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stupidlovergirl · 26 days

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"Ugh! So Cliche!" Feat Lucifer and Mammon Word count - 1.5k Dev Notes: Every day I grapple with the fact I'm such a bad poster, oof. Anyways, here's Wonderwall

Lucifer, Enemies To Lovers

Really, you don't know why you're here, all things considered. It was Mammon who had the idea, and he dragged you along with it. You were an innocent bystander, really! So how come YOU have to clean up the hallway after Mammon spilled five gallons of paint down the hallway.

Scrubbing the floor, the light above you is blocked, and the eye roll you give could make history with the exasperation it has, and you look up, expecting your partner in crime to have another bright idea. Yet, when you look up, it is Lucifer, looking down at you with a slight glare. You have to bite your tongue at the want to groan.

“Are you almost finished?” He drones out, and you just look back at the floor, scrubbing at the neon yellow paint.

“What does it look like?”

Thankfully, you were basically done, you were on the last spot, but you’d probably be done sooner, if the marvelous self-proclaimed “Smartest Demon Ever” didn’t run off with his next scheme. Honestly, you just hope he hasn’t got himself caught up in something you can’t save him from. The thoughts of how Mammon’s going to get caught running that “lucky” key chain thing was going to blow up, a thoughtful hum from the first born catches your attention.

“Where is Mammon?” he asks, sounding upset

“I told him he could leave, the cleaner was hurting his hands” that was a lie, it was making yours dry out more than his, but hey, you didn’t want him to get in more trouble than he was in, so you might as well. Another thoughtful hum from Lucifer above you as you finish up on the last spot, dropping the scrubber into the dirty water bucket.

“Good work” is all the first born says, and walks away, footsteps echoing down the hall. What a dick.

This time, it happened with the Anti-Lucifer League. You stand between Belphegor and Satan, looking at Lucifer as he drones on about how “Glitter bombs are prohibited” and that “glitter is already hard to get out, so I can’t fathom why you’d rig my dresser drawers”. Honestly, you're upset with the camera that was set to catch his reaction to it and the fact that it malfunctioned.

“And you” Lucifer cuts through your mind, leveling his gaze at you. “You’re tasked with cleaning and vacuuming out my dresser drawers” You bite your tongue and don’t roll your eyes, no matter how much you want to, and nod. After he sends you all away, you groan loudly, which makes Belphie snicker and Satan smile, before you set off on your tasks.

In the end, if someone said glitter was a torture device made in the Devildom, you’d believe it. This is the third time you’ve had to clean Lucifer’s dresser this week, pulling out the dresser and dumping out the clothes on his bed, and using a cloth to catch some of it. You’re working hard, so when the door opens, it goes unnoticed. It’s only when you feel the warmth of Lucifer’s hand on your back that you realize he’s in the room.

“Yes?” you ask, looking up at him in irritation.

“I need you to move,” he asks, and you scoot away from the bed. He rummages through the clothes on the bed, and gets a pair of socks, and slips them off. You watch him out of the corner of your eye, and it makes you surprised. Lucifer wears sock garters. Oh my god, that’s…honestly kind of hot. You cast your eyes down, cleaning the drawer with more vigor, focusing hard on it to ignore the beating of your heart in your chest. For the second time, Lucifer startles you, this time with two quick pats on one shoulder and his head by your ear

“Good work” he says, voice deep and rumbling, before walking off

Oh. Fuck.

Mammon, Fake Dating

When you woke up this morning, it was the loud rapping against your bedroom door, which was swung open and revealed to be Mammon. Who came chattering about a “couple’s discount” at some where they were selling something he really wanted. You don’t remember much, other than him yanking you out of bed and grabbing some clothes out of your closet and throwing them at you and leaving. It all happened extremely fast, and you were dressed and being pulled out the door, with him rattling out things about how to be a good partner.

“Also, you should probably pick a pet name, I’m letting you choose between babe, darling, and love of my life” he says, that cocky grin on his face as he pulls you in closer, throwing his arm over your shoulders.

“I’ll pass,” you reply, yawning slightly as you walk with him. Really, it’s not much different between your average walks, Mammon always has been kinda touchy, so it’s pretty natural, so once you reach the…you think it’s a fancy jewelry store? It was pretty natural. You walk in, and yeah, there are a lot of couples.

“What are you getting again?”

At your simple question, Mammon groans loudly. “There is this new matching set of watches, and I really want one, and it was said that if you come with a partner you’d get a discount.

“Cool, does that mean I’ll get one too?” you ask, elbowing him in the ribs

“Ughh, I GUESS you can have the other one” he says, though there is a slight smile on his face. As you walk towards the counter, the worker at the bar steps up, and Mammon easily greets them, talking with ease. You look down to the sparkly gems inlaid in metal decors, eyeing them. “I’ll get you that right away!” the worker says, as they walk off.

“This one is really pretty” you say, pointing to a necklace in front of you two. It sparkles behind the glass, enticing people to look at it.

“You want it?” Mammon asks, and your head whips up to look at him, gaping. His head turns immediately as yours does, hiding his face from you. “Are…are you sure?” you ask, voice quiet.

“Yeah, I just got paid and it’s pretty cheap '' Well, that you know is a lie, you can see the price tag right in front of you, but it was sweet to say anyway.

“Nah, it’s fine, I don’t really wear jewelry a whole lot” you say. Soon enough, the sales attendant returns, and Mammon buys the watches and for show he puts it on your wrist. You gasp, awwing at it as he slips his on. He pays with ease, and the two of you walk out.

Which, you think, leads to the problem you’re facing right now. “Mammon! I can’t believe you didn’t read about this!” you say, trying to pry the watch off your wrist as you glare at him.

“How was I supposed to know they were enchanted!” He groans, his own hands trying to yank it off your wrist also. The two of you fight at it, but give up before searching on the internet.

“It says you’re supposed to admit something important” you say, huffing as you look at the details on the website. You sigh, turning off your D.D.D. “Apparently, they were made in some form of couple’s therapy”

“How lame” Mammon replies, picking at the food in his bowl. “Well, what do you have to say?” he says, taking a bite of his noodles.

“It was me who broke your model car and blamed it on Levi” you say, smiling sheepishly as he looks at you in horror.

“I can’t believe you!” he says, placing his hand on his chest

“I panicked!” you reply, laughing awkwardly, trying to take the watch off. You frown, the watch not budging.

“Didn’t work”

“Damn” he replies, frowning.

“I was the one who sold your ring Asmo bought you”

“I thought I lost that!” you say, upset

“I scratched your car on purpose when I was mad at you for blaming that candle incident on me” you say, rubbing your arm slightly

“I used you as an alibi because I was out gambling last night” Mammon replies, scratching his head

“I ate your last slice of cake and lied”

“I told you that top you bought recently looked good on you and it kinda didn’t but you liked it so much I felt bad saying so”

“I gave away that set of hair clips you got me to Asmo”

“I have liked you romantically for a while, but telling you scared me" Mammon says, hiding his face in his hands. You gape, and feel the watch slide off your wrist, and you feel floaty, looking at him.

“You do?” you reach across the table pulling his hands away from his face.

“Yeah” he replies, face red and eyes frightened

“I’ve liked you for a while too” you reply, pulling his hands towards you and kissing the knuckles.

Mammon blinks, a slow smile spreading across.

“Of course! Who wouldn’t love the Great Mammon!” he prattles on, and all you can do is laugh.

#obey me x reader #obswd x reader #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #obey me x you #obswd x you #lucifer x you #mammon x you

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justcallmesakira · 13 days

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BESTIE IF U DONT DO THIS REQ N I WILL FACKING EAT UR MUTUALS

DAZAI WITH A SISTER DAZAI WITH A SISTER DAZAI WITH A SISTER!!

she has black cat energy and err makes suicidal jokes here and then but never does t and chuuyas always the one who pulls her away from dazais tendencies because he DOES NOT want reader to follow dazais steps and err dazai and reader have a 2 year gap and err basically dazai took her away with him when he left and thats were she sort of stopped talking BECAUSE BOOM CHIKA BOOM ODAS DEATH LEFT HER MORE TRAUAMATIZED THAN THE KIDS ASAGIRI BLEW UP!!! so errr crack and chuuya and reader is ummmm AHEM AHEM AHEM (cough coug)

AND BASICALLY MORI HAS THIS like obsession of bringing reader back to the mafia like he constantly says stuff like "Dazai, my offer still stands but please remember that i would really really love to see your dear sister back first" LIKE YKNOW WHAT I AM SAYING???????????

DAZAI AND HIS YOUNGER SISTER!

Sypnosis: you are the younger sister of Da-dazai! Is he a great brother or not? UPPP TO YOU! >< oh and maybe hide your secret vists with chuuya please!!

Genre: crack and heavy angst! (dont question it)

Warnings: suicidal themes! cans of gasoline, glitter bombs, reader is very quiet type, manipulation (for good use!)

A/N: yummy yummy

uh oh! this is gonna be so damn messy

so um first of all! i really think reader would be very intelligent like dazai like oh fuck! i just got under a whole rubble of rocks by some guy who btw is the enemy of my brother quick! think of something

and then theres this bsd aesthetic plan you make and just survive! to the shock of your horror... :D

okay but in all seriousness! he defiently jokingly gave you his suicide guide to if u ever felt inspired by him

VERY VERY NORMAL BROTHER ACTIVITY!!1

dazai stop influencing people around you to plug off them self challenge impossible: GO!!

if you do however join his meticulous activites kunikidas actually going to blow up

😇

but imagine how cute it would be a black cat energy young sis and a golden retriver brother like bish forget romantic relationships like dazai who sometimes forget he left his sister at work!

but ynkow mf dazai always wants to keep close to you because he was never really there (like my fake as friends🙄) back in the mafia! woohoo

so now you can asks him for whatever you want but now he actually feels guilty because you have now become the silent type and dont really talk that much

Great job dazai! best brother everr!❤️

Imagine running away from the mafia with ur lil sister then realising she doesnt even want to talk anymore and that you might actually failed as a big brother even after buying her a whole lotta stuff

COULDNT BE OSAMU DAZAI GUYS!!!

tell him to take you to an amusement park and he will! but dont be surprised if you see him trying to run to jump off a bridge because he does not have for the sake of god any money!

AYY dazai cosplaying toji to get milk? real or fake??? find out here!

dont click on the link :3

ANYWAYS he definetly tries his best to get you back to talking sure the only thing he could do is talk to himself with you beside him doodling some stuff but yknow...it genuinely makes him form a sad smile when he gets reminded that maybe if he were a better brother and actually comforted you it would have ended better

"I saw a cat today yknow! it had a black eye and orange patterns. Somehow it looked wise" dazai said relazing on the chair, his hands behind his head, the whole night of yokohama was quiet only the flicker of the dim light placed underneath the balcony ceiling could be heard.

The night was calm too, it had a soft storm-like feel to it. Dazai knew you were listening thats probably why he would talk to you all these months, no one else was there for him anyway. So its better than nothing.

All of a sudden amdist the silence several pokes tapped on his shoulder which made his eyes widen slightly. You held up your sktechbook infront of his face, a bunch of doodles of him and a full sketch of his side profile

"(Name)... This is amazing! Wow you could be a talented artist yknow!!" he said you didnt know whether he was just flattering you or not because of the emptiness in his eyes. Depression changes a person. But the slight flicker of light in his made it visible to your loud mind. Dazai was glad you made some progress.

Okay now hb your interactions with da agency??

I am pretty sure both you and him joined da agency together (gotta make sure his sister ACTUALLY doesn`t follow his steps!😋😋😋😋)

kunikida may act all cold around you and view u as some kid especially when you randomly make the most random ass suicidal jokes in the middle of a meeting but...

Lets say he sort of checks up on both of you every morning! cant let the dogs out now kunikida! you never know what they do....

iykwimyk

now yosano girlypop is the only person who shows genuine concern for you when you get hurt why? because she was bamboozled when she found out you are dazais sibling like

"huh- are you actually capable of being a brother? more so having family"

dazai be at the corner weeping because of the amount of slander

DESERVEDDDD😍😍😍

I can totally see fukuzawa patting both of you and dazais head after you two collaborated on a mission

IDWGDHYWDFYUDFILOVEFATHERRELATIONSHIPS

he prob randomly call you for tea i mean not too randomly but he likes your black cat energy

speaking of which ranpo and you bully da heck out of criminals before they ultimately mistake you for some god!! /nj

kenji and kyouka just chills around you and tries debating what you and dazai have in common.

belonging in the mental asylum. thats whats common between you two/nj again😁😁

With chuuya

NAWWWWH BRO NAWW☠️

Chuuyas gonna end upl like this emoji☠️☠️☠️

Okay maybe i am over exaggerating this but yknow dazai is like really smart

UNFORTUNATELY!!!

So he will definitely know when ever you two act a little🤭😝😘🤗😍🥰👍

Hes going to get tjat expression from chapter 114 and chew chuuyas expensive tuxedo!!

I bet after he finds out hes straight up going to give chuuya a flashback of stormbringer era!! 😍😁

#verynormalbrother

"W-w-w-what da SKIBIDI [name]??? YOU WILL NOT AND NEVER MEET CHUUYA AGAIN" "wow... and i thought you were trying to become a better brother :(" "YOUNG LA- i-" ":("

He was about to say lad

like manipulative ass brother like sister ig! :33333333

He prob had suspicions back in the mafia especially because of how you mostly stuck around chuuya when he wasnt there

YOUR FAULT BRO!!!

And then u rizzed chuuya up with double black eyes (get it?)

"You know [name] it still hurt me, though i promised i would never say it infront of your face but.." Chuuya said seriousness in his tone looking at you eyes "But please stop looking at me with those cat like eyes they deeply remind of someone and I DO NOT like it"

He ended this funny note with a genuine fear and irritation in his eyes. you only nodded and continued to stare at him, your eyes rivaling a black hole not that hole by the way.

A tingling feeling gathered in himself as chuuya looks at your blank stare "Dont look at me like that!" he raised his flustered voice, a small hue of pink appearing on his cheek which only grew as you held on to his sleeve, snuggling against it like a cat.

