That I... y'know... don't like girls."

"I mean, it's not his fault you don't like girls, but it's not yours either. There was no reason for him to bring it up," (M/N) responded. "Honestly-- the audacity..." (M/N) paused. "But on the topic of that, I suppose there's something I should tell you."

Will waited for (M/N) to finish, but he never did. Will pulled back and made eye contact with (M/N).

"(M/N)?"

"Yeah?"

"What were you going to tell me?"

"Will..." (M/N) paused again. He crawled towards to him, pushing him slowly towards the ground and straddling him. "I..." He mumbled something.

"What?" Will asked, breathlessly. He had never been this close to another boy before.

(M/N) leaned down to his ear and whispered. "I don't like girls, either."

Will could feel (M/N)'s breath on his neck, and he could feel it leave his neck when (M/N) leaned back. He sat up quickly, almost smacking his head against (M/N)'s.

"(M/N)," he called out softly.

"Will," (M/N) whispered, eyeing his lips.

"I think I like you."

(M/N) smiled lightly and cupped Will's face with his hands. He leaned in slowly, watching as Will, mesmerized, followed his lead. "Can I kiss you, Will?"

Will nodded breathlessly, his eye lids fluttering close. (M/N) closed his eyes and met Will's lips with his own.

#will byers x male reader #stranger things x male reader #x male reader

[tamurilofrivendell]

Sleeping Beauty | Chapter 4

Previous Chapters [1, 2, 3] Read on AO3 [x]

Pairing: Thranduil/Fem. Reader Summary: A Sleeping Beauty inspired tale with Thranduil the Elvenking, and a female elf living in Mirkwood under the care of Radagast, who is actually the 'lost' daughter of the late High King Gil-Galad. Taglist: @hufflepuff1700​, @jinlizz-dragondrama​, @firelightinferno​, @bubbleyukismile, @coopsgirl​, @achromaticerebus​, @sleepyamygdala​ 

Thranduil caught up easily to the rest of his company and the group came to a sudden halt in a clearing. Thranduil lifted his chin, his gaze darkening as he took in the sight before him.

She stood there in the middle of the clearing. The Enchantress. She stood tall, clad all in black, a long smooth staff of walnut wood clutched in her right hand. Subtle glittering gems were woven through her long black hair. She was staring at the top of the staff in her hand as if it were far more intriguing than the ten elven soldiers who had appeared before her with their king.

Thranduil, however, was not fooled one bit by her little show.

“Did you know?” Her voice was soft, melodic. Mere mortals had fallen for her charms many times over, for the Enchantress was pleasing to the eye and could sound like a simple, innocent woman. If you did not know her, you would easily fall victim to her allure. It was, after all, how she managed to get so much of what she wanted - and how she had survived this long, other than the power she held within her. “That the walnut tree is often associated with the element of fire?” She shook her head as if stunned by the fact, as she examined her staff of walnut wood.

It was quite obviously a threat and a very thinly veiled one at that.

“Enough.” Thranduil’s voice boomed across the clearing, only barely holding back a roll of his eyes. “If you have come here to set the wood aflame, you already know you will not leave it with your head still attached to your wretched body.”

The Enchantress’ attention flickered to the king, her gaze narrowing as she looked upon him. “Lord Thranduil.” She sneered, mock bowing before him, though she never broke eye contact and she barely dipped at all. "How is your father?" She asked before lifting a delicate hand to her mouth as if shocked at a sudden remembrance. "Oh! That's right..."

Thranduil merely straightened his shoulders, puffing out his chest slightly as he glared back at her. “You are not allowed to be here.” His voice was dangerously soft.

She smiled softly at him, though her eyes were practically on fire as her stare bore into him. Thranduil stared back, unperturbed even as a couple of his shoulders shifted beneath the weight that had settled upon the clearing.

"Well!" She shook her head, acting quite affronted. "It would seem I am unwelcome! Can a lady not wander such magnificent woods for the beauty of them? What is the world coming to..."

"A lady may." Thranduil retorted, his thoughts drifting of their own accord to you, the strange yet enchanting maiden he had found living under the radar somewhere in his forest. "Yet there is not one here before us."

The Enchantress only allowed a brief glimmer of the rage that shot through her at his words to make itself known, her eyes flashing as she looked at him, quickly covering it with a melodious laugh. "Oh, great king, how very like your father you have become."

Thranduil let none of his anger show upon his face. He would not give her the satisfaction. She was so obviously bringing up his father to get a reaction. To pain him. Which it did... but he would not let her see it.

Thranduil had only been a young elf at the time but he remembered her. He remembered that day in Lindon...

"You have five seconds to rid my wood of your presence or I shall do it for you."

She blinked back at him, lifting her chin and making no move to leave as she stared at the king, mocking him with her defiance.

"Mîn." One.

Nothing.

"Tâd." Two.

Nothing.

"Nêl." Three.

Still, she stood, like a statue, her gaze fixed upon Thranduil. It did not show upon her face but in her mind she was going over how very satisfying it would be to send him to meet his loathsome parents.

One problem at a time, though. She couldn't start an all out war with the wood elves. She had to search this forest. How they had even known she set foot here was quite beyond her at the moment.

"Canad." Four.

Thranduil then directed his words to his soldiers. "Ready your arrows!"

The elven soldiers all prepared their bows, reaching for their arrows and nocking them into the strings as they prepared to fire upon the Enchantress. She did not flinch, which unnerved a couple of the soldiers, though they did not yield.

"Leben!” Five!

Just as the arrows flew, there was a sudden rolling cloud of black smoke and the very air around them seemed to take on a heavy weight. Thranduil turned his head, quite stunned by the smoke's rapid appearance as if from nowhere. When he turned his head again the smoke cleared and she was gone. The arrows all lay in a pile upon the grass.

Anger bubbled in him once more as, for a long moment, he just stared at the space where she had stood only seconds before.

"My King?" Feren's voice was the first to reach him, rousing him from his half-trance.

He turned and nodded. "She is gone." He scanned the woods around them, gritting his teeth. "For now." Thranduil turned his elk around and shook his head, flicking his hand out. "We ride back."

Radagast had left the cottage not too long after you had woken up. He said it was very important wizard business that you did not need to know about and that you were to stay inside until he returned, no matter what.

He had hurried after the elves, in case he could have been of some use, but unfortunately he arrived a little too late.

Thranduil slowed his mount down as he neared Radagast. He looked over the wizard's rabbits with a slightly amused expression before he turned his attention back to Radagast, not bothering to hide his weariness.

"Well? Is she gone?" Radagast asked, urging Thranduil for some answers and quickly.

The king nodded as he gestured for his men, who had stopped when he did, to go in ahead of him. "Yes. For now. But we both know she will return." He frowned down at the wizard from his elk and shook his head. "I do not understand what she is doing here."

Radagast shifted rather uncomfortably, his thoughts flashing between you and that fateful day so many years ago. He only shrugged. “You didn’t ask her?"

Thranduil rolled his eyes. "She hardly would have told me if I had." He insisted. "All she wanted to do was make remarks about my father." Thranduil detested how his voice wavered on the word father.

Radagast, whose eyes had been roving through the trees around them, looked back up at Thranduil then. The wizard was frowning and his expression had a sorrow in it that made Thranduil roll his eyes again.

"I am fine."

"It was a long time ago, Thranduil, but you were very young and--"

Thranduil held up a hand then. "Enough. Please, enough. The princess is dead, I barely knew her." They both knew it was not only the princess Radagast spoke of but neither said as much.

"You watched her die." Radagast said quietly, looking at Thranduil sadly. Thranduil didn’t know whether he was speaking of Gil-Galad’s daughter... or of Thranduil’s own mother, and the king did not ask. Nor did he answer, sitting in complete silence.

Radagast found then that he wished he could tell him. He wished he could tell Thranduil that he had an elleth living with him and that she was actually the princess, that she had not perished but been hidden away for her own safety. "It is not--”

"Enough!"

Radagast wilted a little and Thranduil almost felt bad but he reminded himself that he couldn't live in the past... even as flickers of the Enchantress murdering the babe, her mother, and his own flashed through his mind.

"I have work to do." He muttered, tugging gently at the reins of his elk. "If she comes back, I will inform you and I expect you to do the same."

Then he was gone.

"Can I go?" You asked for the fifteenth time that afternoon.

Radagast gave you a look that you had long since given up attempting to decipher. "I just don't think it wise. Maybe tomorrow."

