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apute11as · 5 months

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Everything happens for a reason part 3 - Alexia putellas x pregnant!reader

Author note- hey guys here’s part 3! Hope you are enjoying the series! Please leave a comment with any feedback (positive or otherwise) it’s always helpful 🤍🤍

Warnings⚠️ swearing (that’s about it I think) it’s mostly angst

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Part 1- https://www.tumblr.com/apute11as/733631966220582912/everything-happens-for-a-reason-alexia-putellas

Part 2- https://www.tumblr.com/apute11as/735082085825576960/everything-happens-for-a-reason-part-2-alexia

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The next day rolled around fairly quickly as you and Alessia had made a brief exit, claiming travel sickness to be the cause of your tearful exit from the room. As you woke up the next day you were met with the sound of a blaring alarm that read 6:30am.

Groaning you began to trudge out of bed, as Alessia did the same from the other bed.

“What are you doing?” Rung Alessia’s sleepy voice.

“Getting ready for training?” you said, puzzled.

“Oh are you sure you want to play, do you feel well?” questioned the striker

“yeah surprisingly I feel alright this morning” you smiled but you were soon cut off by a harsh ringing of your phone and were met with Alexia’s face plastered across your screen. You hesitated at first but then clicked the green button.

“Bon dia mi amor, I was starting to this you weren’t awake” came the a husky, Catalonian voice.

“Hey baby yeah I’m up sorry just misplaced my phone.” you assured her.

“How is camp are you feeling better now?” she asked, her voice laced with concern.

You hesitated for a moment, wondering if maybe you should just share your concerns with your wife, knowing that she could potentially offer clarity. However you ultimately decided against it as you had your mind set on attending the World Cup and playing as much as possible. Your mind wandered as you began working it out in your head, realising that by the end of the tournament, you’d be almost 3 months pregnant which would likely carry risks when you played.

“Princesa? Are you still there?” your wife questioned with worry.

“Lo siento Ale I’m here, I’m just so tired sorry my mind isn’t focusing.” you offered

“I understand bebita, I’ll call you back later vale?” the Spaniard inquired.

“Sí of course I’ll call you after training, te quiero mucho Alexia.” you voiced

“I love you too amor.” she replied blowing a kiss at the screen, which you returned before ending the call.

“You ok?” Asked Alessia with a pitiful smile.

“Yeah I’m good. Thank you Less I really mean it.” you replied

“always and we’ll get the test later to calm your mind down” she smiled

———

The morning had been relatively smooth, with minimal nausea and training with the girls had even distracted you completely for a number of hours- something that you welcomed with open arms. During the rondo is when it all started to take a turn for the worse. You felt yourself growing more easily tired than usual, struggling to catch your breath after a run down the wing, the sick feeling started to form.

You’d been stood in a small huddle half way through the drill when you felt the bile begin to rise in your throat and before you knew it you were making a run to the changing rooms and throwing up in the nearest bin. Alessia and Mary were close behind and you felt a hand rubbing up your back as you dry heaved into the bin.

“come on y/n we’re going to get the medicine” said Alessia

“what medicine?” you questioned, whilst attempting to regain your composure.

“You know what we talked about getting at lunch? To cure your illness” she said through gritted teeth as your mind finally caught up.

“Ohh ok yes sorry” you replied, eyes darting between her and Mary.

“What’s up with you?” Asked Mary, concerned.

“Just the flu we think” you answered, stoically.

“Should you be playing??” She urged

“Probably not but I didn’t want to worry anyone” you lied about your condition

“Y/N your health should come first always!” Mary insisted.

“Sorry Mar it will next time I promise” you offered, which seemed to be enough for you as she allowed you and Alessia to leave, whilst she told the team of your suspected flu- an answer they gave little question to.

———

The journey to the shop was brief. You slipped in with hoods up and made sure to use self checkout to minimise the risk of being spotted because what a scandal that would cause.

Once you returned to your shared room, the two of you made your way to the bathroom, carrying three different brands of pregnancy test in your bag.

“Do you want to do them all at once?” Alessia inquired.

“I mean I doubt I have the pee control to do it any other way” you replied, attempting to lighten the tense mood.

You sat down on the toilet and held the tests below you as Alessia turned to face the door. Once you’d taken them, you turned all three face down on the counter and the two of you sat on the stone floor of the bathroom with a 5 minute timer on Alessia’s phone. Your mind wandered to your wife in Spain as the guilt crept in about keeping this potentially life changing moment from her.

Before you could get too absorbed in your thoughts, the timer sounded signifying it was time to check the tests.

“you’ve got this.” Reassured the blonde with a small smile.

“3, 2, 1” you rehearsed before flipping the text.

First one: positive

Second one: positive

Third one: positive

“Oh shit” Alessia voiced.

“Oh shit indeed.”

“What are you gonna do? Shall I get your phone I can leave whilst you call alexia?” Said the striker.

“No. She can’t know.” You responded emotionlessly.

“What why not?” Alessia questioned, shock evident in her tone.

“She’ll stop me from playing Alessia. I have to play! By the time it’s noticeable the World Cup will be done and I’ll tell her then to cheer her up if neither of us win it or to add fuel to the celebration if one of us does. Oh my god what if she’s not happy?” your breathing picks up rapidly “she wanted the baby before but what if she’s changed her mind Alessia?” Your breathing was becoming frantic.

“Calm down y/n/n breathe just breathe” Alessia said putting a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“I can’t Alessia! What if she leaves me? I can’t raise a baby on my own!” You began to hyperventilate, reaching a state of full blown panic.

“Y/n you need to breathe ok, we can sort all that after, you don’t need to tell alexia today just calm down, breathe, think of the baby ok, breathe for the baby!” Alessia urged.

“Ok ok” you said steadying your breath, Alessia’s grip on your shoulders grounding you.

“You feeling calmer now?” questioned the blonde.

“Yes thank you Alessia it really means a lot” you smiled, hugging the younger girl.

——

The first game of the tournament came around fast. With it being Haiti, you weren’t too concerned as they hadn’t been an especially tough team in the past. You still hadn’t told Alexia about the pregnancy. Although Alessia had managed to convince you to see a doctor, luckily she wasn’t a football fan so had no idea who the two of you were, and much to your amusement she confused you as a couple which sent the two of you into fits of giggles, before correcting her. You and Alexia still kept in contact, she’d noticed something off with you but each time she’d brought it up, you shut her down with and blamed it on fatigue. She wasn’t stupid and didn’t buy a word of it but she also knew you’d tell her in your own time, whatever it was so she didn’t push.

When sarina announced you to be in the starting eleven you sighed heavily, realising that the game would be tougher than anticipated. What’s more, you were playing centre back. Normally, you played CDM or on occasion CM but with Leah out and Millie having picked up a light injury in training, England were short on reliable centre backs.

As the whistle sounded to signify the start of the match, you drew a sharp breath in anticipation of the difficulty these next 90 minutes would prevail.

—

Half time came around eventually. After a gruelling first half, you welcomed the break. You were leading 1-0 only thanks to a penalty from Georgia, which wasn’t overly comforting as Haiti were putting up a fair fight. You were forced to make some risky tackles, many of which ended up with you on the floor, body twisted at awkward angles. This did nothing to help Alessia’s growing anxiety for you. She’d become protective over you as she felt partially responsible, being the only one who knew about the pregnancy still. Every time you’d gone down with a challenge, she’d been by your side, checking you over (despite being practically on opposite ends of the pitch).

What you didn’t know was that Alexia was sat in a hotel room, watching every interaction and was beginning to grow suspicious of your new found closeness to the blonde striker. Lingering touches which to you and Alessia were nothing more than her checking on you and the baby, to Alexia were symbols of a growing affection between the two of you. Her jaw remained clenched at every interaction.

——

The game ended 1-0. A tight win but the three points were yours nonetheless. Your body ached all over. As you headed for the coach in a slumped motion due to the fatigue, you were stopped with a warm hand on your shoulder, one that belonged to Lucy Bronze.

“Hey Luce are you ok?” you sighed out.

“I’m alright Mrs putellas but are you?” She asked with concern. You cringed at the nickname she gave you before responding.

“Tough match that’s all, why do you ask?” you inquired with a furrowed brow.

“Alexia told me you weren’t yourself lately, asked me to check up on you. Oh and also I was quite concerned to hear that you didn’t tell her about your quite awful round of the flu the other week?” she questioned

“Oh erm must of slipped my mind?” You offered weakly.

“Yeah I’m sure, what’s really up Y/N?” Questioned the brunette.

“I-I can’t tell you” you stuttered, eyes damp with tears that threatened to fall at any moment.

“Why not, you know you can trust me with anything?” she said, face contorted with a mixture of confusion and hurt.

“I know Lucy and I love you for it but it’s personal I’m sorry.” you half smiled at her

“Yeah yeah I get that, you don’t have to tell me but you should really tell your wife.” She rebounded.

“No she can’t know!” You said on reflex, as though you were talking about it to Alessia.

“Know what? Y/N I’m worried now what’s going on?” Lucy pushed further.

“Y/N” called Alessia, jogging towards the two of you. “Are you coming?” She gestured to the bus.

“Yeah of course.” You smiled at the striker. Lucy however, didn’t miss the relaxation of your body at Alessia’s presence. Making a mental note to bring this up when Alexia called again.

——

Alexia’s POV

Y/N has been off with me for weeks. Ever since that day she left for the World Cup, she’s been so distant. At first I thought it was to do with us being rivals at the World Cup but now I fear there’s something more.

After watching her game against Haiti, I noticed her closeness with Russo, England’s young striker. My stomach twisted in discomfort as I watched them interact, Y/N responding to her touch in the way she’d normally only do for me. Jealousy rippled through me, could it be? Is this why she’s been off with me? Was my wife really cheating on me with her teammate?

Back to neural POV

Frantically, Alexia called Lucy for the second time this week. After a few rings she picked up.

“Hola Capi” sounded the English- twinged Spanish of Lucy bronze.

“Hola Lucia, well done on the game”

“Gracias Alexia? Not to be rude but why are you calling me?” She questioned

“Has Y/N been acting weird at all?” She asked simply

“Funny you say that she was being odd earlier. She seemed sad so I asked her what was up and I got minimal response but then I got her to crack a little. She told me there was something but she couldn’t tell me. Then Alessia came along and grabbed her to go to the bus. They spent the whole journey whispering about something so I’m not sure what to take from it?” Offered Lucy

“That little bitch” snapped alexia

“Woah what now?” Questioned Lucy at the harsh words Alexia had just produced

“I think she’s cheating on me Luce” replied alexia, both anger and sadness laced her voice.

“Oh wow Ale that’s a huge conculsion to jump to.” Stated the older woman.

“Well did you not see how much they touched eachother in that game. I was observing them the whole time Alessia was practically glued to her at every opportunity.” Snarled alexia.

“Now that you say it they’ve been spending a lot of time together but I wouldn’t make any rash decisions on the matter Alexia.” Offered Lucy.

“Thanks Lucy I’m gonna call her now.” Alexia stated harshly

——

After the team bus made its way back to the hotel in Sydney, you and Alessia wandered up to your rooms (next door to eachother as requested). You’d barely been back and hour before you received a FaceTime from your wife. Weird, you’d thought. It was a couple of hours earlier than you’d discussed but you brushed it off and answered anyways.

“Hola mi amor” you spoke down the phone.

“Fuck you” came your wife’s angry tone

“W-what? Mi Vida are you ok?” You asked with concern in your voice

“You’re cheating on me are you, with Russo?” She snarled

“WHAT?! No Alexia where did you get that from?” you were shocked at this revelation

“I saw the two of you in that game, every time you were tackled she was right beside you. She’s up front you’re a defender for fucks sake you’re miles away from each other!” She practically yelled down the phone.

“Alexia no it’s not like that at all, she’s just been looking out for me.” You reassured the Spaniard.

“Looking out for you? I know we’re not seeing eachother for a while but i didn’t realise you were pathetic enough to need another woman to satisfy you! It’s been 3 fucking weeks Y/N!” She roared

“You don’t understand Alexia I needed someone to talk to, to support me in person.” you were in tears now.

“SUPPORT YOU? What the fuck with? I call you everyday to check in and you won’t tell me anything so you’re whoring yourself out to the next person you can find!” She pushed further

“No Alexia! It’s not like that not at all please!” You begged

“Then what is it huh? What could you possibly need support with that I can’t give you right now?!” She boomed

“Alexia, I’m- I’m pregnant! The IVF worked its your baby, sorry you had to find out like this.” you burst into tears.

Alexia sat there in shock. You were pregnant, with her baby, how could she have been so stupid!

—————

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #espwnt #fcb femeni #espwnt x reader #fcb femeni x reader #alessia russo #alexia putellas x reader #lionesses #alessia russo x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas

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hongism · 5 months

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SWEET JUICE - s.mingi (18+)

➼ genre; fantasy, smut ➼ pairing; mingi x fem!reader ➼ au; strangers to lovers, magic au, witches/warlocks au ➼ warnings; explicit smut ➼ rating; m/18+ ➼ wc; 10.7k

the new apothecary in your small village is harboring a dark secret, you're certain of it, if only because he bears a starkly familiar crest on his shop sign - one that denotes the presence of magic.

part of the ...and it's snowing collab.

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➼ smut warnings; sex toys, unprotected sex, comeshots, begging, fingering, multiple orgasms, size kink, hand kink, mention of belly bulging, dacryphilia

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Normally, you aren’t one to be so deeply entrenched in the petty gossip going around town, especially when newcomers are not exactly scarce in these parts. This one in particular — the young man who moved here by himself and immediately set up an apothecary shop in the heart of the village — has been on the lips of almost everyone you’ve bumped into for the past week. Ever since the Summer’s End Festival, it seems all your neighbors can think to talk about is this mysterious lone wolf. Unfortunately for you, that means your interest has been piqued both out of nosiness and out of a potential opportunity.

“You said he’s nice?”

“Yeah! I mean, I didn’t meet him personally. I was busy running the stall while Yunho was doing all the socializing, but Gerda came over and she said he’s a rather nice and charming young man.”

You appraise the man across the counter with a far less enthused grin. It doesn’t deter Seonghwa from his egregious nods of encouragement, however. So, you continue to pack away the little bundles of herbs that you’ve been preparing all morning into the man’s satchel.

“She says that about everyone under the age of fifty. I think it’s her duty as an old woman to say that. What did Yunho say about him?”

“Hm, what did Yunho say about him…” Seonghwa brings a neatly manicured nail to his chin as he mulls over your question. You snap the buckle of his bag into its proper place now that you’ve given him all you need to and set your hands down on the counter. “He was fairly charmed too, I believe. I mean, in terms of the guy’s personality. You know his gaze goes in one single direction for all other aspects of things.” He flattens his palm against his cheek and doesn’t even bother to hide the smugness that creeps over his expression.

“Don’t get cocky now,” you cut in before Seonghwa can redirect the conversation towards himself.

“Is it being cocky if I’m just repeating what he says all the time though? Oh my Seonghwa, you’re so pretty, the only man I could ever look at, I never grow weary of seeing your darling face. It’s truly romance at its finest.”

“Back to the new guy, Hwa.”

“Hmph. You’re more interested in him than you were in me when I first moved here!”

“You didn’t run a shop when you first got here. Otherwise, I would’ve been just as eager, promise.” Seonghwa narrows his eyes at you, lips drawing into what must be an attempt at a frown but it’s so half-hearted and soft around the edges that you can’t be sure. “I’m trying to establish a financially beneficial supply line with this guy. Thus, I need to know what he’s like so that I know how much bargaining I ought to prepare for before going to speak with him.”

“He’s nice, not much of a talker from what I could tell watching him from a distance, and he mostly stuck near the bonfire. Though it was still damp from the rain earlier that day, and autumn was already sending in her cooler breezes. Anyone who hasn’t acclimated to our lovely finicky weather acts like that when they first arrive here. Spoke to everyone who approached him. Talks with his hands a lot. Very—” Seonghwa makes a few vague gestures consisting of him just waving his hands in the air a bit “—big. Not quite taller than Yunho, but broader and like… meatier, I suppose. I wonder if I should give Yunho bigger meal portions actually, he might need it. Really, how does he stay so skinny even doing all the heavy lifting around the house? Do you have any herbs good for muscle growth?”

“Alright, I’ve had enough of you, that’s it.” Seonghwa’s protest comes immediately. “No, because last time you did this, you started asking me about concoctions to make his semen taste better, and that is not a conversation we’re going to be repeating!” He grabs his satchel off the counter as you hop up from your stool, though he still tries to appear very upset over the matter while pulling it over his head.

“Well, tell me when you’re planning on going over there at least. I can give you a meal before you go home since it’s a bit of a trek to get back here.”

“I’ll go tomorrow. There’s still some inventory left over from the summer that I need to sort out. And I need to prepare some decor for the Autumn Festival sooner rather than later. Ugh, I got so behind on my work it’s infuriating.” You’ve been slacking a little more than you usually do this past week on account of being bedridden for five days straight. You thought you were going to avoid getting sick at the end of summer for once, but your body had other plans for you and decided to push it into the start of the fall season instead. That’s the only reason you need this information about the newcomer from Seonghwa so desperately: otherwise, you would have been at that very festival and been able to witness the man for yourself.

“Oh, speaking of, everyone missed you last week! And told me to send you well wishes, which are obviously not needed anymore, but the sentiment is the same nonetheless, no?”

