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satorugu · 7 months

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In Every Era Part 2 (Sukuna x f!reader)

She is the reincarnation of his love, and he plans to be with her in every era.

PART 1 HERE

Warnings: Blood, violence, fighting, angst, lots of fluff

Note: The readers technique relates to ice and being able to lower the temperatures around her enough to create it. If the text is italicized it is one of the dreams she had. All take place during the Heian era, both Heian era and the version of Sukuna in Itadori's body is included. Takes place during the Shibuya Incident, and quotes the episode's sub at times.

The dreams hadn't stopped.

First, it was that night, the night she fell asleep in his arms.

Then she had another one following it.

Then a third.

It was always a memory from her point of view, so vivid she felt she could still feel his touch when she woke up. They were small, but they got her through the night, always sleeping straight through it.

That kiss was imbued with cursed energy. She didn't know how, but she knew that had something to do with it.

She couldn't take her mind off of it.

Every single night.

"Curses and mutations are mindless, you don't need to harness much cursed energy to exorcise them, although it is made out to be that way," Sukuna said. "If you make a hit on them before they can attack you, you have a better chance at survival."

She was sitting on his lap, up upon his throne. His body heat radiated onto her shoulders, his strong abdomen pressed against her back.

"Is there a reason you're sharing this with me?" (Y/N) asked curiously.

"So you will utilize this information when the time may come my dear," he told her. "Aim for the head."

"I don't think it will ever come," she laughed.

"You are correct to assume that," Sukuna said, putting a hand on her waist and pulling her closer to him. "I won't allow for anyone to harm you."

This was a trick.

The King of Curses wouldn't and couldn't possess emotions like these. He murdered hundreds of thousands, known to be the most powerful sorcerer in history. He needed something from her, to get her to trust him so he could use her and kill her afterward.

These memories were false, she was sure of it.

So she began avoiding Itadori, training after hours and for longer durations to be able to both strengthen herself and not be confronted by the eyes below his. In the end she would return to her dorm exhausted, forgetting that when she fell asleep she would be greeted by what she fled most.

Then a week had turned into a month.

"Master Sukuna had a gift delivered to your dressing room," the maid said almost timidly to (Y/N), as she bowed her head.

She made an emphasis on the fact it was in her dressing room rather than her bedroom. Being that her quarters were Sukuna's, the only part of the palace that was officially hers was her dressing room, which translated to a massive closet. It was filled to the brim with the nicest jewelry available in the lands, along with dresses he had especially picked out for her. It was also a known fact that the garden belonged to (Y/N), although it wasn't claimed by her. She fell in love with the area, so he made it off limits to others.

Unfortunately for her, he was away, handling a nearby village.

Two more servants gathered at the large double doors that led to the dressing room, opening them for her.

Inside was a large bouquet of flowers, white at the tips that slowly faded into a reddish-purple. It was as if they were glowing, vibrant and perky underneath the lighting. The vase was a piece within itself, like clear vines that curled around the stems of the flowers and bunched them all together.

Next to it sat a scroll, bound together by a cursed energy imbued seal. She was quick to unravel it, reading the hand-written, inked message.

'Although I am far away, I will remind you of my love.'

'These flowers are eternal, they will forever stay by your side, just as I will.'

'Sincerely, Ryo.'

She didn't think much of the dream, assuming it was some way of trying to make her think he actually loved her. Instead, she lingered around the campus after hours, honing a new ability with her ice technique. Once she grew sleepy, she returned to her dorm, entering the dark room to see something glowing on her desk.

It was a vibrant and perky flower, with white at the tips that slowly faded into a reddish-purple. While it didn't sit in a vase, it was unnaturally filled with life, acting as a light in pitch black atmosphere.

She thought she was hallucinating, reaching out a hand to pick it up, hoping it would dissolve as soon as she touched it.

The flower sat in her room for a week after that, as she continued to deny the significance behind it.

(Y/N) thought she could get out of having to see Itadori, but it seemed otherwise when another crisis hit.

A large curtain was cast around Shibuya, along with one at Meiji-Jingumae Station. Reports that mutated humans were attacking civillians inside were quick to spread, and both (Y/N) and Itadori were sent to handle it.

"I'll deal with the mutated ones, you search through the station for anymore hostages," she told him quickly, hoping they wouldn't have to interact much.

As soon as the two had met up inside the city, the eyes underneath his own appeared. They felt familiar now, a burning reminder of the dream she had the previous night.

They were in his bedroom, if it even could be called that.

It was larger than the average, with a desk that sat by an extravagant stained glass window, and a large table towards the center. The bed for the two of them sat against the wall, both of them already out of it, yet choosing to stay in one another's company.

Sukuna stood around the table, eyeing a set of scrolls as his wife sat at his desk. The chair was far too big for someone of her size, which he grew to love.

“I want to perform a binding vow between you and I,” he started.

“A binding vow?” (Y/N) asked, having yet to take her eyes off what she was reading.

“A pact bound through Jujutsu, except this one has specific terms accounted with it.”

As the words left his mouth he slipped his hand around her jaw, taking her by surprised as she looked up at him.

"I want to be with you in every era, as you pass, and once you are reincarnated. We will be bound together, it will be destined for you to wed me."