But before he could be more flushed a really dark aura crept up behind you and then, right then you knew you fucked up bad.

"i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-cant believe this!" your brothers voice perked up behind you genuine horror on his face as if he just saw his bestfriend die infront of him twice.

"Oh my fucki-" chuuya sighed, both of you are caught. "[name] ICANTBELIEVETHISOMGIAMGOINGTOENDMYSELFLIKEMYOTHERVERSIONFROMANOTHERUNIVERSEWHOLOWEREDYOURSTANDERDSICANTBELIEVETHISHIT" dazai rapped at super speed, an anger and shock unwordable enough for you to be confused at whatever hes yapping about. "DAZAI what the fuck??" now chuuya was confused too.

"ANDYOU, HERMANADAPUTA (sisterfucker in english) YOUUGLYSHORTMFWITHNOFLAGSNONOTHING,YOUTRUSTISSUED?IWILLGIVEYOUPRISONFORLIFEISSUES" "WHAT IS YOU BROTHER YAPPING ABOUT?"

And all you could do was watch in horror as the scene unfolds infront of you. But safe to say you got in big trouble when you went back home!

anyways dazais going to go full on 8 cans of gasoline on the portmafia if more is obsessed with you like him

and then you realised..

"fOr tHe fIrSt TiMe iN fOrEVer" he actually did/nj

Okay okay but in all seriousness (litearlly @justcallmesakira catchphrase guys!!) Dazai would genuinely become more protective of you if mori was targeting towards you.

i would run away to antarctica too if mori even tried interacting with me

SHES A RUNNER SHES A TRACKSTAR!!!!!🏃💨

But if you are intelligent then i guess you met fyodor too? And maybe some sort of rivalry goes on between you two like "oh its my brothers enemy, gotta help my bro blow him up!"

I have nothing much to say because dazai would make secret plans (which you alrdy know) to make sure mori doesnt get too close with you

Like oh he was planning to approach you that day? BOOM dazai is already there. Yeah like that

If mori says that however... Dazai will reply with a dark eyed gloom,tilting his head back creepily "You will have to need more then the whole of port mafia to interact with my sister"

Dazai hates mori alot and though he knows that you are old enough to handle situations that doesnt mean he wont care for his only sister. You are the only thing left that he can protect without feeling inhumanity or faraway.

A/N: HATE THISSSS NOOOUUU

Tags: @inojuuy @biscuits-spooky-corner @terururuko @little-miss-chaoss @saelique @silverbladexyz @typcallysid14 @nezuko-kamado-cute-demon

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misc-obeyme · 7 months

Note

Hello again CC! I’m back with Mammons Flufftober request

May I request the prompt “stay with me” Fluffy one bed trope/falling asleep together 🥰 I hope that’s okay

Ty! 💕

Hi, Silver!!

Ahh I loved this prompt, it ended up so soft and fluffy! I truly enjoyed writing it!

Thank you for submitting a prompt!!

FLUFFTOBER 2023

GN!MC x Mammon

Warnings: none! uhhh unless you count sharing a bed as needing a warning?

You really shouldn't have been surprised. It wasn't like this was the first time your room had been destroyed to the point where you could no longer use it. Last time, it had been Beel destroying the kitchen. This time, Asmo had given you a bath bomb that turned out to be a literal bomb. Needless to say, your room was now an explosion of glitter and soap.

The result of this was that you needed a different place to sleep. Every single demon brother had been willing to give up their beds for you. It had devolved into an argument rather quickly and in the end, you grabbed an extra blanket and pillow and stormed off. You didn't tell them where you were going, but you did have a location in mind.

Later on that evening, you were still awake when you heard Mammon enter his room. You heard the sharp intake of breath when he realized that you had chosen to sleep on his couch. You were pretending to be asleep, keeping your eyes shut as you heard him move quietly around the room. He seemed to believe that you were sleeping because he was careful not to make any noise.

Eventually he came over to you, kneeling down to look at your face. You tried to act like you didn't know he was there, like you were still slumbering peacefully.

But it was cold. You had grabbed a blanket, sure, but it wasn't enough. You had known that the minute you got there and settled on the couch. You could feel the chill creeping in and now you had been there long enough that you couldn't fight it off anymore.

You shivered.

Mammon sighed. "Shoulda told me ya wanted to sleep here," he whispered, clearly more to himself than you. "Coulda told ya one blanket ain't enough."

You considered opening your eyes, letting him know that you weren't actually asleep. Before you could, you felt him moving again. And then his arm was around your shoulders, the other one under your legs, and he was carrying you, blanket and all, to his bed.

Mammon put you down carefully, tucking all his own blankets around you.

There was a stillness then, as though he was standing at the edge of the bed, looking at you.

You couldn't take it anymore and opened your eyes, but just as you did so, he turned away.

Mammon was clearly ready for bed. He had put on some pajama pants, likely because you were already in his room, but his torso was bare.

You caught his hand just before he stepped away from the bed, on his way to take your place on the couch.

Mammon froze, looking back at you over his shoulder, a blush and surprise spilled across his face.

You looked up at him from the bed and felt the heat rise in your own cheeks. "Stay with me."

Mammon turned back to you. "MC… are ya sure?"

You squeezed his hand and tugged him a little closer to the bed.

Mammon blushed, but he got into the bed beside you. He kept hold of your hand, but he didn't get too close.

You snuggled into him, pressing your face against his bare chest, wrapping an arm around him.

As if this was all he needed, Mammon pulled you close, pressing you into himself, your legs tangling together.

"Why do you keep it so cold in here, anyway?" you mumbled into his skin.

"I don't do it on purpose!" Mammon protested, though he kept his voice quiet. "It's just like that. Ya know, 'cause…"

"'Cause you live in a garage?" you asked, laughing a little.

Mammon let go of your hand so he could tilt your face up to look at him. "Ain't a problem when you're here."

Mammon kissed your head, then your eyelids, and finally your lips. They were soft, sweet kisses and you found you couldn't even remember what you had been upset about before. Already this demon in your arms filled you with a comfort and contentment that made you feel like you would sleep easier tonight than you did alone in your own bed.

You settled your head back against his chest and breathed deeply. You listened to the steady beat of his heart - slowing down as he grew drowzy, instead of thudding rapidly at the fact that you were so close.

You had noticed the way Mammon steadied himself when he held you in his arms. A protective sort of shift in his movements and body language. It was subtle, but here in the darkness of his room, there was no question how he felt about you.

And that sweetness, that unwavering love, surrounded you so completely, filling you with an ease that allowed you to drift asleep in no time at all. Just before you dropped off into dreams, you sensed the way your breaths had synced with his. It was a quiet indication of the comfort your presence brought him.

The next morning, you would sleepily see that comfort in his eyes and neither of you would need to say that you had only pleasant dreams.

flufftober | kinktober | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

taglist: @anxious-chick @t0tallycoolname @libidinous-weeb

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me flufftober #obey me fluff #obey me mammon #om mammon #mammon obey me #obey me mammon x reader #om mammon x reader #mammon obey me x reader #obey me mammon x mc #om mammon x mc #mammon obey me x mc #misc flufftober 2023 #misc writes

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multi-fandom-imagine · 6 months

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Day 22: Ripped stockings

Fandom: Baldurs Gate 3

Character: Gale Dekarios

Warnings: praising, teasing, p in v, semi-public sex

A/n: Writing for the best boy on my B-day

Gale was happy to move to Waterdeep with you, you were his fiancé after all though honestly the man was just happy that he can live a normal life with you. No more time bomb, no more Mystra and no more of those nasty little parasites. Just you, him, Tera, Scratch and the Owlbear.

Life was perfect and since life was perfect, Gale couldn’t help but want to take you out for a romantic date.

You deserved it after all.

So here he was, standing by the door. Waiting for you to slip out of the room. You had wanted to surprise him, something about a gift from Shadowheart. Hearing the door creak open, the man straightened his body though his heart nearly stopped and suddenly he was a teenager again.

The skirt you wore was short, far to short for something you used to wear just barley covering your ass and the low neckline of the shirt. To him you looked like a goddess. The dress seemed to shimmer whenever you took a step, you looked like you belonged to be persevered in a panting, the stars but the one thing that drew his eyes the most were the stockings you were.

Tiny little crystal’s woven in the fabric like glittering gold. It seemed it hug your curves in the right places and he was finding it that he was having a little trouble finding it hard to breath.

He felt like you were doing this on purpose, in fact he new you were doing it on purpose judging by that little smirk on your face. “Ready to head out.”

“I.” Doing his best to it stutter out a response the man only nodded as he he grasped your hand giving it a squeeze. “Yes…yes I am ready to leave.”

Pulling him along, you were eager to go you though you also couldn’t wait to see just how far you could push your lover.

Gale felt far to hot, his palms felt far too sweaty and why on earth did you have bend over. Why did your ass have it look so good in those stockings. Gritting his teeth he felt his control slowly slipping. His eyes zooming in on a small tear in the stockings.

“Enough is enough.”

Smoothing out the dress, you titled your head to the side. A small smile forming on your lips, your eyes glinting with mischief. “Hmm?”

Giving a quick look around, Gale was happy to see the people far to absorbed in their own things to notice him. “You’ll find out soon enough my dear.” He grasped your wrist tugging you in a nearby alleyway, his hands on your hips pressing you against the stone wall.

“I’m surprised you lasted this long.” You teased as your fingers ran across the bulge in his pants though a gasp tore through your lips as the lips ripped your stockings. “Gale!”

“Now you look far to appetizing.” He whispered against your neck as his fingers teased your slit until he slowly slipped into your warmth.

Grunting, Gale grasped your hips keeping you pressed to the wall. His face pressed into your neck, teeth grazing the skin. The thrusts were slow, teasing , deliberate.

Your head pressed against the wall, your nails digging into his shoulders as you begged the man to go faster. You did your best of march his thrusts, your legs righting around his waist. Your cries covered by Gales lips, his tongue slowly moving against your own.

He let his hands clutch the fabric of your stockings as he slipped his cock in and out of your pussy. A shudder gliding down his spine feeling your walls clench tightly around his cock.

Biting your lip, you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge. A smile forming on your lips as you dig your heels into his back. You were going it have to wear stockings around him more often.

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indianamgc11 · 1 month

Note

Ethan x Reader with the prompt “I like my shirt on you” it could be where Tara asked the group to meet at the apartment and reader arrives in Ethan’s clothes

better in my eyes

summary: the group needs to discuss the recent events, and you want more comfortable clothed to wear.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: f!reader, scream vi spoilers, mentions of murder and blood, murder of friends, cussing, mentions of death of loved ones, lmk if I missed any :)

a/n: surprise I’m alive :) I kinda hate this tbh but still wanted to post it, also working on multiple other pieces that I’m excited for. Requests are open :)

did not proofread!!

You had changed out of your costume from the Halloween party, not wanting to look like a walking discoball with all the glitter everywhere. Tara had gone back to the apartment, still furious at Sam’s interference at the party. You had gone back with Ethan to his and Chad’s apartment, wanting to give Tara a bit of space.

You both walk in and go to his room, Ethan taking off his cardboard costume and tossing to the corner for the trash later. Ethan’s room was fairly simplistic, mainly consisting of textbooks on his desk and a few posters on the walls.

You stood on the rug by his bed, playing with your fingernails and looking around the room you’ve been in many times before. You notice how the bed is neatly made, nearly no creases in the sheets, how the nightstand doesn’t have much dust on it.

He looks back at you, standing by his closet. He raises an eyebrow.

“You alright?” He smiles, turning to face you.

“Yeah, just don’t wanna make it look like a glitter bomb went off in here, well, even more than it already does.” You say and glance down at the now shiny rug below your feet,

You hear him laugh across the room and the sound of the closet door opening, looking up to see him scanning through his clothes. He eventually grabs a shirt and looks over at you, waiting for a silent look of approval.

“I do have clothes here that I can just wear, Eth” you say pointing to the second drawer in his dresser.

He begins to intercept, but you beat him to it.

“But I won’t say no to wearing your clothes.”

You tilt your head a bit and smile, and he grins back. He laughs, coming closer to you and you notice how close his face is.

“I’m glad you enjoy wearing them.”

He says with a smirk. You glance at his shirt you have on and back to him. The goofy grin across his face is infectious, your smile mirroring his as he holds up a light blue oversized t-shirt, offering it to you.

"Think this will be alright?" he asks.

“Perfect.” You reply.

"Good." He slips the shirt over your head, and it falls down your body perfectly, the fabric hugging your petite frame.

“I like my shirt on you, looks cute.” He said as he smirked.

The blue fabric is in stark contrast to your golden-tanned skin, and you look absolutely stunning when the shirt falls just below your waist. Not to mention that it brought out the gorgeous curves of your body.

“Hey, my eyes are up here.” You say as you snap next to his ear and laugh.

"Not my fault you look pretty in it." He chuckles and looks down at you, raising an eyebrow playfully. You grin at Ethan, and he gives you a knowing look, his arms wrapping around your tiny frame, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Come on, we’ve gotta head to Tara’s or she’s gonna freak thinking we’ve been killed.” You laugh and look up at him.

“Fine, fine." He reluctantly lets you go. He grins and then walks over to the door, gesturing for you to follow, his hand outstretched towards you.

You two arrive at Tara’s apartment, knocking a few times before walking in. You see Mindy accompanied by Anika laying on the couch, Quinn on the other end of the sofa, and Chad leaning against the wall, facing the group, also hearing Sam and Tara arguing in the kitchen about the event of the party and their opposing opinions. Ethan sits in the armchair across from the couch, and you sit on the arm of it. He gives you a look, questioning why you’re not sitting with him. You glance back at Ethan, who is giving you a confused look, curious as to why you chose to sit on the arm instead.

"You want to come here?" Ethan whispers. He gestures to the spot next to him, and you take a seat, Ethan gently wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer to him.

“Settle down, love birds,” Mindy says as she notices your new location.

“Don’t you have your own clothes, kid?”

She also adds, noticing the larger shirt you’re wearing.

“I'll have you know, I do." You respond jokingly, "I just thought that this looked a bit better on me." Ethan chuckles softly at your response as Sam responds to Tara.