You send Seonghwa off with a few extra herbs pressed into his hands and wishes for safe travels. It ought to only take him fifteen minutes to walk back to town, but he came by rather late and the sun is already setting so you don’t want him to get caught alone in the dark on his way. He is kind enough to allow your nagging, only pinching your cheek when you tell him once more to quit asking about recipes and herbs to use on Yunho’s dick.

Once you’re content seeing him reach the end of your garden path, you flick your wrist in the direction of your crops. The drizzle that suddenly starts falling from the sky is light enough to not be much of a hindrance to Seonghwa, though you’ll be certain to bring down some heavier rainfall after he disappears over the edge of the hill. Though your closest friend in the village, you still haven’t had the heart to tell him what exactly brought you to this remote place or what you were running from when you came. He only knows that you came here nearly eight years ago on your own and with nothing to your name, and by the time he and Yunho came along, you were already three years into building your business of selling herbs year-round.

In truth, your witchcraft is not illegal by the nature of it being magick. Rather, you yourself are the problem being a witch in name instead of the formally accepted term warlock. Should anyone with any sort of agenda against you discover that you are a defector using your magick when you are no longer a practicing warlock, then you would likely lose everything you have here in this place. It took you two years just to find a town secure and remote enough for you to feel comfortable living in, and eight more to reach this point of stability. You don’t consider Seonghwa to be someone driven by monetary promise or swayed by others’ opinions, but there is just enough doubt that’s crept into your heart over the years to keep you silent.

“How depressing,” you mutter, turning back to your cottage and heading inside. You make the rain fall just a little harder to go along with your sudden decline in mood.

…

Perhaps, you think, there is some goddess out there who is keen on causing you inordinate levels of distress. Because although today was supposed to be nothing more than a calm and friendly meeting in the hopes of establishing a business partnership, you cannot push yourself to even approach the door to the new apothecary. The name of the shop is insignificant on its own — Mortar and Cauldron — and you wouldn’t think twice about getting up from this cursed bench you now find yourself on if that was all there was to it. Yet for some godforsaken reason, this man has deigned to put a symbol behind the name, one that mimics one of the crests belonging to the House of Ballads (the very one you defected from a decade ago). Some deity must surely be playing a sick prank on you.

There are a few routes you could take in this situation. You could pretend you never came and forget the idea of creating a supply line, missing out on some revenue sure but it’s not like you wouldn’t be able to make up for it in other areas. You could go in and confront the newcomer, demanding to know who he is and what he’s doing here on the off chance that he’s truly some bumbling idiot who has no clue what symbols he’s drawn into his signs. He could very well be a defector himself, you suppose, although it would be suicide to use one of the House’s official crests as one. Or you could simply play the part of the fool yourself, act none the wiser, and pretend to be the normal citizen you are. Even if this man were truly from the House, he would not recognize your face because you were never formally entered into the place. You had been merely part of a small church sect on the outskirts of the capital, far from the House of Ballads and all its operations. The name you held while there has already been burned to ash and nothingness, likely stricken from all their records as well the moment you disappeared. If they wanted you dead — well, they would have had you killed long ago. So, you seem to have your best course of action.

“I know my decor isn’t the most appealing, but I don’t think it warrants such a foul expression.” The voice resonates so close to your ear that you truly feel the vibration in your teeth, but moreso, it startles you out of your skin, and you all but launch yourself off the bench with an embarrassing yelp. Just behind the bench where you were, there stands a man you don’t recognize. Tall, with sharp features and equally piercing dark eyes, and dressed in black from head to toe complete with a scarf draped over his head to mimic the hood of a cloak. It doesn’t fully shroud his borderline psychedelic hair — an unnatural yellow shade that blends into a fiery orange-red and makes his head look more like a torch than anything else. “Hello. Sorry for surprising you like that, it wasn’t my intention to make a first impression in such a way.”

Ah. If not for your racing heart, you would have put two and two together far sooner, because obviously, this would be the mystery owner of the apothecary, considering how you recognize everyone in town.

“Would you like to come in and look around? I was simply across the street to get some bread.” He tilts his head back in the direction of none other than Seonghwa’s shop. One glance at the storefront gives you enough of a clue as to whose fault it is that you’re having this unsavory first encounter because said man is pressed up against the window and staring through it directly at you. You have to fight the urge to scowl at him until after your newcomer steps out of your line of sight. Seonghwa tucks a stray piece of hair behind his ear and sends you a far-too-cheery thumbs-up. You turn away with a less subtle middle finger.

Despite the muggy weather and cooler temperatures, the inside of the apothecary is warm. It almost feels a bit humid thanks to the rain outside, but not unbearably so. And considering how long you were sitting out there getting rained on, you welcome the heat quite a bit.

“You wouldn’t happen to be the friend Seonghwa mentioned, would you?” He catches you with the question as you’re undoing the knot holding your cloak around your shoulders. “I don’t recall seeing you at last week’s festival, though I didn’t have the chance to introduce myself to everyone then.”

“Oh, yes, that would be me. I wasn’t there because I was recovering from a nasty cold. Y/n.” You jut a hand out in his direction, pushing a smile to your lips as you look him in the eye, though thanks to his height, you feel as though you have to crane your neck just to do so.

“Song Mingi. It’s a pleasure to meet you, y/n.” He doesn’t take your hand the way you expect; instead, he pinches the tips of your fingers and bends at the waist, lips grazing your knuckles so softly that you almost don’t feel the contact at all. What’s more startling is how hot his touch is, especially considering how he was just out in the cold. You catch a glimpse of his hand as he’s pulling away, but he’s simply wearing gloves. Knowing Seonghwa, he probably kept the man hostage with conversation for a long time before sending him out to speak with you, and your friend always keeps the house warm because of the ovens, so that’s likely where all the excess heat is coming from. Your staring lingers too long, and Mingi clears his throat quietly, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Likewise,” you spit out, placing your cloak on the coat rack by the door.

“Were you looking for something in particular, or did you just want to see what sorts of things I have?” Mingi wraps around the back of the shop’s counter, and you take it as an invitation to approach. The glass cabinet serving as the surface is filled with a variety of things both familiar and not. Potions, vials, bundles of powders, and even some gemstones that carry a glow at their centers. The presence of magick here is undeniably strong, and it is not yours alone. There must be dozens of magickal objects here, though the ordinary person wouldn’t sense a thing. You don’t let your gaze linger on any of them for long before pulling focus back up to the man’s face.

“Well, I intended to come introduce myself first since we didn’t have a chance to meet at the festival. But beyond that, I wanted to let you know I grow all sorts of herbs and ingredients in my garden. I supply many of the local shops and stalls, especially during the winter seasons. The ground is particularly fruitful thanks to all the rain we get here.”

“Oh? Yes, I noticed rather quickly that there’s near-constant rainy weather here.” As though on cue, a bout of thunder rumbles in the distance.

“You truly chose a summer lover’s nightmare moving here,” you laugh. “Charybid is always in rainy season.”

Mingi hums and grins a little, looking to the window before saying, “I’m quite alright with it really. The heat of my homeland is far more unbearable in my opinion. You can tell how little I went outside there just based on how pale I am.” He flashes the back of his hand that’s still enveloped by a glove like he wants to prove his point, only to realize his little blunder and fall into a bout of awkward laughter instead. “But you said you’re a supplier? Do you have a local shop as well or…?”

“Local, though not here in the heart of town. If you follow the west road up over the hill, you’ll see a string of cottages. Mine is the one with the big front garden! Oh, and there’s a sign as well, of course.”

“That would be immensely helpful especially since I don’t have much space here to grow my own things. It’s a bit difficult to outsource supplies in this area too, isn’t it?” Mingi glances down at the open notebook sitting on his counter and skims the contents. “Would it be alright if I came by at the end of next week? That way I can finish unpacking and taking stock of everything I have.”

“Yes, that’d work just fine. You can come by any time you need, though I always advise against coming too close to nightfall because walking in the rain at night is an easy way to get sick.” You offer a smile, perhaps a little too pleased with how smoothly your business proposal went, but your enthusiasm seems to be received well given how brightly Mingi smiles in return. The air has begun to get more stifling, and you can feel sweat clinging to the back of your neck. It’s unpleasant now, a kind of warmth you’re not used to experiencing all the time because you don’t keep your home so toasty, but it reminds you of evenings shared with Seonghwa that always end with you wanting to escape out into the rain just for some respite. “I won’t take up more of your time, though. I promised to go see Seonghwa myself once I was finished here. I bid you well.”

“Thank you, and have safe travels home yourself. I look forward to doing business with you, Miss y/n.”

…

You leave your cottage in the wee hours of the morning, intending to water your crops before the sun rises, but those plans are dashed the moment you spot the man waiting outside your fence. You’ve seen him several times since your first meeting, though not here and solely in town. He hasn’t come this far yet despite his insistence that he would come over two weeks ago. Autumn is in full swing now, four weeks since the start of the season and five since the new apothecary came to town. You had not quite lost hope that he would be true to his word, but you must admit that you are caught off-guard seeing him at this hour and at your gate.

“When I said not to come at nightfall, I didn’t mean that you needed to come at the break of dawn!”

“I wanted to come before opening hours,” Mingi replies in a far clearer voice than your own. You’re still wiping the sleep from your eyes after all, and it seems he has been up for some time considering how he doesn’t appear tired in the slightest. The lantern at the end of your walkway is lit — strange because you thought you had remembered to blow it out the night before — and the glow combined with the first few rays of sunshine over the horizon is enough to illuminate the space between you and the man. “I was also out on a morning walk, so I figured it would be smart to find out how to get here before making a fool of myself. Beyond making plans to do so several times over and not once making good on those plans.”

You did gather much from your first impression of the man. Seonghwa’s word proved correct: Mingi is quite friendly, although a tad clueless but his kindness makes up for that, and you heard as much from your fellow townsfolk after you left his apothecary a month ago. After all, newcomers will be the talk of the town for weeks after their arrival, so you got to be privy to much talk about his character just from spending five minutes milling about the streets. He’s cordial each time you happen across each other in the village on top of that, full of never-ending apologies about his delay in coming to see you (to the point where you have to demand he stop apologizing three times before he takes the hint).

“Considering how I didn’t even make it to the front door, I’m assuming I did not wake you?” he continues when you reach the edge of the fence. You shake your head, undoing the latching and pulling the gate over for him to step through.

“No, you simply caught me coming out to check on the crops before the rain starts.” You didn’t sense any rain coming today, but a little trip down to the pond can easily be arranged once Mingi departs. “This is only the front garden. I can show you the back as well, if you’d like, I have far more plants there.”

“You take care of this all by yourself?” he inquires, voice edging on awestruck, and your chest swells with pride.

“Yep! It is my livelihood, after all. But I am very enamored with the work too, so that helps me as well. These plants need more sun, and thanks to the location of this cottage, they receive it at least eight hours a day. Same goes for the plots on the left side of the house, but the ones on the right are not as sensitive to the sunshine. I keep the least temperamental crops in the back, along with some gourds that shops have a hard time finding at this time of year. My more cold-sensitive plants are in planters indoors, I have that small little greenhouse attachment on the side of the house as well as fungi and the like in the basement.”

“It seems you truly have a bit of everything then?”

“I try to at least. Whenever traveling merchants come for market days, I make a point to collect whatever seeds I can. I also like picking up gardener’s pamphlets! There are always good tips for how to make certain plants thrive, and occasionally they’ll mention ones I’ve not heard of so I know to be on the lookout for those things. If there’s ever something you’re in need of that I don’t have, I’d be happy to collect some samples for you from some merchants and we can discuss planting them too.” When you glance up at Mingi again, his jaw is hanging slightly open, eyes still bearing into you with that same wonder and disbelief. “Oh, sorry, I’m being a terrible host. Did you want to come inside for some tea or coffee? It’s still quite early.”

“That’d be great. Do you happen to have a catalog of all your crops as well?”

“Of course, of course.” You motion for him to follow you up to the house just as a few drops of rain start hitting your skin. Maybe you won’t need to go down to the pond after all. “It seems you came at the perfect time. Do you have some sort of potion that lets you predict the weather?”

“If only,” he laughs, ducking his head a bit to avoid the doorframe. He shrugs his cloak off upon getting inside, and once again you’re regaled by the sight of him dressed in all black. Though, today he’s forgone gloves and simply stuck to a long-sleeved shirt that extends past his hands.

“You’re welcome to look around as I get the water on and all!”

“I’d be happy to do that for you.”

“Please, you’re a guest, that’d hardly be fair of me.”

“But I did accost you before dawn, so I’d like to think of it as a fair bargain.”

You purse your lips. “Okay, I’ll relent and allow you to do the water, but I’ll take care of everything else.” He drapes his cloak over the back of one of your chairs, very careful and meticulous about the way in which he lays it down, but you only watch him long enough to see him reach the sink. Turning your back to him, you busy yourself with finding mugs and prepping the coffee Seonghwa gave to you a few weeks back. You should’ve thought ahead and asked him for more since you were just over there, but it slipped your mind completely. Perhaps he needs some more lavender and rosemary, you could pack some and use that as an excuse to go back to see him.

When you turn around next, Mingi is already sitting at the table in the seat where he set his cloak down, and you make a small noise of surprise.

“Did you get the stove figured out already? I swear it takes me four or five tries to get it to come on right every time.”

“Hm? It came right on when I turned the knob. Is it not supposed to do that?”

You let out a huff of air while shrugging and set the mugs down on the table. “It never does that for me but that very well may be user error.” The sharp whistle of steam interrupts your thoughts. “Ah, and it’s heating up quickly too? Those remedies of yours are becoming more and more appealing by the second. You might be the town’s new miracle worker at this rate.”

In truth, it’s making your skin itch a little. There was some odd presence of magick back in Mingi’s shop, and even now you feel something sharp prodding at your own magickal energy in your own home. It’s not a threat, not one that you can concretely act on yet at least, but it’s enough to make you wary. To let a witch into your safe haven is a dangerous and risky game to play, especially if it’s where the source of your power is. Thankfully, you were not so foolish upon moving here to do something as juvenile as that — yours is safely kept away in that pond down the opposite side of the hill and tucked into a small grove in the surrounding forest.

“Oh, let me grab that catalog for you real quick!” You bolt up from your chair at the sudden realization, and Mingi seems to accept it as simply that. You grab the book from your shelf, also snatching up the charm you keep near it and slipping it around your wrist while you’re out of sight still. It won’t be enough to fully shroud your energy, but if Mingi is indeed poking and prodding at your aura in search of something, it ought to at least throw him off enough to sate his curiosities. You usually only use such an item when strangers come to town for those market days you mentioned to Mingi before, and it certainly is a first for you to have to use it in your home.

He’s not budged an inch by the time you return, which is nice to see because he could either have started snooping around in places he shouldn’t or bolted without a trace. You set the book down before him, still wearing a faint smile on your lips.

“I just updated it at the start of the week too, so you have the freshest copy.”

“Wonderful, I’m starting to understand the name on your gate post more and more.”

“Ah, that.” Wonderland was simply a silly little name you came up with on a whim because that’s what this place is to you, but it stuck and everyone in town loved it so much that you could not escape the urgings to keep it as a name even if you are not a shop owner in the way that people like Seonghwa and Mingi both are. “It’s nothing terribly special,” you opt to say instead. The kettle starts whistling more egregiously, saving you from having to explain the name any further. You stand and go to grab the handle of the pot, only to scald your palm so badly that you nearly fall over backward. Mingi scrambles to get up, chair clattering against the ground as he rushes in your direction.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I—”

“You’re sorry?” you blurt through gritted teeth, clinging to your hand and trying to will the pain away to no avail. “What are you sorry for?”

“I-I should’ve — I should’ve gotten that, I mean, my hands are…” he trails off, and you glance down at the now exposed hands that he’s put between you. From the tips of his fingers down to the first knuckle on every single digit, Mingi’s skin and nails both are the color of charcoal, like they’ve been permanently stained that way. Were you anybody else, you would not know what it means.

“I’m fine,” you say. He’s a warlock after all, it seems. Of course he is. You have been teetering on the confirmation for weeks at this point, and it was silly of you to ignore the obvious so many times over. His uncomfortably warm touch and the stifling heat inside his shop were both dead giveaways. You did not forget to extinguish your lantern last night, nor did the stove simply come on by way of Mingi being deft at using the knobs. He lit the lantern himself, lit the stove himself as well though because he was unaware of how your finicky stove works, he made the flame too big and too hot, thus leading to the quick boil and unfortunate accident of you burning your hand. The symbol on his door sign should have been enough of a clue.

“Please, at least let me make you something to treat the burn. It’s what I’m good at after all, and it’s the barest of minimums I could do.”

If you kick him out now, then it will surely be obvious that you know something about his identity. Only daft idiots or people with something to hide would turn down the help of a healer such as himself. In the past decade, you have lost all semblance of good judgment because no amount of mental gymnastics can get you to refuse his help right now. You’re dooming yourself if he already knows what you are, but if he’s got even the slightest hint and you turn him away, then you would confirm it for him. You have to take the risk.