"And it's consequences?" she wondered.

"There are none, this vow is unable to be broken, it will see through that we are meant to be," Sukuna said. "And that you will remain mine."

She wasn't that knowledgeable on binding vows like the one he described, except for the fact it was supposed to leave a mark on your wrist. (Y/N) didn't have one though, so she assumed it was false.

A mutated curse barreled towards her, shards if ice being driven through it's skull as her pink haired friend ran down the hall. She flipped over it's corpse as it fell to the ground, attacking the others before they could make a move on her, and aiming for their heads.

The efficiency behind it was impressive, as she scolded herself internally for doing as the King of Curses had once advised.

And yet she continued for what felt like an hour, going through the motions up until the lights flickered off and she could hear fighting in the lower levels of the station.

Something was off.

(Y/N) jumped down the set of escalators and began running through the station that was almost unrecognizable. She could tell Itadori had fought here, as the remains of his strength imprinted different surfaces.

She was following her gut at that moment, turning down a set of halls until she saw a light bloom at the end of one. She could feel the heat as she got closer, as it formed an orange and yellow blur.

Screams came after the flames.

Two girls who had somehow survived being burnt alive, each coughing and holding onto one another.

As she turned the corner she saw him, Itadori, laying against the wall unconscious. He was littered in cuts, specifically his shoulder which was bleeding out. A special grade curse, Jogo, stood over him, a finger in his hand as he slipped it down the pink haired boy's throat and tilted his head back. She recognized him from the time he fought Gojo, as her eyes lingered over Itadori's figure.

(Y/N) could see the markings on his face.

She thought she might throw up.

"Don't waste my time," the special grade squinted is eyes at the three of them.

He went to lift up his arm and attack, only for it to begin bleeding out in front of him.

"I'll give you one second."

It felt like everything had frozen in place.

Silence in the dark hallway.

"Move."

The special grade fearfully jumped back, now a line of four.

(Y/N) felt her hands tremble, as sweat formed across her forehead and her heartbeat picked up in her ears. They were all that way, as the figure slowly stood up and brushed himself off.

Strength of a different kind than Satoru Gojo.

Overwhelmingly evil.

Fear that even the slightest move could lead to death.

He began to come towards them, as the wounds across his body healed themselves.

As his footsteps grew louder, she felt as if she might pass out.

Then they stopped, and he brushed his hair back in orderly fashion.

"You hold your heads quite high."

That voice.

It felt like there were invisible hands that wrapped around her back, guiding her down to a bowing position without control over her own body. She ended up in the same formation as the other two girls, as a wave brushed over top of the four that would have killed them.

"Did you believe taking one knee was enough?" Sukuna questioned.

The top of Jogo's head was cut off, considering he only kneeled. It was similar to a volcano, purple blood spewing out the top as he bled out.

"The greatest men bow the lowest, or so it goes. I see you value your heads quite lightly."

She could feel him looking down at her, as she stared at the cold floor and begged that whatever this was wasn't real.

She was terrified.

"You brats, I'll start with you," he said. "You wished to speak to me, yes?"

The girl nodded, tears staining the concrete surface below her.

"I'll grant you a fingers worth of audience. Now speak."

"Below us there's a man in monk's robes with a suture across his forehead," the dirty blonde began to say. "Please kill him, please free Geto-sama."

(Y/N) recognized that name, although she thought the man who had it was dead.

"We know the location of one more finger," the girl added. "If you'll kill that man for us, we'll tell you where it is."

"Raise your heads."

(Y/N) still kept hers down, although she could see the two girls raise theirs through her peripheral. It was a moment of relief, as he seemed to have agreed to their terms.

Red.

The head of the brown haired one next to her burst into nothingness, blood coating the other girls face as her corpse fell backward.

(Y/N) felt it splatter onto her uniform, shock pulsating through her veins as terror overrided her senses.

"MIMIKO!" the blonde screamed, shaking the lifeless body next to her.

"Did you think a measly one or two fingers would grant you the right to order me around?" Sukuna asked with amusement in his voice.

It seemed the girl couldn't care less, continuing to scream out her friends name.

"How offensive."

"SUKUNA!" she cried out in anger, slipping out her phone. "DIE!"

As soon as the words left her mouth, it sounded like a blade had cut through something. Similar to the one she heard months ago, when he had saved her.

Then, it sounded like several cuts going at someone at once.

One corpse turned into two, except the blonde had no remains. He killed the both of them without lifting a finger, a copious amount of blood being the only proof.

"You all are desperate," Sukuna turned to Jogo almost knowingly.

(Y/N) felt the invisible hands that once held onto her gently guide her to sit up again, looking at the King of Curses.

"This is the reward for the cursed fingers, come at her," he said, making eye contact with her. "If you manage to land even a single blow on her, I'll work under you all."

"What?" (Y/N) said under her breath, she felt like she couldn't breath.

Jogo slowly looked at her, as if he was making up his mind.

There was no way he was considering this.

"You're true to your word, yes?" he asked Sukuna.

No.

(Y/N) stepped back, like her legs were going to come out from under her at any second.

This was suicide, she couldn't fight him.