Your eyes flick towards the kitchen briefly, the argument getting louder from the kitchen, the tension between the two of them palpable even from the other room. Sam yells something, and then Tara responds, her voice dripping with vitriol.

As soon as Tara and Sam walk into the living room, Sam notices that you two are watching the news about Ghostface's victims, recognizing the names said by the reporter. Then Sam’s phone rang.

“Why did everyone just freak out when her phone rang?” Ethan says giving you a confused look.

“It’s a whole thing” you say with a slight sigh.

"It's a whole thing?" Ethan asks, his confusion increasing with each word that you say. "Can you...explain it to me later?" He adds, wondering what type of whole thing the phone call had caused.

You nod, accompanied with another sigh as one of your hands goes through his hair. Quinn had called her dad, the head sheriff of the NYPD, who now wanted to talk to Sam. You looked down at your fingernails, drifting off in your own mind about another possible ghostface arising. The last one left you pretty scarred, both physically and mentally, losing some people you’ve known for years, like Wes, Amber, Dewey.

As you look back up at Ethan, noticing his eyes wandering, you can't help but smirk.

“Looking at something?" You say playfully, and Ethan is caught off guard, turning away and clearing the nervous look off his face.

“Hm?" Ethan grins sheepishly, turning back to face you, his eyes once again falling to your smooth curves that were accentuated with his shirt. That look on his face makes you smile, knowing that he loves when you wears his clothes, one of the many ways you two express your feelings for one another.

“Eyes up, buddy” You tease, and he lets out a quiet laugh.

Sam and Tara end up leaving, Detective Bailey needing them down at the police station. The rest of the group looks around, all secretly having a slight worry for what this case is going to bring. Chad takes on the situation, attempting to lighten the mood.

“How about a movie, huh? A nice comedy?”

He says reaching for the remote. You all silently agree, turning your attention to the screen. As you watch the opening scene, you feel Ethan’s hand creep up your abdomen. You look to his hand and then his face, seeing a playful smirk evident. You put your hand over his, lightly squeezing it, which was your silent way of saying “I love you.” You kissed his cheek before putting your attention back on the film. You both have a smile on your face, enjoying the moment with your friends without worrying about a ghostface to watch for at that moment.

#ethan landry x female reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry scream #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #scream vi #ghostface #jack champion x y/n #jack champion x reader #jack champion

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archivistofnerddom · 2 months

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The Bad Batch and Omega’s graduation

‘Cuz, well, why not?

Hunter

When Omega gives one of the speeches at her graduation, Hunter’s the first one to get teary. By the time she accepts her diploma, he’s openly weeping. He is is just so proud of Omega and all her accomplishments. He’s got hit with the Dad genes hard.

Hunter is also the one to get all of the keepsakes to mark this occasion. Just because he can tear his way through a battlefield with calm doesn’t mean that he won’t give into being That Dad during Omega’s graduation.

Crosshair

He’s not going to cry, but he is also so proud of Omega. Crosshair has a different relationship with Omega than the rest of their other brothers do. Crosshair is the one sneaking in flasks so that they can toast Omega after her graduation.

Crosshair also does his best to keep Hunter from going into full Embarrassing Dad. (Crosshair is the Cool Dad, after all.) When he can’t mitigate the Embarrassing Dad Hunter, Crosshair hands Omega a paintball gun so that she can terrorize Hunter. (He’s an enabler, and he had a whole array of paintball guns.)

Tech

Yep, Tech is definitely the one who records the entire ceremony and takes all the pictures. It’s kind of what he does. But Omega appreciates it, because she wants to have pictures of everyone during and after the ceremony.

Tech is also the one who will gift Omega a fully decked out car after graduation. (Wrecker helped decorate it.) No, he didn’t tell Hunter he was going to do it. Yes, it’s safe and reliable (doubly so after Tech did his upgrades to it). And, of course, it’s going to be extra fun for Omega to drive.

Wrecker

Guess who is blubbering basically the entire time? Of course, it’s Wrecker. He’s also the loudest voice cheering when Omega gets her diploma and giving her speech. Wrecker is just such a proud big brother.

Wrecker is the one waving the massive “Congratulations, Omega!” sign. He even painted Lula onto the banner. Wrecker also put a little cap and gown on the actual Lula and brought her to the ceremony. (Graduation!Lula showed up in many graduation photos.)

Echo

Echo is absolutely the most chaotic proud big brother during Omega’s ceremony. He definitely didn’t coordinate with Wrecker to do an extra-loud cheer when Omega received her diploma. (Echo will confess to the glitter bombs that were set off though.)

He is also the most prepared for the myriad of reactions that the Batch Family has during the ceremony. (Yeah, Echo has got tissues for Hunter and Wrecker, snacks to counterbalance the numerous flasks Crosshair snuck in, and a bow for the car from Tech.)

Omega

She didn’t tell her brothers that she was going to be giving a speech at her graduation. Omega wanted it to be a surprise, and it was. It takes all of her willpower not to lose it completely when she gives her tribute to her brothers as part of her speech.

Omega decorated her graduation cap with the family’s skull/99 symbols. No one other than her brothers get it, and they loved that. This was her send-up to her family during the ceremony. (She doesn’t care if her school’s administration approves. She’s going to do it anyway.)

#star wars #the bad batch #the bad batch headcanons #tbb tech #tbb crosshair #tbb wrecker #tbb omega #tbb hunter #tbb echo

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kittyball23 · 3 months

Note

Haha, we need another Birthday Fanfic. But this time it's Branch's first birthday with his brother and him all grown up and back together again. The 4 bros might've done a similar shenanigan during their decorations unknowingly Branch already decorated the place himself with his new invention.

Figured I'd release this in time for Justin Timberlake's 43rd birthday 😃

Birthday Man (a Trolls fanfic)

John Dory had agreed to not take on the leadership role any longer when it came to him and his brothers. He had agreed to comply with the newfound leniency among them.

But still, that didn't quite mean that old habits didn't die hard.

The green-haired Troll hummed to himself, a little shake in his hips while he worked to decorate the earthen walls of Branch's bunker with balloons and streamers.

“Birthday boy, birthday boy, everybody make way to-day for the birthday boy!”

John Dory chuckled to himself. “Wow! I can't believe I still remember that little jingle from back in the day!”

Clay smirked, picking out a handful of confetti. “Oh, you mean back when you weren't old?”

JD gasped. “I'm not old!” he huffed. “I just have, um… seniority,” he said, liking the way that term sounded just a little better.

“Oh, okay, you keep telling yourself that,” Bruce said, he and Clay laughing to themselves.

JD narrowed his eyes. “Oh yeah? Well, I'm telling you guys that we better get moving! Those streamers need to be streaming, the balloons need to be popping! Well, in a figurative sense, not literally… oh! And I don't wanna see anything without confetti, are we clear?”

Clay and Bruce crossed their arms, exchanged a glance, and then slowly turned back to him.

“Yeah, we get it, Clay finally said, “And I know just where to start…”

In a flash,the handful of confetti he was holding was splashed right onto John Dory’s face!

“Hey!” the eldest brother yelped in surprise. “What was that for?”

“For being bossy, like you said you wouldn't be!” Clay quipped.

“What? I'm not being bossy! I was just trying to make sure everything'll be ready for when Branch comes!... But I guess I coulda been nicer about it, huh?” he said, considering how he'd spoken to his bros. He grimaced and shuffled a foot on the floor in embarrassment. “Oops. My bad, dudes.”

Bruce put a hand up. “Hey, it's all right, man. Accept our token of apology for jumping to conclusions so quickly.” Suddenly, Bruce flung out another huge handful of confetti and smacked JD right in between the eyes. The purple and lime-green Trolls burst into peals of laughter at the jaw-dropped look of shock on their older brother’s face.

JD frowned and determinedly set his goggles over his eyes. “Oh, it is ON!”

The walls of the bunker were forgotten as JD focused on decorating his brothers in retaliation, and the room was filled with shouts, laughs, and noisy banter.

From the kitchen, where Floyd was busy icing the Fluffleberry cake, the magenta-haired Troll heard the commotion and quickly ran into the room. “Oh no…” Not a fight! He breathed in deeply, calming himself before he stepped in to calm the bros. “Guys!” he called, putting his hands up. “John Dory! Bruce! Clay! Anyone?” His only response was a “Hiya!” and before he knew it, he was engulfed from head to toe in glitter from one of his eldest brother's star bombs.

“Yikes!” John Dory gasped. “My bad, Floyd, that was supposed to be for Clay!”

The lime-green-haired Troll blew a raspberry at him mockingly, causing JD to scowl at first, but then he sighed. “You're right, Floyd. I guess we better call it quits and - “

“No,” Floyd said, putting his hand up. Then, snatching the remaining star bombs from JD’s hands, he flung them at Bruce and Clay. “Let the war continue!”

And, in an explosion of glitter, it did!

__________________________________________

“Branch, you are gonna love this!”

Poppy’s gushing made the blue Troll smirk, even if he couldn't see just yet. “Can I open my eyes yet?”

“Nope!” Viva replied for her sister. “And just to be sure you don't…” Both pink Trolls put their hands over his eyes, and the girls giggled as he grumbled.

“We're almost there!” Poppy said excitedly. She grabbed onto his arm, and he heard the whirring of his elevator platform, and knew that they were heading down into the bunker. What he heard next was a gasp from the sisters, and a ton of shrieks.

“Take that!”

“John Dory, let go of me!”

“OUCH! Did you just bite me?!”

“That's what you get!”

“Uhhh, what is going on?” Branch called out loudly. He peeled the girls’ hands away from his eyes and saw his four older brothers quickly scramble together and throw their arms up in the air.

“Surprise, Branch!”

Branch’s eyes widened the more be looked around the room, with trinkets and keepsakes that he’d collected over the years knocked over, and a colorful mess in the form of birthday decor lining everything he saw… including the four disheveled bros who clearly wore embarrassment on their faces despite the concealing smiles. And was his lamp on fire?!

“Well…” Branch said after a second. “I, um… sure am surprised…”

Floyd looked down. “‘Continue the war,’ what was I thinking?” He covered his face in his hands with a whimper.

“Chill, dude, we were just having some fun,” John Dory said, putting an arm around Floyd.

“Maybe we got a little carried away, though,” Bruce pointed out, plucking a piece of confetti from Clay’s hair and watching as it fell to the floor among the dozens of others that were already there.

“Yeah, sorry, Branch,” Clay said.

Branch surprisingly did not look upset. “Guys, I appreciate it, but it doesn't have to be perfect, remember?”

“Just as long as we're together,” Poppy finished, clasping her hand with his.

“That's right,” Branch replied, the two of them looking at each other lovingly.

The boys smirked at the cute display of affection. Suddenly, Branch became aware and broke his gaze to clear his throat and clarify.

“I - I mean us. Like, all of us.”

“Sure ya did, Branch,” JD said teasingly.

Not wanting his bro to continue being embarrassed, Floyd drew the attention to himself. “Say, guys, I know Branch said that being perfect doesn't really matter… but maybe we should clean up? Just a little bit?”

“No, no, there's no need,” Branch said. “Because I got this!” He unveiled a very complex-looking piece of machinery that was hidden at the corner of the room.

“Wow!” Viva squeaked. “What is that?”

Branch patted the side of it proudly. “I call it the Do-It-Automatically Party Reorganizer. Or for short, the - “

“DIAPR!” John Dory, Bruce, and Clay laughed together in unison.

“Ha, ha, ha, yes, the ‘diaper,’” Branch laughed sarcastically. “Not intentional, by the way,” he clarified.

“You sure about that?” Clay chuckled.

Floyd put a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. “Show us how it works, Branch,” he encouraged kindly.

Branch gave him one nod and a small grin, and then pulled a lever. The machine whirled to life, lighting up and right away getting to work. Mechanical arms swept up any debris or stick or muck, wiping everything spotless and even spiffying the bros back up.

“Now that is one well-oiled machine!” Clay commented, impressed.

“Never thought I'd see a clean diaper,” John Dory joked.

“There's a first for everything,” Bruce shrugged.

Branch rolled his eyes at the diaper comment, but chose to ignore any witty remarks he wanted to fire back, since he had something else up his sleeve. “Wait for the best part,” he said, pushing a red button on the machine's side. It sputtered with vibrations for a sec, and then… BOOM! Like a cannon, decorations shot out from an opening on top, landing flawlessly on the walls, the ceilings, and anywhere else that looked becoming.

“Okay, one word,” Viva squealed, turning to Poppy as both girls replied at the same time. “Fantast-amazing!!”

They clapped their hands excitedly in congratulation, while Branch’s brothers did the same.

“One awesome machine!”

“From one awesome bro!”

“Who's gonna have one awesome cake!”

“To go along with his one awesome PARTY!!”

Branch shrugged his shoulders as his brothers glanced at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something. “Awesome,” he said, prompting the group to laugh.

Suddenly, JD jolted like he just remembered something. “Holy cow! What're we standing around here for? Let's break out the cake! The presents!”

And, even though he sounded borderline bossy, the bros didn't argue. They scurried to the kitchen to grab the delectable pastry, while Poppy and Viva grabbed Branch by one arm each and whisked him away to the table. Branch’s blue eyes widened at the sight of the enormous cake that came out, all four brothers having to hold it tight and steady, and even then it still looked heavy.

“Get a good grip on it!” Bruce urged, until they managed to haul it onto the table.

Poppy and Viva left Branch’s side so they could join the quartet, turning it into a 6-part harmonious melody as they sang to him.

“Ooohmm…

Happy birthday to yoouu,

Happy birthday to yooouuu,

Happy birthday Baby BraaAaAnch…

Happy birthday to yooouuUUU…”

“And many moooore,” Viva crooned, skillfully striking the notes as well as she struck the match and brought the flame up to the candle's wick.

Branch’s smile fell for an instant when he got a better look at the candle, and its shape. “Two?” he cried, appalled. Surely, they knew he wasn't that young, didn't they?

JD looked up at the top of the cake and giggled. “Oops! Forgot the second number.” He patted his pockets, sure he had it, but unable to locate it. “Huh… where is that second candle?”

Floyd tapped his shoulder. “Right here,” he said, extending his hand out with the number six that he had been in search for.