“Okay, I would really appreciate it,” you whisper, easing yourself down into your chair once more. Mingi’s shoulders visibly relax. “All these plants and I’m afraid I’ve barely got enough knowledge to make tea on a good day with them. Everything you need ought to be on the shelves behind the counter. Those are all freshly picked too.” When he turns his back to you, you let your meek expression drop and glare at the welt that’s already formed across your palm. Mingi’s magick does not appear to be volatile, meaning that he must have had some sort of formal training in his life. It’s common for fire warlocks to bear the same charcoal-looking scars that he has, mostly from overexertion of their kind of magick. You produce more sweat than is natural for a normal human being thanks to your affinities too.

Would the House truly send someone here for you after so long? And to go through the effort of having them set up a shop in the heart of town? If they wanted someone to watch you, then it would have been easier and smarter to have someone take one of the cottages closer to you. Besides, Mingi has not been taking every opportunity to come find you or learn about you. Nor does he wear any ring to indicate his affiliation with the House. A sanctioned mage would surely make use of such benefits. Could he be a defector like you? Or one that never made it into the House’s grasp?

He returns to the table with a mortar and pestle filled with some sort of salve that he’s already beaten down into a mush.

“Does it hurt badly?”

“Quite a bit,” you answer truthfully, only wincing a little when he turns your palm to the ceiling. It feels as though his fingers alone could sear your skin.

“I made extra for you to use over the next several days as well. All you need to do is store it somewhere cool and apply a little to the burn twice a day until the pain stops.” The mixture is so blissfully cold on your skin that you could cry, and even with Mingi’s warm touch massaging it into the burn, it feels like a heavenly relief. “If the pain doesn’t stop by the time you run out of salve, then please come visit me. I can make more and give you something to keep it from scarring.”

“Understood.”

“And y/n…” He squeezes your hand ever so slightly, and your breath catches in your throat. “You do not have to hide what you are around me.” His gaze finds yours. “You are a witch after all, are you not?” A witch. The word feels like a slap in the face.

“Are you associated with the House? Did they send you? What is it you want from me?”

“The House? Absolutely not. I left their good graces many years ago. I wouldn’t give them even an ounce of my time anyway.”

“So what? You’re a witch as well?”

“Yes, I suppose I am though I don’t make a habit of calling myself that. Simply an apothecary, much like how you are simply a farmer. Of sorts.” Mingi fidgets in his seat and looks closer at you. “I am genuinely not here to cause you harm or disrupt your life. I imagine we came here for the very same reasons in fact. I simply want to live by my own terms, not anyone else’s.”

“Get out,” you whisper. Perhaps there are hundreds of better ways to handle this, but you have never had to do such a thing in all your time here, and you cannot be faulted for acting out of panic and fear now. Your voice comes out louder now, “Get out of my home then! Get out and don’t come back d-don’t dare tell anyone.”

“The energy is permeating the entire house.” Mingi keeps his tone quiet as he continues to speak through your distress. “Your garden too, I felt it immediately. The rain — it’s in there as well. Sure, it’s always rainy season here but how much of it is because of you?”

“You know what the other name for my kind is, right?”

“You’re a water witch.”

You retract your hand from his with a scoff.

“The House tends to call us Scyllans. Sweet temptresses of the deep, killers of foolish men.”

Mingi somehow has it in him to smile.

“Then I ought to be safe, for I am neither foolish nor a mere man.” He stands without saying another word, collecting his cloak off the back of his chair and slinging it around his shoulders. You can’t help but to stare at him, wary and on edge with every movement he makes even when he reaches the door. “My words hold true, y/n. I hope you think them over at least. And your secret is truly safe with me.”

…

You avoid going into town for so long that Seonghwa seeks you out five days after you go into self-imposed seclusion. It’s easy to keep him off your back at least, and from what you can tell, Mingi has not sought him out to expose your dirty secrets as of yet. The logical part of you understands that you ought to avoid angering the man because he does hold quite a bit of power over you right now. Fear keeps you captive instead, however.

Two weeks and a day after that fateful encounter you had with Mingi, you dare to leave the comfort of your home. Not to go into the village — that is a step you are not prepared to face — but rather to visit your precious grove in the forest. You should have gone last week as it’s always been your habit to go once a month to rejuvenate your magick; however, you were so on edge that you couldn’t get beyond your back fence and promptly turned right back around. Tonight, you’re determined.

The skies are clear, not a single cloud marring her starry expanses, and the moon hangs high near the center of the sky. Even better yet, it’s a full moon. Ideal conditions for you to bathe in the pond and restore some much-needed energy. You set out forty minutes from midnight even though your trek will not take that long. You need only be there for the highest peak of the moon, so giving yourself this little bit of leeway should allow you all the time required to reach your destination. Despite yourself, you do glance over your shoulder several times on your way out of the house and garden. When you’re content with your loneliness, you set off down the hill.

It’s not as though you decided to dismiss Mingi’s words altogether once he left. You have put much thought and consideration into them, in fact, especially after Seonghwa came to see you and nothing had changed between the two of you. It’s no guarantee that Mingi didn’t tell anyone, but it’s something. The matter of him being a witch like you, well, that has been a contentious debate in your head. A true warlock calling themselves a witch is considered heresy to many, so you have to believe that Mingi is being truthful with you. You know enough about his magick to know for certain he is either one or the other. But at the end of the day, there is no way for him to prove as much. All he has is his word to back him up, and all you can do is either accept it as truth or deny it.

Long ago, you had settled on the knowledge that you would likely be a rather lonely creature for the rest of your days. Finding Charybid and its people was a welcome blessing, but not a permanent one, and the friends you’ve made (especially Seonghwa and Yunho) cannot understand what it is you are or relate to you on any matter concerning witchcraft. You’ve long since accepted that loneliness as a part of you even if there are pieces of your heart craving warmth and understanding from another like you.

If it were possible, could Mingi be that sort of person in your life? Does he crave the same thing? Is that why he confronted you to begin with?

You reach the grove with a heavier heart than anticipated. Moonlight creeps in through the canopy of branches overhead, glistening off the half-circle of rocks around milky green waters. The moon has already been charging the pond for hours, and you feel the pulse of magick resonating deep in you from the bottom of it.

Stripping down to nothing, you drop your clothes into a pile near the rocks with your satchel and toe at the water. It’s frigid as expected, thanks to the encroaching winter that is coming closer and closer still. You sink into it fully and submerge yourself in the charged waters. Several meters down at the bottom lies your precious black pearl, glowing a deep purple shade to show exactly how much magick she’s stored since you last came. You let the waters hold you for some time until the dull thrum you feel around you turns into a hum that makes your skin feel like it’s full of electricity.

It’s only then that you decide to emerge once more, breaking the surface of the water and letting air replace the magick in your lungs.

Yet, you find that you are not alone.

Bent so far over the pond that he looks one slip away from tumbling down into it, none other than Mingi sits crouched at the edge. It’s far too late to pretend as though you haven’t made note of each other. Depending on which direction Mingi came from, he may not have even seen your belongings behind the rocks. You sink lower in the water until it comes up to cover your lips.

“My apologies. I did not know you were here.” Just his gaze is enough to make your body warm. You tilt your chin up.

“Is that so?”

“I came because of the magickal energy, yes. Not because I knew you would be here.” He’s not far from you. The moon shines her pretty rays down around him, and you blame her for the insatiable tug in your gut that’s making you want to pull him into the waters with you. “I have been thinking about you though,” he admits under his breath. You imagine the words are not meant for your ears, but he doesn’t seem to realize he’s spoken them out loud. It takes little movement on your part to swim closer to him, and you only stop when he is perched directly above you.

“Do I look the part of a temptress now?” you inquire, hand breaking through the surface of the water to caress his cheek.

“Incredibly so,” he murmurs. “I see why foolish men fall. Perhaps I am no better.”

“You know nothing about me.” You trace your fingers down to his chin.

“I know enough.”

You shush him with a laugh and a finger placed directly over his lips. “The sun gives you her power during the day, but on nights like these, the moon offers me a fair exchange. Her power for my sexual energy. That is where a water witch’s magick comes from, and it’s what has earned us all those myths and urban legends about eating men. Now that you know that of me, should I trust you in return?”

“I am what I say I am. I am a fire witch. I defected from the House of Ballads five years ago. To answer your question, though, if…” His gaze has become lidded, focus drawing down to your lips with each word he tries to speak. You feel just as overwhelmed and foggy yourself, the excess magick seeping into you from all angles as the moon inches ever closer to her peak. “…you deem it wise.”

“I think some part of me might.”

“Did you consider what I said to you last time?”

“But of course. It wasn’t so long ago that I’ve forgotten already.” A sigh escapes you as you look up to where the moon can just barely be seen through the trees. “I’d like to give you a chance, if only because of morbid curiosity and the fact that I have made it a decade without finding another like myself.”

You inch up and graze Mingi’s lips with your own. His fingertips tickle the surface of the water, and the effect is nearly instant. Warmth surrounds you and draws a gasp out of you that has you curling away from Mingi’s face. He leans back.

“I cannot restrain myself well enough tonight. Not in the presence of such potent magick.” You are equal parts pleasantly surprised and grossly disappointed by his willpower. With a smile, you push away from the edge of the pond and head further into the water. Mingi almost makes the mistake of following you, teetering at the grassy bank.

“You are welcome to visit again. So long as I am not nude or compromised.”

“I-I—” His cheeks are stained a deep red by now.

“I do not intend to put on a show for you tonight, Mingi, but I am in desperate need of the moon’s energy. If that is all, then…?” Were the circumstances any different, you would consider your wording to be crude in that you are essentially asking him to leave so that you can fuck yourself with the crystal you brought along with you in your bag.

He clears his throat and sits completely back on his heels, gaze wandering across your face. Licking over his lips, his eyes linger on the water droplets running from your hairline to your jaw.

“I will come to you when the first snow falls,” he says. “So that you may have time to contemplate things further. My decision is already made, and I'm sure you're aware of it. Please… please let me know then what your choice is.” You want to retort that he doesn’t have the best track record thus far, but instead leave well enough and wave him away with a grin. A bout of laughter leaves your lips as soon as he passes through the clearing and out of sight.

“Are you testing me?” you whisper to the moon, receiving nothing but her monotonous glow in response. You wade over to the rocks where you left your belongings and quickly rifle through your pack in search of the rose quartz you brought along. It’s cold to the touch, unpleasant in comparison to the warm body that you just had with you and within your grasp. While the shape isn't perfect, it gets the job done in the absence of the real deal, and it serves its purpose just fine. Not like you have any other options as it is.

Part of you entertains the idea of having Mingi still here — from a practical standpoint, consummating the ritual with another magick user would be far more effective than using a crystal charged by the moon. But from a pleasure standpoint…

You dip your fingers between your legs, letting your body fall back to rest your head on the edge of the pond as you seek your core between your folds. The magick at your fingertips pulses through you and sends a jolt into your system just from the slightest brush. A soft mewl falls from your lips. You feel Mingi’s magick still permeating all throughout the water, clinging to your skin, and on your lips, you taste fire from that minute little kiss exchanged in a fit of passion.

No matter how hard you try, you cannot get your fingers deep enough inside your cunt. Instead, your thoughts are plagued by the visual of Mingi’s hands, his long fingers, the searing heat that emanates from them, and the all-consuming desire to know what it would feel like to have them inside you.

You cannot even bring yourself to waste time right now; slipping your fingers free, you plunge the toy in your other hand into yourself and sink it all the way in until the pressure in your gut is eased the slightest bit. It's blissfully cold against your walls; the coolness eases the burn that seems to be wedged beneath your skin and brings some clarity back to your mind. It does not, however, chase every thought of Mingi from your brain. In the haze of your vision, you can hallucinate him before you still, imagine him in the spot where he was not long ago watching you with those fiery intense eyes and urging you on. A louder cry of pleasure tumbles out of you as you're forced to twist and brace yourself on a rock to keep increasing the pace of the toy's thrusts inside you.

It ought to fill you with some degree of shame, you think, because who lusts so strongly after a stranger who poses something of a threat to your well-being and livelihood? But when your mind goes back to the idea of his large hands gripping your waist and hips as he splits you open on his cock, you can't be bothered in the slightest about the speed at which you're becoming invested in this man — all that matters is the speed at which you're thrusting the crystal dildo in and out of your pussy as an orgasm creeps up on you. You have to bury your face in the crook of your arm to have some semblance of sanity to cling to. And when you unravel soon after, it’s his name on your lips.

…

The first snow of the season is late.

You have been trying to avoid thinking about it solely on account of the superstition that mulling it over will only delay it further, but those attempts are futile. Because when you tell yourself to not think about it, you only end up thinking about it more, then you devolve into a sick cycle of reasoning with yourself and the moon and any deity out there who will give you the time of day.

While you could set your pride aside for the sake of what it is you’re waiting on exactly, that is simply not in your nature. Additionally, you want to see whether Mingi will uphold his end of the bargain. He promised to come at the first snow. So you will wait for that day.

Your gardens are thriving thanks to the lack of snow and the amplified support of your fully-charged magick, which is the only positive you can find in this situation while you essentially sit on your hands and wait. The downside is, however, that the temperatures are still steadily declining, and you always struggle in the winter to keep your home warm enough. Your specialty may be in water magick, but that does not mean you have any control or power over the temperature of said water, and everything around you tends to skew a bit cooler as it is. The thought of how cold you are and your house is and everything in between only pushes your thoughts more towards the lack of warmth and a potential source of it that will not come unless the fucking snow does first.

If you have to put up with seeing Mingi’s smiling face across the street while you’re pestering Seonghwa one more time then you may truly snap and lose all semblance of self-respect.

…

You’re knelt in a bed of rosemary when the first flakes of snow start to hit your skin. At first, you think it to be just rain but then a flurry touches one of the purple blossoms on the herb. The shout you let out is a terrifying mixture of joy and exasperation because at long last, your agonizing wait can finally come to a close. The way you scramble to pull yourself out of the dirt and rush indoors ought to be more embarrassing. It takes you all of five minutes to change out of your grimy gardening clothes and into something cozier and cleaner, though all you do is park yourself at the kitchen table with a mug of hot tea and stare out the window waiting for any sign of movement on the hill. The snow is coming down harder already, a billowing cloud of white that cloaks the dirt and grass on the ground. It doesn’t even occur to you to think that Mingi might not come at all, that he might have forgotten or worse — simply not chosen to come at all — because your patience has worn so thin over the past weeks that you feel relief just seeing the snow.

And luckily for you, Mingi is far more timely and true to his word than he was before. You neglected to keep track of the time, though you haven’t finished your tea yet by the time his lanky figure comes over the crest of the hill. You know it to be him instantly because his fiery hair is visible through the white all around him.

You’re at the door before you can think twice, flinging it open and making your way down the path to the gate as though you aren’t in the biggest rush of your life. Behind him, there’s a trail of footsteps where the snow has melted under his feet, and the closer he gets, the better you can see how not even a single snowflake sticks to him in any way. Every flake that touches even the outside of his cloak simply melts upon contact, leaving him pristine in the sea of white falling around you.

“Did you wait long?” he asks upon reaching your gate. Somehow he manages to maintain a lilting tone that makes your brain itch. You want to kiss him so silly that all that smugness dissipates like the snow on his skin. “Y/n.” The breathy exhale of your name is all it takes for you to grab him by the collar and yank him down to your level. The warmth is so blessedly welcome. “Have you made your decision?”

You slot your lips against his, licking at the seam of his lips without waiting for further invitation. He scrambles with the latch on the gate, though you’re of no help at all with how you’re trying to pull him over it, but once that pesky barrier is pushed open just a little bit, he slides through the gap and seals his body against yours. Even though the cold doesn’t seem to be affecting him much, his breathing still comes out in pants, like he sprinted the whole way here from town without rest. He clasps his hands around the back of your neck, thumbs caressing the underside of your jaw, and each kiss he plants on your lips is more searing than the last. It takes all you have to not trip over backward on your feet with him guiding you back towards the door of your home. The two of you don’t even make it through the door before he’s pushing you up against the doorframe and slotting a knee between your thighs.

“Please, y/n, let me hear it from these pretty lips,” he begs. Your whole body is alight with something — either magick or lust or something in between those things that you can’t distinguish at present. The heat radiating off his body makes your head spin, and it’s such an intoxicating sensation that you reach your hands beneath the fabric of his cloak to be closer to skin.

“I trust you, I need you, I want you to have me,” you murmur back. Mingi pushes his lower lip out with the tip of his tongue. His gaze carries the same heat you’ve grown used to seeing all the time when you look at his eyes. Now, the weight of it feels heavier. Your breath hitches in your throat as he wraps an arm around your back, and his fingers dig into your side briefly. You’re pulled away from the doorframe and into the house only for him to slam the door shut and lock the snow out. What you aren’t expecting is to be flattened to the surface face first mere seconds later.

“I want to have you right here and now,” Mingi growls behind you. Every brush of his hands over your body leaves goosebumps in their wake along with the heat of his magick seeping into your skin. He takes apart your bodice carefully, pulling each string with a startling amount of care compared to his desperate rush to have you. A sort of fever takes hold of you, and with each piece of clothing he removes from your being, the more the fire in your belly roars. Glancing down, you see your clothes fallen into a heap on the floor, along with his cloak, then his coat, his shirt — each piece of fabric goes to join the pile until you feel bare skin against yours. The bliss of the contact is so immense that you let out a pitiful moan.

“Mingi.”

“Raise your arms over your head for me, y/n.”

“Mingi,” you utter again, following the instruction without a breath of hesitation. He takes both of your wrists between just one of his hands and pins them to the flat surface of the door. Your chest trembles under your breaths.