"Yes."

Jogos demeaner changed, as Sukuna's hands remained on his pockets and the curse went to face her. He held out his hand, a ball of fire forming within it, as (Y/N) tried to conjure ice in her own.

Again she was airborne.

Too quick for her to react as it all happened at once.

A familiar pair of arms held her bridal style, as she felt herself rest on his chest. It was cold, the fall wind curling around the two as they had fled the building.

He casually dodged them vast amount of fire-charged bullets being sent at him, as he looked down at her.

"Your avoidance has been quite amusing, I see you don't understand yet," Sukuna said, his tone changing into a softer one.

"What have you been doing to me?" she spoke boldly, like a wife would to her husband.

It made him smile, as he leaned on the edge of a building that Jogo shot more bullets at. Soon enough they were inside of it, Sukuna casually walking through a corridor as fire burned around them.

"That's my thank you for ensuring you sleep well?" he spoke teasingly. "I've been restoring your memories, although I knew you would doubt them to the best of your ability."

"They're not real," she mumbled, forgetting what he was capable of.

"And yet how relaxed you are in my hold says otherwise, little one," he said. "Your body reacts naturally to my touch."

(Y/N) opened her mouth to reply but the words never came out, as he jumped through the window of the building and met Jogo's fist. Sukuna was currently holding her securely with one arm, taking up the curse in hand to hand combat. He was quick, catching every single one of Jogo's attempts before holding onto his hand and slicing through his arms with his cleave technique.

The Special Grade was sent flying back, as he shot another beam of fire energy out of his head and (Y/N) watched it blow a whole through a building.

She had never seen a fight like this before.

Sukuna caught up with Jogo, taking his free hand that wasn't carrying her and wrapping it around his cape, throwing him down towards the streets. Smoke emitted from the area that he hit, as he continued to bounce off of it from the force before Sukuna came at him again. This time, he bashed his head into the ground, taking them below the level of the city floor.

She felt the King of Curses abdomen tighten against her side, as he laughed to himself. (Y/N) wasn't looking at him though, as her eyes were on the curse that hadn't landed even a single speck of dust on her.

His free hand slipped underneath her jaw, turning her head to face him.

"Impressed are we?"

Suddenly everything around the two seemed to burst into flames, as the blue skinned curse screamed out and flooded the street with Lava.

This was hell.

Sukuna didn't even react, as a wave of it blanketed over them, yet never touching their skin. He jumped up onto a building that was soon crumbling underneath the hot liquid as well, continuing to dodge without question.

The entire city was on fire, as hands made out of lava held onto two office buildings and lifted them up out of the ground. They surrounded the both of them, Jogo standing on a rooftop in front.

(Y/N) thought she was dead.

Out of pure instinct she took her arm around Sukuna's neck, burying her head into his chest and squinting her eyes closed.

It was only when she heard the sound of the buildings being bashed together, that she realized what she had done. Instead of feeling the impact of her skull being crushed, she felt a delicate kiss be pressed to the top of her head. A large hand then held her hair in a comforting manner, keeping her against him.

"Do you trust me, little one?" he asked her softly, low enough that Jogo couldn't hear.

"Yes."

(Y/N) felt weightless, like she was on one of those amusement park rides that threw you up into the air. Except for the fact that there was no harness, and nothing holding her anymore. Sukuna had thrown her up so far she felt she might touch the clouds, watching his figure dart towards the curse and throw him into a sky scraper.

She could see Jogo come out the other end of it, soaring through the air as Sukuna stood above him. The King of Curses drove his hand into the Special Grades head, sending the two through a roof of another office structure.

Meanwhile (Y/N) began to descend, screaming out and watching as the windows on each level shattered with each level Sukuna shoved him through. She grew anxious as time passed and nothing happened, until the bottom of the building burst out into flames and traveled upwards. She could make out the smaller details of the city now, as she picked up speed in falling and felt the wind course through her clothes. Her best bet was trying to use her ice to impact the fall, although she became distracted by what happened before her.

The building that Jogo had blown up began to form into a ball of fire, and Sukuna was nowhere to be seen.

Or so she thought.

She was trying to conjure up enough cold air around her to form the ice needed to brace her, but knocked into something else, throwing her off guard.

She wasn't surprised when she felt his heartbeat against her side again, but he moved at unregistrable speeds.

Suddenly they were on the ground, in the middle of the street, underneath the meteor Jogo was creating. All of the people around Sukuna froze in place, fear evident in their eyes.

Everyone knew who he was.

"I hereby forbid every person in a 100-meter radius from moving until I say 'now," he started. "And of course, I'll kill anyone who violates that rule."

The silence was horrifying, no one daring to take a step.

"Not yet," he teased.

(Y/N) could feel his hands underneath her weight doing something, as if he was now controlling the ball of fire above them.

"Still not yet."

The ground began to tremble, as it came closer.

"Now."

The sound was overwhelming, as Sukuna brought himself up above it as it crushed everything beneath. He sat down on the meteor, adjusting (Y/N) so she was sitting in his lap, his hands around her waist. Jogo was in front of the two, having yet to turn his back around.

The atmosphere around them was a swirl of orange smoke and broken glass that looked like stars. It floated gently in the air, as more debris from the architecture around them crumbled.