"Oh, please! I promise, I will not stay out like I did yesterday. I mean it, I swear!"

Radagast hesitated. He felt uncomfortable, to put it lightly, at the thought of letting you go traipsing off into the forest on your own so soon after the Enchantress herself had been seen beneath these very trees - albeit near the outskirts.

Truthfully, he was awfully rattled by the whole thing. Why had she come? When would she return? He had already sent a message to Gandalf but with the way that wizard wandered, he was afraid the poor bird he'd sent wouldn't find him any time soon.

"Alright, now listen-" Radagast started as he turned to face you. Your face had already lit up and, as he looked at you, he knew be wouldn't be able to change his mind. "You can go-"

"Yes!"

"-but." The wizard gave you a pointed look. "You must take the bow with you and you must return an hour before you normally would."

With a squeal you threw your arms around the wizard. "Thank you, thank you!" You knew you would have lost your mind sitting in her all day. Even just sitting out in the front of the cottage wouldn't have been far enough.

You kissed Radagast twice on both cheeks, grabbed the bow and arrows from by the front door, and then scurried away into the afternoon, leaving the wizard fondly shaking his head after you.

At the same time you left the cottage, Thranduil had once more mounted his elk and gone back into the forest. He hadn't been able to switch his mind off after the encounters with both the Enchantress and Radagast, which meant he got absolutely no work done.

His thoughts had been consumed by the past and, while some would say it was only to be expected, the unbidden thoughts were outside of Thranduil's control and therefore made him feel weak... which in turn caused his temper to rise. Shouting at a poor, unsuspecting guard for asking a simple question had been the last straw.

The elk moved easily beneath the trees. It knew this forest well enough for its master to sit upon its back and not have any need to direct it. Thranduil was far away, though he tried not to drift too deep into the back of his own mind.

The sound of soft singing pulled him from his reverie and he finally blinked and looked back up, surprised. The elk sniffed and shook its head when Thranduil tapped it gently on the head. “Sneaky.” He muttered as the animal stepped into the clearing and he dismounted.

Unlike yesterday, you were much more focused and you immediately turned when you heard the animal enter the clearing, watching as Thranduil dismounted the beast and turned to look at you.

“I must admit, I didn’t expect to see you again quite so soon.” You told him, giving him an amused look that made him chuckle despite his mood.

“Yes, well. I believe-” He said, turning to look at the elk beside him with narrowed eyes. “-that somebody missed you.”

He watched you move over to the animal with no hesitancy, hand reaching out immediately to pet them as a soft rush of endearments left your lips, and he felt his heart soften.

#thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #thranduil fanfic #thranduil fanfiction #lotr x reader #lotr fanfic #sleeping beauty

[lamarkeu]

Episode Summary: Myungho is left home alone with his kids for the first time since their youngest was born allowing his wife to go on a much needed break.

Genre: Fluff (and minor angst)

Masterlist for SVTTROS Series

a/n: Mentions of divorce and child custody (TW)

Italics: Narrators Boo Seungkwan (BS) and Lee Minhyuk (LM)

Bold: Staff

Regular: What family member says / what camera films during the show

Listen To: Wonder by Standing Egg

BS: The Return of Superman, Episode 3 “I Think I Love You ” Part 2.

LM: This condo is absolutely breathtaking. The simple black and whites give off the vibe of modern minimalist layout. Once we pull back the floor to ceiling curtains the high ceilings warm up the space by revealing various artwork once hidden in shadow.

The living room is impeccably clean, for a second your daughter, Luna, is shown laying on her stomach adjacent to her younger brother Minho. The two take turns patting away at the foot of a massive teddy bear they received from their uncle Seungkwan.

BM: Ahh! I know who this is.

LM: Really? I haven’t been able to guess because I’ve been so busy admiring the artwork, it looks like Superman is either an art collector or a painter.

The camera captures how the kitchen perfectly overlooks the living room. Such a small detail can make a world of difference when you’re taking care of children. Zooming in closer towards the opened kitchen the audience sees a pair of hands chopping away on the counter top not going past the wrist level.

“What gift should we give Jeongwoo?” a voice asked before transferring the chopped carrots and onions into a bowl.

“Traditionally speaking clothes and Money should be fine. We’re not part of the intermediate family so we can avoid things like gold.” A second lower voice could be heard off screen, the camera capturing him boiling a pot of water.

“Sounds perfect,”she agrees before placing her used knife and cutting board into the sink as she adds, “I’ll stop by the bank on the way home.” She places her apron on a hook inside their pantry door. Dusting off herself from the ingredients she prepared for her husband to cook while she’s gone. “Are you sure you’ll be okay with them?”

“I promise, now go enjoy spending time with your friends. It’s about time you get a break.” A smile of adoration appears on his face before he leans down to give him a kiss just as the cameras pull up to show their face.

BS: Welcome Seventeen’s kind lead dancer and renowned painter Xu Minghao and renowned makeup artist Y/L/N Y/N. Hyung and Noona I missed seeing you!

LM: Myungho! What a sweet husband.

“Hyungsik might stop by, he said Luna left her project that’s due tomorrow at his house.” Y/N continued as she puts on her shoes in the foyer.

“Okay, I’ll keep an eye on the door camera.”

“See you later babies, I love you.” She calls to her kids with warmth in her voice after kissing her husband on the cheek.

Luna is heard yelling from the living room, “Bye mom, I’ll take care of bàba and didi while you’re gone.”

“That’s my girl. I’m so lucky to have you as my daughter.”

“Hello I’m Seo Myungho better known as Xu Minghao. I am one of Seventeen’s artists. I’m also more proudly known as Luna and Mingyue father.”

“Hi. I’m Y/L/N-Park Luna. I’m five years old. I have a baby brother name Ming Yue. I want to become a artist like my bàba.

“My name is Y/N Y/L/N, I’m a professional make up artist by trade and a passionate skincare business owner. Im also the mother of these beautiful babies. Thank you for inviting our family onto this show I’m a huge fan so this is a dream come true.”

How did you meet?

“I was doing some solo promotions while our Korean members were in the military. Originally I had a makeup artist through PLEDIS but she was about to go on maternity leave. I asked around my friends if they knew anyone that would be willing to take a temporary position. Dokyeom’s wife got in contact with me and relayed how great Y/N was.”

“I worked with Dokyeom doing stage makeup for musical theater since he played King Arthur. I got a message from Lee Y/N asking about Myungho and I immediately said yes. We’ve met before in passing and with other people so I took it as an opportunity for a better introduction.”

“She did quite the job helping with my appearance but also helped calm my nerves when I performed on different stages. Without that introduction I don’t think we would’ve found love the way we did.”

When did you realize you wanted to introduce Myungho to Luna?

“It was pretty early on. I was very upfront about having recently gone through a divorce. Being the amazing man he is, Myungho knew Luna was first priority and wasn’t scared of that.”

“If it were up to me I would’ve met her as soon as we started going out together but, I knew how delicate their situation was, especially because they were figuring out the custody arrangements.”

“Ultimately they did meet in person after 2 years. He was amazing at soothing my concerns and ultimately made me realize that he was in this relationship for the long haul.”

“We officially dated after that, got married and had Mingyue this year.”

What has co-parenting been like for you?

“It’s the best thing I could’ve asked for. I’ve always loved the idea of having a kid and Luna really made me enjoy that even more. I love seeing her grow and figure out who she is. At the end of the day on paper she may not be my biological daughter but in my eyes she will always be my little girl. I have Hyungsik Hyung and Y/N to thank for that.”

“Hyungsik and I much to people’s disbelief ended things on good terms. Now that we’re both remarried I hope that people show us respect for our blended family. I can’t speak for him but I know he’s really thankful for Myungho being another amazing father figure in Luna’s life. I’m so thankful that even when disagreements occur that they look past that because of their love for Luna.”

Do you have any messages for our viewers?

“I know netizens have had their misconceptions of who I am and the relationships I’ve had. I don’t blame them I hope through this show however, they’re able to rewrite their perceptions of myself and my family.”

“Y/N is an amazing mother and partner. To see how the media has manipulated this to benefit their own interests has been something we’ve been trying to fight against. I’m so grateful for the support given to us from my members, carats, Y/N’s fans, and our families for being so supportive during this time. Without you guys I don’t think we would’ve had the courage to share our love story to the public. My goal for our time on this show is to heal from the damages inflicted onto us in the past and expose our viewers to our family dynamic. Ultimately if we help even a single person to become open to blended families like ours I can proudly say that we’ve done our job.”