“Ah, there we go!” he exclaimed happily, ruffling his younger brother's magenta hair in appreciation. He slid the candle next to the two… on the left side.

Branch was even more bamboozled. “SIXTY-two?!”

Clay bopped John Dory upside the head. “Dude, don't try to pin being the oldest on Branch, now!”

“Yeah, man, you still have that title fair and square,” Bruce agreed, fistbumping Clay.

JD snorted. “Hmph! And you're not too far behind there, Bruce!”

Regardless, John Dory slid the candle in its rightful place on the right side of the two. “Ayight, how's that?” he asked.

“Great!” Floyd chirped. He glanced at his younger bro and gestured at the cake. “All yours, Branch.”

The blue Troll smiled, shutting his eyes as he considered his wish, and with a great exhale of breath, he blew them out!

The Trolls erupted in enthusiastic cheers. Poppy snuggled against her boyfriend, causing a chain reaction of hugs to ensue as first John Dory, then Bruce, then Clay, then Floyd, and finally Viva squeezed him in a huge family embrace.

“What'd you wish for, Branch?” Floyd asked after a moment.

JD shoved him lightly in the shoulder. “Floyd! Don't make him say, or else it won't come true!”

Branch chuckled. “Yeah, I don't think that'll be a problem… cuz I wished that we'd all be able to sing and dance and be a family together, the way we used to be, and… I’d say that came pretty true, don’t you think?”

“Aww…” Poppy cooed. He was right. And that was a good wish.

John Dory looked a bit pensive, though, stroking his chin. “Hmm… I think ya might be a teensy bit wrong there, Branch.”

Branch raised an eyebrow, and Clay and Bruce were quick to shoot JD a warning look, unsure where their older brother was going with this and hoping that he would not say something that would in turn ruin Branch’s birthday.

But JD grinned ear to ear as he made his declaration. “We're not the exact way we were before. We're even better!”

And that was something that Branch could whole-heartedly agree with. They were older, wiser, and tighter than ever. He had his friends, his girlfriend, a yummy cake baked to his Grandma's exact delectable precision, adorable braids…

Wait.

He double took when glancing up and seeing a triple braided do on his head that almost seemed to manifest out of nowhere. But he knew the Troll responsible, and shot her a look.

“Whattya think? New birthday hairstyle to fit the birthday guy?” Viva giggled.

John Dory beamed. “Ooo! I like the way you’re thinkin’, girl!” He fist-bumped her, and Branch chuckled.

“Thanks, V,” he said.

After that, all Trolls dug into the cake, shared stories, and laughed and sang much of the night away. Branch was nothing but delighted. This wasn’t quite like his first birthday. Or like the birthdays he’d spent alone in his bunker. It was unique in its own way. Special, like his family.

A birthday that was one-hundred percent worth remembering.

#trolls #branch trolls #poppy trolls #viva trolls #brozone #john dory #spruce trolls #clay trolls #floyd trolls #dreamworks #thanks for the ask!#kittyball answers #fanfiction #kittyball writes #brodacious fanfiction

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abitohoney · 4 months

Text

All I Want for Christmas Is You

Chapter 6 of 6 - Bells are Ringing

AO3 link

CH1 || CH2 || CH3 || CH4 || CH5 || CH6

Sevika x female reader

Rating: Explicit, MDNI, 18+, NSFW

Tags: Sevika/Reader, AU - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Lesbian Sex, Cunnilingus, Teasing, Humor, Vaginal Fingering, Orgasm Delay (nothing extreme), Begging, Strap-Ons, Face-Sitting, Corny & Cheesy Dialogue, kinda sappy, light bondage

Word Count: 7.4k

Fic Summary: It’s your first year spending the holidays with Sevika, and though the two of you couldn’t be any different in your level of holiday spirit or view of the traditions that come with it, your shared adoration (and sexual attraction) for each other is more than enough to get both of you through it together.

A collection of little holiday-inspired scenes, technically chronological, but really could be read in any order or as stand-alone oneshots. Includes a nice blend of sugar (fluff) and spice (smut).

Chapter Summary: Beyond excited at the prospect of marrying your one true love, you arrange a small wedding in record time. In less than a week's time, you’ve got your special day planned and set for New Year's Eve. (includes a nice blend of sugar and spice)

AN: Brand new chapter for this holiday season!!!

Beyond excited at the prospect of marrying your one true love, you arrange a small wedding in record time. In less than a week's time, you’ve got your special day planned and set for New Year's Eve. It helps that the only guests invited are Sevika’s- and by extension your- friends. Silco and all his crazy crew.

Turns out your impatience paid off for more than just you. You learn Sevika is actually quite a mess of nerves when it comes to these things. In those few days leading up to your big day, she’s either pacing your home muttering things to herself or smoking cigarillo after cigarillo at your tiny kitchen table and nervously tapping her foot nonstop.

When the day arrives though, it couldn’t be any closer to perfect. There’s a lovely dusting of snow covering the ground, trees, and buildings. The sun shines brightly above, making everything sparkle like something from a lovely snow globe. It’s chilly, but without a single breeze, it’s actually comfortable.

You sit in the small dressing room connected to the reception hall, donning just a white corset bra and short slip as Ran works on your hair and makeup. You’re rather surprised at how skilled they are, not only in application and technique, but also in selecting such a beautiful mix of silver and white accents. Ran even dons a lovely silver suit, and subtle streaks of sparkling silver in their choppy black hair.

Just as Ran finishes up your lipstick, you hear the door fly open.

“Here’s your dress lady!” Jinx hollers as she comes bounding over to the two of you, slinging your wedding dress around like a ragdoll.

She knows your name, but insists on calling you ‘lady’. Likely something to do with her dislike of Sevika and thus you by relation. You take no offense to it, honestly finding it rather entertaining. How your forty-year-old fiance managed to have beef with a teenager is something you’ve yet to learn, but it amuses you nonetheless.

“Thanks Jinx,” you reply with a smile, “You can just hang it up right there.” You nod towards a small rack behind a privacy screen.

She all but throws it onto the rack before clomping over to inspect Ran’s work. As she leans down, well into your personal bubble, you try not to laugh at her scrunched up face while she scrutinizes your makeup. She too is all dolled up with silver and white. Although it’s obvious she did her own work considering it looks as though she’d simply locked herself in a closet and set off one of her bombs, but full of silver and white glitter.

“Nice job Ran,” she finally exclaims before straightening back up with a dramatic swing of her blue braids. “She looks halfway decent.” Her bright eyes look down at your figure before meeting your eyes. “Lady, I really don’t know what you see in Sevika. You should marry Ran. Ran’s single.”

You nearly choke at that last comment, eyes growing wide.

Ran appears considerably less shocked, their dark lips curling into a crooked grin.

“Well, Jinx, I see a lot in Sevika–”

“Also I thought white dresses were only for virgins.”

Now Ran bursts into snorts and barely contained giggles.

You narrow your eyes at the mischievous blue-haired girl.

“What?” she exclaims, then dramatically rolls her eyes and head. “Everyone knows you two did the dirty deed in Silco’s pantry at the Christmas party.” She accents those words with a circle of thumb and pointer finger on one hand, sticking the pointer finger of the other hand repeatedly in and out of the circle.

Ran’s thoroughly enjoying themselves now, and you can’t decide whether you should laugh at Jinx’s crude and ridiculous gesture, or be embarrassed by the fact that more than just Silco knew what you and Sevika had done.

“Speaking of that lumbering oaf, I’m gonna go see how Silco is fairing with his attempt to make her less ugly,” Jinx states before promptly spinning on her heel and skipping towards the door to an adjacent room.

You turn back to Ran, who is just finally recovering from the hilarity of that scene. “I really don’t know what to make of that girl,” you admit, “She’s funny, but obviously blind. Sevika is literally the most attractive woman I’ve ever met.”

Ran shrugs before starting to pack up all their supplies.

You make your way to the floor-length mirror behind the privacy screen to admire your hair and makeup. Ran had really outdone themselves. All that was left was to slip into your wedding dress. A quick glance to the clock says you have less than twenty minutes before the ceremony starts. You wonder how Sevika is fairing. You hadn’t seen her since breakfast that morning, and she had been a disaster of fried nerves.

You hear the door to her dressing room fly open suddenly, followed by the cackling of Jinx as she prances back in.

“What’s so funny?” you ask suspiciously as you step back out from the screen.

“Sevika is freaking out!” she cackles.

Oh no.

Brows knitted in worry, you rush past Jinx and towards the door.

“Hey! Isn’t it bad luck for her to see you before the wedding?” Jinx calls out.

“I don’t care. She needs me. Besides, I’m not in my dress yet.”

The moment you step into the room, you realize just how bad it is. Sevika is sitting, or at least she’s in a chair, but bouncing her legs so erratically it looks like she’s got bugs. She’s facing Silco as he works on applying her makeup. Or at least trying to.

Before you can even say anything, Sevika’s wild eyes are on you and she’s leaping from her chair, ignoring the fact that the eyeliner Silco was in the process of applying has now left a black streak clear down the side of her cheek.

“Oh, that’s not a problem. I’ve just been trying to apply your makeup for the past hour,” Silco drawls with a dramatic throw of his hands.

“Babygirl!” Sevika exclaims, her stormy gray eyes taking in your state of undress, “Are you okay?”

She too is not fully dressed, donning only a pair of white boxer briefs and a white wife pleaser.

Silco turns in his seat to peer over his shoulder at you, rolling his good eye before capping the liner and tossing it into the pile of cosmetics.

Sevika steps around Silco to get a closer look at you. Her brows are knitted in worry and sweat beads along her hairline. She really was freaking out.

“I’m okay,” you assure her, taking her human hand into yours and rubbing it soothingly. “But it looks like you aren’t. What’s wrong?”

“I’m fi-” Sevika pauses, her eyes growing wide. “Where are the rings?!”

She spins around, searching the small room in a frenzy. You have honestly never seen your fiance so frazzled in all your time with her. She was usually so level-headed, or at worst furious, though never with you. She was quite literally a hot mess.

“Sevika, they should be in your jacket pocket. Remember, we put them in there this morning so you wouldn’t lose them.” You pick up her jacket from where it hangs over the back of a chair, pulling out the two boxes from the inside pocket. “See. They're right here. No need to worry.”

Sevika spins around and you can literally see the relief wash over her face. After you slip them back into the pocket and lay the jacket back down you take her hand again and pull her close. You smile up at her softly. Using the side of your thumb, you wipe away the bead of sweat at her temple. “Everything is going to be just fine,” you assure her. She doesn’t appear to believe that, her brows still tightly knitted in worry. So you take her human hand and sneak it under the back of your slip so she can feel the skin of your bare ass. The corner of her mouth twitches as she takes a handful and squeezes.

So close.

You wrap your arms around her neck and pull her down for a sweet kiss. Or at least you intended it to be. The moment she pulls your body flush to hers, she seems to relax. Her tongue prods at your lips, which you happily grant entrance. She swirls her tongue around yours, both of you moaning softly.

Silco intentionally clears his throat, but neither of you pay him any mind. You’re not about to stop kissing your fiance when you can literally feel her worries melting away, taken over by lust.

Her metal hand joins her flesh hand beneath your slip, grabbing a handful of your other asscheek and gently kneading it. She slots her knee between your legs and uses her grip on your ass to drag you up along her thigh. The long, deep moan you release echoes in the tiny room when she finally breaks the kiss to catch her breath.

The two of you stare into each other’s hooded eyes, aching, needy, and oblivious to everything else around you. Specifically Silco.

“I want to fuck you right here. Right now ,” Sevika husks, emphasizing that last word by dragging your aching cunt up along her thigh again.

“Sevika,” you whine, recalling you two have only a little time left before you need to be out and ready for the ceremony. But Janna, do you want her right now.

“No. Really, don’t mind me. I rather enjoy a free show,” Silco drawls sarcastically from his seat.

“Sevika, we have to get ready,” you say softly.

She stares down at you for a moment, lips parted as she contemplates. You know she’s fighting between admitting you’re right, the logic, and wanting to fuck you silly against the door, the instinct.

“If the two of you wish to be at your own wedding- on time- I suggest you save your escapades for tonight,” Silco drawls.

Sevika releases a long sigh.

He’s right.

You’re right.

She releases her hold on you and steps back.

Though she looks just as hot as she did moments ago, new beads of sweat glistening against her dark skin, she at least doesn’t appear to be the least bit worried. But, just to make sure, you grab the small flask of whiskey you had snuck into the other pocket of her jacket and pass it to her.

“Drink. I need you to relax and enjoy our big day.” Realizing her eyes are not on your face, you follow their stare to find she’s focused on your breasts, which are pushed up and out thanks to your ridiculously tight corset-style bra. You smirk up at her. “Why don’t you give each one a kiss for good luck.”

Silco groans loudly.

Sevika’s lips curl into a smirk and she bends down to not only give each breast a soft kiss, but also to make an attempt at sucking a bruise into the supple flesh.

“Sevika!” you chastise, “You can’t mark them. People are going to see it!”

“That’s the point,” Sevika mumbles against your skin before licking a long stripe from one breast to the other. As she straightens back up, she flashes you one of her lopsided grins, knowing damn well she was pushing your buttons and getting you worked up.

With a roll of your eyes, you stretch up to kiss her cheek. “Save the bad behavior for tonight,” you tell her before heading back to your dressing room.

Great.

Now you’re horny and hot as hell, and you’ve got to get into your dress and somehow manage to look and act normal as you walk down the aisle towards the woman who got you so hot and heavy in the first place.

Though you managed to finish getting ready with plenty of time to spare, you can’t help but worry about Sevika.

You stand beside Ran, arm linked with theirs, as you wait for your time to walk down the aisle. The aisle is a long, white length of silk that runs down the sidewalk that leads from the sliding glass door you stand before, clear up to a beautiful gazebo. The gazebo is dressed in lovely drapes of white and silver silks, flowers, and a sprinkling of lovely green sprigs. The snow is lightly falling, creating the perfect winter scene, just as you’d always imagined it. And the icing on the cake; you can see your gorgeous fiance standing under the gazebo, dressed in a beautiful white suit, perfectly tailored to her muscular and curvy build. Her silver tie sparkles just as brightly as the snow surrounding the area, as does the lovely white snowflake pin that holds her silky ebony strands back in its typical half-ponytail. She looks absolutely stunning.