"I've grown tired of this, so I will fight you with your own specialty," he said, allowing for (Y/N) to get up as he stood and faced the Special Grade.

She stepped back, quick to cool the temperatures underneath her feet so she wouldn't burn.

Fire began to emit from his fist, beginning to curl around his figure.

"Arm yourself."

Jogo formed a small sphere of fire in his hand, as Sukuna stretched his own out to form an arrow.

The Special Grade burnt to ashes within a moments notice, while the King of Curses turned around to face the woman behind him.

"Your denial is in vain," he said. "There is nothing I am not capable of, and your death would have already occurred if i wished for it. In your moments of fear you trusted me by instinct, the vow formed between us guiding you to me."

"I don't understand."

"Because you don't want to," he corrected, coming closer to her. "Allow me to show you."

The king lifted her jaw up, taking his hand around the side of her face and kissing her lips.

It felt unworldly, as she slowly returned it and could feel him smiling. Her wrist suddenly tingled, making her to break away to see what caused the sensation.

It was a mark on her wrist, the same one that was on Sukuna's forehead.

"I will love you in every era," he said, taking a step back.

The markings on his face faded, his hair returning to hanging down.

"What happened?" Itadori asked.

She looked into the eyes underneath the original pair, not knowing what to say.

But she understood now.

A/N: I have a part 3 in mind. If you're interested let me know!

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cherienymphe · 1 year

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Basic Training IV (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: mentions of NON-CON, DUB-CON, mentions of MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, mentions of forced pregnancy, mentions of forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @whimsicalrogers

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

Jane was the one to greet you this time.

“You’ve been eating!”

She looked happy at that, smiling at you as she came to take the empty plate. You didn’t return it, mind wandering to Peter. He’d left days ago, and as thankful as you were for the solitude, you couldn’t help but worry. Once you’d started actually eating, it was like you couldn’t stop. Your body started craving food again, and it was then that you worried you might’ve been…tricked.

Peter said he was going to check on your mom, but how could you know that was true? After all, he was the reason you were even here, and he hadn’t done a single thing to show that you could trust him. In fact, all he’d shown you was the complete opposite. Everything that had happened showed you that you shouldn’t trust him…ever.

“Steve will be happy,” she continued, moving to unlock the bathroom. “You have a big day ahead of you, so you’ll want to scrub good.”

You frowned at that, following her into the bathroom.

“What do you mean?”

Were you leaving this room?

“You’ll be leaving this room today,” she answered your silent question. “You’ll be helping out in the garden with me and Sharon.”

Another woman, another name.

You repeated it to yourself, trying to keep count, and including yourself, that was five women. Which meant five men…at least, but then you thought about the day Peter had shown you Margaret, and there were men there you hadn’t even seen, so there was definitely more than five. The thought overwhelmed you, and you struggled to swallow.

Jane told you about what you’d be doing as you bathed, and when you were done, she had a dress laid out for you on the counter. You eyed it, hesitantly putting it on, confusion flowing through you. When you looked at Jane, it was the first time you noticed she was wearing a dress too. That’s all she’d been wearing, you realized, and so you didn’t question it.

Jane took your arm as she unlocked the door, and it hit you then that you were finally leaving this room. The thought had you shaking, and Jane rubbed your hand in what was probably meant to be a comforting gesture. As you glanced over your shoulder at the bedroom, she closed it, speaking.

“Normally, you’ll make sure the bed is made when you first wake up…”

Your eyes met hers as she continued.

“…then you’ll come downstairs and get started on breakfast, but seeing as it’s your first day, and you’re still adjusting, things will be a little different.”

You couldn’t stop frowning at her words, wracking your brain at all of this. You didn’t understand anything, and you looked around as she guided you down the hall. It didn’t take long to realize the house was large, and if you had to guess, this was more of a wing than a simple hallway. The thought was overwhelming, and again, you thought about what an escape attempt would even look like in a place like this.

Jane was talking to you as you walked down the stairs, your eyes roaming over pictures that lined the wall. Some were faces you recognized, like Steve and Margaret with a baby in her arms, and some you didn’t recognize, like a brunette man and woman with strawberry blonde hair. Still, it was all pictures of seemingly happy couples posing for the camera, and considering the reality behind the pictures, the sight made your stomach churn.

“We’re going to get you something in your stomach first, and then we’ll go to the greenhouse.”

She was leading you to what you assumed was the kitchen.

“I would’ve brought you food in bed, but…”

She trailed off, looking…worried.

“Steve feels like you’ve been adjusting long enough, and he wants to see you contributing right away, so…”

Steve.

He was clearly the mastermind behind whatever this was, and it only made you more wary of him. You looked around again, taking in the house, and you were surprised at how…nice it was. You didn’t know why, but for some reason, you were expecting some rundown house in the backwoods of this town. Considering how nice the room you’d been staying in was, you didn’t know why it didn’t occur to you that the house would be even more impressive.

The amount of money that went into this place hinted at the amount of money they had…and that terrified you.