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen #lamarkeu #lamarkeu series #lamarkeu tros #tros #lamarkeu asks #seventeen series

[hallo2838]

Hotel experience pt.1

Notes: story was inspired after this tweet which was posted after the milan concert. English is not my first language and this is highly not proofread. Also im still not the best at writing and it’s more a horny thought which would get me off but i wanted to share in the hope i get new moots who i can interact and share horny thoughts together so pls feel free to interact/degrade me im a submissive female. No minors pls

Warnings: spanking, name-calling, degradation, mentions of cnc, free use, strap-on

Touring over the world is one of the best things in life for Siyeon. Performing and seeing the fans in real live and getting their energy. Being together with the members and the staff and exploring cities whenever they have free time.

The concert days have mainly the same setup, first soundcheck, doing their make up, performing and after the concert there is the meet&greet event. This is where it get’s interesting for the girls especially for Siyeon and all the girls and staff know that.

For the meet&greet the fans first give a high five and then come a second time for the picture. As the row went by there was particulary one girl who was really pretty she couldn’t take her eyes of. The fan said something like i love you and gave wink. Even though siyeon was the one that was getting flirted with she needed to dominate that fan. But the hi-touch always goes so fast and she just hopes that the girl would be seated in front of her. And a few minutes later she did. Siyeon noticed the girl wore a bit too short skirt and a croptop where she could see her tits. When the girl seated siyeon could see a good view of her tits. Siyeon made a agreed sign with the staff so the staff would know they had to take her our of the row.

Earlier in the days the girls had to share rooms even when they didn’t had alone time at the dorm. So they would use each other as fucktoys to get off their horniness. But since now they have a bit more money to spent they can get their own hotel room. Not that she didn’t mind the sex with her members it’s good and they all do it with each other occasionally at the dorms too. But some alone time is good for everyone and now she was able to bring some whores to her hotel room like rockstarts did in the 70s.

When the m&g was over she rushed back to the backstage room and luckily she saw her slut for tonight standing there. “Hi darling, how are you tell me your name” was the first thing she asked the girl. The girl responded with her name but siyeon didn’t hear it but it didn’t matter because she would call her everything instead of her own name. Soon they were back in the van to the hotel. Siyeon managed to sit at the backseat and rested her hand on the girl’s thigh. She gave it a few squeezes and then slowly went up a bit higher. The girl already made a deep sigh but siyeon putter her hand on her mouth. Of course everyone knew why the fan was sitting in the van but it would be too embarassing if everyone knew already thay siyeon was soo horny that she couldn’t contain herself. While siyeon putted her hand on her mouth she whispered to the girl: “you know why youre taken with me? Because you made me so horny with that skirt and those tits, it looks like you asked to be pounded from me with the way you dress, so soon i use you as my own sex toy you understand”. The fan was defintely into sex with siyeon but it went from 0 to 100 real quick, she give a quick nod. “Good girl, keep quiet otherwise i will punish you”. Because the girl wore a skirt there was such easy access and siyeon couldn’t resist to rub her pussy real quick. However the girl made really small high pitched moan. Siyeon looked at her with an intimidating gaze but didn’t say anything but o girl wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.

The van was at the hotel and they rushed to get to the rooms. In the elevator they were only with sua and yoohyeon. So couldn’t resist and already groped the girls ass in the elevator. Sua and yoohyeon looked at the action and they felt their pants already getting tight. Siyeon gave a smirk and knew that they would use each other this night to get off.

In the hotel room siyeon pushed the girl against the wall. Putted one hand on her throat and came really close to her lips alsmost but not kissing yet. The other hand went over the girl’s tit and she felt a hard nipple already. “Oh darling, you don’t wear a bra do you, you did that on purpose you just want to be fucked right, such a fucking whore for me”. She smashed her lips against the girl and gave her throat a bit more pressure but it was more about hand placement than actually choking. While kissing she pinced the girls nipple to the top. But siyeon needed more she needed the girl in all the naughty positions and naked. “Strip for me and get on all fours, you get 15 seconds from me”. While the girl rushed to take off her clothes siyeon was already undressing herself and putting on the strap. She saw the girl raised her ass in the air so she give it a couple spanks. “Oh babe i hope you love to get spanked but with this juicy ass it must be right” she give a couple spanks more and then continues to put on her strap.

#siyeon smut #kpop smut #dreamcatcher smut #siyeon x reader #dreamcatcher x reader #dreamcatcher siyeon #dreamcatcher scenarios #girl group scenarios #siyeon x fem reader #dreamcatcher imagines #girl group smut #gg smut #smut #gg x reader #gg x fem reader

[thebirdandthebee]

Imagine Me & You

A Jake “Hangman” Seresin fic.

First time writing TGM fanfic - please be gentle.

Jake stumbles across a woman on base that seems to enjoy the finer things in life... just like the future he’d like to build - with her in it.

Intro: Red Bottoms, Blue Box

The blessing and the curse of California is that the weather never really changed – at least not the same way it did in the Midwest. It lazed between the mid-70s and mid-80s, usually sunny and on an odd weekend, a whisper of rain if you were lucky. That was definitely the hardest part of the west coast that Mia needed to adjust to – that and the traffic.

Though her past three years in Malibu had prepared her for the weather, it was a far cry from her home in Omaha – a home she hadn’t visited in the last five years, at least.

One of the many blessings of Miramar was the ability to drive her father’s red 1973 Jaguar XKE, which wasn’t cut for the brutal cold and snow of Nebraska winters.

Like today, as she wound the classic, red two-seater down the road, she often felt like she was on another planet. Especially now as the base was quiet with limited staff around. But she knew that would be changing shortly. With warning from her directing attorney, she had the information that several aviators would be arriving on base within the next few weeks for an indeterminate amount of time. Sure, there were typically additional members hanging around the base for training or part of their stationing, but it could be quiet.

She was told it would no longer be quiet – and she welcomed it. As a contracting legal advisor and newly minted attorney, working on base in Fightertown, USA, was something she never saw herself doing.

However, after finishing law school at Pepperdine and without a family to return to in Nebraska, she moved as close as she could to where she needed to be – near her grandmother who was in a memory care facility in Del Mar.

Mia had no draw to the Navy, military or anything in the orbit of the armed forces. She wanted to be a short drive from grandma Dorothea and for now, was still pleased with living in California. The job posting was simply one that populated on her feed after setting up several alerts to her email after getting the seal of approval from the California Bar.

Her superior, Lt. Gen. Bozek, was a kind and understanding man, and didn’t treat her differently for being a young woman that was not enlisted. She could learn a lot from him, and at least for the last six months, had made a career in the military appealing as a civilian. She had her own private office on base and a moderate walk from other buildings, allowing her peace and quiet to do her job – which was primarily procedural review and small civilian-involved cases, along with assisting Bozek with any projects or cases he may need a hand with.

They worked from 9-4, cut off early on Fridays and occasionally his high-school-aged daughter would send him to work with a box of homemade cookies. He also ensured that she was treated with respect by all they encountered. He had warned her it was different for contracted civilians on base, and to be fair, it was a male-dominated base, but she never felt uncomfortable or unwelcome.

However, there were a few places on base that she hadn’t quite worked up the confidence to visit quite yet, including the NEX, or commissary.

There were many ways that Mia knew she was an outsider on base, and though she was doing her best to assimilate in her personal and professional life, something about the NEX gave her anxiety.

However, today was different. And Lt. Gen. Bozek knew it.

“You’ll be great! It’s just a grocery store!” He called as he waved her out of the parking space in front of their brick-and-mortar.

“I can do it!” Mia called back with a laugh, but positively shuddering internally.

She normally did most of her grocery shopping at Whole Foods off base, not far from her condo, but it was in the opposite direction of the base from her home and she needed two things to make a recipe for dinner tonight.

So she’d take her chances at the commissary.

Sure, she’d driven by it many times, and it surely looked just like any other store, but there was something about its presence that didn’t seem like she belonged. Her ID card told her otherwise.

Walking in, she popped her AirPods into her ear and dialed in the Bloomberg Law podcast. Though she came in simply for two lemons and a carton of heavy cream, by nature of habit, she grabbed a small push cart and started wandering up and down the aisles.

Now, with a basket filled with lemons, raspberries, feta, rosemary, capers and heavy cream, she turned toward the dry goods. Whole Foods had a lot of great things, but didn’t have Kraft Mac ‘N Cheese.