“I will not be rough with you unless you allow it. How I take you is up to you… whether it be me taking you apart gently or fucking you hot and raw right here and now.” You can’t take the sensation of his breathing down your neck without squirming. No matter how hard you squeeze your thighs together, there’s no relief for the pulsing need for pressure there. The moment Mingi catches onto your attempts, he wedges his knee between your legs and leaves you to rock back on his muscled thigh for some sort of escape.

“Please.” It’s as though there’s cotton in your mouth keeping you from fully forming any kind of sentence because although your thoughts are running at a mile per minute, you cannot seem to get more than one word out at a time. Mingi nudges you forward into the door once again. He replaces the pressure of his thigh with his unoccupied hand, cupping your cunt and dragging his middle finger along the slit of your folds.

“You’re coming undone already, my little witch.” Mingi suddenly flicks his finger forward over your clit, and your knees buckle. Your reaction delights him so much that he repeats the action two more times, and your body truly becomes putty in his hands. He keeps you up between the hand holding your wrists to the door and the one cupped around your sex, but you aren’t sure your muscles could keep you up on their own without the help. Especially not when Mingi gets more daring and pulls a second finger into the mix to tease the ring of your entrance with small, methodical circles.

“Put them in me, put your fingers in!” you cry out only for Mingi to roll over your clit once again. His cock is twitching against your ass, firm and big, and part of you wants to forget everything else solely to have him in your mouth and down your throat.

“Is that how good girls ask for things?” He pinches your clit between his fingers until you’re whimpering out an apology and smearing drool across the door. “Ask again. Nicely this time, sweetheart.”

“Please f-fuck me with your fingers, please open me up for you, I w-want to feel you so badly.” Nonsensical babbling is enough for him, blessedly, because you’re not confident that anything more coherent than that could make its way out of you right now. He rolls the pads of his fingers up against your clit again before going any lower. His laugh is borderline sadistic when you curl your fingers into the wood, nails clawing for some sort of grip that will help you ground yourself. “Wanna come so—!”

“That’s it, come for me, lovely. Then I’ll fuck you nice and loose on my fingers while you’re coming.” Mingi retracts his fingers right when your gut clenches, and as your walls squeeze tight around nothing, he slips two digits into your cunt. Your lips part in a silent scream, moans caught in the back of your throat. Your vision goes white behind your eyelids though it lasts so much longer than what you’re used to getting from your own hand and toys. Perhaps it’s because Mingi doesn’t let up on you even in the throes of your orgasm, or thanks to your magickal energies intertwining in the most raw and intimate way imaginable. “Let me open you up some more first, then I’ll give you what you want.”

You blink your eyes open and look at Mingi out your peripherals, mouth wide open and cheek still pressed harshly into the door even though you’re the one keeping it there.

“Do you want it too?” you ask out of the blue. Your voice is tight and strained. His fingers curl inside you.

“So badly,” comes his quick reply, “that it’s taking everything in me not to put my dick in you right now. But I don’t want to hurt you.” As though to emphasize his feelings, Mingi rolls his hips forward, and his cock rubs hard against your ass. “Doesn’t even look like it’s gonna fit in you, fuck.”

“Mingi, I need you in me now, like right this instant now, not in five minutes now.” The first orgasm has your vision hazy and legs wobbly, but that’s far from a concern to you at the moment. Your urgency pushes the man behind you to have the same sort of franticness, hurriedly slipping his fingers free of your cunt and readjusting his hold so that he can grip the base of his dick. You hold perfectly still for him as he lines himself up with your waiting hole that’s already sopping with arousal. Your pussy takes him in like it’s greedy for it, each inch sliding in and spreading you wider to accommodate to his size. One thing’s for certain: Mingi has a stupidly big dick, so big that it makes you wonder if you’d be able to feel it through your stomach if you put a hand there.

Whatever shreds of patience he had left in him turn to ash the second he’s fully buried balls-deep in you. He doesn’t wait even a second before he pulls out about halfway, and the only stutter in his rhythm comes from him trying to find it. You’re suddenly rather glad that he’s keeping your hands up for you because the drive of his cock inside your pussy would bring you to your knees otherwise. The sounds of pleasure fill your ears — his low baritone moans tangled alongside your more throaty ones that crack here and there, the slap of his hips hitting your ass, and the thumping of the door as he fucks you so hard against it that it trembles.

“Y-You’re so deep, I feel you in my stomach,” you choke out between moans. It devolves into a sob as Mingi shifts his angle upwards a bit and hits a new spot deep inside you that has you seeing stars.

“Yeah? Your pussy is clinging to me nice and tight, lovely, I think you like it a little too much.” He has enough composure to still speak without crying, meanwhile, tears are starting to pool at the corners of your eyes as the overstimulation of your senses and nerves reaches unimaginable heights. “Bet your pretty little toy isn’t even half as big as me.”

Mingi thrusts so hard into you that his grip on your wrists falters, and one of your hands falls free. He doesn’t bother correcting it, nor do you try to keep it up any longer, instead rushing to get your fingers around your clit again. You’re so hyperfocused on chasing the high of another orgasm that you don’t warn him it’s about to hit you this time. He knows well enough when your body seizes for a moment before releasing every bit of tension in your muscles. Your walls flex around his cock, working him in time with the waves of your euphoria, until he can’t take it anymore and pulls free of your hole. He rests his length atop the cleft of your ass and thrusts a few more times there, then comes his release. Hot ropes of come shoot out from his cock, painting your naked back into a messy canvas of come and sweat.

Despite the sudden quiet filling the house, your hearing is hypervigilant and clings to every slight noise that comes from your partner, from his fight to get air into his lungs to the hand he now rubs over his spent cock.

“You…” Your throat is too dry and you end up coughing instead of getting a sentence out. Mingi’s fingers trace small, unknown patterns into your hip. “You’re welcome to stay through winter. That’s my answer.”

“Through winter?” Mingi hums. He slips his hand around your waist and flattens his large palm over your abdomen. “What about spring?”

“Then too.”

“And summer?” He’s teasing you again. Somehow he still has the energy to do that.

“And summer and autumn then winter again. But maybe by the spring after that, I’ll be sick of you!”

“You won’t be,” he says through a laugh, lips brushing against the side of your head. You’re going to need better retorts if he plans on sticking around that long.

────────────

please like & reblog this work and consider leaving a reply or sharing your thoughts in a reblog or ask!

this work belongs to caly / hongism (2023). do not copy, repost, or plagiarize in any way.

#ateez x reader #ateez smut #mingi x reader #mingi smut #ateez fanfic #ateez ff #ateez fic #mingi fanfic #mingi fic #mingi ff #ateez imagine #mingi imagine #caly.writes #winter fic fest 2023 #fic; and it's snowing #fic; sweet juice

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semisolidmind · 3 months

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Hi there, how are you?

So I came across your eternal servants au pic, and I was just wondering how would the dynamics change between the twice as bad duo and Peaches if she was their master? And how would they be the same or at least similar?

No pressure to answer obviously, I was just curious because it's such a cool pic.

(eh. i cant think of a good reason for her to be their master in my au, so ill just describe what my reader would be like as the master in @emelinstriker 's universe)

reader is a very benevolent master. she doesn't want to punish her champions. and it's only partially because...she doesn't think she can? they're all incredibly powerful, so...what right does she have as a relatively normal human to enact any sort of repercussions on them?

however, she also doesn't want them to kill if they can help it. i imagine she would attempt to talk any enemies down first (if she's present) before one of her fellas has to step in and take the aggressor out.

i really can't see reader giving orders to the champions unless she has to. it just feels so...wrong to give them commands, like they're nothing more than machines. she feels a sense of remorse for the champions. reader can't help but wonder who they were before.

reader doesn't play favorites. mostly because all of the champions unsettle her to some degree. she just can't get used to the idea that these powerful beings are at her beck and call.

however, wukong, macaque, mk, and azure are the ones she interacts with the most. the others seek her out as well (as is their want), but at least one of these four are never far from her side.

(i know it's just a cute collab w/ @theweepingegg and it's not canon, but bean mk is a cutie, so that's how he'll appear here) lil guy mk follows reader around like a duckling. reader genuinely can't help but baby him, he's just too cute. he'll tug on her skirts for attention and look up at her with those big ol eyes; she has to pick him up, she can't resist. it doesn't matter that he's capable of incredible violence, he's just a lil guy!

idk exactly how the masters are usually "acquired," but i imagine that reader was living a fairly normal life before she was nabbed and brought to the palace. she takes an exhausted pride in the fact that she didn't freak out as bad as she could have. and y'know, in spite of the way she got there, reader really hasn't minded having all this free time.

if the palace has a library, that's where you can usually find reader. she feels safer in there than anywhere else.

the only champion who gives reader a hard time is mink (of course). however, it's less in a "genuinely doesn't like her" kinda way and more in a "teasing her because he thinks it's funny and otherwise doesn't mind her" kinda way. he thinks it's funny to rile her up, knowing she won't actually punish him. the others don't really voice their opinions on the masters, so i think mink's attitude is a good indicator for whether a master is a good one.

overall, reader tries her best to be a good master. she knows her champions are doing their best.

#i think about emelins au occasionally #I really want to draw her version of azure w reader

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hazbinpage · 3 months

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Alastor x reader hcs

(not explicitly romantic, but not explicitly platonic, either — you're just really close and important to each other)

WC is a little over 2000 I think

A/N: This is my first time writing like this, and my first time writing for Alastor, so forgive me if it's a little OOC! It has to be, given that he would never be in a relationship in the show, but I tried to keep him as close to cannon as possible. Please enjoy and lmk what you think!

-Your relationship is that of a very slow burn.

-You might have met in the hotel, desiring to better yourself or wanting a place to stay; you might have met through a mutual connection, Mimzy, Nifty, or Husker having been someone you've grown close to and followed to Charlie's project; or he might have considered you one of "fairer means," and protected you from another demon, earning him your respect and fear and causing you to join the inhabitants of his current residence; regardless, you start out as acquaintances living in the hotel.

- Once settled there, you slowly get to know each other. You both start off with observation: Alastor noting how you interact with the others, your ticks, your strengths, your weaknesses, and your flaws; you seeing the subtle and not-so-subtle ways he reveals his power, his distant stature, his observance, his likes, his dislikes, and just how little he truly discloses. He's a mystery to you, and one you're not sure you should try to uncover.

-You mostly see one another in group dynamics in the first couple weeks or so. If you knew him before you came to the hotel, he might have greeted you ("Ah, Husker's little companion, greetings! (Y/N), was it?") Otherwise, though, he would stay mostly silent until Charlie introduced him herself, after which he'd give a short, fairly dismissive, yet exhuberant welcome. After this, you'd rarely speak, both instead watching as the other engaged with the remaining residents' antics.

- After a few weeks of barely speaking, something would change. You'd begin to show a common interest of some sort, be it music, dance, radio, dad jokes, or food. One of you would approach the other, asking for a friendly dance or striking up a conversation about dinner. You might also connect over a common dislike (modern technology/the Vs, dogs [if that's still cannon], being touched, ect.) While you don't have to have a lot in common, one or two things will spark interest in spending time together — something that is necessary for your relationship to progress.

- After a while of hanging out, you'd become friends, or at least friendly with one another — he enjoys having a companion in his interests.

-He'd probably end up initiating all of your time together, though; he's busy and prefers to be in control of his own schedule. He wouldn't mind necessarily if you tried to reach out, not at all, he'd just decline. If he wanted to hang out, he'd make it happen.

-While he considers you friends, he doesn't care about you — at least, he doesn't at first. He enjoys you in the way he might enjoy watching a character in a book, similar to how he feels about Nifty, just not familially in nature like he (seems to maybe) view her.

-Somewhere along the line, underneath his awareness, his interest in spending time with you will shift in purpose from manipulation, or the desire to engage in his hobbies unalone, to actual interest in you as a person. He doesn't notice this change for a while (sue him, he's been busy running a hotel; why would he pay attention to his feelings toward a side character?), but when he does realize what has happened, he'll be fairly confused by himself. Nothing about you is particularly interesting; you're fairly standard, with an average skillset and personal history. Why does he find himself so intrigued by you? So desiring to spend more time getting to know you? He'll admit, you've been a fun dance partner, and he enjoys when you sit with him as he broadcasts his radio show across hell. And, as much as he loves the fear in your eyes at his more gruesome displays, he always appreciates the kindness in them as you catch up over breakfast. Perhaps that was it — it was a lovely feeling to be feared and cherished at the same time — one so unoften given to him by a demon of a lower stature. He supposes little things like this could result in a friendship, however temporary. It's a similar story to how he befriended Mimzy, after all.

-He's decisive and it doesn't take him long to come to this conclusion. He'll start spending more time around you outside of your mutual interests and dragging you along to affairs outside the hotel. He'll have you meet Rosie and try to get you to eat demon meat. He'll respect it if you refuse, insisting it's your loss, but it won't be the last time he tries to "expand your taste."

-He'll be relatively comfortable with you touching him outside of dance at this point, though only briefly and informally (pats on the back, high-fives, a short hug or two if you haven't seen each other in a while, ect.).

-He'll tolerate more nosiness than before as well; he enjoys the attention from someone he knows and likes, and, depending on the question, he might actually answer you.

-He loves compliments; they feed his ego, and he doesn't mind dishing them back out when appropriate.

-That's the extent of your relationship, though: he finds you enjoyable to hang out with (now as a person more than a character, though there's still some of that sentiment), and he spends more time with you.

-The key to moving past this not-close-but-not-entirely-distant friendship stage is to do something out of character for his sake. If you're greedy, give him something he knows is important to you, no strings attached. If you're easily angered or vengeful, let go of previous wrongs to spend time with him. If you're shy, stand up to someone badmouthing him, especially if he's not there. Such intentional displays of will and care take him off-guard (as off-guard as he can be with someone he's gotten to know so well — you might not know him, but he certainly knows you) and make him feel very cared for.

-Slowly, after these displays, your friendship will progress. He'll start doing things for you, too — at first, in the form of minor deals, where he still gets something but often less than what he gives. Then there are mere trades, where you have most of the benefits with less security for him. Finally, he'll start giving you gifts and doing favors without charge, just as you have for him, on the condition you haven't tried to manipulate him in any way while he felt out the waters. He's slow to trust even someone who he views as harmless; please let him go at his own pace!

-He spends even more time with you as well, finding his preference to be in your company rather than out of it.

-Over time, slowly but surely, you grow closer and closer together. You trust him, and he…kind of trusts you. He has a lot to lose, so the partial trust is the most he's willing to give. It's also the most he's offered to someone since long before he died, perhaps the most ever, aside from his mother.

-This is especially so, given that he's already bound with a deal of his own. He gives himself permission to indulge in this close relationship with you only while knowing he would abandon or use you if it allowed him to be free. He's so desperate and scared, and he knows he’d do anything to rid himself of his burden. He tries to suppress and devalue the guilt that comes with the knowledge of his own ultimate disloyalty and succeeds only most of the time.

-There's no specific turning point either of you can locate where you became more exclusive than friends. You just know that it was before he moved an extra bed into your room so he could be with you while you slept.

-A couple years down the line, when you're more comfortable with each other, he'll sleep in your presence as well. He'll also be willing to cuddle, if you'd like, but he's going to be bad at it (stiff as a board, that one — plus, even when he gets comfortable with it, he'll almost always think of something he needs to do and leave halfway through). He doesn't necessarily enjoy it, but he loves you and is willing to do things he doesn't actively dislike for your sake.

-He'll let you touch his ears, something he hasn't let anyone do before, and finds he enjoys being stroked on the head. I hc this was something his mom did for him when he was younger as he fell to sleep, and is a major comfort to him now. You're just the only person he trusts to do it.

-Head strokes are also the only physical touch-y thing he'll actively seek out and enjoy; everything else is either for manipulation, to make a statement, something he just kind of lets happen (think Nifty crawling on him), or for your sake entirely. He will, however, not do anything or allow you to do anything he actively dislikes. He's very clear about his boundaries in that sense, and if you don't respect them, it will put a damper on your (already quite fragile due to his guilt and fear) relationship.

-In terms of smooching, he will kiss you on the back of your hand and the top of your head once you've grown closer. Closer still, and he'll kiss you on the cheek when you ask. If you've been together for years, he semi-trusts and fully loves you, and you haven't tried to pressure him to do anything he doesn't want, he might kiss you on the lips upon your request. Even after centuries together, though, this is a very rare occurrence.

-His breath stinks anyway; you should thank him for keeping his unsanitary meat grinder away from yours.

-Speaking of which, you have to hound him to brush his teeth. Almost nothing you say convinces him ("I make people uncomfortable, you say? Of course I do — I'm the Radio Demon! Nothing brings me greater pleasure.") The only point you could use that might get him to semi-regularly practice oral hygiene is that demons could look down on him for it. This is entirely dependent, though, on his mental state and general public status at the time.

- He doesn't care to define your relationship; he lets it define itself. He doesn't know what a QPR is and doesn't care to know. He does want you to be at least semi-exclusive, though.

-He also doesn't care if you view him romantically or not; so long as you respect his boundaries and care about him as much as he does you, he's content.