Silco stands back and off to the side, dressed in a silver suit similar to Ran’s, acting as both best man and the one to give Sevika away. Even from this distance, you can see the small smirk on his face as he watches Sevika. It honestly warms your heart how damn cute this is.

You take a deep breath, and slowly release it through your nose. Nerves tingle and burn beneath your skin, but you wear the most enthusiastic smile. It’s a wild mixture of anxiety and excitement bubbling up with each passing second.

Ran taps you on your arm and you turn to find them giving you an encouraging grin. “Ready?”

You take one more breath, then nod.

Ran opens the glass door, arm still linked with yours, and guides you out as the music plays.

The guests, only a couple dozen or so, all turn from their seats in the chairs along the front of the gazebo to watch. It’s almost comical, seeing all of Silco’s crazy crew all dressed up in fancy suits and dresses, all full of bright smiles as you walk down the aisle. Some even look close to tears.

But your attention is quickly drawn to your waiting fiance whose eyes are locked on you. Sevika smiles that cute little crooked smile you love so much as she takes in the sight of you in your beautiful white dress and fluffy white shawl. The snow is feather soft as it falls on you and your guests. Though Sevika is sheltered beneath the gazebo, you can see specs of snow just starting to melt into her dark hair.

You’re all smiles and bright eyes as Ran walks you up the stairs leading to the podium where Sevika stands with the officiant. Seeing her up close, you can really see how downright stunning she is. Her white suit fits deliciously snug, accenting every line of muscle, every curve of chest, hip, and waist. The silver tie, snug to her neck, sparkles much like her silver eyes. But what really knocks you out is the way she’s smiling at you. Like you are literally the most beautiful and perfect thing in the world to her. Your heart swells knowing that’s exactly what’s going through her head.

You stand across from her, nodding to Ran as they step aside and towards the back as your maid of honor.

As the officiant addresses the guests, you almost tune him out entirely, too lost in grinning at your wife-to-be, who appears just as lost in you. Your warm breaths mingle, little white clouds swirling and mixing between you. Though the air is chilly, your entire body heats with excitement and adoration.

Sevika looks as if she’s finally lost all those anxious thoughts. You’re not sure if it’s the drink you handed her earlier, or if she’s just too distracted by you to care. Whatever the reason, you’re grateful that she finally looks comfortable. This moment is just as much for her as it is you.

Sevika repeats her vows as if on autopilot, her eyes on you the entire time even as she slips her hand into her pocket to retrieve your ring.

“With this ring, I thee wed.” Her voice is deep and low, as if she only intends for you to hear. As if you’re the only person there.

Your cheeks burn and ache with how hard you smile as she slips the ring on your finger. She must be feeling the same, her smirk so big and wide you can see that adorable little tooth gap of hers.

She hands you her ring from the same pocket and you can hardly contain your glee as you slip it onto her thick finger. “With this ring, I thee wed,” you say softly, voice shaking with excitement and emotion. You feel the familiar prick at the corners of your eyes, so close to bursting into happy tears.

Sevika’s eyes are glued to your lips and her fingers twitch at her sides. She knows what comes next.

“You may seal your union with a kiss.”

The officiant barely finishes his sentence before Sevika’s metal hand is gripping your waist and pulling you against her body. Her human hand slides along the side of your cheek, fingers behind your head guiding your lips to hers in a bruising kiss.

She kisses you like she’s been craving it for years. All tongue and teeth with no regard to the onlookers. Not that they seem to mind as they cheer, clap, and whistle.

You wrap your arms around her neck and attempt to match her fervor only for her to pull you impossibly closer. Her tongue swirls around your own. You’re almost dizzy and out of breath by the time she finally releases you.

She rests her forehead against yours, a dopey smile on her face as the two of you attempt to catch your breath. The condensation from your now much warmer breaths almost clouds your vision.

“Not even death will take you from me,” she whispers.

You beam up at her. You’re not sure how that could be true, but you believe every word she says.

The two of you walk hand in hand down the aisle together as the guests toss the freshly fallen snow at you. You giggle and shield your face against Sevika’s shoulder, clinging to her bicep and trusting her to guide you back to the reception hall.

By the time the two of you manage to get inside, you’re both covered in the white fluffy snow. You do your best to dust it off Sevika’s suit and hair as she does the same to you.

Sevika grabs you by your forearms and pulls you against her. You gasp at the unexpected move, nearly forgetting how to breathe when you meet her fiery gaze. She looks ravenous.

“I want to fuck you,” she husks, her lips a hairsbreadth from yours.

“I- I do too, but-” you start, words failing you when she teases her tongue along your bottom lip.

“But nothing,” she rasps, “Let me take you into that dressing room and fuck you for the first time as my wife.”

Your cheeks burn and your core aches at her words. As tempting as it is- as tempting as she is- you two will be expected out in the reception hall any minute.

“We- we just need to be patient. After the reception, we can start our honeymoon and do it as many times as you want.”

“How long is the reception,” she all but growls in frustration.

You giggle at her impatience. Though you don’t entirely blame her. You’re just as enthused to consummate your marriage.

“A few hours.”

“Fuck,” she curses, shaking her head while it still rests against yours. “Babygirl, I can’t wait that long.”

“You can,” you insist, “I know you can. Just be patient and it will all be worth it.” You pull back from her. She reluctantly releases you from her grasp, her nostrils flaring in sexual frustration. “Just think how much more fun it will be when you can finally release all that pent-up energy.” You reach up on your toes to kiss the tip of her nose before whispering in her ear. “I’ll let you have me however you wish.”

You pull back to examine her face. That soft, sexy smirk is back. Seems you’ve placated her. At least for now.

“Now come on, wife , let’s go entertain our guests,” you say as you link your arm with hers.

The reception goes on without a single problem. With an open bar, you were pretty sure Silco’s crew would be more than content, no matter the circumstances. Most of them mingle amongst each other near the bar after dinner, but several do make it to the dance floor where you and your wife spend a good part of the night.

The first song is specifically for you and Sevika. It’s slow and sweet. Sevika surprises you, remaining well-behaved despite how close she holds your body to hers. Her arms are wrapped tightly around your waist, yours around her neck as the two of you sway back and forth to the slow tempo.

You both wear soft, adoring smiles, gazes locked and turning out everyone else around you. Sevika tilts her head before dipping down to press a chaste kiss to your lips. Your skin warms and tingles at the sweet gesture. Then she brings her mouth to your ear. You expect her to whisper something dirty, but you’re left pleasantly surprised.

“I love you.”

Those three simple words nearly take you out at the knees. When she pulls back to peer down at you, you’re certain you’re going to cry. How did you ever get so lucky to snag such a beast of a woman whose heart she only shares with you? No one else gets to experience this side of her. At least not up close and personal like this.

“I love you too,” you choke out, so damn close to breaking into tears. You rest your head on her strong shoulder, face buried against her neck for the remainder of the song, not trusting yourself to keep it together if you remain looking at her.

Several drinks in and Sevika definitely starts losing that control, quickly shifting from sweet, lovey-dovey to that fiery passion you knew all too well. Not that you’re complaining. Even your inhibitions start to slip away the more you drink and dance.

By the time the DJ calls for you and Sevika to the middle of the dance floor for Sevika to remove your garter, Sevika has lost all restraint.

Sitting on the chair facing your guests, you know you’re in for it with how Sevika eyes you like fresh meat. It’s no surprise when she puts her whole upper body beneath the skirt of your dress. Not at all necessary for the task at hand, but you know she’s got other things on her mind than just retrieving that tiny bit of lace wrapped around your thigh.

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, biting back the sounds that threaten to escape as you feel her lips press against the inside of your calf. Your cheeks burn under the scrutiny of so many people. And it only worsens when you feel the press of Sevika’s warm, wet tongue slowly gliding up the inside of your thigh. The one without the garter.

Sensing her final destination, you bring your hand to cover your mouth and hope the audience thinks it’s just to stifle giggles. She reaches your thin lace panties and pauses. Unknowingly, you hold your breath, legs damn near trembling in anticipation. It’s a good thing you have your hand over your mouth. There’s no holding back the wanton mewl she pulls from you as she slides that devilish tongue clear up the center of your slit, moaning as she tastes your arousal through the thin fabric.

You close your thighs around her head, realizing all too late that you’d just sealed your own fate. She takes advantage of her locked position, her mouth pressing against your barely clothed cunt. Another swipe of that thick muscle has your mind reeling and your core clenching.

Just when you think she’s going to do it again, she takes mercy on you and pries your thighs open. She moves to the opposite thigh, her teeth catching on the edge of the lace lining the garter and smoothly pulls it down your leg and off over your heel. She stands, garter still between her teeth, cheshire smile on her smug face. She grins at your flushed face for a moment before turning to the audience to show off her successful retrieval.

Everyone cheers, hoots, and hollers, spurring on that ego of hers. If you weren’t so damn flustered, you would give her a good piece of your mind. Unfortunately, you aren’t even sure you can manage to stand on your wobbly legs.

The remainder of the night doesn’t get any less risque. After several more drinks and dirty, slow-grinding songs, Sevika removes her jacket, rolls up her shirt sleeves, and loosens her tie. She stands behind you, hands on your hips as she grinds against your backside to the beat.

Her mouth moves up along the side of your neck, sucking, licking and nipping at the stretch of delicate skin. You tilt your head to the opposite side, granting her more access as you moan softly, uncaring if any of your guests on the dance floor can hear.

Her lips pause at your ear. “How much longer are we gonna do this, babygirl?” she husks.

You hum and smile as you push your ass further back into her, rubbing it in a motion you know she can really feel.

She growls and nips at your ear. “If we don’t go soon I’ll just drag you to the bathroom and fuck you there.”

You slide your hands down the side of your body until they meet hers where they grip your hips. “Aren’t you the one who always speaks of patience?” You tease. “We’ll be done soon. Couple more songs.” You glance around the room, there’s only a few stragglers over at the bar and a couple on the dance floor. “Almost everyone has left.”

“Well then maybe I’ll fuck you right here then,” she purrs, sliding her flesh hand down to cup your cunt through the layers of your skirt.

“Sevika!” you chastise, but it’s lost to her in the way you moan her name and grind against her hand.

She chuckles, warm breath wafting over your neck and shoulders, and good god you are very tempted to take her up on either of those offers.

You two barely make it to your private little cabin she booked for your honeymoon before she attempts to rip your dress off. You stumble in as she kicks the door shut behind her, her hands ripping at the zipper of your dress. The dress falls into a pool on the floor, quickly forgotten. You’re left in just your corset bra and slip skirt.

“Wait!” you exclaim as she attempts to rip those off as well. “I bought something special for the occasion!”

“So What. I’m just gonna rip off whatever you put on,” she husks and pulls you back towards her by your waist.

“Fine, but at least let me put it on so you can see it once!” you insist. You squirm in her grasp, too tipsy to manage your movements. Not that you would have ever stood a chance against her strength anyway. “It will be real quick. I promise.” When you dodge her mouth reaching for your neck, she finally caves.

“Fine. But make it quick,” she huffs.

You scramble over to your suitcase, nearly toppling over when you bend down to pull the bag out that hides your lingerie. Sevika snorts from her spot leaning against the wall behind you and you shoot her a nasty glare. “You’re a bit drunk too,” you remind her, “You hit your head not only getting into the limo, but also getting out.”

She rolls her eyes before her hungry gaze follows you as you saunter- or more like wobble- towards the bathroom.

You’re grateful for selecting a fairly simple set of lingerie. In your current state there’s no way you would manage anything complicated. After slipping out of your bra and slip with minimal tipping over, you quickly pull on your white, lacy babydoll. You take a quick glance in the mirror, pleased to find the cut of the babydoll perfect. It accents every curve delightfully and reveals just enough skin to tease.

“Thought you said this would be quick!” Sevika grunts from just outside the door.

When you sneak back out the door, you don’t bother hiding the grin painting your face. You know she’s going to like your little outfit, even if she does rip it off you. “Patience, Sev,” you purr.

She pushes herself off the wall and turns to you. You swear you can see her pupils widen the moment her gaze travels up your scantily clad form. That lovely crooked grin of hers appears and you can’t help but giggle at her obvious approval.

“You like it?” you ask sweetly.

She steps closer, that sexy smirk curling higher. “I do.” She slides a finger across the fabric hugging your breasts. “In fact-” She lets that finger glide down the thin fabric between your cleavage and licks her lips. “-I think we’ll keep it on tonight.”

You giggle. “Doubt that.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge?”

You reach up to grab her tie with a playful smile. “I bet you can’t last more than three minutes before you’re ripping this outfit to shreds.” You start to pull her towards you as you slowly back your way to the bed.

Her lips curl into a crooked grin. “Oh you wanna make a bet, babygirl?” Her hands find your hips, eyes locked on yours as you continue to pull her.

You nod.

“I win, you’re mine to do with as I please for the entire night.” Her voice is low and dangerous. As if what she’d do with you would truly be devastating. But you both know, no matter who wins, you’re both going to enjoy it.

“Well if I win, which we both know I will, you’re mine to do with as I please for the entire night,” you counter.

“Deal.”

You take a quick glance at the clock beside the bed. 11:41. She’s got to last until 11:45. Highly unlikely. Your attention returns to her and don’t bother trying to hide your confident smile.

The backs of your knees bump into the mattress and you tug on her tie, pulling her lips to yours. Both of you moan into each other’s mouths, tongues swirling and fighting for dominance. Of course Sevika wins, every part of her overpowers you. Not that you mind.

You continue to pull her along as you sit on the bed and scoot backward. She follows without breaking the kiss, her knees moving along the bed on either side of your thighs. It’s not until your head collapses against the pillows that you finally release her and break the kiss. Lips parted and wet, you both attempt to catch your breath.

Sevika hovers over you, her hands on either side of your shoulders and knees on either side of your hips, eyes half-lidded and burning with lust.