Turning a blind corner to the pasta and rice aisle, she came to an abrupt stop as her small cart stopped just an inch short of another living body.

“Sorry!” She squeaked, not bothering to take out her AirPods, looking up at the shopper. She carefully maneuvered her cart around him, but heard his voice in a soft muffle from beneath her podcast. Nearly passed, she popped out her left ear. “What was that?” She asked.

“There is a speed limit to those things,” he commented with the faintest hint of a smirk. Mia gave a sheepish smile and a lame exhale of a laugh.

“Sorry about that,” she repeated, giving him one more look before plugging her podcast back in and moving forward down toward the opposite end of the walkway. She was oddly emboldened with confidence, a contrast to her feelings upon arrival. At the end of the day, she was just here to get some lemons… and Kraft Dinner. Now hearing only the click of her heels and June Grasso’s voice, she scanned the aisles for what she wanted.

They had plenty of thick ‘n creamy, but where was the three cheese? Finally spotting it up on the top shelf, she rose up the few spare centimeters her heels hadn’t already elevated her and reached out her arm. With the first three boxes missing, she was having just a small difficulty grabbing what she wanted.

Rolling forward on her toes again and failing, she was moments from settling for Velveeta shells when a hand appeared her in periphery. Once again, the voice was muffled.

“One or two?” The man asked again, Mia hearing him clearly with her AirPods now in her empty hand.

“Two, please,” she replied. She paused her podcast with a squeeze before committing her attention to her helper. “Thanks, the heels only take me up so far.” She smiled, receiving the boxes. At 5’6, she needed the help she could get, and her nude Louboutins could only help so much.

“Red bottoms and a blue box,” he winked. She took a moment to scan the helpful stranger. Perfectly coiffed blonde hair, teeth from a Crest ad and green eyes that rivaled an exotic succulent. “A winning combination.”

She spared a glance down to his own basket – chicken breast, white rice and frozen broccoli.

“Disciplined,” she commented.

“Something like that,” he replied. “Jake Seresin.”

“Nice to meet you Lieutenant,” she dropped the two boxes into her little basket, not cluing away too much from his badge.

“I’d love to return the sentiment…”

“Mia,” she began – “no Lieutenant, though,” she added.

“I put that together myself,” he said, eyes glancing down to her cart and taking in the other, fresh ingredients. He longed for dinners at upscale steakhouses and seafood on the water.

“Thanks again,” she said, bidding him goodbye and turning the corner.

He wasn’t finished, but he’d let her go this time.

Upon arriving back home at her condo, nestled on the top floor of her building, she put away her few commissary items and began to work on dinner – chicken picatta and a raspberry feta salad.

“Hi sweetheart,” She crooned, pleased to see her baby brother’s face on her phone.

“Hi Mimi,” Jack Thomas replied, looking worse for wear with rumpled hair and nap imprints across his cheek.

“You just wake up?” She asked, tending carefully to her chicken cutlets.

“Yeah, we had a five a.m. run this morning and I had to go straight from weightlifting to class,” he replied, rubbing a hand across his face.

“Homework time?” Mia prompted.

“The boys and I are going to the tutor rooms in a bit to get some work done,” he trailed. ���We go to Omaha next week,” he added quietly. Mia gave her brother her undivided attention. “You’ll be great, Jacky,” she encouraged. Even now, so many years later, it was hard to return to Nebraska.

“Thanks Mimi,” he mumbled. “Can I still come out to see you in July?” He asked – a few months out.

“Of course, Jacky, you know you’re always welcome,” she encouraged. “Just tell me the dates and I’ll book your ticket. I’ll even pick you up in the Jag,” she winked.

“Sounds good, I’m going to change quick before Timo and I take off,” he said, life coming back into his voice. “Love you, Mimi.”

“Love you too, Jack Jack.” She blew him a kiss before he ended the call.

Wrapping up her dinner, she brought her plate out to the little bistro table on her deck, looking out as she enjoyed her meal. Absently, she wondered if she’d see Lieutenant Seresin again.

#jake seresin #named ofc #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fic #jake is a refined cowboy #hangman #top gun maverick #this gets smutty #and fluffy #top gun maverick fic #hangman smut #hangman fluff

[hbosucc]

Greg Hirsch x Reader: Chapter 2

Hiiii just posting the second chapter!

Here is a link to Chapter 1

Not many content warnings for this chapter in particular, just swearing and two consenting adults kissing. This fic is 18+, but this chapter is the most tame.

Anyways Chapter 2 is below! If you read this fic ilysm. I had the time of my life writing it and even if it isn't super good I hope someone else can maybe enjoy it too. Mwah xoxoxo

Chapter 2: The Morning After + Second Date

I woke the next morning to a series of notifications from Greg, and I realized with a twinge of guilt that I had forgotten to let him know I’d gotten home all right.

Y/N: So sorry to worry you! I made it home just fine last night, I totally blanked on letting you know.

          I took a quick shower, and when I came back out, there were new messages from him through the app. Dripping water on my phone screen, I swiped it open.

Greg: No worries, it’s all good

          Glad you didn’t get murdered by your driver!

That was in bad taste, sorry

          If you want to text instead, here’s my phone number:

The phone number exchange—that was a good sign. I saved the number to my contacts and sent him a text.

Y/N: Hey Greg, it’s Y/N :)

          I resisted checking my phone again as I finished getting ready for work, blow-drying my hair and pulling on my tights in between sips of coffee. Once I was ready to go, I headed down the steps of the brownstone and into my car at the curb. I’d only used a ride app the night before because I had known I’d be drinking, but I did have a car of my own, mostly used for driving to and from work. I lived in an area that leaned more suburban than downtown, so parking wasn’t too hellish.

          I made it to the school early enough to get a decent spot in the staff parking lot, and headed to the lounge for my second coffee of the day. The coffee in the staff lounge was notoriously bad, but it’d been a late night by my standards, and I was desperate.

          “Hey, lady,” Katelynn, my closest work-friend, breezed in behind me to pour some coffee into her travel mug. She shook two packets of sweetener into hers and stirred. “How’re things with you?”

          “Good, actually.” I nodded, holding my hands around the paper cup to warm them. You’d think that at a private school, they’d be able to afford a better heating system. And better coffee. “I went on a date last night.”

          “Ooh, how’d it go?” She sat down across from me at one of the tables. Though we were about the same age, Katelynn was an actual, fully qualified teacher. She taught ninth-grade History and Politics, bless her. Somehow, she seemed to love it.

          “It was good! Well, I thought it was, at least, but we didn’t kiss at the end.” I admitted. “I know that’s so high school of me to think about, but I’m just not used to that, I guess.”

          Katelynn’s face became serious, and I loved her for it. “I know what you mean. That is kind of weird. Maybe he was too nervous? Or maybe he just didn’t want to be presumptuous?”

          “You’re probably right.” I nodded. “He did seem a little nervous.”

          “That’s probably it. He was just intimidated by your beauty and brains and charming demeanor.” She smiled at me over the lip of her cup.

          “That’s got to be it.” I shook my head, trying not to laugh. “You’ve cracked the case.”

          “Do you have a pic of him?”

          “Oh, yeah, let me find one.” I opened up the app we’d met on and went to his profile, pulling up what I thought was his best picture, then held it out to show her.

          “Oh! He’s cute!” She exclaimed, grabbing the phone from me. “And he’s six-five? Sheesh, babes. Lucky you.”

          “I think he actually is six-five in real life, too. Crazy, right?”

          The warning bell rang, and Katelynn stood up to go.

          “Crazy. Do you want to do lunch sometime this week? I need to hear more about this guy.”

          “For sure. Text me.” I nodded, and she was gone, off to unlock her classroom and let the students in. I took my cup with me to the library, where I was scheduled to meet with one of my one-on-one students for English tutoring. My heels echoed down the emptying halls, and I checked my phone one last time as I walked: still no text back.

          I stuffed my phone into my pocket, trying to stuff my disappointment away with it. I needed to focus on my job now; he’d text back soon enough. That was what I told myself, anyways.

---

          He did text me back, eventually, later that day.

Greg: Hey! Sorry I didn’t text back earlier, work = crazy again today

          But I have Sunday off, if you’re free?

          To hang out again I mean

          I waited as long as I could to respond, trying to hold onto a shred of my dignity.

Y/N: Hey! That’s okay, I know how it goes.

          Sunday should work. What did you have in mind?