- While he isn't comfortable with you calling him your boyfriend ("It's far too juvenile a term for one such as myself, my dear!") or your husband ("Haha, don't call me that!"), he's more than okay with being referred to as your partner, significant other, or dearest companion; if he calls you anything but your name to others, these terms are what he uses. He views these titles as more ambiguous than explicitly romantic while still giving the context that you are

his person — the most important individual in his life — and that he will have no other.

-Pretty protective, but you might not see it often. He's fully confident in his ability to keep you out of harm's way; he's one of the most powerful demons in the pride ring, after all. Why would he have to worry? That being said, if you ever did manage to be hurt, he would be beyond pissed. He would broadcast your assailant's screams on his radio show for longer than he ever had before.

- Whether he makes it a point to tell other demons who's protection you're under entirely depends on what is revealed about his character in later seasons. He might be very very public about it, talking about you all the time on his broadcast and angering Vox with his PDA (usually just a hand on your back or something of the like to make a statement). On the other hand, he might keep your relationship very private, fearing that the few demons powerful enough to cross him would use his care for you against him. It's one or the other, in my opinion, with very little room in between.

-Speaking of Vox, he would loathe you. Your existence would both flare up his one-sided crush on Alastor and his desire to see the Radio Demon suffer — you take away any non-existent chance of his unrequited love being returned while also making Alastor happy, which he doesn't want. Vox might try to hurt you at some point, though very much away from the public eye, or to steal you away, but his attempts don't go on for very long before Alastor makes it very clear that he's to discontinue his behavior.

-While a person of any demographic could be Alastor's significant other, it will be harder and will take longer for a relationship to develop between him and someone he views as a threat (your relationship would start with him trying to use you for your power, and it would take a long time to fully stray from that nature), and/or another man (it's by no means impossible to develop a relationship with him as a man; he just seems to have more initial patience and fondness for women in general).

-You'll hear more about his life alive than almost anyone else, and he'll especially speak of his mother. He wishes you two could have met. "She'd just adore you," he'd say. It's one way to know how highly he thinks of you.

-He'd let you hold his staff. You wouldn't understand what it meant to him until it broke during his fight with Adam. If you see the fight, that is, he'd be very hesitant to let you near the battlefield. If you ever find out about his deal before he ends it, it's while treating his wound from his fight with Adam, and the information is spilled more or less by accident.

-Chances are he wouldn't come to you while injured, though, both because he doesn't want you to see him as weak and because he doesn't want his cloudy mind to spill any secrets.

-Overall, his relationship with you is a very slow-to-manifest but close and loving one that he holds very dearly in his heart. The only thing he holds closer is freedom. When the deed is done, though, and you're gone, he might realize his priorities were out of order.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor/reader #reader is a sinner #what a Guy #the radio demon #idk what tags this fandom uses #hopefully these are alr #my writing

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 1 year

Text

The Worst Best Man

Notes: Based on this post. Working on the companion Rooster piece now. Not beta-read

Warnings: enemies to lovers; angst; fluff; reader tipsiness; ends happily

Rating: M (mostly for the amount of cursing)

Length: 6K

Summary: You’d at least hoped that you’d get some help from the best man, but so far, you’d gotten jackshit. Jake Seresin was, quite possibly, the worst Best Man you could’ve wound up with.

Don’t you think it’s too soon?

Aren’t you rushing this?

You’ve known each other for, what—four months? How—How did this even—

Those were among the questions that had bubbled up when Jenna told you that she and Thomas were getting married, and asked you to be her Maid of Honor—for a wedding that would be happening in three months. Now, you were a month out, and the wedding was feeling like even more of a circus than it had at the outset. The timeline was pinched, the budget was tight, the bride’s demands were high, the groom was preoccupied, and the Best Man was such a dick.

You’d at least hoped that you’d get some help from him, but so far, you’d gotten jackshit. Jake Seresin was, quite possibly, the worst Best Man you could’ve wound up with.

He had no interest in helping you in any meaningful way. He was more than happy to tag along for the fun stuff like cake tastings, but when it came to the things that you have to actually spend time on—things like arrangements for the photographer, decorations and centerpieces for the venue (because Jenna was too busy to do them), place settings (because Jenna wanted them done, but didn’t want to deal with it), and arranging the favor bags (because someone had to do it), Jake wouldn’t so much as lift a finger. Oh, you’d asked. Toward the beginning, you had asked him for a lot of help. But once Jake Seresin gave you a third, “Sounds like you’ve got this one, sweetheart,” you just stopped asking.

And that was why it was wholly inexplicable when he decided to turn up to the florist’s. You hadn't even bothered to hide your dismay at the sight of him. In fact, your scowl had deepened as he’d held the door open for you and waved you inside. You greeted the woman behind the counter warmly, folding your arms across your chest as you waited for her to gather the arrangements that she’d made for the reception. Jake dropped into one of the seats around the small table, scrolling through his phone. You set your bag down on the seat beside his and instead wandered around the space, eyeing photos of other arrangements.

“...Would you sit down?”

“What for?”

“Just, relax for a minute,” Jake sighed. “What are you so antsy for?”

You weren’t antsy. You just didn’t want to be anywhere near him if you could help it.

“I’m not,” You excused. “I’m just looking.”

You felt Jake cast a speculative eye back toward you. You stalwartly ignored it, looking between the photos until you heard, “Here we are!” From the florist. You turned, smiling when you spotted the arrangements of peonies, garden roses, and hyacinths, offering a clean, white pallet with pops of blue.

“This is beautiful,” You stepped closer to the table. You dipped your head, eyeing the stems, and the fullness of the vase. “I do think that this may be a little tall for what we need, though.”

“And what does the groom think?” The florist asked, casting Jake a bright smile. Your eyes widened slightly, turning to find Jake smiling smugly at you.

“Oh—No. No no,” You shook your head. “This is not the groom—And I’m not the bride. Maid of Honor, Best Man,” You clarified, pointing from yourself to him.

“I’m so sorry!” She laughed. “You two just had the look of a couple when you came in. I see it a lot, you know, the tightness and stress that can come from arrangements, floral or otherwise. So!” She pushed on as if she hadn't just horrified you, “We can absolutely do lower vases, if that’s what you’re needing.”

“The tables at the venue are fairly small, they seat five,” You told her as she noted it down, “And I just don’t want people having to lean around the uh…Around the arrangements to speak to one another.”

“Understood,” She nodded.

“Do the vases come with the flowers?” Jake asked, taking up the arrangement.

“No. Put it down,” You ordered flatly.

“What are we gonna do for vases?”

“I took care of that. And since when is any of this a we situation?”

“Don’t look so sour, sweetheart. I’m just trying to help.”

“This is not helping, this is annoying. Put it down.”

“Do the vases look like this?”

“No. We’re repurposing mason jars.”

“Why?”

“Because Jenna has a lot of them that we can use and it cuts down on the expense. Would you please put it down?”

“How much would vases like these cost? They’re nicer.”

“Would you just—Stop tipping it!”

“What? I’m just looking for the price tag—”

“Jake—”

“Gimme one second—”

“Stop, stopstopstopstopstop!” You screeched, darting around the table to him. You weren’t fast enough. Jake tipped the vase just a little too far, sending water spilling into your open bag. He hissed a curse, righting the vase as you scrambled to your bag. You yanked it open, your insides bubbling with rage as you looked inside. You could hear the retreating footsteps of the florist, and the scrape of Jake’s chair beside yours.

“Shit…How bad is it—?”

“Don’t,” You warned, cutting him off as you try to shift things around in your bag and assess the damage. “Don’t talk to me right now.”

It was a stony moment of quiet before the florist came back in. You managed a tight smile as she held out a wad of paper towels, taking them with a mumble of thanks and hurriedly dabbing at the bottom of your bag.

“...How bad is—”

“Seresin, I am serious.”

Jake went blessedly quiet beside you. You only just managed to keep your cool as you finished discussing the arrangements with the florist. You steamed your way out of the shop, determined to leave him in the dust—and with no such luck.

“Would you slow down?”

You didn’t answer his call, just sped toward you car, even as he added, “Look, I’m sorry—“

“Why are you here!” You whirled around, forcing him to stop short to keep from slamming into you. He looked stricken for just a second before he blinked his usual cocky demeanor back into place.

“I’m here to help.”

“With what?” You laughed hysterically, “Since when? I asked for your help before and you did nothing! Why now?”

“Thomas said you’ve been twitchy and working overtime on this stuff, so—“

“So you thought you’d come and dump some water into my purse? Thank you,” You cooed sarcastically. “I couldn’t have asked for better assistance.”

“That was an accident,” He insisted.

“Well, it was more than enough. Consider yourself released from whatever help you thought you might give me.” You turned from him, pressing the unlock button on your key fob. You rounded to the driver’s seat, yanking the door open and slamming it shut once you’re inside. You jammed the key into the ignition, practically peeling out of the parking lot before he could knock on your window or get into his car and follow you.

—

You did see him, of course. He was hard to avoid. Jenna and Thomas insisted on the odd check-in with the four of you, whenever it was convenient for Thomas and Jake. They tended to have schedules that were set in stone. Both were in the Navy; Thomas was a month out from changing bases, which was why the wedding was on such a tight turnaround in the first place.

You sat around the small dining room table in Jenna’s apartment, mostly keeping to yourself. Jenna, Thomas, and Jake just chatted like you didn’t have things to get done—like you hadn’t come with a list of status items and questions that have yet to be answered. Instead, you just waited, drank their beer, ate the pizza they bought, and smiled until they came around to it. Once they did, you ran through your list with militant efficiency. You came away with answers, plans—and Jake’s pledge to help you with the favors.

You wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, that you didn’t want water poured into the favor bags, but you just forced a tight smile, and gritted out your thanks through your teeth.

—

“Why don’t you like Jake?”

It was a trap of a question. You didn’t answer right away, choosing to pretend that you hadn’t heard it the first time.

“Hm?” You managed after a moment, glancing from your notes to look at her. Jenna tipped her head toward you, brows raising in disbelief. You shrugged nonchalantly, turning to look down at your notes and checklists.

“He’s a good guy,” Jenna added, walking around the table. “Tommy said he’s half the reason he even made it out of basic.”

“I somehow doubt that.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Other than him being a self-centered purse-ruining ass? Nothing in particular.”

“He said the purse thing was an accident. He felt really bad!”

“Yeah, it really showed,” You muttered. You glanced up, brows raising as you spotted Jenna’s disbelieving gaze. You sighed softly.

“Look, he’s gonna help me with these favors, we’re gonna get through the wedding, and then I never have to see him again. So,” You shrugged. “This is gonna be fine. Your day is going to be perfect. I promise.”

“Making an effort to get along with Jake would make my day perfect,” Jenna insisted, giving you a wide, sweet smile. You could see a glint of deviousness in her dark eyes—one that you didn’t trust.

“...Alright,” You conceded, nodding. “I will try.”

You would not try. You were going to white-knuckle your way through the favors, hopefully in absolute silence.

“So do you like doing this stuff?”

So much for absolute silence. You cast Jake a surly gaze before you looked back down at the small favor bag and counted out ten hershey kisses from the bowl on the table.

“You mean favors?” You asked.

“I mean wedding stuff.”

You shrugged a little. “It’s fine, I guess.”

“It seems pretty important to you.”

“It’s important to Jenna. Jenna’s important to me.”

Jake grunted softly. You could see him nodding in your periphery. You tied the favor bag closed, setting it into the box beside you.

“You worried?” He asked.

“About what?”

“Them.”

Your eyes darted to Jake. You expected a smug smile, but you found something more contemplative there. You pursed your lips. This felt like as much of a trap as Jenna’s question. “...I guess when you know, you know,” You shrugged. “And with his move coming up, you know. It makes sense.”

You tied the next bag closed, setting it into the box. You glanced over, brows raising as Jake tied ribbon with laborious slowness. For every bag he finished, you finished three. You were certain he was drawing this out to get under your skin—and you were sorry to say that it was working.

“You seem to have put all of this stuff together really fast,” He said.

“People get booked out so far in advance. I just wanted to make sure Jenna and Thomas had everything they needed.”

“So that’s why you took the steamroller approach?”

Your frown deepened, brow furrowing at the question.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You totally took over the planning.”

“Jenna wasn’t going to get to most of it,” You defended.

“You could’ve left her to it.”

“She asked for my help.”

“Your help, not your dictatorship.”

Your eyes narrowed at the assertion.

“You know what?” You smiled. “I’ve got this. You can go.”

You dropped the next favor bag into the box before taking up an empty one. Jake chuckled, and the sound raised your hackles.

“You really don’t like pushback, huh?” He asked.

“And yet, you keep talking.”

“You doing all of this in case you never get to do it for yours?”

It made you go still, your stomach twisting with indignation.

“Excuse me?” You asked, tone icy and low.

Jake shrugged. “You know, plan the wedding you’d like for yourself in case you don’t have one.”

“Where the fuck did that come from?”

“From your planning with an iron fist.” Jake leaned closer, dropping the favor bag into the box before he settled back in his seat.

“Someone had to do it,” You insisted. “Jenna’s work schedule is nuts, you and Thomas are swamped at the base, and neither of them have family here. Would you rather I didn’t do anything?”

Jake was quiet for a moment, his gaze sweeping your face.

“...Okay,” He conceded after a moment.

“Okay?” You repeated, watching him pluck up a new bag.

“You’re right,” He shrugged.

“Then what the fuck was with the third degree?”

“Just wanted to see you squirm a little.”

“...Nice of you to do it without damaging any bags this time,” You sniffed, turning back to the favors.

“There’s still time.”

“I will cut your dick off.”

Jake just laughed loudly, tipping his chin back with the force of it. You glanced over at him, feeling a slight lightening toward him. He held his hands up in concession, and you each turned back to your favors. You reached out for the candy, going still as his hands brushed yours.

“Ladies first,” He insisted, drawing back. You mumbled your thanks, grabbing a handful of candies and leaning back in your seat again. You found that you didn’t mind the light small talk that Jake made after that. The questions leveled at you were less probing, and far less irritating. As the evening went on, you didn’t even mind the way Jake smiled at you, or the feeling of him watching you. He was still an asshole, sure—but he was an asshole that was making favors way faster than before.

“What do you have to do this week?”

“Uh,” You sighed, then trilled your lips as you clicked through your email. “Not a ton, actually. I have to pick up my dress…And the bachelorette party is tonight.” You shifted your phone between your shoulder and your ear, eyeing your work email. “What about you guys?”

“Not much, far as I know. I was calling you for my marching orders,” Jake insisted.

You smiled a little, shaking your head.

“There isn’t a ton this week. We’ll have to pick up the flowers next week and get those and some of the other things over to the venue—you know, the favors and stuff.”

“You gonna need my help with that?”

“TBD.”

“Gimme a call if you do. I’ll be happy to lend my strong arms to those flower arrangements.”

“I’m never letting you anywhere near a vase again.”

“You ever gonna get over that?”

“Fuck no.”

“Seriously, though. Let me know if there’s anything you need.”

“Don’t worry about it. I know your schedule is hell this week.”

“Tom tell you that?”

“No, Jenna did—though presumably, Thomas told her, so technically.”

“If you change your mind, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Yeah, I will.” Then, against your better judgement, “Thanks, Jake.”

“Anytime, sweetheart. Can’t have that pretty little head popping off from stress.”

And there it is. That was what you got for being nice to Jake fucking Seresin.

“I’m hanging up now,” You warned.

“Alright,” He chuckled. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yep. Bye.”

You pulled your phone away, hesitating for just a second before hanging up. He was ridiculous. But Jenna wasn’t completely wrong—he was sort of a good guy, when he wanted to be. And he was sort of attractive, in an All-American, smarmy, smirking kinda way. His lips were nice, and his eyes were sort of…Entrancing…But he was fine, whatever happened. He was sort of fine to you now.

And you had yet to have another purse incident, so maybe he really was trying.

“Are y’all havin’ a nice time?”

The smile was clear in his voice, and you wanted to damn it. But, something in your belly went sweet and warm at the question. Then again, maybe it wasn’t him. Maybe it was the tequila shots…Or the espresso martinis…Or the vodka soda.

“Why do you—Seems like…Weird to ask,” You managed before pressing your hand over your mouth to swallow a burp.

“Saw you on Jenna’s instagram.”

“Oh,” You frowned. That must’ve been why she’d been holding her phone up at you and crowing, Wooo! while you'd all taken shots a few minutes ago. You cleared your throat before reaching for your drink.

“Why are you calling me?” You added.

“Just makin’ sure you have a safe way home.”

“Pfff, it’s fine. Tom’s gonna come get Jenna.”

“I know. I didn’t mean Jenna. I meant you.”

“I’ll get a car or somethin’.”

“I’d feel better if I came and got you.”

“I dunno how much longer we’re gonna be—and don’t you have a super early morning?”

“Who says?”

“Jenna…And probably Tom, which is how I got the—”

“Right,” Jake cut you off. “I’ll be fine. Just lemme know when you need me to come and getchya.”

“Why Mr. Sersin, that might be the nicest—” You winced as you hiccuped. “Nicest thing you’ve ever done.”

“For you?”

“I’m thinking, like, ever, probably.”

Jake chuckled on the other end of the phone, and you slid down in your seat a little, stomach twisting with the sound.

“Lemme know,” He repeated.

“Yessir.”

“You gonna thank me again?”

“Maybe when you get here.”

“You gonna thank me now?”

“Nope,” You shook your head, buckling up.

“Why not?”

“I want nuggies and fries. Can we go to McDonald’s?” You tipped your head to the side, smiling widely at him.