After a moment she finally rises on her knees. She loosens her tie and pulls it over her head. Her grin is lecherous. That should have been your warning, but rather than toss the tie aside as you expect, she scoops your wrists up and wraps the tie around them before securing the other end to the headboard.

Your gasp of surprise is met by a sinister little chuckle. One that has that familiar ache between your thighs pulsing.

She quickly removes her white blouse and tosses it aside before shimmying out of her pants, leaving her in just her white wife pleaser and boxer briefs.

Her mouth crashes into yours again. This time her kiss is wild. Sloppy. But she doesn’t linger there long before she’s making her way down the side of your jaw to your neck. She moves her knees, pressing them between yours and forcing you to spread them open.

You wrap your legs around her waist, moaning as she finds your pulse point and sucks hard. Then she’s moving even lower until her mouth finds your breasts. You desperately want to thread your fingers into her hair as she sucks matching love bruises into the plump flesh of each breast, releasing a frustrated huff and pulling against your restraints. You can feel her lips curl into a devious smile, clearly amused by your distress.

“You’re an ass,” you whisper breathlessly.

“You love it,” she mumbles before licking a long stripe between your cleavage.

As much as you’d like to argue that fact, not only is she right, but your head empties the moment she rocks her hips, dragging herself between your legs.

“Sevika,” you whine, eyes fluttering shut as pleasure rolls through your body.

She chuckles and rocks her hips again.

You can already feel the desire pooling low in your belly. The two of you have been craving each other the entire day. It’s not going to take much to get either of you off. Especially not when she keeps acting so fucking cocky.

One of her hands grope at your breast while the other remains on the mattress. She continues to grind into you, pulling moan after moan from your parted lips. Her fingers slip beneath the cup of your lingerie and attempt to pull it down.

She growls in frustration, the fit of your lingerie apparently a little too good. The rhythm of her hips falters as she diverts her attention to her attempt at removing the offending material. You peer down at her through hooded eyes, a small smile on your face as you witness her struggles.

She mutters something under her breath, most likely a curse, and you barely contain your laughter. It’s only a matter of time before her frustration boils over and she rips your clothes off, just as you said she would.

She glances up at your bound arms, realizing she can’t pull the lingerie off over your head and it’s her own damn fault.

This time you snicker and she flashes you a nasty look. She sits up on her knees, and even though you know what’s coming next, you still release a startled squeal when she reaches down with her clawed metal fingers and tears right through the flimsy lace. She doesn’t stop there either, making short work of your underwear as well.

Now she’s the one chuckling. Not that it matters to you. A quick glance to the clock, 11:43, and you’ve confirmed your victory.

“You lost!” You exclaim, but you’re not prepared to find that smug smile still painting your wife’s face.

“Did I, though?” She taunts, her eyes darting up to your bound hands, then back to your surprised face.

Realization sinks in, but before you can protest, her mouth descends to your breast, teeth clamping down on the hardened peak.

Your sharp gasp dissolves into a soft moan as she soothes the marks she left with a swirl of her tongue. Your eyelids fall closed again. Her lips remain curled in a devious grin while she continues to suck and tease the sensitive nub.

She moves to pay the same attention to your other nipple, alternating between biting, licking, and sucking. All the while you strain against the tie holding your wrists, desperately wanting to touch her. To guide her head lower where your body aches for her the most.

“Sevika, please,” you whine, arching your back when she bites down particularly hard.

“Please what?” she asks.

Your eyes slowly flutter open to find her smirking face now hovering over yours.

“Please touch me.” You know those words won’t be enough for her. They never are. She’s a sadist who loves to make you tell her exactly what you want, just so she can see you flustered. Though you'd be lying if you said that didn’t make your core burn just as much as it did your cheeks.

“I’ve been touching you, sweetheart.” she teases.

“Lower…” your whine trails off into a wanton moan when she intentionally pushes a knee between the apex of your thighs.

“Where?”

“Sevika!”

“Use your words. Tell me where you want me to touch you.” She’s taunting you, but Janna it’s so damn sexy, especially with that husky voice of hers.

You squirm beneath her, trying desperately to rub yourself against her knee, but she quickly pulls it away with a chastising “Tsk”. You’re so damn turned on and needy you can’t help the pathetic sob that rips from your throat.

Finally, you cave.

“Touch my pussy! Please, Sevika!” you beg, cheeks burning.

“That’s my good girl,” she purrs and you keen. She brings her lips to yours in a passionate kiss, stealing your breath away. She slides her calloused fingers slowly down your stomach until two fingers rest just outside your wet folds, her middle finger hovering just above.

She swallows your whimper.

You swallow her evil little chuckle.

She finally takes pity on you and slides her middle finger through your slit. Her tongue swirls around yours, mimicking the motion of her fingertip circling your clit.

You writhe beneath her. The sensations are too teasingly slow and soft. You need more. You need her inside you. When she hears you whimper against her lips, she finally breaks the kiss to peer down at you.

“Sevika,” you gasp, “Stop teasing!”

“Hmm,” she hums, “You want my fingers inside that pretty little cunt?” That damn cocky smirk still paints her face and it makes the knot low in your belly pull tighter.

You nod your head frantically.

“You sure it’s ready?”

Another nod.

“I don’t know, babygirl. I don’t want to hurt you if you’re not ready.” She runs the tip of her finger through your entrance again, collecting your juices before returning to tease the bundle of nerves above.

Even in the haze of your arousal, you’re aware that she knows damn well you are more than ready. You can feel the wetness leaking down the insides of your thighs. And you know she feels it too. She’s toying with you. Trying to get you even more riled up than you already are.

“I’m ready!” You try to give her a stern look, but it falls short when she slides two fingers through your folds.

She hums again, “You are pretty wet.”

You say nothing, just stare up at her with pleading eyes. Janna, she’s so fucking sexy you’re certain the moment she finally does give you what you need you’re going to lose it almost instantly.

Just when you think she’s finally caving, she drags that blissful torture on even longer, deliberately sinking her middle finger ever so slowly inside you. Simultaneous groans fill the room. For as many times as she’s used those fingers, you’ll never get used to how sinfully thick they are. How you can feel each knuckle and each callous drag along your walls. Likewise, she never gets enough of how deliciously tight and wet you are.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” she groans, her warm breath wafting over your lips as she lowers her head. “Such a tight, wet pussy.”

A wave of pleasant warmth rushes over your lower half, followed by an ache that makes you crave more.

“And it’s all mine, isn’t it?” she husks.

Words fail you as she slides the last remaining length of her finger inside you and trails the tip of her tongue across your bottom lip. Your eyes flutter shut.

“Is this pussy mine?” she asks as she begins slowly sliding her finger in and out.

You swallow thickly and try to answer, but you’re too drunk on pleasure.

“Answer me or I stop,” she growls before nipping at your bottom lip.

You yelp, more startled than hurt.

“I- I-” you struggle to form words while she relentlessly distracts and teases you, running her tongue along the little indents she left on your lip. “Yes, it’s yours. All yours.”

“That’s right,” she husks, her lips grazing yours before she seals them with another quick kiss.

She starts fucking you with a slow, steady pace, rocking her hips with the motion as if she was strapping you. You rock your hips along with her, teeth catching your bottom lip in an attempt to hold back your moans. But she’s not having that.

She slips another finger inside, increasing her pace until you’re unable to keep your mouth in check. Moan after moan spills from your parted lips as she fucks you in earnest. Your hips rock with hers in time with her fingers thrusting. The bed shakes, headboard rattling against the wall. Neither of you notice, too high on the sounds and sensations the other is providing.

You can feel your orgasm rapidly approaching, the knot in your belly burning and drawn tight. The rocking of your hips falters until you finally give up and let her take complete control.

She gladly takes over, speeding up even more, curling her fingers so with every withdrawal she’s hitting that sweet spot that makes you see stars.

“That feels so good,” you mewl.

“Yea? You like that?” she huffs, her breaths just as ragged as yours.

“Janna, yes!” You fight against your restraints, desperate to touch your wife.

“You’re close aren’t you?” she grunts against the side of your neck.

“Yes!”

Those fingers are thrusting inside your sopping wet cunt so hard now the room is filling with debauched squelching sounds.

Your body tenses, every muscle pulled taut. You’re so close.

“Cum for me,” she growls before sinking her teeth into your neck.

All the sexual tension that had been building that day finally releases in a tidal wave of pleasure. Blinding light flashes behind your closed eyes. A string of nonsensical words spill from your mouth. Your walls clench and spasm around her fingers, pushing your release out in a gush that drenches her hand.

“Fuck, sweetheart. That’s it. Let it all out. Such a good girl for me,” Sevika groans into your ear, her fingers pumping into you while you ride out that blissful high.

When your body starts to twitch beneath her, overstimulation setting in at the end of your high, she slows her pace before finally pulling out completely.

You’re startled from your post-orgasmic bliss when you suddenly hear fireworks somewhere in the distance. You turn to glance out the large glass door to see the bright colors lighting up the night sky, then you see the time. 12:00. New Years.

Unbelievable.

You turn back to your wife with a smile as large as you can manage in your fucked out state.

Resting on her forearms and knees, Sevika peers down at you adoringly, her lips pulled into a satisfied grin. Both of you pant, equally out of breath.

All you can manage to think at that moment is how damn lucky you are to have such a wonderful wife. Not just because she’s indescribably good in bed, but also because she’s so fucking sweet. She rented this cute little private cabin for the two of you to spend your honeymoon. Prepacked said cabin with goodies and firewood for the fireplace. She even perfectly time your special moment with the fucking fireworks!

She reaches above you to remove the tie from the headboard and your wrists, and you immediately pull her down for a sweet kiss.

When you release her, she pulls back just far enough to touch the tip of her nose to yours.

You suppose you can forgive her for reneging on your bet. Kinda hard to complain when she fucked you so good AND timed it with the New Year.

“Happy New Year, wife,” you whisper.

She smiles down at you lovingly. “Happy New Year, my perfect wife.”

#arcane #sevika #arcane sevika #sevika x reader #arcane sevika x reader #fanfic #honey writes #BONUS CHAPTER FOR THIS HOLIDAY SEASON! 😁#Plans got all jacked up so posting earlier than I originally intended

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sunboki · 10 months

Text

— START TO FINISH a Han Jisung fiction

🧸 : Han Jisung x implied! fem. reader

TROPE. enemies to lovers, forced friendship, friends to lovers, angst, fluff

WORD COUNT. 6.2k ☆ 31 minute read

WARNINGS. lots of cursing, underage drinking(reader & han are 18, legal drinking age in korea is 19), making up, reader punches someone

AUG'S NOTES. i know i know, after so long the fic is finally here!(thank goodness) and i just remembered how @geneziesm was excited for this back in.. february?? so apologies for the wait sweetness, hope you don’t mind that i changed our love interest from changbin to jisung :’) btw, the cabin they’re staying in looks like this

PLAYLIST.

SYNOPSIS. From start to finish. That’s how you ended things with Han Jisung, starting with your fist balled up and ending with a slam right to his cheek. Or so you hoped. “I mean, they’re just kids, what could they do?” Was what both of your parents said as they spoke over the phone without you knowing. Without either of you knowing you learned later on, luggage in hand as you stared at the dangling road sign beside the cabin’s entrance. Gangwon Cabin, the place you’d be occupying with Han Jisung, your mortal enemy, for two months. It could be worse.. right? No. This was the worst it could be.

or alternatively :

Two months ago you were certain you’d hate Han Jisung forever, but what about now?

You’re. Fucking. Kidding me.

"You take one step into this room and I cut off every limb attached to your body, understood?" Is what you hissed at the boy who looked too smug standing in front of you.

"Awe, aren’t you just the sweetest?"

"Better yet, I could cut off your tongue."

"The more the merrier." He stuck out his tongue connivingly, earning a hard slam of the door right in the face.

You don’t care if you have to slam that door a billion more times to escape from him, you’d do it in a heartbeat.

Your only priority for these two months? Avoid Han Jisung at all costs.

Han Jisung is the boy that ate sand as a kid. You’re sure of it.

You’ve convinced yourself he somehow ate enough sand to where it creeped up into his brain and made him into a complete asshole for the rest of his life. A shame, really.

You didn’t know if that was true or not —though you wouldn’t be surprised if it was— but the theory served as a decent explanation of why he acted like an absolute piece of shit… For the most part.

Honestly, the hatred was sort of mutual. If you define mutual as in unspoken glares across the classroom and his malice-filled smile glittering right back at you, then yeah, mutual.

Starting from the moment you stepped into Mr. Jeong’s class and took your seat beside him, a blazing electric bolt strung itself between you two. And despite being unsure why, the bolt grew stronger without sign of stopping, alighting hatred and dislike.

Was it fair carrying the burning grudge? Not at all, but if Han Jisung kept egging you on like he always did, it would stay that way.

Except what was once anger noticed by only you quickly escalated into heated, gas-lit arguments the entire school heard—because Han Jisung found the perfect timing every time. Heavy on the sarcasm.

Best example? You had utterly bombed your chemistry midterm, one you tirelessly studied for as well when a shadow loomed over your desk belonging to none other than the Devil’s offspring himself (if you guessed anyone other than Han Jisung, you’re dead wrong).

"I wouldn’t recommend crying in class, but that grade is pretty shitty so if you need a shoulder, I've gotcha sweetheart." He cockily pats his shoulder while sending you a wink, and you couldn’t believe someone would so blatantly ask for a broken nose, yet here you are.

Trust that your list of reasons to plan a burial for the seat-mate goes on as long as you breathe.

And apparently, whatever chemical reaction you’d fucked up during the exam turned out to be highly explosive on a Friday afternoon, unfortunately without the addition of Han’s broken nose. You were close though.

That day he picked. Picked and picked and picked enough that your fist found itself smashed against his jaw, the boy’s hand immediately coming up to shield the wound. Instantaneously, the classroom became noiseless apart from the sound of blood pumping in your ears and Jisung’s heavy breathing.

"Han Jisung, Ln Yn, go to the office. Now!" Mr. Jeong called from the doorway, noticeably out of breath from his brambled hair and glasses askew upon his nose.