--- Second Date ---

I had to give it to him, it was a cute idea. Much better than a lot of the dates I’d had in the past, which, at their most creative, had been going out to dinner.

          “Have you ever ice skated before?” I asked Greg as we sat together on a bench, lacing up our skates.

          “I did when I was younger, but it’s been a while,” He gave a nervous laugh. “But I don’t know, I thought it might be fun. What—what about you, have you?”

          “Yeah, I’ve been a handful of times.” I nodded, standing up very carefully. “But it’s been a while for me, too.”

          “I thought it seemed like something you’d be good at, for some reason.” He followed me up and into the ring, moving with more grace than I had expected for someone as tall and gangly as him. His vibe didn’t exactly scream hand-eye coordination.

          “Good? I don’t know about that. Competent, maybe.” I laughed. It truly had been a while. I wanted to look over my shoulder at him, but I was sure I’d lose my balance and fall over if I didn’t keep my eyes straight forward.

          “Well, then I guess we can be competent together.” I felt his gloved hand wrap around mine and looked up to see him skating next to me. He looked down with a tentative smile, and I nodded.

          “Deal,” I gave his hand a little squeeze as we got into a rhythm together, our weight moving from leg to leg in sync. I’m sure we looked a bit ridiculous moving at our snails’ pace while children zipped around us on either side, showing off for each other. I let out a shriek as one whizzed particularly close, almost clipping my shoulder.

          “These fucking kids,” He laughed.

          “Right?” I blew out a puff of air, watching the condensation form a little cloud.

          “Do you, um, do you like kids? Or want them?”

          “Not particularly.” I admitted. “Even though I work with them, I like being able to leave them at the end of the day. I don’t think I could do it twenty-four-seven.”

          He nodded thoughtfully. “That would be, like, a lot.”

          “What about you?” I watched him out of the corner of my eye. Partly because he was cute, and partly to watch his face as he came up with an answer.

          “I could take them or leave them, personally.” he said. “It depends on the kid, I guess.”

          “What about animals? Like, pets, I mean.”

          “I do—I do like them, um, in concept. My mom has a dog, and I guess I’ve always been partial to dogs, myself.”

          “I’ve always been more of a cat person,” I said. “I like dogs too, though. But I think it must be so hard to have one here in the city, with no yards for them to run around in. I know there are dog parks, but, you know.”

          “Yeah, I definitely get what you’re saying. It doesn’t seem fair. To the dogs, I mean.”

          “Exactly. You get it,” I let go of his hand as we made it to the wall of the rink opposite the entrance, resting on the rails for a moment. I watched as a teenager in the middle of the rink did a very impressive jump, spinning while in the air, before landing perfectly on the ice again.

          “How come you didn’t kiss me?” I asked, looking up at him.

          “I—um,” He started, his face reddening. “I should’ve, I know. I regretted it right after you walked away. I just…I didn’t want to come off too strong, or feel like I was, like, being a creep, or—you know, in the age of, like, Me Too, I didn’t want to…overstep any, or, I mean, make any assumptions?”

          “Greg,” I sighed. “First, you’re not going to be cancelled for kissing someone at the end of a date, as long as you don’t, like, force it on them. Also, I was giving you the look. That’s usually a sign that a kiss would be acceptable.”

          “Well, I’m sorry.” He said, exasperated, but I could tell he understood. “I wanted to kiss you, okay? I just—I don’t know, like, froze up.”

          “It’s okay.” I shook my head. “I’m sorry, actually, for making a big deal out of it. It’s stupid, I know. I feel like a fucking teenager—”

          I was cut off mid-sentence as he leaned down and planted a quick, firm kiss to my lips. He drew back, checking my face for a reaction.

          “Well,” I said, regaining my composure. “You are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

          “I suppose I am.” He grinned and took my hand, and we rejoined the stream of skaters, going around and around the rink. We went around so many times I lost count, and came close to falling a handful of times, but one of us always managed to steady the other before we could end up with our butts on the ice.

          Once we’d returned our rental skates and laced up our own shoes, he walked me out to my car. Just in time for the sunset, we leaned against the bumper and watched as the sky swirled with pink and orange and finally dark blue.

          “I hope you know, I wanted to kiss you for longer, but with all those kids around, it would’ve felt, like, weird.” He turned to face me in the twilight.

          “I think that was smart.” I said, looking over my shoulder at the mostly-empty parking lot. “Don’t see any kids around now.”

          “Well, lucky me, then.” His hand came up to cup my face, the other one resting on my hip as he pulled me in. I stood up on my toes, and our lips met again. We moved slowly at first, shifting to find what was comfortable, and then came the tongue. He wasn’t clumsy or overbearing with it, as I’d suspected he might be. I reciprocated, my hands running over his hair and down towards his jaw. In the freezing air, I could feel myself heating up as our bodies pressed together.

          When we finally broke apart—I’m sure his back was starting to ache from having to bend down to reach me—I felt flushed and melty, like a microwaved marshmallow.

          “Jesus,” I breathed.

          “Yeah,” He nodded, and we both laughed.

          “Well,” I started, not quite wanting to leave, but knowing I still had the drive home ahead of me, and school in the morning. “Unfortunately, I have to get going.”

          “Hey, duty calls.” He said. “Let me know when you make it home?”

          “I will. I actually will, this time.” I smiled, hitting the button to unlock my car.

          “When can I, like, see you again?” He asked as he began backing away.

          “I’m not sure.” I furrowed my brow. “Maybe we can get lunch sometime this week?”

          “Okay, I’ll—I’ll text you.”

          “Sounds good. ‘Bye, Greg.”

          “’Bye. Have a good night!” He called after me as I slid behind the wheel and started my car, turning the heat up.

          I replayed the date in my head on the drive home, smiling to myself. There was a lot to like about him, and no big red flags so far. He seemed a little too agreeable at times, almost too eager to please, but that I could understand. That wasn’t a major moral failing; at least not in my book. He was also becoming sexier to me the more we got to know each other. He wasn’t necessarily my normal type, but there was just something about him.

          Parking in front of the brownstone, I went up the steps and into the warmth of my building. I closed my door behind me, bolting it, and hung my coat up on the hook. I pulled out my phone and shot Greg a quick text, letting him know I’d made it. As it sent, I saw Katelynn had texted me while I was at the rink.

Katelynn: Is this the guy you’re dating rn???

          Attached was a picture, and I clicked on it to make it bigger. It was from some press conference for ATN news, the biggest right-wing-affiliated news network in the country. It was the kind of news channel where talking heads railed against the LGBTQ+ community and abortions, insisting that our country was going to pieces because we’d legalized marriage equality. To put it mildly, I was not a fan.

          And there was Greg, standing right next to the head of the division.

#succession x reader #succession fanfic #succession imagine #hbo succession #succession #greg hirsch #greg hirsch x reader

[randomshyperson]

Mystery Club - Chapter Three - Wanda Maximoff x Reader Series

Summary: Returning to your hometown five years after leaving everything behind, including your best friend, is no easy feat. Getting involved in a secret club wasn't in the plans either. Or the one based on Life is Strange.

Warnings: (+18) high school au, best friends to lovers, mild/heavy angst mentions with happy happing, use of legal substances (alcohol, marijuana), violence, verbal aggression, explicit language, smut, triggers regarding sexual assault, mentions of death, grieving, hints of depression and anxiety, panic attacks, a lot of domesticity.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad || Series Masterlist

--//--

Chapter Three - Tavern, Tattoos, and Trust

Westview is a small town, which means there are few places to hang out. Odin's Tavern - yes, like the Norse God - is one of them. 

But old Odin died before you left Westview. His kids inherited the business, and together with their mother Frigga, transformed the place from a pool bar to a more family-friendly environment, yet considered funky with its good food and cheap beer. It was not the kind of place that the fussy folks from the Institute would go, for example.

And even if Wanda was a troublemaker now, she was still the daughter of rich people and lived in a house worth more than a year's salary of all the employees in that place. 

Maybe that's why the waiter was in such a bad mood when he attended to you.

"Maximoff, nice to have you here again." He greeted sarcastically. "Are you going to pay this time?"

Wanda didn't mind the rudeness, smiling mischievously as she walked past him to sit down. You cleared your throat awkwardly. "I left the money on the table, Bucky, if someone took it it wasn't my fault."

He buffs incredulously, shaking his head. "You really expect me to buy that one?"

But Wanda made an innocent expression, shrugging as she opened the menu. That Bucky guy sighed in defeat, turning his face to you to welcome you to the place as he pulled a small pad and pen from his apron pocket. 