The kitchen wasn’t empty when Jane guided you to it, and you blinked at the sight of two women, one of them familiar. You tried not to stare at Margaret, but it was hard. The first time you’d seen her, she’d been naked and was being brutally raped by her so called husband. You swallowed as her eyes met yours, a warm smile on her lips.

“This must be Y/N,” she said, and you were surprised by how…calm she sounded. “We’ve been dying to meet you.”

She pulled you into a hug before you could react, and you didn’t exactly hug her back, but she didn’t seem to care. The other woman in the room barely acknowledged you outside of a tight smile, more preoccupied with whatever she was cooking.

“I’m Margaret, but sometimes I’m referred to as Peggy,” she continued, and you nodded.

She glanced at the other woman, and seeming to get the hint, she turned to face you. You noted how pretty she was, but it was a cold kind of beautiful, the kind that made her seem equally terrifying. Her red hair spilled over her shoulders in pretty curls, and her green gaze was unwavering.

“Natasha,” she introduced herself.

You realized that this was Nat…Bucky’s wife. The same woman who had been down in that basement for almost four months, and you looked at her with a gaze that bordered along awe. You hadn’t even lasted a week, and you found yourself feeling incredibly…inferior at the moment.

“Y/N and I are going to be helping Sharon in the garden,” Jane told them as she started to fix you a plate of food. “Something small to get her into the swing of things until Peter comes back.”

Natasha snorted at that, but otherwise said nothing, and you curiously eyed her.

“He’s just off taking care of something for Steve, but he’ll be back in no time,” she told you, turning to you with a smile.

You wondered if that was what Peter told Steve, or if that was simply the message Steve conveyed. Again, you found yourself wondering who Peter was lying to. You or them? You gave her a tight smile in return, and she urged you to go in the hall, promising that she’d be right out. You hesitated at first, but eventually did, and you slowed when her hushed voice carried.

“We’re meant to be welcoming, Nat,” Jane told her.

“Welcoming,” the redhead scoffed. “Right.”

There was a brief silence before she continued.

“Steve wants her out and helping out because he likes being in control, but she’s not okay,” you heard her say. “She’s not ready.”

You heard her roughly put something into the oven just as Margaret spoke.

“Keep your voice down,” she quietly told her.

“He’s not here.”

“…but Tony and Stephen are,” Jane said. “Thor too. If Steve thinks she’s ready then she’s ready, and that’s that.”

Jane joined you moments later, a soft smile on her lips.

You didn’t mention the conversation you’d heard, and neither did she. After eating, Jane took you through the house, giving a brief tour along the way, and you were finding it hard to remember the layout. When Jane guided you through a side door, you were surprised to find it attached to what was obviously the greenhouse. You remembered seeing a few gardens in the backyard, and you frowned.

As if reading your mind, Jane spoke.

“You’ll be outside helping in the other gardens one day, but, for now…”

She didn’t need to finish the thought. They were afraid you’d make a run for it, and honestly, if you were outside, right now, you probably would. The thought of getting caught and thrown back down into the basement made you shudder though, and you winced.

“I know this is a lot,” she finally said after some time, looking at you with an honest expression for the first time since you woke up. “…but you’ll get used to it.”

You didn’t know why, but those words made your eyes water, and you looked away.

“Hey, hey,” she softly shushed, reaching for you. “It’s going to be okay.”

You shook your head, the tears spilling over, and Jane tried to quiet you.

Your chest grew tight, and the greenhouse felt smaller all of a sudden, like the walls were closing in. The idea that you would get used to this, that this nightmare wouldn’t even be that one day but instead something you saw as your normal life, it was too much. You thought about that picture of Margaret and Steve and their baby, and you wanted to be sick.

Jane was calling your name.

“Y/N, look at me,” she softly demanded. “You have to stop crying. You have to-.”

“What’s going on?”

You jumped at the new voice, and you froze, pressing your hand to your mouth just as Jane looked up. The fear in her eyes waned some, and you didn’t miss the way her entire demeanor softened. She swallowed, briefly glancing at you and rubbing your shoulder before lifting her gaze again.

“She’s still adjusting, Thor,” she slowly told him, gaze almost pleading. “She-she just needs a moment.”

She turned you around so you both were facing him, and she wrapped her arm around you, holding you close.

“Right?” she asked you.

You looked at her before looking at…Thor.

He was huge, and it wasn’t in an insulting way, but more so an observation about his build in comparison to Jane’s. His blond hair brushed his shoulder, and it was partially pulled back out of his face. He didn’t look real, blue eyes standing out so much, and you pressed your lips together as he eyed you. You didn’t know how to take him, but considering he was here with the rest and doing what everyone else was, you decided not to trust him.

You remembered that Jane had asked you a question, and you nodded.

“Use your words,” she whispered, squeezing your arm.

“Yes,” you quickly said. “I just got overwhelmed.”

Thor didn’t respond right away, and you were terrified of what he might do or say. It wasn’t lost on you though that Jane didn’t seem as scared as you. She was very much relaxed against you, and when Thor leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead, you surmised that this was her husband.

“It’s a lot, young Y/N, but with my beautiful Jane here, you’ll catch onto the flow of things quickly.”