“Oh, so now I’m getting you food, too?” Jake asked, pulling into traffic.

“S’what you get for volunteering me to take me home…And for ruining my purse.”

“How many times do I have to apologize for that?”

“I’ll let you know when you hit capacity,” You slid down in your seat, resting your head back and closing your eyes. Oh—No, bad plan, bad plan. Your stomach twisted, and you forced your eyes open again, swallowing thickly. Very, very bad plan. You tipped your head to the side again, eyeing Jake. He looked quite handsome, his eyes flashing with the odd shine of streetlights. You blinked slowly, taking him in. Was he always this attractive? The guy’s face should be on posters or something.

“You doin’ okay over there?”

His voice was nice, too. It was warm and soothing, and sweet. You turned to look forward again as you saw him shift to look at you.

“Fine,” You mumbled. “Hungy.”

“Hungry?”

“Hungy,” You insisted.

“Still want nuggets and fries?”

“Uh-huh. Please.”

“Alright,” He nodded, turning the car into the McDonald’s drive thru.

“And a Sprite,” You added.

“You’re getting water.”

“Water and Sprite.”

“...Fine.”

“Thank you.”

“Say it again.”

“Get fucked.”

He grinned, teeth shining in the glow of the drive thru's fluorescent light. You watched him as he rolled his window down, leaning out to give your order. You reached down, taking up your purse and poking through it.

“Put that away,” Jake waved you off.

“What? No. It’s my food.”

“I don’t care. Put your money away.”

“No.”

“You’re not paying.”

“I’m gonna pay!”

“No, you’re not.”

You pouted as Jake reached out to pay with his own money. You glanced around the car, frowning. You reached out quietly, carefully opening the glove compartment and tucking the money inside. Then you rooted around innocently as Jake turned back to you.

“What are you looking for?” He asked.

“Hand sanitizer or something,” You shrugged, shoving the glove closed again.

“It’s right there,” Jake pointed to where it sat in his cupholder.

“Ah, neat,” You smiled smugly, taking it up and leaving room for him to set down your Sprite.

“Here,” He added, setting the bottle of water and bag of food down in your lap.

“Fuck me, that smells good,” You mumbled. Jake chuckled softly, steering the car toward the parking lot. You pushed yourself up in your seat, opening the bag.

“You get something, too?” You asked.

“Nope.”

“Then why are we stopping?”

“So you don’t get queasy, eating while we’re stopping and starting.”

“Shockingly nice of you.”

“Why is that shocking?”

“Cause you’re kind of a dick.” You didn’t even think about saying it. You just rooted through your bag and stuffed a handful of fries in your mouth.

“...You really think that?”

Your chewing slowed at his question. He didn’t even sound like he was teasing that time. You glanced over nervously, surprised to find him watching you. You swallowed thickly before you shrugged, picking up your sprite and taking a sip.

“I dunno,” You mumbled.

“You sounded pretty certain a moment ago.”

“You were a dick when I met you…And then for like two months after that.”

“Am I dick right now?”

“Mm…” You hummed, considering. “No. You’re kinda sweet now. It’s actually weirding me out a little bit. But,” You shrugged, drawing the nuggets out. “Maybe it’s not that weird. Jenna said you’re a good guy. She’s usually got a pretty good sense when it comes to people.”

“That’s what Thomas said.”

“Thomas was right. Is right.” You waved a hand dismissively. “You know what I mean. Want a nug?”

“Sure.”

You opened the box and plucked one out, holding it out to him. You were still digging into your fries with your other hand; you didn’t see Jake lean in. You just felt his lips and tongue brush your fingers as he took the nugget with his lips. Your heart stuttered in your throat, and you stayed perfectly still for a moment.

“S’good,” He mumbled, snapping you back into action.

“Hope so, you paid for it.”

“I’m not gonna go broke ordering from the Dollar Menu.”

“And getting a Sprite.”

“Thanks for the reminder.”

You glanced over, smiling a little as he took up the soda and took a sip.

“Get going on that water,” He added, nodding toward the bottle in your lap. “We don’t want you waking up with a hangover.”

You hummed, opening the water and taking a long, greedy sip.

“...Jake?”

“Mhm?”

“Why’d you offer to drive me home?”

“Wanted to make sure you got home okay.”

“Could’ve just asked Thomas to make sure I got in a car or something.” You turned to look at Jake, frowning as he reached into the bag and fished out a few fries.

“I’ll feel better seeing you get in myself.”

You watch him raise his fistful of fries, shoving a couple into his mouth.

Himself? He could’ve just let it go. He could’ve texted you or Jenna in the morning to make sure. You bit your lip, taking hold of the sprite and swirling the ice around a little in the cup.

“...Jake?”

“Mm?”

“You’re not a dick.”

“Careful, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want you saying something you regret while under the influence.”

You rolled your eyes a touch, shaking your head and looking down at the food in your lap.

“...Think you may have been a little right, too,” You mumbled.

“What do you mean?”

“About…You know. Taking the wedding over. I don’t think I’m gonna get there, you know?” The admission thickened your throat as it left, and welled tears up in your eyes. You found yourself glaring down at the food, as if that would fend off the way your tipsiness and insecurities were mingling. Jake’s enduring lack of response did nothing but make you feel even more silly, and even more exposed.

“...You don’t have to worry about that,” Jake said after a moment. You huffed out a bitter little laugh, shaking your head.

“I don’t know. I’m not exactly the easiest person to deal with.”

“You can be a little prickly,” He agreed, making you smile in spite of yourself. “But you’re pretty damn sweet once you let someone in. I don’t think I know anyone more loyal, more hardworking. Jenna and Thomas are lucky to have you.”

The compliments surprised you, and you couldn’t help but turn to look at him. You turned, expecting his usual cocky, teasing grin again. Instead, you found Jake watching you with a soft, kind smile. It made your heart leap into your throat. You hurriedly dropped your gaze back to your food, unsure of how to answer. He’d knocked you speechless.

“Finish your food,” Jake advised, reaching out and snagging another one of your nuggets.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” You grumbled, even as you fished into your bag for a few more fries.

“Watch that attitude, sweetheart. I’ll pour out that Sprite.”

You wake up with a throbbing head, a dry mouth and a text:

JS (Asshole)

Hope you listen to your alarm this morning

You couldn’t help but smile a bit, pushing yourself to lean back against your headboard. You hesitated before you opened your phone, texting back:

Thanks for the ride home. and the nugs.

You pushed yourself out of bed, groaning as you headed for the bathroom. By the time you returned you had three new texts from Jake:

And the fries?

And the water.

Not to mention the sprite.

Not to mention, but here you are, mentioning it.

Need me to do anything in the next couple of days?

Pick up your dress?

Your brows raised at the question, surprised that he remembered that that was on your list.

I can get it. Thanks, though.

You bit your lip, peering down at the phone. You found yourself wanting to keep talking to him—to ask how his day was going, what he had to get done that day, something—but instead you tossed your phone back onto the bed, scrubbing your hands over your face. Fuck, alright. You needed to get ready for work, and to stop thinking of why Jake’s name appearing on your screen made your belly flutter.

“You can unclench now.”

Unclench what? Your ass? Your jaw? You didn’t ask for clarification; you just threw a fireless, surly gaze back toward Jake. It didn’t hold at the sight of his easygoing smile. You couldn’t help but smile before you turned your head, turning to look at the checklist in your hands. You only had a few more things to do for the wedding tomorrow. The favors were at the venue; the flowers were arriving in the morning; you and Jake had set up the tables and chairs in the reception space, and in the ceremony space. The other bridesmaids, groomsmen, and the scant family members had already turned up and were milling about, but two very important people were missing.

“I will,” You raised your hand to use air quotes, “‘unclench’ when everyone is accounted for. Honestly,” You reached down, plucking your phone out of your bag and peering at time. “If Jenna’s late for her own rehearsal, I’m gonna…”

“Gonna what?”

“...Scream?”

“You’re really gonna scream?”

“Just, like, in my head.”

“Would you scream aloud if I told you I didn’t have my suit ready?”

Your fingers flexed around your notes, your eyes narrowing at Jake as he shifted to sit in the ceremony seat in front of you.

“...Depends,” You spoke slowly. “Do you really not have it ready, or are you just fucking with me?”

“Just fucking with you.” He smiled cheekily up at you.

“Why are you like this?”

“You mean perfect?”

Before you could answer, you heard Jenna call out, “Sorry! Sorry, we hit traffic.”

You turned to see her and Thomas coming in together, their hands joined. You strolled over to her, meeting them in the middle as Thomas broke away from her.

“Did y’all really get stuck in traffic?” You asked.

“No. We pulled over to fuck in a parking lot.”

You snorted a laugh, unable to help it.

“Speaking of which,” She added, looping her arm through yours. “Have you met Tommy’s brother?”

“I think we, like, said hi,” You shrugged.

“I’m sitting you two together at the rehearsal dinner.”

“Why?”

“Cause you need to get some, lady. This wedding’s got you all wound up—and you’re not even the one getting married.”

You didn’t have a chance to argue, or a chance to analyze why your gaze absently darted to Jake at her assertion. Jenna was already waving to the others.

“Alright!” She called out. “Let’s get this over with, I’m fucking starving!”

“What are you doing here?”

You couldn’t help but ask. It was early, and stunning to see him there, surrounded by mason jars, bundles of flowers, and bites of twine. Jake hardly looked away from his work.

“What’s it look like?” He asked.

“It looks like you’re winding up to ruin some purses.”

He did smile then, peering up at you from under his lashes.

“You gonna stand there and sass me, or are you going to help?”

You smiled, shrugging your bag off of your shoulder as you joined him at the table.

“You been here long?” You asked.

“About ten minutes.”

“Could’ve told me you’d be here early, I would’ve been here with you.”

“Figured you could use a bit of a break.”

You reached out, untying a bundle of flowers and tucking them into a half-filled mason jar. You could feel Jake glancing toward you. You’d become so familiar with his side-eyed speculation over the last couple of weeks that the feeling was unmistakable.

“...You seemed to be having fun last night,” He said. Your brow knitted together.

“At the rehearsal?”

“Dinner,” He clarified. You shrugged a little.

“It was a nice dinner.”

“Looked like you were having a nice conversation with Chris.”

Your hands went briefly still with confusion for a moment. Sure, Jenna had made the introduction to Thomas’ brother, and sure, the two of you had spoken a little, but…Well, you didn’t think it was anything that Jake would’ve noticed, or anyone else for that matter.

“It was alright,” You shrugged. “We were just talking. He’s nice.”

“Gonna save him a dance later?”

You chuckled, shrugging.

“Probably not.”

“...Gonna save me a dance later?”

You pushed the jar aside, reaching for the next bundle. You didn’t dare look at Jake as your face heated.

“Play your cards right, Seresin, I might even save you two.”

It felt dangerous to offer, and silly to say. But—

“I’ll be on my best behavior.” He leaned in to promise it; the murmur of it brushed against the shell of your ear. You swallowed thickly, fighting off a shiver as you reached for the next bundle of flowers.

You had the silliest thought as you walked down the aisle—as you took careful, even steps in your nude-toned heels, the fabric of your jewel-toned dress swirling around your ankles. You couldn’t think of anyone else—not Thomas ahead of you, or Jenna behind you. Your eyes were set on Jake—on the way he was grinning at you, watching you as though you’d hung the sun in the sky just for him. You took your place alongside the other bridesmaids, hands flexing around your bouquet. You caught Jake’s eye on the way to watch Jenna come down the aisle, grinning as he shot you a wink.

It had been a long few months, a hellish experience at the start. But Thomas and Jenna were having their day the way they wanted it. The DJ was ready, the catering was setting up, the photographer was on deck to take photos of the ceremony and the wedding party—and so long as all of that stayed on track, you might be able to relax.

“Thought I’d find you out here.”

You looked up, smiling tiredly as you spotted Jake. You’d taken refuge in the area outside of the reception hall, on one of the few benches in the unoccupied smoking area. You’d drawn your feet out of your shoes, resting your heels in them as you flexed your aching toes.

“I needed some air,” You shrugged, “And some quiet. It’s been a loooong day.”

Your eyes darted to Jake’s chest as he nimbly undid the buttons of his jacket. He settled onto the bench beside you before he reached around, setting his jacket around your shoulders. You smiled, reaching up and tugging it closer to yourself.

“Such a gentleman.”

“Don’t get too excited. I still owe you a purse.”

You laughed, tipping your head back against the wall.

“I think we’re even.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, smiling at him. “I’m sure.”

You were both quiet for a moment, just taking one another in as the sounds of the party drifted out to the two of you.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Jake warned. You frowned, but he added, “Think you can stand those shoes just long enough for that dance you owe me?”

You chuckled. “You were on such good behavior, I think I owe you two.”

“We can start with one,” He offered, standing and holding his hand out to you. “Sock the other one away for later.”

You smiled, slipping your feet back into your shoes properly and taking hold of Jake’s hand. It felt easy—warm and welcoming as it delicately cradled yours. His hand smoothed under the jacket and over your lower back, drawing you close as you raised your other hand to his shoulder. The two of you swayed gently with the music drifting from the reception. You found yourself holding Jake’s gaze, and wanting to hold it. Just a little ago, you might’ve shied away. A few weeks ago, you wouldn’t have even taken his hand.

“Thank you for your help for the last couple of weeks,” You said. “I’ve really appreciated it.”

“Happy to.”

“Happy to the whole time?”

“I took a little warming up…But so did you.”

“Yeah,” You conceded, “I did.”

Jake’s brows rose, chin tipping down in amusement.

“Did you just agree with me?”

“It’s happened before,” You laughed.

“And I savor it every time.”

You rolled your eyes at his insistence, playing at annoyance. The feeling was promptly shaken as his thumb swept over your lower back.

“You’re a drama queen, Seresin.”

“I won’t be a groomzilla. You have my word.”

“Oh, do I?” You chuckled. “Why would you need to give me your word for that?”

“Because I realized something today.”

“What’s that?”

“The next time I see you walking down the aisle toward me, I want you wearing a white dress.”

Your stomach flipped, your feet freezing in their place. Jake didn’t belabor the swaying. He went as still as you did, holding your gaze with sweet stubbornness. Your heart thudded roughly in your chest; your mouth went dry.

“...That’s a very bold statement, Seresin.”

You wanted to sound firm, imposing, but you knew that you sounded unsure, and nervous. Jake nodded.

“I know.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.”

“What if you change your mind—?”

“I’m not going to change my mind.”

“You hardly know me.”

“I know you better than you think. And I’m not asking you to marry me tomorrow.” He tipped his head to the side, holding your gaze. “But I am going to ask. You can count on that.”

You could dismiss it. You could tell Jake that he was being silly. You could tell him that he was drunk, that he didn’t mean it. You could pull back, go inside.

But you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to draw away; you didn’t want to pretend that this was some drunken rambling. You just swallowed thickly.

“Are you going to get me an engagement purse?”

Jake’s grin was bright and beautiful, and you were pressed so closely to his chest that you felt the rumble of his laugh. He drew you closer, resting his forehead against yours.

“I will get you whatever you want, sweetheart.”

You grinned, looping your arm around his neck and drawing him closer. Your heart stuttered as Jake’s nose nudged yours, his breath brushing across your lips. You tipped your chin up toward him, unable to stop your smiling as Jake closed the gap. Your eyes slipped closed as you allowed yourself to melt into his chest, enraptured with the feeling of his tender kiss. You giggled as his hand slid down your lower back, hovering just above your ass.

“Watch it with that, mister,” You warned. “You gotta buy me dinner first.”

“The nugs don’t count?”

You leaned back a little, considering.

“Alright. One squeeze,” You warned, raising a finger to point at him. Jake laughed.

“We got time, sweetheart. I’ll save it up.”

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @paintballkid711 ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight; @recklessworry ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @nolanell ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @tropes-and-tales

#Jake Seresin x Reader #Jake Seresin x You #Jake Hangman Seresin x Reader #Hangman x Readear #Jake Seresin/Reader #Jake Seresin/You #The Worst Best Man

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six-strings-of-fate · 5 months

Text

Hands-On Viewing Experience *✧:*₊ °

An N$FW Ross Lynch x gn!Reader Fic

Sum: You've known Ross for a while, albeit as a friend-of-a-friend. Though he's always been friendly and respectful (and pretty damn attractive,) you two haven't spent much alone time. However, when all of you and his friends cancel on the night's plans and he invites you in for a movie night, the two of you become much closer than you ever expected. Word Count: 4,362 Rating: Mature (Oral Sex, Language) A/N: This is my first real shot at any xReader stuff, so I hope you like it!

Ross stood in the doorway in front of you, in nothing but the pair of gray briefs he swore he was gonna throw out for being too small. A T-shirt and jeans wasn't underdressed after all, it seemed.

“Oh, what’s up?” A small grin broke on Ross’s otherwise tired face as he rested his hand on the door frame. “I didn’t think you were coming over. Everyone else cancelled.”

“Yeah, but I was really looking forward to all of us hanging out again,” Though you spoke fairly evenly, your thoughts were all jumbled up with a scantily clad Ross in front of you. His skin was a light pink all over with a slight glow to it. Maybe it was your imagination, but his muscles all seemed to pop more than usual. “Sorry, I should’ve texted first.”

“It’s chill. Actually, I just finished working out and was gonna have a little movie night with myself.”