The customary lecture about how you should "never resort to violence" was nothing new for the both of you, Counselor Kim’s furious tapping of her foot reflecting the glare she burned your way. From the other side of the room Han sat on the patient-bed, a bandage sized to his cheek covering where you’d unapologetically swung all your frustration. You had zero remorse and would continue to have zero remorse. Forever.

"For the love of god what are you two standing there for?! Apologize. This. Instant!" And with the final crack in her flaming attitude she stomped out the door, fanatically shaking her head with dismay.

Ravaging every advantage, you sauntered towards the boy, releasing a heavy sigh just to announce your 'sincerity' first and foremost. Now was prime time to sugar him up, and you’d be sure not to take it for granted.

Stepping forward, you lift your head to deliver a faux smile.

"I’m so sorry for everything I’ve ever done to you leading up to this, especially after punching you in a spot that won’t heal for a long time because you never deserved that and most definitely did nothing wrong." Delighted to finally be pushing his buttons just as he did yours, you plaster the most guilty expression you can manage, voice dripping with lies.

Jisung breathes a rather bored sigh.

"Nice try."

Geesh, he’s exasperating. Take a hit for once, why don’t you.

"You want me to pray for your forgiveness or what?" Managing to omit the derogatory nickname attached to your sentence, you spare a hasty glance at Ms. Choi, the nurse who every other male at the school had a crush on. She types into her laptop at an alarming pace—fortunately either ignoring or oblivious to your brewing cat-fight.

The boredom appears to leave him instantly for a reason you couldn’t guess. Regardless, you knew it meant bad news.

Exasperating. He is unbearably exasperating.

"'Didn’t think you were that in love with me, but no. I want you to give me a kiss," Using the hand he’d previously ran through his hair, he pointed to his cheek. "Right here."

Is no one else hearing this? He’s not serious .. right? And why are your hands sweaty?

"Bullshit."

Aha, there’s the usual Oxford graduate vocabulary. Let’s hope Ms. Choi didn’t hear anything.

"Sadly. Worth a try though." Jisung deflates, swinging his legs around aimlessly. He’s daring from a point you can’t figure out. His inability to piss you off is easy to discover, but there’s something else there—a word your finger keeps skipping over.

Then suddenly, in the midst of observing your lost-in-thought expression, he piques with realization. By the time you notice, all your earlier remorse voluntarily throws itself out the window. Not that there was any remorse anyway. Definitely.

"Wait- don’t tell me you’re actually going to apologize, hold on I need to record this—"

"SHUT UP! I’m leaving, have a good evening Ms. Choi." The poor woman jumped out of her skin, shakily bowing farewell as you stormed from the infirmary, seething rage billowing out both ears.

Your walk home lasted much longer than usual, probably because you didn’t even want to step foot on the property; wanted to savor every moment of fresh air before seeing your parents in their fury glittering glory.

Unbeknownst to you, they’d already gotten the call—four hours ago, to be exact. Though you didn’t realize that’s how long you’d been procrastinating, and neither did Han Jisung, who was doing the same thing.

Except while you walked around killing time, he occupied a swing at the old neighborhood playground, humming a tune to himself.

So as you turned the corner, the last person you expected to be there was there, seeming quite aloof as he gazed off into the distance.

"What’re you doing?"

You swore he leaped a solid foot into the air, hand frantically clutched to his chest as if you were the doctor telling him he wasn’t allowed to jack off anymore.

"Jesus! You scared me. I should ask you the same thing," Han grumbled, lips pulled into a taut pout.

This momentary peacefulness, or whatever isn’t hostility occupying the space between you is gross considering you’d socked him mere hours earlier, still able to make out the light bruising scattered along his jaw.

You kick off some of the mulch lingering atop your shoelaces. "Procrastinating going home, you?"

Laughing bitterly, Han settles back into the swing. "I guess that’s something we can agree on," He says, causing you to sort of falter.

Sadness lingers in his tone and you can’t decipher it, not when your average Han Jisung would be rearing to tease you. Instead, he remains quiet enough that when your phone buzzes in your pocket, you flinch.

"I’ve gotta go. This is the eighteenth time she’s called, I wish I was joking." You breathe through your nose, staring at your mom’s number flickering atop the screen.

Why you even dismissed yourself you don’t know. It was Han Jisung, why did you bother? You should’ve acted spiteful and left him at that. But you couldn’t. Not when he seemed so.. miserable. You staved down the gnawing guilt.

"What color do you want to wear in your casket, I’ll be sure to tell your parents."

Well there goes any chance of being nice.

"I hate you," You automatically snarl, spewing those words as if they had no weight anymore.

Looks like everything is back to normal, for now.

Currently standing at the doorstep, you thought back to all the excuses you’d used in the past and which one seemed suitable this time around. Which one would, hopefully, secure your life for another day.

There’s the truly heroic "he was insulting you guys! Saying you didn’t raise me right!" that would earn a bit of sympathy, or maybe you could even go bigger and say he was threatening to rob you and— the door opened. Shit.

"Come in! Tell me about your day at school." Your mother, strangely enough, smiled.

Okay. What the fuck is going on. Where’s the berating and disowning threat, seriously.

"Aren’t you mad?" You skittishly ask, only receiving a swift jerk of her head signaling for you to come in.

Hence, you tentatively, like an ax would strike you at any moment, obediently tip-toe into the living room, glancing around cautiously.

She finds her spot on the couch beside your dad and you nonchalantly shift a good distance from the two, just to be safe.

Who knows, perhaps they’d planned collaborative man-slaughter.

"Oh no, we’re livid, but we talked about it and have a fantastic idea that we’re sure will help!" Help what, you’re not sure. All you know is that this cannot possibly end well.

Your ungodly hour wake up was the first unfortunate event, basically being shoved into the car to who knows where and before you knew it, the sunlight illuminating the road in front of you became shrouded with shadows of tall alpines looming overhead. They spared no hint as to what their "fantastic idea" was yesterday, so the jury ruling your case as a third-degree murder was only something you could wonder from the backseat. Something you could wonder for a long, long time.

Thankfully, decades later, the vehicle eventually came to a halt and your parents wasted no time shoving you just as easily as they did into the car, outside of the car. Adjusting to the brightness, you find yourself facing a building only definable as a cabin from the wooden exterior and forest surroundings.

A creative collaborative homicide, definitely.

"We’re here~" Your mom calls from the passenger seat, helping unload stuffed suitcases from the trunk.

Suitcases. Lovely.

Alright, staying here for a while doesn’t sound too bad aside from the feeding yourself part. Yogiyo Food Delivery could find their way here, surely. You’d just have to give a generous tip, that’s all.

Clapping her hands together a little too excitedly, the woman pats your shoulder, gesturing to the abundant amount of luggage your dad heaved to the entrance, or wherever the rickety door leads.

Hold on, whose car is that parked beside yours?

Almost like she read your mind, her brows lift cartoonishly as you follow the click of a car door opening in unison.

"Oh! Right! Now we wanted to make sure this would be beneficial for both of you, so we invited Han’s parents to have him stay with you for these two months!"

Haha.

You’re dreaming. This is all a dream. Because Han Jisung did not just get out of that Kia, and she did not just say two months.

Automatically, your hands fly into the air, willing to battle your way out of this one if that’s what it takes.

"You’re leaving me here? Are you serious-what’re you-Hey! Don’t drive away!" Before you can open your mouth the two cars back out of the dirt road without so much as a goodbye to the children they’d utterly abandoned, might you add the children that wanted nothing more than to bury each other a day ago.

And so, the two months of summer hell began.

..Albeit, out of all your troubles, the scenery wasn’t too hellish opposed to the internal screaming echoing around your skull.

Instead, serene, comfortable sound consumed the wilderness surrounding the cabin, filling your ears with the hum of evening birdsong and water trickling from the river below. At least that part was tolerable.

You perch on the edge of the railing and listen, trying to distract yourself from your mind for a moment—allowing you to bask in a billion thoughts you wished to drown out.

Han had already gone inside without even a hello (not that you expected one), seeming to feel the same amount of hopelessness as you did after hearing your fate. Peaceful, until the creaking patio door opening rips every inch of calmness right out of your grasp.

"The view is nice, isn’t it."

Stop it. Stop talking like we’re friends. It’s not normal. We are not normal.

The sensible part of your mind tells you this is how people that don’t go for the throat talk, but you can’t convince yourself to communicate like that. Not with your history, not now.

"Nice without you interrupting me." Your grip tightened on the fence supporting you, refusing to even spare him a glance in fear of watching disappointment flood his frontal. You’d stab a stake through your chest before succumbing to him, before sympathizing his feelings.

"I’m going inside," you mouth, quickly slipping past him through the half-open door without another word.

Unforgiving. You are both very unforgiving. Or maybe it’s you, unable to forget about your grievances, unable to let go. For a second—closing the door behind you—you fear you’ll never be able to let go.

Radio silence inhabits the aged home, and you both hurry off to separate sides to digest everything’s awfulness in your own, unique ways. Han resorts to strumming the acoustic guitar he’d stuffed in his bag before leaving Seoul, and you, well, you cope, furiously pacing the room until exhaustion overtakes your limbs and you pitifully flop onto the floor.

The suitcases will have to rot outside tonight because leaving this spot, no less passing by the living area, meant Han Jisung exposure, the last thing your sour mood needed. You rationalize—you really do—but fleeting thoughts and whatever keeps itching your leg steal your chance of thinking positively.

Wait.

Alternatively, during what he assumes to be your sulking-about-how-life-isn’t-fair session, Han’s daily mug of coffee (the one he’d missed out on due to being forced up at the asscrack of dawn) was cut short thanks to a shrill scream. He hurriedly placed his beverage on the counter, racing to where you stood glued to the wall of the hallway, finger shakily pointing to a bug crawling along the floor.

Mischievously, Han crossed his arms over his chest, surveying the chaos that could ensue with a simple request. This was already off to a great start.

Why not get his fair share? Toying with you was way too fun after all.

"Y’know, there’s a great way to deal with this." He takes his last swig of caffeine while you basically crawl into your skin, impossibly backing up further from the skittering insect.

"And what would that be?"

Rookie mistake. He can tell you’re aware of exactly what he’s going to say next, already two steps behind him before you realize you can do anything about it. What to choose, what to choose.

Then, Ding! A marvelous idea strikes.

"I’ve always imagined the nickname Sungie would sound cute coming from you," he sings, dreadful anticipation vividly apparent. He’s having a blast.

Wrinkling your nose, your glare radiates nothing but red-hot animosity, patience walking a thin wire. Han loves every bit of it.

"What the hell are you talking abou—"

"You might wanna say it, that beetle is getting closer," He says, voice laced with devilish intent.

Unfortunately for you, life and death were the only ways to get through this. Naturally, you leaned closer to choosing death for the sake of your reputation, but life had to be an asshole and shatter your ego into a billion tiny pieces last minute.

"FUCK- Sungie- kill it now!" You shout, releasing a very frustrated scream you’re certain could’ve topped Regina George’s.

Beneficial? She called this beneficial?

"I knew it’d be cute,” He snickered, instantly covering the god-forbidden demon with his empty cup and grinning up at you with crescent moon eyes as if he hadn’t brutally manipulated your terror seconds before.

You hate him. Hate him hate him hate him.

God. You wanted to cry.

. ..

Jisung would’ve loved to see your reaction if he caused a ruckus so early, but he was being nice this morning, carefully traveling around the kitchen island to fill his thermos with water when he dropped the metal bottle and the loudest, most blaring screech echoed around the entire house.

Truthfully, it was an accident. Truthfully.

You wouldn’t believe him.

Not even a minute later, low and behold, the adorable grumpiness identified as you peeked out from a blanket burrito, noticeably seething from your bedroom door.

"It’s five in the morning you lunatic, what is so important that you’re leaving at five in the morning," you grumble, instinctively pulling your blanket tighter when he approached.

"You really want me to stay with you that badly, honey? All you had to do was ask~" You tiredly push away his kissy face leering close, clad in pajamas and not quite awake enough to put up with him.

He twirls the keys, stopping to dramatically blow you a kiss in the process.

"'M going on a run, don’t miss me too much,” Jisung waved, and with the click of the door closing behind him, he’s gone to who knows where.

His cockiness makes you roll your eyes as you begin whipping up some form of breakfast to satiate your stomachs complaints, knowing your chances of going back to bed were slim to nothing due to being woken up so mercilessly.

If he dropped what sounded to be a iron pipe to wake you up, thinking about what his next "alarm clock" would be gives you goosebumps. Yep. No going back to sleep for you.

Except the minute hand ticks by, and what used to be a short run turns into an uneasy feeling by the time the third hour rolls around.

Three hours and twenty minutes.. Three hours and thirty minutes.. Three hours and forty minutes..

Screw it, you’ll go looking for him.

"Jisung? Jisung, where are you!" Your shouting has to have echoed around the entirety of Gangwon at this point, stopping to catch your breath on the side of the never ending dirt pathway. Miles and miles you scour, gradually reaching a bench covered by a willow tree where you slump down, enjoying the swift moment of rest.

What you hadn’t expected enjoying your much needed break was to find the exact boy you were searching for, lying fast asleep in the shade.

Covering your mouth to mute your gasp, a string of mumbled curses fall off your tongue as you get up from your spot and hesitantly approach the sleeping beauty.

Oh so slowly you sit down in the grass, paying attention not to make too much noise from the crunchy leaves.

"It’s not fair that you’re pretty even when napping," You mutter, infatuated by his mesmerizing looks that seem to glow in the minimal light emerald leaves reflect.

That is, before his eyelashes dust and you noisily rush to your feet, flushing pink at an alarming pace. The prince-like beings' cheeks puff, blinking rapidly to clear the sleepy haze.

"Huh? Y/n, when did you get here? You’re red; are you okay—"

"Yeah. C’mon." You speed-walked ahead despite Jisung calling out for you to slow down, terrified he’d seen you or, worse, heard the things you’d said.

He stalls to pick up something and you experimentally glance back, noting a green color visible through the plastic bag he held. What’s inside is only recognizable by the clinking of glass colliding together.

"Did.. did you- is that…" Words pour without making sense, squinting accusingly at the bit of a label you can see reading "Chum Churum Soju."