You didn’t miss the way Jane smiled at him, and it left a bad taste in your mouth. When he looked at you, you froze under the weight of his gaze. His demeanor was friendly, and you definitely weren’t as nervous around him as you were with Steve, but outside of the obvious, there was something about him that unnerved you.

He tapped Jane’s chin before turning away, and it was only then did she exhale. She rubbed your arm again, assuring you that you were okay, before turning you back towards the plants.

You’d been helping out around the house for two days when Peter finally came back.

You didn’t know he was back, of course, in the kitchen with some of the other women and getting breakfast started. You were with Sharon, Natasha, and Pepper. You’d met Sharon in the greenhouse the other day, the blonde woman welcoming you with a small smile. You didn’t know how to take her, and she seemed to think the same of you.

Pepper seemed stern, like Natasha, but kinder. You’d messed up quite a few times over the morning, and as annoying as you knew it had to be, she hadn’t said a single negative word. It took you longer than you wanted to admit that you recognized her from the pictures on the wall, cuddled up next to a brunette man with a goatee. You eyed her strawberry blonde hair.

“Here,” she told you, handing you some cut potatoes. “Toss these into the pan.”

It wasn’t lost on you that they were giving you tasks that didn’t require some sort of sharp object, and it was almost flattering to think they thought you had that in you. You weren’t so sure. Sharon was chopping some more as you did as Pepper instructed, and it wasn’t long after that that you heard her exclaim. You looked over as she hissed, and you stilled at the sight of the blood on the counter.

The blonde was holding her hand under the sink with Natasha’s help, and you faintly recognized that Pepper was saying something to you.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of the blood, gaze roaming over it as crawled along the surface…the same way it had crawled away from Pietro’s body. You shakily reached out, grasping the counter, and you couldn’t make out anything in the room. All you could see was Pietro’s limp body sprawled along the pavement, and you sharply inhaled.

You blinked, eyes stinging, and you felt a hand on your arm.

You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head, but instead of darkness, you saw Wanda collapsing after Bucky had shot her. You saw how easily and quickly she’d died, and it was like you weren’t even in the kitchen anymore. You were running through the trees with MJ, her hand tightly clasped with yours…until it wasn’t.

Someone was calling your name, and you didn’t register why your knees were hurting until you opened your eyes to see that you were on the floor. You tried to stand, but you couldn’t, collapsing every time, and it took you way too long to realize what that loud wailing noise was.

It was you.

Your chest was hurting so much, and Pepper and Natasha were trying to shush you, but you couldn’t stop. Your vision was blurry from your tears, and you held your head in your hands. You were shaking so bad, and you slid down to the floor, forehead grazing the tile, and Pepper’s voice was in your ear.

“Y/N, you have to calm down,” she shakily told you. “What’s wrong? Tell me what’s wrong, so I can help you.”

“She needs to be quiet,” you heard Natasha say, her own voice sounding off. “…before…”

“What’s going on in here?”

You recognized that voice, and it only made you cry harder. None of them answered right away, too stumped by Steve’s presence, and the only sound for a few moments was that of your sobbing.

“She… We don’t know,” Pepper finally said, her hand on your back. “Sharon cut herself, and then she just… It triggered something, I guess.”

You could hear his heavy footsteps nearing you, and he sternly told Pepper to move. She did, and when Steve’s hand made contact with your arm, you screamed. You hadn’t meant to, the sharp sound escaping before you could stop yourself. You pushed yourself away from him, but with nowhere to go, you only pushed yourself against the cabinet. Your nails dug into Steve’s arms as he tried to grab you, and you were crying so hard you couldn’t catch your breath.

“Maybe you should get Peter,” you heard Natasha hesitantly suggest. “He just got back, didn’t he?”

You could only assume Steve took her suggestion because you didn’t feel him anymore. You pressed your hands to your mouth, trying to quiet yourself, but you couldn’t stop. You kept seeing their bodies over and over again, MJ’s face as she pushed you away. The blood on your hands…

You felt yourself tilting again, about to sink back down to the floor, when someone stopped you.

Hands were on your face, wiping your tears away, and a familiar voice was shushing you. Peter’s lips brushed your ear as he leaned in, and one of his hands slid to the back of your neck. He softly said your name, once, then twice, before telling you that you were okay. When he pulled away, he wiped your face again, and you peeled your eyes open.

Your gaze met his, and Peter tilted his head at you.

“You’re okay,” he gently told you, a small smile on his lips. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re dead,” you choked out. “They’re dead-they’re gone!”

“I know,” Peter said, pulling you against him. “I know.”

You could feel his hand on the back of your head, the other rubbing circles into your back. He shushed you, standing and forcing you to stand with him. He held your face in the crook of his neck, and you could faintly hear Steve’s voice as he said something. Peter said something back, but you couldn’t make it out.

You tripped over your own feet as he kept you against him, guiding you out of the kitchen. You almost collapsed again going up the stairs, but Peter kept you from falling. His fingers dug into your waist, and the other hand wrapped around your arm. You were too consumed by the memory of your friends’ murders to care about the close proximity, legs trembling and heart racing.

When he finally got you inside of your room, he didn’t stop you this time when you sank to the floor. Your forehead was pressed to your knees as you brought them up, and you wrapped your arms around your legs. You cried so much your head was starting to ache, and it was only when your sobs died down into soft sniffles did Peter speak again.