As soon as you ordered your food, Bucky angrily warned Wanda that he was going to include the latter's price, and left dragging his feet. She rolled her eyes but didn't insist. 

You stared at her, your eyebrow raised in surprise.

"What?" she questioned.

"You have to pay for your food, Wanda. The staff members are the ones who pay for it when you don't." You reprimand her, but she snorts almost guiltily.

"Yeah, I know." She retorts, her fingers moving impatiently around the table - tapping, pulling napkins. "Charles had cut my allowance and I just needed a burger to make me feel better. Damn, I've been coming here since I was six, can't he hold a tab for me?"

You don't buy the story. "Why, because you're so special?" You retort with mild mockery that makes Wanda lock her jaw. Sighing, you move your unhurt hand to hold her anxious ones. "You can't take your frustrations out on others, Wands. And you can't expect to run from the consequences when you do things like this. Bucky could have called the police."

"Can we stop talking about this?" Wanda asks impatiently, pulling her hands away into her own lap. You swallow dryly, but don't take it personally. She never liked straight confrontations anyway. 

"What do you want to talk about?" your question makes her face light up softly.

"About us, of course! We have five years to catch up." She retorts. "I want to know everything you've been up to, and how you ended up back in this shithole that is Westview."

You chuckle, propping your elbows on the table before you start telling. You reminisce a little about Tony's heart disease, about the decision that you were better off living with Peggy and Steve in England, but that when your father's health deteriorated you returned to New York and stayed with him until he passed away. And then you mention the admissions letters for the student programs, and that when you saw the application to the Xavier Institute it seemed right to you.

Wanda chuckles at that.

"You should have picked a fancy academy in Paris, kotenok. Anywhere is better than this hellhole." She says, and you smile at her soft grimace. 

"Or maybe a Sokovian Exchange program, where I'd finally learn the language and be able to understand what so many nicknames mean." You retort but Wanda laughs mischievously, looking at you in a way that makes your face warm.

"Oh, don't be silly, my dear friend, you don't need an exchange program. I'll tell you now what they mean. I call you all the sweetest things, like kitten, sweetheart, darling, cutie..." 

You narrow your eyes at her with distrust because Wanda has a very suspicious little smile on her lips.

"I can't tell if you're mocking me now or not." You say to her, making her giggle. 

“I would never.” She guarantees without stopping smile, and that makes you even more suspicious than before. She seems ready to add something else, that funny look returning to her eyes, but your orders arrive next and Wanda forgets the subject when she sees the food.

You have the first bite at the same time, exclamations of satisfaction at the taste.

"Damn, I can hardly believe Frigga is still cooking so well." You comment as you finish chewing, reaching out for a napkin. 

Wanda smiles, murmuring in agreement as she chews. 

You eat in silence for a moment, but soon, you are stealing glances at each other, teasing and challenging one another in your gaze as to who will ask the first question of the afternoon. 

Wanda takes a sip of the soda, bites the end of the bio-degradable straw, and holds the glass with both hands, at least one ring on each finger. 

You only realize you are staring and absorbing every detail of her appearance because she lets out a short giggle, and you clear your throat, diverting as you are caught.

"I have to ask you something." You tell her as you regain composure, trying to transmit determination in your tone of voice even though your fingers are trembling from the way Wanda is looking at you as if she's going to eat you alive and enjoy it.

"Shoot." 

You clear your throat again. "Right. Wanda, why did you reactivate the mystery club?"

She frowns slightly, leaning over to take another long sip of her soda before shrugging. 

"What the hell are you talking about?" She retorts with confusion that you don't buy in the least. Not that Wanda isn't a good liar - she is, in fact, she used to be the best at it among the three of you when you were younger. - Now, she's barely trying. She seems interested in tormenting you for fun.

You huff softly. "Come on, Wanda." You insist, to the girl who has started spinning the rings on her fingers. "I know the club is back, and I also know that only you would have the audacity-"

But she cuts you off with a dry laugh. "And do you have evidence to back up that accusation of yours, milashka?" She challenges, and you stare at her in disbelief, biting the inside of your cheek.

At your hesitation, she smiles, pushing her tongue behind her teeth and looking absurdly beautiful with her eyes glittering with mischief. 

"I don't need to prove anything."

"Oh, but you do." She insists provocatively. "Have you forgotten how that works? If you have an accusation, you need proof. So the board can evaluate your statement."

You don't back down, leaning your arms on the table and staring back at her. "So you admit it? That the Club is standing?"

"I never said it wasn't. You accused me of being the person to reactivate it, and for this, you have no proof." She retorts with a little corner smile, and you roll your eyes impatiently, laughing with disbelief. 

"If not you, who else...?" You begin, but Wanda's gaze hesitates, and you understand. "Oh." Swallowing dryly, you try to meet her gaze again, but she pretends to be suddenly very interested in the fries. You clear your throat, and try more gently, "When did he do it?"

She shrugs, but you reach out for her forearm, and Wanda swallows dryly. It takes a moment, but she finally sighs and tells you, "As soon as we got into the Institute. Pietro always said it was meant for all three of us to be there, as we imagined it would be. He reactivated the club so we'd have something to remember you by."

"That's sweet..."

Wanda pulls her arm into her own lap, chuckling sadly. "It used to be." She says almost bitterly. "But we were growing up, Y/N. Our friends no longer wanted to participate in any silly scoter activities, or solve some childish mystery. They lost interest, and so did we. Pietro wanted to be popular, wanted to be captain of the team, and well, nobody wanted to be friends with the weird detective and his sister's little witch."

You frowned, shocked by the story. Wanda sighed, pinching her fingers in her own lap. "What happened then?"

She gives another sad laugh, "What do you think? The club was pretty much extinct, and Pietro figured it wasn't worth showing up for one last meeting. Instead, he went to a party with the soccer team. And well, the rest you already know."

"Fuck." You exclaimed in shock. Wanda cleared her throat, forcing a smile at you.

"We don't have to have these sad conversations at lunch, okay? I'll put on some music."

"But Wanda..." You started, but she was already getting up and walking away from the table toward the jukebox in the corner of the restaurant.

Since she was taking much longer than was necessary to choose a song, you glanced outside.

You saw Bucky putting out the trash, and smoking a cigarette with a blonde girl in the uniform of the gas station next to the restaurant. The name tag read 'Sharon Carter’. You looked forward to your table again, but you were no longer hungry.

Wanda kicked the jukebox softly, cursing low, and you sighed.

You searched your wallet for something to cover the bill, plus a generous tip before you got up and walked to the cashier.

"Hey, table 13." You said to the clerk with his back turned. Once the person turned, you choked softly. "Thor?"

"Y/N? Oh my god, look at you! All grown up!" He comments excitedly, moving a little closer to the cashier, gesturing. "I didn't know you were back in town!"

You giggle awkwardly. "Yeah, I'm studying at Xavier Institute for senior year. I got in last month."

"What? That's incredible!" Thor comments impressed. "But a month? I'm almost upset you didn't show up here sooner."

Your cheeks blush softly with embarrassment, and you give a lopsided smile. "Sorry." You mutter, but Thor chuckles, clearly not really angry. "But tell Frigga I came by, and compliment the food, it was incredible as I remember it."

"Oh, of course. Maybe next time you'll see her, just come on the twins' shift. You were lucky to see me here, I hardly ever stay at the bar, only when Loki has some unexpected event." He counters, pressing the cashier's button to open and check out your table. You hand him the money.

"And how are Loki and Sylvie?" 

Thor shrugs, smiling. "They're fine, when they're not running away from this job, they do some weird plays at the municipal theater."

You exclaim softly. "Are they still into magic?"

The blonde nods with a light chuckle. "Definitely, but magic shows don't pay as well. After they graduated, they went into theater. Sometimes they present stuff at your fancy school."

"I hope to see them there then." You say in a farewell tone, and Thor thanks you for coming one last time before you head back to Wanda.

Your cell phone vibrates midway, and you push the receipt into your pocket as you grab the device.

Kate has sent you dozens of messages, Yelena too. All about the fight. Peter tried to call. All wanted to know where you were and comment on what had happened. 

You could barely see the messages before Wanda reappeared, throwing an arm around your shoulders and almost making you lose your balance.

"Dude, will you get off your cell phone? Five years of not seeing me and you want to be typing with your rich friends." 