“Oh, right,” You responded with a quick smile, expecting him to ask you to leave, “Well, I-“

“But, since you’re already here,” Ross nodded his head upwards, gesturing towards his home, “I wouldn't say no to a little company. Especially not yours.”

You take a moment to respond, just a little caught up on the fact Ross was inviting you in like he wasn’t half-naked. You and him were close enough, sure, and it was impossible to have an objectively sexy pop-rock star friend and not see him in his underwear from time to time, but Ross had never been one to just be half-naked in front of you.

When you glanced up at Ross, though, you got the impression he knew this just as well. His amber eyes, trained solely on you, glistened in a way familiar to you from all your nights out on the town. The look a half-drunk, half-dressed, wholly-horny Ross gave to whoever he decided would be that night's mistake.

"Sure, why not?" Considering your friendship, you might be shaping up to be Ross's and your biggest mistake of all. Still, as you watched his muscled frame step aside to let you in, you couldn't be more grateful neither of you were perfect.

As you walked through the doorway, you felt warm skin against your neck as Ross draped his arm over your shoulder. With his side hugged firmly against yours, you could feel him humming My Heart Will Go On as well as you can hear it.

"Celine Dion? What, are we gonna watch Titanic or something?" You asked as Ross guided you into his living room. Even though you'd been to his place enough to know your way around, you didn't mind him guiding you around if he was this close.

"Don't judge me, okay?" Ross pleaded as you both came to a stop. He turned his head to look down at you, an exaggerated pout on his face.

"Of course not, it's a total classic or something," You responded, trying your best not to giggle. It was no secret Ross was more sentimental than the average guy, which was certainly something you loved about him, but it always struck you as a little humorous when he would recommend shows or songs that your grandma would criticize for being too sappy.

"Whatever, dude," Ross scoffed, removing his arm from your shoulder and patting you twice on the back, "I'll go grab the movie. In the meantime, you can sit here and rethink your taste in movies."

Despite his instructions, you found yourself standing still as Ross walked down the hallway to his room. Just like the rest of them, his back muscles seemed to bulge out from his body with a post-workout glow. Your eyes followed every muscle from his shoulder and down his spine, imagining how it'd feel to run your hands over them. Hard to the touch as your body would be pressed against his, something to grip while he shakes the bed f-

You shook your head, coming to your senses as he turned the corner. He was just your friend and nothing more, a fact you reminded yourself of as you went to sit down.

Ross's living room was comfortably familiar to you. Supported by hardwood flooring and surrounded by white walls, the living room housed brown leather couches and a small wooden coffee table. Against the wall behind them was a desk, flanked with two large black bookshelves, filled with photo albums, DVDs, and of course, books.

The leather of the couch stretched as you sat down, and you stretched in kind, grateful to be sat anywhere after the walk to Ross’s place. Straight across from you was his TV, on top of a glass tabletop with two rows of shelf supporting it. Several gaming consoles, devices, and board game boxes sat atop them.

After a minute or so of shuffling coming from Ross's room, he returned, a DVD box in hand and blanket over his shoulder.

"Got it," Ross held the DVD up to show you, then tossing it up in the air and catching it with his left hand. With his right, he pulled the blanket off himself and tossed it to you.

As you spread the blanket over yourself, your eyes again drifted to Ross as he took the disc out of the box went to put it in. He bent down to the DVD player, sliding the disc in.

Though Ross claimed his underwear were two sizes too small, you didn't mind the snug fit. Not when they were practically tearing at the seams trying to hold his ass in them. You could see both cheeks clearly, big, round, and bouncing as Ross jostled his DVD player.

"Piece of shit!" He grunted as he smacked around the poor device. Turning his head slightly, he added, "Sorry, it's a little slow. We've had this thing since my R5 days."

You probably mumbled out something like a response to Ross’s comment. Not like you would remember if you did, considering what started jiggling as Ross started roughing up his DVD player.

His dick was heavy. It had to be, considering how it had been saugging in his underwear since you'd gotten there. Now, with the aggressive motion of Ross smacking his DVD player, it swung up and down with such weight it pulled his underwear down a bit. Had the machine not been such a little bitch and began functioning, you might have gotten to see everything.

"Alright, it's working for now," Ross huffed, pulling up his underwear and resting his hands on his hips. So much for finding out why he was cast as Austin Moon. "Hopefully it'll hold out long enough for us to watch the whole thing. You thirsty?"

"What-?" You blinked several times, assuming you'd been called out for your not-so-subtle staring. You didn't think you were looking anywhere indecent, but his whole body was a minefield of places you could get lost daydreaming about.

"Are you thirsty? For a drink?" Ross tilted his head, a little confusion in his voice. "I just got sponsored by this sports drink company and they gave me more juice than I could ever want."

"Oh! Sure, yeah, totally," Affirmatives stumbled out of your mouth as you felt your face grew hot. The only thing keeping you from bursting into actual flames on the spot was the knowledge that you avoided the thousand-times worse situation of Ross knowing you were checking him out.

You somehow salvage the name of your favorite flavor from of the housefire of embarrassment that was your brain, telling it to Ross. With a smile as relaxed and charming as always, Ross gave you a nod and went into the kitchen.

Not more than a minute later, Ross returned, two cartons in hand.

“Heads up,” He called, tossing a carton to you and opening his red mixed-berry drink. Although you fumble it into your lap, Ross gives you a supportive thumbs up anyway.

The cap to the drink was unnecessarily complicated, taking all your focus to figure out and open (un-latch, un-hook, push down and twist? It's a surprise you didn't have to answer an algebra problem, too.) You were so focused, in fact, that you didn't notice Ross coming to sit next to you until he was practically on you.

Ross's couch was a three-seater, with room for two more people than that. With all that space on the sofa available to him, Ross chose to sit directly next to you. Not elbow-to-elbow close, not even arm-to-arm close, but him-slinging-his-arm-over-you-and-pulling-your-body-into-his close.

Even holding you against his barely clothed body, Ross was as nonchalant as ever.

"Okay," Ross sighed, seeming to lean against you as he settledhimself into the couch. After navigating the Blu-Ray menu to the "Play Movie" button, he turned his head to look at you, "Comfy?"

His face was inches from yours now. Minuscule details about him became clear to you- his stubble, the dimple on his right cheek, and several tiny blemishes on his face normally concealed by makeup. Things you hadn’t been able to see before, things most people never would, glowed in the dim light of his TV as his warm, minty(?) breath grazed your face.

"Yeah," You whispered, "I am."

For the most part, you and Ross were quiet after that. Though your focus was mostly on the fact that Ross and you were so close while he was so naked, the parts of Titanic you did focus on were pretty alright (even if all your investment in the story came from imagining Ross as Jack and yourself as Rose.)

After about the halfway point of the movie, (that is, an hour and a half of him cradling you against his body,) Ross began to slide his arm down your back. Casually, while he made some comment about the film. He rested it low on your body, his forearm wrapping around your waist and hand exerting a slight grip on your hip. His index finger played around with your waistband, like it was waiting for your permission to rip your pants clean off.

With the suggestive placement of Ross's hand, your mind started swarming with the same thoughts it had been earlier. Feeling you up, watching Titanic, being half-fucking-naked alone with you- if he wasn't trying to communicate he was into you, then he was communicating how in-sane he was.

So, you rested his head on his shoulder. Considering how close you were, it was barely more than a slight tilt, but Ross noticed. He rested his head on top of yours, giving your hip a light squeeze.

“Y’know, I’m actually kinda glad everyone else cancelled on us,” Ross spoke, his voice low and quiet, yet still reverberating through your head, "I'm glad we're spending some one-on-one time together."

"Me too," You responded, your hand finding a comfortable spot on Ross's thigh, "I can't remember the last time it's been just me and you."

"It hasn't," Ross responded quickly, then following up with an awkward, "I mean, you were my brother's friend first, so we usually only hang out with him around."

Before you could appreciate the fact Ross was as fixated on the fact you two were alone as you were, you felt his head turn until you could hear his slow, deep breathing in your ear.

"That's why I never made my move before," With every word, the soft skin of his lips brushed against your ear. Though his voice was even lower than before, it seemed a thousand times louder than the movie playing in front of you.

It took every ounce of boldness within you to turn your head too. Nose-to-nose with Ross, you could tell he’d let you kiss him right then. Still, you couldn’t resist letting this moment go on a little longer.

“Well, he’s not here now,” With every word, your lips brushed against Ross’s the slightest bit, “But you haven’t done anything yet.”

Ross broke into a smile, “You think I haven’t made a move tonight?”

“I think you haven’t made the move tonight.”

Ross opened his mouth, which you presumed was to speak. Anticipating his next words, you were surprised as the banter between you both was cut short by Ross kissing you on the lips.

For a second, didn’t register it was happening. He barely had to move to reach your lips, and you didn’t move at all. It was two or three seconds before you even thought to kiss back. It was nice, but Ross pulled away too soon for you to appreciate it fully.

“There,” Ross ran his hand through his hair, “That better?”

"A little," You said. Amazingly, even as heat rose through your chest and face, you played it cool.

"A little? What, you want more?" Ross responded, not really a question or offer. Just a statement of fact, plain and simple.

Paying Ross back in kind for catching you off guard before, you leaned in and kissed him in place of a response. You shimmied your hand up his back and placed your hand behind his head, making sure he wouldn't pull away so quickly.

The best part of kissing Ross wasn't that he was objectively amazing at it. It wasn't his silky hair in your hand or soft lips on yours. It wasn't even him caressing your lower back under your shirt. It was how he smelled.

God, he smelled good. More than good, intoxicating. His woodsy deodorant mixed with his post-workout musk filled your nostrils he pulled you in closer, driving you crazier with every whiff you got.

Eventually, his lips weren’t enough for you anymore, and you began to kiss him across his cheek and jaw, settling on his neck. It was thick and smelled strongly of Ross's cologne- of Ross, that every ounce of restraint escaped your body along with desperate breaths and yearning moans.

You felt Ross’s deep moans vibrate in his throat as you took bits of loose skin between your teeth and ran your tongue over his larynx destabilized by heavy breaths. Your free hand roamed his chest, rock-hard just as you predicted, eventually finding it's way down to his navel. Without hesitation, your fingers began to tug at the waistband of his underwear, and questions of whether your prediction about what was underneath were as true as those about his abs.

"Take 'em off," Ross spoke in an authoritative tone you'd never heard before, "I know you want to."

You wanted to, more than Ross could ever you did. The second Ross raised his hips up to allow easy removal, you yanked his underwear down to his knees.

You stared at his cock. Gawked, even. How could you not? You'd been daydreaming about it for the past 90 minutes daydreaming about it.

It was more than everything you thought it'd be. So thick it couldn't stand up on its own, Ross's dick rested against his stomach. You couldn't tell it's exact length, but experience and intuition told you it was comfortably within the ballpark of 8 inches of length. It was a couple shades lighter than the rest of his body, with the head and balls a light shade of red. A couple of veins ran across it, the most notable being a thick, jagged line from the head of his dick to the bottom of his shaft. If you weren't so dead set on getting it into one or more of your holes, you'd find yourself intimidated.

Ross tilted your head upwards, shifting your gaze from his cock to his smirk. He didn't have to use his words to ask if you liked what you saw, and you didn't have to use yours to tell him you did. Instead, you both found yourself leaning into another kiss.

It felt natural, the way your bodies turned to face one another's, even though your first kiss with him wasn't five minutes ago. Arching your back and leaning into him, Ross wrapped his arms around you and laid on his back, pulling you down with him.

With the help of gravity, Ross's cock was pressed up against your chest. Though you weren't getting any skin-to-skin contact, you still felt the massive mass of meat below you. Arms gripped tight around you, Ross jerked your body upwards and downwards, creating friction on his dick that caused the vibrating moans you felt leave his mouth and enter yours.

Soon, you realized once more that Ross's lips weren't enough for you, and you knew his neck wouldn't be either. Once Ross's grip on you loosened, you moved from his mouth to give a quick kiss on his neck, then finally biting his left nipple.

"Shit!" Ross bucked his hips into your chest, but your mouth remained sucking on his nipple. You kept kissing and biting it, moans vibrating in your chest as Ross grinded his cock against it.

By the time you moved on, licking every single one of Ross's abs and the space between them. The lower you got, the fewer places you could lick that didn't have some hair bristling pleasantly against your tongue. Your shirt was wet with precum from Ross's rock-hard dick, stil rubbing up and down against your neck. With the sounds and movements he was making being so desperate, you knew exactly what he needed from you.

So, your tongue continued its journey down Ross's body, until it was finally at the base of his cock. Your tongue ran in half circles around Ross's shaft, a little less hairy than his navel. His hips were continuously pumping up down slightly, grunting like he was trying to keep himself calm and failing miserably.

You gave a few teasing licks to the bottom of his shaft, right over his vein, before pulling away and pleasuring his balls instead. His hips shot up as your tongue touched the skin under his balls, and he shouted a couple explosives as you continued licking.

Finally, he yanked your head away, reddening and gasping for breath as he told you, "Just- Fuck- Just focus on my dick, 'cause that's- that's too fucking much for me right now."

You nodded in agreement, promising yourself to return back down there to make him cum. With the power to completely unravel Ross, to leave him blushing and creaming and gasping for air, it would be criminal not to use it.

In the meantime, you did what he asked of you and lifted your head upwards, leaving less than an inch between your lips and the head of Ross's cock. It glistened, already leaking precum like Ross was ready to blow. A firm lick could've finished him off, but you intended on making this last.

You tasted Ross's precum, pressing the tip of your tongue on the head of his dick. He whimpered, placing his hand on the back of your head without exerting any pressure. The liquid was warmer than his skin, citrusy and rich with a flavor you'd never tasted before, that left you wanting more and more.

Running your tongue all over the head of Ross's cock, you lapped up all rest of the precum as Ross released soft sounds of pleasure. His hips rocked up and down ever so slightly, like his body was moving in a pleasure-driven trance that slowly intensified as you explored his cock further. His body jolted each time your tongue explored somewhere new, returning to an increased pace of thrusting right after. From under the head, down his shaft, and around the base, your tongue had thoroughly mapped out Ross's cock before your lips even touched it. He was moaning and pumping his hips, but you were just getting started.

After quickly licking off the precum on Ross’s cock again, you took the head into your mouth. You only intended to put a little into your mouth, but Ross bucked his hips into the air, and before you knew it, you had the head of his dick against the roof of your mouth.

“Mmfph!” You exclaimed, mouth full of cock. It wasn’t uncomfortable, nor was enough of it in that you couldn’t breathe, but it did surprise you. Readjusting quickly, you made space in the back of your mouth so that Ross could continue thrusting up and down without triggering your gag reflex.

From the sounds he made, you were putting him and heaven. He grunted and groaned, barely taking time to breathe between each noise. Cursing and moaning your name, you felt his hand press your head further down on his cock.

You took the extra length in your mouth in stride, gripping your left thumb and hoping for the best. Almost all of his dick was in your mouth, air coming into your throat every spare second Ross was out.

It wasn’t the action of sucking dick that brought you pleasure, though. It was Ross’s reaction, becoming ever more frantic and aggressive the longer you had him in your mouth.

“Holy fuck, you’re fucking-“ Ross gasped, unable to finish his sentence before letting out a shuddering moan. He hadn’t said anything, but you could tell he was close.

After another few seconds, you pulled your mouth off his cock and licked his shaft once again. Predicting his upwards thrust at the change in sensation, you only licked halfway down his dick, letting his sudden motion bring the base up to your tongue. As his hips fell, you lowered your head with them, running your tougue around and under his balls.

Like before, Ross's reaction was explosive, but you were prepared this time. You wrapped one hand around his cock and stroking, pressing down on his abs to keep his hips from jumping too high as he cried out with pleasure.

"Oh my g-" Ross, gasping for air, wriggled ferociously even as you held him down. Your tongue would've quite literally driven him up the wall were he standing.

A waterfall of expletives and precum flooded out of his mouth and cock respectively, and you could tell by the tension of his cock in your hand that his climax was near. The more intensely he grunted and cussed and thrusted his hips, the quicker your tongue ran all over his balls and your hand jerked off his cock.

"I'm g- I'm gonna-" Ross yelled, and you jumped into action. Your head rose up and you put as much of Ross as could possibly fit into your mouth.

Five ropes of thick, citrusy cum fired into the very back of your mouth as Ross fired off every exclamation he knew of. His face, you could see, was redder than the carton of mixed-berry he'd guzzled down earlier. His mouth gaped and his gaze was trained straight onto you, brimming so thoroughly with lust that you wondered how he contained it for as long as he had.

As more ropes shot into your mouth, you felt Ross push your head even further down onto his cock and say your name. A whisper at first, but he repeated louder and louder as his load just kept coming.

You locked eyes with Ross and, even as you began to feel the need for air get to you, you felt like you could be there with him forever, being filled with cum, attraction, and even the slightest hint of love.

Finally, Ross released your head and you pulled away, swallowing all his cum in one gulp, followed by as much air as you could. You coughed a little as Ross sat up across from you on the couch, running his hand through his hair dampened with sweat.

With a still-reddened face, all he could say was your name with a contented smile and look of adoration.

"What?" You teased, keeping your cool in spite of everything. Rather than respond with words, Ross crawled forward and kissed you, pushing you over with his body weight.

You were fully prepared for him to return the favor when you heard a car pulling into the driveway.