“I have something for you…something I think you’ll want to see…”

You slowly looked up at his words, remembering why he’d left to begin with. Peter was standing over the bed, reaching into a duffle bag, and you watched him pull out some pictures. Your lips parted as he neared you, and he knelt before you, handing you the pictures. With one look at them, your eyes watered again, but for an entirely different reason.

It was pictures of your mom checking her mailbox. She had a phone pressed to her ear, and you couldn’t stop flipping through them. You felt Peter wipe your face again as you did, your hands shaky, and more tears spilled over as you studied her face.

“She looks so sad,” you tearfully mumbled. “So worried.”

It was true. You could see it on her face, in her eyes, and it made your heart clench. You couldn’t imagine what she was going through, and you started crying again. It was interesting, because by anyone’s standards, you were in a far worse situation, but all you could think about was what it was doing to your mom.

Peter sat with you as you repeatedly flipped through the pictures, and you wiped your face.

“I’m never leaving…am I?” you asked after some time.

The words came out choppy, shaky, and you looked at him. You held his gaze as Peter reached out to brush away a stray tear, and he moved closer.

“No, pretty girl,” he whispered, shaking his head. “No.”

The pictures fell into your lap, and you dropped your face into our hands. Peter let you cry, and you didn’t know how to feel. You hated him, and how could you not? He was the reason you were even here. He’d wanted you, and so he took you, but then you’d think about Steve and how he punished Margaret, and just how mean he was…and you found yourself wanting to be grateful to be stuck with Peter.

…but you didn’t want to be stuck here, at all.

You felt Peter take the pictures, and you lifted your gaze.

“I didn’t tell Steve what I was really doing…”

You frowned at that, and you realized that Peter had lied to him. Not you.

“So…” he reached out, gently taking your chin as he held your gaze. “This will be our little secret, right?”

You faltered at that, frown deepening.

“If Steve finds out, I won’t be able to go and see her again.”

“I don’t want you to,” you whispered.

It was just as painful as it was exciting to see her and see how she was doing. You weren’t there, and you never would be again, and the thought made you so sad. It felt like you were just torturing yourself, and you shook your head.

“I can’t…” you trailed off, more tears spilling over. “She has no idea if I’m even alive, and I can’t see that.”

Your head drooped.

“I can’t watch her mourn me.”

Especially when you weren’t even dead, and that only made you think about MJ’s parents, Pietro and Wanda’s. They were in the same boat, you assumed, only their children were dead. You wondered what they did with their bodies, wondered if they at least let them be found so they could be buried or if they just… You looked away, more tears spilling over, and Peter pulled you against him when you started shaking.

You could feel your chest tightening again, and Peter pressed his face into your hair.

Sleep was hard to find.

You were on the floor again now that Peter was back, slipping out of the bed the second his breathing grew light. You’d been staring up at the ceiling for hours, thinking about your mom and your friends. It was too painful, but you couldn’t stop, replaying the memories in your head and thinking about how much your mom had seemed to age in such a short time.

It made you want to cry again, and you pushed back the tears, sitting up.

You felt almost…pitiful. All you’d done was cry and mope and lose your mind at the sight of blood. You thought about Natasha, finally putting a face to the name of the woman who’d lasted almost four months down in that basement, and you hadn’t even lasted a week.

You peered over the bed, looking at Peter as he slept.

Yes, he’d done a nice thing, and no, he wasn’t Steve, but that didn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things. Peter could let you go, and he wouldn’t, because no matter how he may have felt about Steve’s methods, he wanted you here. You were here because he wanted you here, and you slowly stood. You knew the door would be locked, but you tried anyway, and you weren’t proven wrong.

You tried to think of where Peter kept the key, and you bit your lip.

Searching for it without turning on a light was nearly impossible. You didn’t think Peter would be stupid enough to just leave it in either of the nightstand drawers, but you were shocked to find them locked anyway. A few tears escaped, and you pressed your lips together. The closet door was always locked at night too, and you pressed your hands to your eyes, swallowing down a sob.

You were just about to try the door again when Peter’s voice startled you.

“What are you looking for?”

You jumped, hand tightening on the knob as you pressed yourself closer to the door. You didn’t say anything, and light soon flooded the room as Peter turned on the lamp. You kept your gaze on the wood, afraid to look at him, and you shuddered when you heard him push himself to his feet. You pressed our forehead against the door, and you flinched when Peter touched your arm.

“Do you want to be sent to the basement?”

Peter’s voice was low, but you heard home, nonetheless, shaking your head.

“Do you want…do you want Steve to tell me to drag you outside, tie you up to a tree and-.”

“No, no,” you choked out, shaking your head. “No.”

“Well, that’s what’s going to happen if he catches you trying to escape…”

You squeezed your eyes shut.

“That’s what would happen if I weren’t a better man, and I told him that I caught you trying-.”

“I’m sorry!”

Tears spilled over.

“Do you know how much I had to convince Steve to let you stay up here after what happened yesterday? He wanted to make an example out of you,” Peter whispered, his fingers grazing your arm. “He wanted to throw you down in that basement for a month.”