You laugh incredulously, placing a hand on her stomach and pushing her gently away. "You're my rich friend, grumpy." You mock and she grimaces but steps away. "My very possessive rich friend." You tease, though you put your cell phone down. "They're just looking for me because in case you've forgotten, I dashed off campus without notifying anyone after a bloody fight in the middle of the parking lot."

Wanda rolls her eyes softly. "Come on, who cares? No one saw you but me and Hill, and she didn't text you, I figure. The only person you owe an explanation to is me, and I'm right here, telling you to put down your phone and enjoy the afternoon with me." She bargains, blinking those lovely green eyes at you.

You don't know why Wanda is being so needy, but you don't really mind. You reach out your hand and pinch her nose in a way that makes her chuckle.

"Okay Maximoff, let's have some fun."

She leads the way outside, and you fail to realize that the music playing in the Odin Tavern is your favorite.

–//–

The leaves of the trees made sounds under your feet as you walked. The rays of sunlight streaming through the tall branches of the Municipal Park pine trees warmed your skin.

Wanda's jacket had been abandoned on the front seat, and her tank top didn't do much justice to covering the tattoo on her back, and you were biting your lip to keep from asking about it.

"I got it for my birthday last year." She declares without needing to explain why having caught you staring. "Not as nice as yours, though."

You snort in false indignation. "And I really believed that you weren't staring at me changing-"

"I wasn't staring!" She defends herself with a mischievous smile. "Although it was very difficult not to."

You chuckle shyly, patting her on the arm as you walk along the old Bear Trail - as you named it when you were kids because you could swear some of the bigger trees were shaped like that.

"I can't believe Captain Rogers took you for a tattoo, too." Wanda mutters.

You chuckle short, denying it with your head. "It wasn't him. It was Tony, before, you know. He wanted something for me to remember him by."

Wanda kicks a small stone on her way: "Kind of morbid, not gonna lie, the heart thing. But I suppose it's symbolic. And I didn't get a good look at it to judge-"

"My God, are you asking to see me shirtless?" You cut her off, stunned, and Wanda almost tripped on the way.

Her cheeks burning, she retorted indignantly, "What? I didn't mean it like that!" She defends herself, but you are laughing, and she sighs. "Oh, are you mocking me? Very funny, Y/N. Mature too."

She grimaces, and you step forward to mess up her hair, earning a loud grunt in return. Before Wanda can get her revenge, you were already running away from her.

You know the way like the back of your hand, and the trees begin to open up until you end up in an open plain, on the edge of what is both a park and an off-limits area. There are some old danger signs, and you bite your lips as you reach the low wooden fence.

" Slow down, Y/N! I smoke now, did you forget?" Wanda asks breathlessly a little further back, but you giggle, jumping over the wooden fence to continue the run.

The forested area gives way to dirty asphalt, but it is just as empty as the park area. You come out into a yard, and there is a row of houses ahead, all with thick timbers covering the windows and doors, with damaged and graffitied paint. 

A neighborhood nameplate lies destroyed on the ground, covered with mold and grass growing all over the place.

You stop walking to stare at the tall house in front of you, a half-breathless smile leaving your lips.

Wanda appears beside you, giving you a gentle nudge on the shoulders.

"You don't have to rush, you know. Your old house isn't going anywhere." She complains, stepping out in front of you, and you sigh before following her.

"Of all places, why did you bring me here?" You ask curiously, but Wanda limits herself to a short laugh.

She guides you along the yard, past the musty pool to the driveway. You notice that the lock is new, and you are not surprised that Wanda takes the keys from the car keychain there. 

The inside of the garage doesn't look anything like the rest of the environment. It's practically all renovated, like a cozy, very comfortable lounge. Wanda put leather armchairs, bookshelves, and even a television that you had fun imagining her carrying there. There was a mini fridge, soccer table, and even a washing machine.

"How...?"

"Before the renovation, we could bring the truck around." She clears your doubts about transporting heavier items. You look around in complete shock as Wanda closes the garage door. "But then those idiots at Bishop Security got the warrant to destroy the bridge and now I can only access this place through the park."

You trace your finger through some lost belongings, loose magazines, decorative objects, and more traffic tickets. And you recognize the blank mystery club cards just like America and Kamala's.

"No one has ever tried to go back to this neighborhood?" You ask with your back to her, continuing to look around. 

Wanda laughs wryly. "After all that? No chance. Someone tweeted the news of the radiation evacuation, and the mayor kind of declared this area uninhabitable even without the reports from Osborn's people, who insisted that it was okay to live here. Just like your family, all the rich people fled these houses overnight."

You chuckled humorlessly, reaching out to reach for a picture frame on the bookshelf. It was the Maximoff twins on Halloween of their 8th birthday, adorable in their costumes.

"And let me guess, Pietro thought this was a perfect hiding place." You commented, looking at the mischievous expression on your friend's picture. 

Wanda smiled, moving closer. "Actually, it was my idea." She counters, and you look away from the photo to her. "Pietro wanted to do that in the attic of our house."

You laughed. "Your father would have found out in a week." You comment, but to your surprise, Wanda's chuckle is short almost sad.

"If he paid attention, of course." She mutters, and you don't know what to say about that, so you say nothing.

She reaches up to move something on the wall, pulling out a bulletin board hidden behind the washing machine. She places it on top, and you watch her cross out yesterday's date with a pen on the calendar.

Before you can see more of the scribbles there, she hides the item back, and as she stares at you, she has an eyebrow raised in your direction. "For members only, malyshka." She teases.

You snort in indignation. "I founded this club."

She leans against the machine, shrugging. "You've abandoned this club."

You roll your eyes. "That's not true! We came to an agreement for its demise, and it's not my fault if you and Pietro decided to bring it back on!" You defend yourself, but Wanda has a mischievous grin and shrugs again.

"Really, Y/N, it's just protocol..."

"My god you are ridiculous!" You complain approaching to pick up the board but Wanda steps forward into your path and doesn't move out of the way. "Wands..."

A gentle nudge on your shoulders, and then another and another until you have taken enough steps backward to trip over the carpet and fall into the armchair.

"Dorogoya, here's what we're going to do." Wanda begins, raising a finger to her chin as she circles the armchair. "If you want to have membership privileges, you need to be recruited."

You huff impatiently. "I literally founded the club..."

"And as you remember, there are rules to being part of the group." Wanda ignores you completely, a mischievous smile on her lips as she circles the armchair. "Rule Number One, you need to be recruited by someone on the inside."

You make mention of getting up, but Wanda grabs your shoulder from behind and pulls you sitting on the leather again. Your speech about how ridiculous that was dies in your throat as she brings her mouth up to your ear level.

"But don't worry about that one, of course, I'm dying to have you all over me again." She teases huskily in your ear, and you shudder from head to toe. "Let's focus on rule two then."

Despite your nervousness, you handle retorting, "I got the rules out of an action movie, I highly doubt they mean anything..."

Wanda chuckles softly, pulling away to return to your field of vision. "Very little, but it's fun to watch you struggle with it. Consider it a welcome gift."

You roll your eyes. "Tormenting me is your gift?" You question, to which she only smiles. "I just want to know why our club is running again. Why don't you just tell me?"

You expected a smart or rude response, but Wanda stares at you seriously, and slowly leans in, giving you no choice but to back away until your back is against the seat. She rests her hands on the armchairs, her face at the same height as yours.

"You and I, detka, had our trust in each other shattered." She begins to explain, you swallow dryly. "So if you want to know my secrets, you're gonna have to prove yourself worthy of my trust again."

You stare into her green eyes and find no hesitation in them. That is until you let your gaze fall to her lips. But it only lasts half a second, and you are already staring Wanda in the eyes again.

"My apology wasn't enough for you?"

Wanda licks her lips. "Forgiveness and Forgetfulness are not the same thing." She retorts, clearing her throat softly when she almost leans in too far. Her gaze softens. "I want to trust you again, completely, like before you left, before the club ended."

You move a hand to hers on the chair. "Then just trust me, Wanda." You tried, but she shook her head.

"I need more than words, detka." She whispers. "You made promises you didn't keep, and I know it wasn't your fault, but I can't stop hearing them in my head. I need your actions to speak louder."

You swallow dryly, but nod in understanding. "Okay, Wanda, tell me what to do."

To your surprise, she chuckles, her frown frowning in fake confusion. "Tell you? Detka, have you forgotten how this works?" She teases, stepping away and standing properly. "It's the Mystery Club, baby. You solve a mystery to get in."