"Shit, that's Rocky," He muttered, leaping off of you and searching the floor for his underwear, "I thought he'd be out longer."

Once he found them, Ross scrambled into his underwear and rushed to his room. Obviously, you watched his butt jiggle as he ran away.

"Act normal!" He called as he turned into his room.

Moments later, Rocky walked in through the door, eyes widening as he saw you.

"Hey. Didn't think you'd be over," He said, glancing at Titanic still playing on the TV. "Where's Ross?"

Before you had to make up some lie, Ross reemerged from his room, now in a lavender t-shirt and shorts, smiling casually like nothing happened between you two.

"Sorry, I spilled some juice on myself and had to go change," Ross walked up to his brother and pulled him into a side hug, "How was the dentist?"

"Shitty. I thought I could watch some Golden Girls to relax, but if you guys are busy..."

"No, it's okay," You spoke up, face flushing with heat, "I was just going anyways."

Ross looked surprised, "You were?"

You gulped. You really, really wished you could stay, but everything you wanted to with Ross would be made awkward with the knowledge his brother in the house. Besides, if you stuck around Ross too long, you were certain Rocky would catch on to whatever was happening between you two.

"Yeah, I... gotta get up early tomorrow."

Ross looked disappointed, but walked you out to your car, standing close enough to you that your hands brushed repeatedly.

"I'll see you around," You told Ross, sticking your key in the car.

You turn around to face him, and he pulls you in for a kiss. A quick one, though the way he lingered pulling away told you he wanted more.

"Make it soon, okay?" Ross grinned, checking you out one last time as he turned around, "I owe you some head."

You watched him walk away one last time, the butterflies in your chest running wild as you stepped into you car. Though you couldn't tell what you had just yet, you knew it wasn't ending any time soon.

#ross lynch #ross lynch x reader #fanfiction #smut #fanfic #the driver era #sexy

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fictionaltrvlr · 6 months

Text

Roman Empire this, Roman Empire that. I don’t really think I have a Roman Empire-

The Overwhelming Hatred of Rachel Zegler

This rising star of a 22 year old woman is being torn apart by men and women alike and I’m so tired of it.

I’m disgusted by the amount of hate she’s getting and you best believe I’m gonna lay it out. I’ve tried to organize this but I’m really tired so bear with me.

Main Controversy

Her saying that it’s no longer 1937 and Snow White doesn’t need to be saved by the prince is not her saying that women can’t want to have a husband or a family. Simply that they don’t need a man to give them value.

And to be clear, yes, okay? Yes. Women should be allowed to soft, they can want families, they don’t need to be badass to be happy. They can fit “traditional” roles. Women can want different things. Meg March, the icon that she is, “just because my dreams are different than yours doesn’t mean they’re unimportant.” 100% yes. But Rachel wasn’t saying otherwise.

She said the prince was a bit of a stalker so they’re not doing that this time… and yes? The prince was weird. I thought we agreed on that. Snow White was 14 in the original and got kissed while she was unconscious by an adult man… but sure, ✨iconic✨.

And it’s fine if you don’t like the *apparent* girlbossification of Snow White, but people are acting like Rachel wrote the movie?? Did it ever occur to people that maybe Disney wants the “girlboss independent woman who doesn’t need a man” picture presented?

She’s doing press for the movie, is she maybe taking the direction Disney gave her?? Also… we. haven’t. seen. the. movie. The teaser only just came out!

Strike Comments

Her comments being popularized during the strike is already suspicious enough. Is it not in the studio’s interests to portray the strike and those taking part in it as unreasonable?

Her saying she deserves to be paid fairly for the hours she spends in a dress playing an iconic Disney character is completely valid. She wasn’t saying she’s the most amazing actress ever or that she plays the hardest roles or does the most complicated stunts. Just that she deserves fair pay… like every other striking actor and writer??

Childhood Relationship With The Character

Her saying that Snow White scared her as a child and she didn’t revisit it until she got cast. Why does that matter so much?? There were scary things in that movie! The witch, the poison apple, the forest coming to life and trying to grab her.

Tastes change as we grow and Rachel has shared her excitement about getting to play the character now.

She was a child. *screaming*

The Extremely Different Treatment Men Receive in The Same Situations

May I present, Robert Pattinson?? Mr I hate these books and felt like I shouldn’t be reading them?? Mr Edward is creepy?

He mocked and joked about the Twilight series every chance he got and people ate it up. They loved it and still do. He’s funny, he’s confident, he’s so real for that.

Harrison Ford wanted his character to die off and said it had run its course. He was praised for his humour and honesty.

Oh but Rachel is ungrateful. She’s rude, she’s cringe, she’s mean, she’s annoying. She’s irredeemable, she’s overbearing, she’s smug, off putting. There’s just something about her that we don’t like…

She’s pitted against other successful women, like Halle Bailey. She’s pitted against Kristen Stewart. Against Elle Fanning, Jenna Ortega. Ignoring, may I point out, how hated so many of these women have been at the different points in their careers?

This is how Brie Larson is being treated and now she wants to leave Marvel too.

Women can be sarcastic. They can joke and speak their minds. They don’t have to package every thought with a pretty little bow so it’s palatable to you.

Rachel’s statements are being misinterpreted and twisted. But on top of that, even if she was what people are saying, have we forgotten about Tom Cruise? Leonardo DeCaprio?

These men are insufferable and problematic and yet some of the biggest names in the industry and, again, confident. Boss. In charge. Charismatic. Not annoying, not petty, not “oh you should be grateful you have anything!!”

Let me pull out Taylor Swift for a hot second because she does a wonderful job of describing the different ways we talk about men and women.

A man does something and it’s strategic. A woman does the same thing and it’s calculated. A man is allowed to react, a woman can only overreact. […] A man shares his experience in writing and he’s brave. A woman does the same thing and she’s over sharing, she’s over emotional, watch out!

America Ferrera when she said that the only difference between being bossy and being a boss is that one is a woman.

People need to listen to “All American Bitch” again -

I know my place, I know my place, and this is it! I don't get angry when I'm pissed I'm the eternal optimist I scream inside to deal with it All the time I'm grateful all the time I'm sexy, and I'm kind I'm pretty when I cry Oh, all the time I'm grateful all the time

And not that women need to be grateful because they don’t, but just to be clear, she is grateful.

She has expressed how lucky she was to get Shazam and how much she enjoyed it and made amazing friends. She was excited to play her version of Snow White. She shared pictures of herself as a child dressed as Snow White. She’s thrown herself into it.

Conclusions

Hate trains fun, I get it. But let’s not pile on young women when they’ve not even done anything wrong. Question why all of a sudden everyone hates this person, what are the facts, what else is going on, what confirmation bias do we have?

There is something so much worse to me about seeing other women tear her down. Like yeah, men will be pigs, but what are you doing? It’s so sad.

And women like hunting witches too, doing your dirtiest work for you, it’s obvious that wanting me dead has really brought you two together… (Mad Woman, Taylor Swift)

Rachel seems like such a joyful person and people are out here bullying her like she kicks puppies on the weekends.

Claiming to be a feminist because you want a wide variety of princesses (ie, ones that get saved by their prince), and then sending death threats to another woman for possibly appearing as though she holds a different opinion about one princess - is not only a contradiction, it’s just baffling.

Anyway stan Rachel Zegler

That’s my speech, please do contribute collaboratively if you want :).

#in this essay i will #rachel zegler #feminism #snow white 2024 #taylor swift #misogny #america ferrera #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #lucy gray baird #shazam #text post #raging feminist #all american bitch #mad woman #feminist #west side story 2021 #lyrics #thank you for coming to my ted talk #thoughts on things

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nqmonarch · 3 months

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hihi! I want to say that I really LOVE the way you write Blade <33 and also what do you think about Blade with a reader who was part of the hcq in the past being reincarnated and joining the stellaron hunters in the present timeline but they don't remember anything from their past such as being Yingxing's lover

Yeah! Of course :) Didn't know if you wanted Yandere Blade or normal Blade assuming the former because it's the only Blade, it's not anything hardcore tho, I've written so far but let me know if this doesn't suit you, and I'll try again :)

Warning: High Cloud Quintet Spoilers,

TW: Kidnapping, Yandere

Note: Reader is a vidyadhara (think that makes the most sense in terms of reincarnation)

You knew everyone fairly well but you knew Yingxing the best. The two of you spending evenings next to each other in the same bed and days by each other's side. You weren't much of a fighter but he made you a weapon nonetheless and you carried it everywhere.

You would laugh as you saw Jing Yuan and Yingxing train while Jingliu would make them run laps every time they messed up their stance. You would stare at the skies with Baiheng and speak about worlds you'd only heard of in stories. Dan Feng was the one you knew the least but as everyone else became rowdy the two of you would stand in silence, both of you smiling with equal understanding of each other.

Then Shuhu, an emanator of abundance, attacked and those happy moments drifted off as dandelion seeds in the wind. You focused on evacuating citizens, fighting off mara struck with the knowledge you'd gained from watching Yingxing train. Your eyes were always on his body. Jing Yuan had been with you initially, the two of you had been talking about what to do for Yingxing's birthday. Beneath Jing Yuan's aloof exterior there was still a child, he was young after all.

You weren't sure where everyone else was but you only hoped they'd be okay.

Baiheng died. Dan Feng and Yingxing committed a sin, which would lead to both of them being banished. Jingliu returned but was struggling with mara. Jing Yuan was left to deal with the consequences as you left. You couldn't leave your lover on your own could you?

So you followed the mess that Yingxing was, making sure he never got hurt too much, trying to keep him safe. He didn't look the same, white hair turned to a blueish black and cool gray eyes turned a burning hot red. You still loved him, he didn't remember you, and whenever he did it was followed by a bout of pain. Part of you didn't want him to remember, if it was that terrible.

For the majority of the time you stayed by his side he was in and out of it, struggling to even move at points. You weren't around to see when he was able to fight time and again, when he went and hunted after Dan Heng, and how every time he was slain he came back stronger anew.

You had to leave, otherwise you likely would've died. You did it while he slept, otherwise he would've realized and maybe you would've felt too guilty to leave. But you had to go through the rebirth process. You left behind a journal for yourself to read and so you would go back to Yingxing but you never got the chance. After all if anyone else read it, why would they want a Vidyadhara leaving and risking their life, when population numbers already dwindled? Especially if they were risking their life for someone who almost ruined everything.

You were told you took a hundred extra years to hatch. You learned everything anew, deciding to pick up a weapon, it felt comfortable in your hands. Sometimes you'd dream of fighting mara struck off with it, sometimes the weapon was idly by your side as you felt joy course through dream you's body as you spoke to a friendly white haired male.

The thing was throughout a hundred years of living you'd never found a reason to live. The only thing you longed for were your dreams. You'd heard of a land called Penacony, where you could live in your dreams, and you'd smuggled your way in but it wasn't what you thought. You wanted to live in your memories, not some idealistic world. So you wandered planet from planet in search of something, anything. Your only purpose became finding a reason to live.

Everything changed when a woman called Kafka recruited you, she was all smiles and charm, and promised you the thing you were looking for. You'd been skeptical and challenged her but when she elaborated that you'd be able to live within your memories, you decided to join her. Whether Elio's plan worked out or not mattered naught to you, so long as you were able to live in your memories again.

Your dreams got fuzzier harder to reach with time, as if your past life was slipping away from you. This wasn't supposed to happen. But things improved slightly when a man with long navy blue hair eagerly joined the Stellaron Hunters. He looked at you with a strange longing gaze, it was honestly rather pathetic. Pathetic looked good on him though, well he looked good in general.

"Blade," Your voice held no extra emotion to it as he walked over to you, he felt strangely familiar, as if existing by his side wouldn't be that bad.

So you hung around him often, you weren't sure why he hung around you but he didn't speak much to you. It wasn't that there was nothing to say but too much to say, to the point he couldn't say anything. Instead he often clung onto you like you were his lifeline, in bouts of mara, his grip hurt but it wasn't the worst pain you'd experienced. Being a Stellaron Hunter meant you'd faced your fair share of fights. Now that Blade was here, you got hurt less and less, he'd tank blows for you and annihilate whoever you were against. There were always large stains of blood left in the place of your battles but you never got dirty.

You wondered what he would do if you died, go insane? From the little sanity he had left, "What would you do if I died?" You asked a slight smile on your face before returning to your usual silence.

You didn't have a moment to speak before you felt your back crash against the cold, hard floor knocking the air out of you. Normally you'd be able to keep up with Blade while sparring, although you doubted he had the heart to go all out against you. Now he gripped your biceps with no regard for your feelings, yet, it only lasted a few seconds as he loosened his hold to remove the pain yet keep you still. His knees rested next to your hips, and you could feel the heat of his skin through your clothes.

"...You don't like that question?" You spoke with a grin on your face, was he really so attached to you?

Hot red eyes glared at you, as if you'd just committed a sin, "No. You... don't understand anything now. You... you've done far more than you should've." He forced himself to let go of your arms, standing up and walking away as stiff as a board. It was as if the very process was agonizing.

You stared at his back in puzzlement, "...Blade did you know me?"

He didn't answer.

Which led to your turn to chase Blade, always a step behind. When you weren't following him, you knew he was nearby, somewhere you couldn't see him. You could feel his gaze rest on your head, it felt very unique. You'd beg Blade for any clue about your past but he would remain quiet, as if ignoring you. He'd still step into all of your fights, blade itching to be used.

You only made progress on the mission where you'd been ordered to go to the Xianzhou Luofu, as someone who'd been raised there you happily snuck along even if it wasn't your mission. You were sure Elio knew anyway. Blade was on his own mission and for once you were alone. On the Luofu you met a man that gave you the same familiar feeling as Blade, a young fellow by the name of Dan Heng. He didn't recognize you at all though, so you assumed you didn't know him. He was the only one to catch a glimpse of your face without your cloak.

You traveled with him, Luocha, and Sushang for fun before dashing off to the streets, cloak covering any distinguishable part of your body, to buy some snacks. You ran into a short dragon girl, who felt somewhat familiar, but you doubted you knew her too. But then there was the general of the Luofu, a well spoken man, who put on the appearance of a slacker.

Did he sleep because he could no longer stand life? He felt familiar as well but you also empathized with him and that was why you went up to talk him. Putting on the act of a fortune teller, you saw a hint of recognition when he heard your voice. He agreed to let his fortune be read, and you did so staring at him for any other hint of your past. He looked at you very sorrowfully.

You weren't sure what compelled you to say it but you shared some thoughts with him, "I sleep a lot too," you suddenly remarked, uncaring that it gave away you having watched over him for a while, "Less now. But in the past the only place I could live was my dreams, memories of my past life. I yearn for them, dearly."

The general looked at you his smile waning, "Then perhaps one day we can discuss them." So he did know you. Who... exactly were you in the past? How did you find so much happiness, in the simplest things? How could you do that now?

But the two of you were never able to discuss that as the final act of Blade and Kafka's plan came into fruition you found yourself between a mournful Jing Yuan and Blade, who'd reappeared. You didn't mind Blade's company, he just got in the way sometimes.

Especially when he was holding the blade of his sword to the only person who'd been willing to help you recover your past. Jing Yuan didn't put up a fight, it was rather strange, instead he spoke in a wistful tone, "The two of you found each other again." Perhaps you'd been closer to Blade in your past life than you thought.

You'd unceremoniously been brought back to the ship the Stellaron Hunters were currently using. It was not by choice. Blade held you in his arms as you kicked and bit and scratched. He didn't mind in the slightest. He may have even liked it which dissuaded you a bit from continuing. You didn't scream, he'd probably kill any bystanders who cared anyway.

It was annoying. Even once you were back on the ship he was always by your side, literally. One part of his body had to be touching yours at all times, otherwise he'd begin to panic.

"...Tell me about my past." You demanded, glaring at him, concerningly more upset over this matter than him kidnapping you and his constant clinginess.

"Of six people, three must pay the price... why did you waste your time caring for someone like me? You love me..." then in a pitiful voice, seeking for confirmation he asked, "right?"

You looked at the mess of the man before you, had you loved him in your previous life? If so, then wasn't he part of your happiness... So you'd have to learn to love him again, "Right," You lied with a smile, resting a hand on his back as he embraced you burying his face in your neck.

The moment Blade couldn't see your face the smile dropped from it.

Imo Blade would hide his own sinful past and actions from the reader and not want them to have to embark down the road of pain, since he knows how terrible it is.

Reader is also lowkey a two faced person, don't know how much you guys noticed, but they put on one of those facades but inside they're like i'm dying inside yay... ._. i like two faced characters :) they're so fun to read in stories, haven't really written one before though

I honestly think reader is more unhealthy than Blade like yeah he's kind of obsessed with you but at the same time reader just concerning like highly fucking concerning. Did not mean for reader to be so concerning just happened.

Anyway as much as I love like that I waited 800 years for you troupe! I'm not a big fan of it, personally, with Blade's character just because he's a very big red flag for a relationship even as a non yandere. Being in love with someone from the past can turn out good but I feel like with Blade it would turn out so horribly and he would just see a memory as opposed to the past, present, and future of the reader.

I like the idea of him falling in love with someone while he's Blade because Blade feels like a very different person from Yingxing.

That being said the idea of reincarnated lovers always has its own kind of charm :)

#TW Yandere #reader insert #hsr #hsr x reader #gn reader #blade x reader #yandere blade #yandere blade x reader

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