Your bewilderment keeps you planted to the ground, scrolling through your mental list of possibilities explaining why it couldn’t be alcohol. And suddenly you genuinely question if Han’s delinquency appeared outside of school as well.

Surely, because the smirk painting his features when he caught sight of your shocked expression left no room to wonder.

"Won't it be fun?" He shakes the bag. "We’re irresponsible highschoolers anyways, and the grandma working there said it has the best flavor this time of year."

So that’s how he managed to get by without an ID. Of course.

Problem? One, you’re underage. Two, who knows if someone found out. Three, you had no goddamn clue what you were like drunk, and the last thing you wanted to happen was a detrimental mistake under the influence with Jisung. Everything about this foreshadowed disaster, how he couldn’t figure that part out was beyond you.

Or maybe he wanted disaster to strike, maybe it was all a part of his plan, the cherry on top to ruin your life permanently.

Yeah, you’re not letting even a drop enter your system.

"Aigoo— don’t cry," Han whines, obviously a bit tipsy, though compared to you who’s almost completely wasted (rocking back and forth while spilling nonsense to nobody in particular), he’s basically sober.

It was an accident, you swear. You couldn’t help it, he called you a coward and dared you to a drinking contest that put your precious pride on the line—leading into this shithole of a situation in the first place. Backing down meant ultimate defeat, and knowing you had at least three more weeks stuck here narrowed down the last option available.

"'M not crying asshat.." You sob, hand feebly hitting the table in a pitiful show of aggression. Your brain is fuzzy and everything feels so weird and dizzying. Then you feel it.

Oh no. Word vomit. You can’t stop it.

"I just don’t think it’s fair, Jisung," You blurt, Han blinking tiredly upon hearing his name. "You have such a pretty face for such an awful person."

You’re babbling now, blurily viewing multiple emotions unfold prior to opening his mouth. You guess in some way he heard what you said below the willow tree, even as a drunk confession.

"You.. You think I have a pretty face?" Though seconds after he finishes speaking you lean across the table to press your index against his lips, the boy’s eyes growing to the size of saucers.

"Shut uppp, I don’t wanna hear your voice, ever." Interrupting the question, you wobble to your feet, grip fumbling on the chilled door knob before blindly plowing into the room and collapsing on your mattress.

Meanwhile, Jisung attempts to stop you. Keyword: attempts. He does, almost there, and then the carpet trips him somehow (his own way of pretending he didn’t slip over nothing) and he’s kissing the floor, exhaustion immediately numbing his entire alcohol-ridden body till he succumbs to oh so welcoming sleep.

Gasping awake, a rampaging headache greets his skull, unevenly carrying himself to grab a barely there cup of water that’ll hopefully ease some tension. He assumes this must be a hangover, and man, it’s more of a pain than he thought.

The Jisung back in Seoul wouldn’t be able to fathom getting drunk at noon before ending up here, a place that was certainly not home. Well, the Jisung back in Seoul wouldn’t be able to fathom getting drunk at noon along with waking up on the floor, being stuck in this place with you, and an entire collection of things he couldn't name off the top of his head.

Being completely honest, he’s amazed he hadn’t slept the rest of the day and night after earlier, filled with crude small talk and stolen alcohol sipped from styrofoam cups. And you calling him pretty, that too.

Said styrofoam cups scatter in disarray all over the floor, evidence of how drunk you’d both got that painted quite an impressively messy picture.

There’s not much to see staring through the fogged window; Gangwon’s relentless humidity leading to a nearly impossible view of the lake outside. Though he doesn’t mind. In fact, knowing that no one can find him here, you and him, isn’t too bad. No teachers looming over him, nor were his parents reprimanding him for grades slightly below perfect.

Although in the midst of his headspace, a floorboard creaks exceptionally loud and you stand, rocking back and forth on your heels and gazing at him through half-lidded eyes he can’t quite read. What he distinctly spotted, however, was the smile casually gracing your lips. A dreamy, loopy smile that told him something wasn’t exactly normal.

"Sungie.."

Han cranes to hear what you say, bewildered by the nickname you swore to never utter. Were you still drunk? You had to be, or you wouldn’t have approached him with open arms like that to bury your head into his chest where he feared you’d hear his hammering heartbeat—frozen stiff as a board with your arms wrapped around him.

"Are.. are you still drunk?" Han timidly asks and you absentmindedly groan before your movement stops, the boy doing a double take in case you managed to pass out buried in his clothing.

Slowly, cautiously, he pulled you off of him, body curled in disgust due to the saliva staining his t-shirt where your face had been.

Yep. You had fully passed out while hugging him.

"Wow, how much did you have to drink again?" Laughing to himself, he struggles guiding you to the couch to sit down without stumbling over each other.

Propping a pillow behind your head, the boy hesitates, feeling a sort of déjà vu he can’t make sense of. Though quickly enough, he shakes off the phenomenon and begins raising up, but a softness threading through his fingers stops him in his tracks for a second time, and he has to blink multiple times to register what was happening.

Although appearing passed out still, your hand found its way to reach for his, holding onto his pinky so lightly, so carefully. The boy's heart pounded, collecting all of his self control to refrain from making decisions he'd regret.

"Stop. We can’t." Sentence trembling on his tongue, he steadily pulled away, nearly wincing when you shifted slightly.

You were only dreaming, you never would have done this if you were awake, he reminded himself, glancing back to where you lie once more as if you’d magically spring up and announce your undying love for him. Did he want that to happen? No, he’s just joking, just a joke. Right.

It hurts, he can’t name why.

He prays you don’t remember.

"Please tell me why it’s so freaking cold in the middle of July," You mumble to nobody, spotting your cell mate’s cabin mate’s backside crouched over the fire pit. What he busied himself doing you couldn't guess, unpredictably unpredictable.

Curiously, you shuffle to the window, observing the charcoal he added before flicking the lighter and setting the lumber ablaze, flames licking at the dark sky above. Starting at age ten you learned curiosity killed the cat, but never did you think it killed humans as well. That was, prior to Jisung noticing you watching him. Astonishingly, however, he motioned for you to come out, refraining from the average jerk behavior on this occasion.

Unpredictably unpredictable, like you said.

"Have you given up yet? Hating me, I mean." Appearing beside the lawn chair you had cozied into, he tossed a few additional branches into the brewing flames, dropping down to warm his hands. Apparently, you don’t remember. Only Jisung would realize that.

"You talk about it like it’s a choice." Stuffing your hands inside your coat pockets, you avoid him per routine. Confidence comes easier that way, especially with him—someone you’re weak for.

You’d never admit that.

"It’s not?"

Your tongue pokes at the flesh of your cheek, ticked.

"You don’t seem to understand the hell I go through every day I come to school. Han Jisung, you give me every reason to hate you," You state coldly, fists clenching and unclenching where he can’t see.

This argument is fearful. You both glare at anything but each other, turning away from mere face-to-face contact in fear you’d apologize. Jisung is always first to look, first to try understanding.

Those times are never noticed by you, someone who doesn’t give in.

"But we're not in school anymore; we’re free in a cabin in the middle of Gangwon. So could you at least pretend to not hate me?" He looks. Looks at each minuscule twitch of your mouth, the soft cupid's bow perfectly carving your lips. Han scolds himself. He gets lost in you sometimes, a habit. Times that he’s glad you avoid him, unlike now, desperately needing you to see.

"Pretend? Did you say pretend? You’re fucking insane thinking I can just pretend nothing has happened. You think I can walk away from all this like it’s nothing, because I'm nice and sweet and do anything for anybody? You’re heartless, Jisung."

The boy hastily clutched onto the sleeve of your puffer jacket as you got up, fanning flames revealing your broken expression.

You shakily inhale, tears unconsciously slipping down your cheeks. This is the last thing you wanted, to end up crying in front of him. But here you are, walls crumbling down.

"Stop trying to make us right when we’ll lead to a bad ending."

You tremble and his grip loosens automatically, lingering there.

"Look at me."

"Let me go."

"Look at me, please."

You foolishly look like he did. Look and note how deep the pools of dusky caramel dancing in his eyes are. Look and pinpoint the mole residing on the right side of his face, effortlessly close to pretty pink lips. Look and admire the sweet curve of his eyes complimented by the shape of his brows, furrowed with sadness that match the tone you’d heard that day you found him on the swing.

You curse your hiccuping, delving into the softness of his palm while his thumb delicately swipes your tears. He’s warm. Han Jisung, though you never thought you’d say it, is warm to the touch.

"We’re not leading to a bad ending, Y/n. You want a bad ending because of what I’ve done, so you can feel like your anger is justified. This is my fault, and I’ll take responsibility, so give me a chance to fix it and quit burdening yourself because of my mistakes, okay?" He tips his head, tenderly caressing the delicate tear-stained skin beneath your lower lashes.

Today, tonight, everything you ever believed about Han Jisung was proven wrong.

His perception and his kindness, which you didn’t even know existed, forged through the surface and tore your heart in halves. He’d revealed himself to you and in actuality, he always had; you just closed your eyes.

But today, tonight, he didn’t let you close them; he held them open to see him, see his apology, see his acceptance—and it gave you no choice but to comply, to nod your head and trust him, something you’d never done before.

You take a seat again, yet the stifling company isn't stifling anymore, and a sensation akin to relief floods the brisk air surrounding Gangwon cabin. He brings you tissues and you say thank you, it’s new. He smiles and you smile back, it’s new as well.

You’ve never liked things you were unfamiliar with, but this is okay.

For once, being around Han Jisung feels okay.

"..Did it hurt?"

He blinked, fixating you with a confused stare.

"When I punched you, did it hurt?"

Slowly, his mouth stretched into a grin, chuckling. That’s new too, you think you like it the most so far.

"Like a bitch."

. ..

You’d say your relationship evened out, not finding an incessant need to respond with something even nastier. It was weird at first, coexisting and all. Weird being so friendly, despite the annoying banter paying occasional visits.

Better, better this way.

The moon rose up high in the sky only to settle, and you’d periodically climb to the top of the house in a way Jisung had taught you, hand placed on your back reassuringly as you climbed the cob-web infested windowsill up to the roof. You’d also say that gesture didn’t affect you. You lied.

Nonetheless, the rooftop "dates" helped you appreciate how bright and brilliant the twinkling balls of fire were after being pulled out here where artificial light is infinitely scarce compared to Seoul’s amusement park of electricity.

"That," Jisung points, finger drawing an imaginary line connecting specific stars lighting up the sky. "Is the constellation Cygnus, it’s Greek for swan. When I studied in Malaysia there was a great hill to stargaze, that’s where I learned about them."

You nod, savoring the otherworldly view paired with his voice.

Comfort. He’s comfortable telling you about himself. Your heart feels happy.

"I always thought Lyra and Cygnus would make a good couple," he says, beats of a silence passing before you burst into a fit of giggles, the boy raising up to lean on his elbow appearing quite offended.

A constellation? He thinks constellations would make good couples?

Han Jisung is full of surprises.

"Yah I’m serious! They’d be perfect together! It’d be romantic and sweet and— you’re mean." He whined playfully, suppressing his own laughter noticing how hard you were trying not to laugh.

Quietness, silence if you must, replaces the once child-like conversation. Not the I’m-counting-the-seconds-to-your-funeral type silence that occurred daily prior to your campfire crying/make-up session, but a calm silence.

"Could you imagine what the kids back home would say?" He breathes his words airily whilst admiring your eyes staring up at the sky—twinkling. To him, those eyes hold the galaxy in them. Eyes that weren’t introduced to him until recently, on a night he’s certain he’ll remember for the rest of his life.

"We’re not home, we’re free, like you said." You don’t glance at him and ironically, he can’t stop gazing at you. You move and he watches, enraptured by this. Whatever this may be.

Ah, he’s staring again. Lost in you again.

Abruptly, your dramatic sputtering successfully pulled his head out of the clouds, splatters of water began to dapple your once dry bodies. But as you prepare to ease down and go inside, he lightly grabs your wrist with a sweet look, convincing you, if only for a few minutes, to stay.

"You’re crazy, Jisung." You laugh, expression breaking into the most breathtaking beam Han had ever seen. If someone were to take a picture of Jisung right now, he’s certain his irises would be heart-shaped. And in that moment he swore he’d never fallen in love harder before. Falling in love he’d write about on pages of a journal, photograph with his polaroid back home. Falling in love soaked with rain on the roof of a cabin, stargazing without clocks to tell you what time it is.

You’re drenched, he’s soaked. He wants to kiss you, you want to kiss him. Then you remember you’re still learning this entire "normal people" concept and he’s supposed to tread carefully when it comes to you, but everything fits so well and your lips sort of connect and you can’t let go.

He wishes he could stay in this moment forever.

Your hands in his hair, his cupping your face, head tilted to gain easier access while leaning against his side. Endlessly close.

Han is like spring, like daffodils blooming their hidden colors deep in a field. You might get frustrated searching, but once you find and pluck the flower from long stalks of grass, its petals will shine eternally.

Rain is pouring, pelting his already messy overalls and leaving strands of ash blond stuck to his forehead, lips pulled so high up he can’t think straight.

He smiles and you do too and things feel right, righter than they had in a long time.

Young kids sure act stupid when you leave them alone for too long.

He wouldn’t take it back for the world.

.. .

"Ready to go?" Referring to the doorway, he waited for you by the door, brown hues carrying emotion you chose not to acknowledge.

"Yeah, um, get home safe and text me sometime, whenever you’re not busy, I mean." He nods a response, stupidly happy face earning your harmless scowl in the process of helping push your luggage through the door.

Different. Remarkably different from how things were before. Two months ago you would’ve hated this, hated anything to do with him.

Different, it was different now. Better, better this way, like during stargazing.

He turned left and you turned right, opposite directions towards where your parents stood, towards the cars that would travel far from here. You’d drive, drive and drive back to Seoul carrying new feelings and new conversation, new love.

And from a peculiar standpoint, Gangwon Cabin was your start to finish with Han Jisung. Starting with a punch to the face and ending in a way you could never have imagined that one summer in high school.

FIC TAGLIST. @ren0325 @lix-ables @babrieeee @azurez @soobnny @weird-bookworm @q1sng @telesvng @ren0325 @hello-stranger24

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