You bite your tongue, watching Wanda walk away to a locker. She stands on tiptoe to pick up a metal box at the bottom between the timbers, and it has to be on purpose the way she bends her butt toward you. You look away, your face burning, and she has a satisfied smile as she comes back to you.

She drops a card in your lap and crosses her arms. You take the item without opening it. "And what will you do for me?"

She sighs thoughtfully. "We could make out..."

"Wanda!" You exclaim in shock, blushing heavily. She laughs innocently.

"What? I'm sure you're a virgin..."

You grunt indignantly, getting up. "Fuck off if you're gonna keep making fun of me." You grumble angrily, making your way to the exit as Wanda tries to control her giggling.

You pull the garage door open, but before you can get out, she calls out to you.

"What do you need to trust me again?" She asks.

You sigh sadly, putting the letter away in your jacket pocket.

"I never stopped trusting you, Wanda."  You retort, and her posture breaks completely. She uncrosses her arms, and looks ready to say something, but loses her nerve. You hold the garage door open. "I'll be at school, call me if you need anything. Any time, any day."

A lump forms in Wanda's throat. She has a flash of memory - It's you at about eleven years old in her bedroom window, having gone to say goodbye to her on summer vacation because Wanda broke her arm and her father wouldn't let her travel. You are many centimeters shorter than you are now, but you look at her the same way and say almost the same thing: "I'll borrow my Dad's phone. You can call me, Wands, any time, any day."

The memory is gone at the same speed it came. You blink at her, and Wanda swallows dryly.

"See you soon, punk." It's your goodbye before you pull the door down.

Wanda thinks she's stupid for crying when she feels the tears on her face, but in five years, it's the first time it's been from happiness, so she doesn't really mind.

–//–

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #Mystery Club

[brother-emperors]

Hey Cardinal, you ve talked a little bit about Crassus tending to open his house to all levels of society and his treatment of his domestic staff and slaves, and I would love to hear more of your thoughts about it?

OH BOY. Okay. So I had to think about this one for two months, because the first attempt to answer this resulted in about ten pages of writing and that’s. arguably too much. I’ve attempted to condense my thoughts down here as much as possible, but. we’ll see how it goes! somehow this is still over a thousand words!

Gonna start this off by tacking this at the top of it.

The Cambridge World History of Slavery, Volume 1: The Ancient Mediterranean World, ed. Keith Bradley and Paul Cartledge

To follow that up though, there was no cohesive slave identity shared across the broad scope of people who were slaves in ancient rome, because the lived experiences of each group (agricultural, domestic, freedmen/women, gladiatorial, etc) were so different (for example, freedmen could go on to own slaves themselves, slaves in the mines and working in rural agricultural conditions were the least likely to have a shot at gaining freedom because that would be a loss of income for the roman that owned them, etc) that to associate it all as a uniform identity-experience is also Not Good.

(ibid)

ANYWAY. So my focus on Crassus here has three sides to it.

for the sake of simplicity, we will be using The Cambridge World History of Slavery, Volume 1: The Ancient Mediterranean World, ed. Keith Bradley and Paul Cartledge (unless otherwise cited), at the end, I'll tack on some other reading outside of the body of text that I've written.

The most immediate side is that I’m interested in the lives of slaves in the Late Republic, but in a broader scope than the handful of individuals who have historical prominence, you know? Slaves and freedmen occupied a unique social space in the Late Republic, and had a political-social prominence, and I’m curious about which politicians recognized them as a block worth paying attention to. I want to see what they have to say in the absence of a voice.

you can see that the potential social flexibility of the slave was a problem for the Augustan Age/Early Empire by laws that were passed to curtail this, which in turns says something about their role in Late Republic life and society.

So, slaves are an extension of the house they belong to, which is a deeply simplified understanding of all of this so bear with me a little! There’s a social contract, so to speak, that when granted freedom, the (now) freedman has a patron-client relationship with his former owner, who has an obligation to maintain this dynamic.

Freed Slaves and Roman Imperial Culture, Rose MacLean

ALRIGHT. We’re getting to the point where this involves Crassus, hang on.

So Crassus in Plutarch’s bio sounds off that he’s got a lot of slaves, and a lot of mines, but the ones of most value are his slaves in Rome specifically, because they were trained (some personally, by Crassus himself) and skilled in high demand areas, and were sought after. Aside from the obvious, the part that strikes me as interesting is that this is not. an insignificant number. Plutarch says five hundred. That’s a recognizable amount of people in Rome who have a certain amount of social flexibility (the slaves of upper class or political heavy weights had less in common with the urban poor, and frequently interact with other houses of political influence) and all of those people are attached to Crassus.

This would extend even further to any of them who gained their freedom, because that would continue over into a patron-client relationship, and those five hundred slaves mentioned by Plutarch are all in a group that are the most likely to have a chance at buying their freedom. Whether or not this was the case is a huge Who Knows! because Plutarch skips over huge chunks of Crassus' life to get to the political machinations of conspiracy.

Less abstractly and more straightforwardly: Crassus and Clodius were well aware of the political-violence potential of slaves

Roman Freedmen in the Late Republic, Susan Treggiari

This contrasts heavily against, say, Pompey, who has several named slaves/freedmen in his biography that indicate levels of a personal relationship or friendship (we cannot use the mentions of individuals in Pompey's biography to assume that he was inclined to giving his own slaves freedom), and Caesar himself seems to have been even more insular than Pompey in this.

Roman Freedmen in the Late Republic, Susan Treggiari

There’s an underlying thing happening, though, later in Pompey’s life: Pompey (and Caesar) later rival Crassus in terms of wealth, but the difference has to do with location, land distribution, and slaves. Crassus seems to have most of his wealth concentrated in or near Rome (slaves, architecture, renting properties, the fire brigade, etc) with less of a focus on agriculture-mines for an income and more on. this. I'm still going through a couple of books for more on this vague train of thought, but its. something to think about.

Roman Freedmen in the Late Republic, Susan Treggiari

Pompey and Caesar seemed to follow the trend the rest of their military-senatorial contemopraries were following, which. would have inadvertently led to a worsening economic disparity in Rome (the urban poor + displaced farmers being driven off their land and forced to go to Rome for work because the influx of slaves from military conquests was a source of income that slave owners would have hated to give up)

there’s. some kind of additional thought in here about the crucifixion of the six thousand as a display of power and a threat to anyone else who was thinking of revolting against rome. Crassus seemed to have forgone the idea of taking anyone after the battle as a slave and opted for total annihilation, which falls in line with how he could be a ruthless motherfucker when it came to establishing order and did not apparently view this as an economic opportunity.

which moves on to my second thing about Crassus, I think that part of why he had his house open to people across different social classes and wasn’t prone to lavish displays of whatever had to do with how he grew up. I also think that it ties back to Crassus honing in on groups of people and realizing that they had political importance in some way. Plutarch’s bio makes note that he spent time advocating on behalf of anyone who needed it, even on cases that Caesar wouldn’t touch. That is an absolutely KILLER way to build up your reputation in a way where you would not necessarily need to traditionally align yourself with either of the two major political parties, and would lend you a lot of good will with groups of people who are not given voices in historical accounts. An absence of voice does not mean an absence of body!

Which ties into the third thing, Crassus occupies a third space in politics. Crassus specifically appears to drift around without much harm done to his reputation where it counts (Cicero gives him shit for it, but he still managed to get out of several sticky situations mostly unscathed) (Crassus’ appearances in other biographies indicate someone who is not firmly aligned one way or another politically as well, which is fascinating for other reasons).

I think generally, Crassus had his finger to the pulse of the many beating hearts of Rome's groups and understood on some level, the potential power of each one.

Those are my thoughts! also I’m going back in time to the Augustan Age and putting thumbtacks into all of Octavian’s shoes!

ADDITIONAL READING

Freed Slaves and Roman Imperial Culture, Rose MacLean

Roman Freedmen in the Late Republic, Susan Treggiari

The Cambridge World History of Slavery, Volume 1: The Ancient Mediterranean World, ed. Keith Bradley and Paul Cartledge

my point of contention with the last one is that Crassus didn't go on enough military campaigns to rival the other men in this group for it to be an even comparison, especially since he had an opportunity with the Spartacus Revolt and executed six thousand people instead.

#ask tag #long post #good grief is it long #hopefully any of it makes sense. im an artist. i draw comics. the only thing ive taught as an instructor in a classroom was catholic #catechism lmaoo and that was half by accident #book club tag #tris homines