Your stomach turned at the thought, and you couldn’t stop crying. You felt Peter take your arm, slowly pulling you to him, and he backed up until he was sitting on the bed, taking you with him. Your head drooped, eyes on your lap, and Peter wiped your cheek.

“Things could be so much worse for you,” he whispered, leaning in, lips grazing your cheek. “I’m trying to help, but you have to help me.”

You sniffed, and Peter straightened the sleeve of your nightgown.

“Help me help you.”

You pressed your hands to your mouth, trying to stifle your sobs, and Peter stroked your face, playing with your hair.

“Okay…?”

You sniffed again, briefly closing your eyes, and you gave him a hesitant nod. Peter sighed, and you felt his hand drift, tracing circles into your back.

“How about this…”

He moved closer.

“You sleep up here, tonight, because now I feel like I can’t trust you.”

“No, I-.”

“Sleep up here with me…and I won’t tell Steve about what you tried to do.”

You froze at his words, blinking, and you looked away. The thought of sleeping next to Peter made you want to be sick, but at the same time, the thought of Steve finding out that you’d tried to escape made you want to die. It made your blood run cold, heart dropping to your stomach, and you slowly looked at Peter.

His brown eyes were warm, no hint of anger in them, and he reached up, gently grazing your jaw with his fingers.

“What do you say, pretty girl…?”

You looked down, heart threatening to leap from your chest, and against what you wanted, you gave him a shaky nod. Peter softly urged you to your feed, gently taking your hand. You couldn’t stop crying, silent as tears spilled over, and Peter shushed you, tucking you in. He sat on the edge, hovering over you with one hand pressed into the bed on either side of you.

His dark brown hair kissed his forehead, and the smile he gave you was meant to be reassuring you guessed.

“This will be our little secret, okay?”

You held Peter’s gaze for a while, playing with the comforter. You wanted to trust that he wouldn’t tell Steve, and even though you didn’t, at least not fully, you also didn’t have a choice. Sleeping next to Peter for one night was nothing in comparison to however Steve would want to make an example out of you.

“Okay,” you quietly agreed.

His smile widened at that, and you remained still as he stood. Peter walked to his side of the bed, the room bathing in darkness before he joined you. He didn’t move closer nor even reach out for you. He stayed on his side as he sought sleep once again, and against what you wanted, your body started to do the same.

#dark!peter parker #dark!peter Parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #dark peter parker #marvel imagine

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themotherofhorses · 1 year

Text

pairing: aemond targaryen x handmaid!reader

summary: just the ol' cliche courting method— wooing your girl with the pretty flowers plucked straight from the garden.

warnings: nothing, just fluff and love and dad!aemond.

notes: i've been gone for over a week, so pls enjoy this small drabble i wrote while watching my poor mother burn her sweet potato fries.

his handmaid's tales | main masterlist

Tangled in Aemond’s hand are six flowers— three red garden roses, two pale-pink peonies, and an anemone that was barely beginning to blossom when he plucked them all from the garden an hour before. Its petals are white like snow and large, and a bit nice smelling too, at least to him.

And thankfully none have fallen droopy already.

He carries them to his room, where he knows his pretty handmaid is. She’s fluffing the pillows, smoothing out any noticeable wrinkles. Her hair is pulled back into a long, thick braid that floods down her back to her waist, and Aemond feels his heart suddenly leaping up to his mouth, striking him utterly dumb in the moment.

Aemond just stands there, appreciating the sight.

A minute later maybe, she glances up, and her eyes meet his, causing a small blush to color both his cheeks.

“Prince Aemond,” his handmaid then curtsies in a manner that reminds him of a highborn riverlands lady. Aemond takes a step forward, clearing his throat. His hands feel clammy now, and he wills himself not to stutter over his words like some stupid and drunken fool.

“Sweet lady of mine,” he says, “though these flowers are only half as beautiful as yourself, it is in my greatest hope that you do me the honor in accepting them.” Her eyebrow lifts and he then feels a little shy. “I-uh, thought you would like them.” Much to his delight, she takes the flowers with a giggle, biting her bottom lip as she raises them for a sniff, inhaling the sweet fragrance of the three red roses.

“Thank you, my prince.”

Smiling, Aemond takes her hand, lifting it up to his lips for a kiss. He kisses her knuckles before dragging his mouth down to her wrist.

“Although, my prince, you shouldn’t have,” she adds.

He tilts his head at that, two fingers brushing against her cheek before stroking a strand of escaped hair. “And why is that, my love?” Aemond asks her. She looks absolutely radiant, he thinks quite happily, with a new glow that glimmers along her cheekbones and plump lips and twinkles within her pretty doe-eyes. Although she always gets like this after every new courting gift he gives, such as newly tailored gowns in rich Myrish clothes and a silver necklace lined in glittering sapphires, as blue and pure as the sea.

“Because I have nothing to gift you in return!”

Aemond laughs.

At that, his handmaid pouts and pulls back from his arms, turning and walking to his desk where a glass vase sits on his desk. It is already filled with fresh water for the flowers. “You think I’m simply jesting but ‘tis the truth, Aemond!” She looks back at him again, falling silent. He can already hear her scolding herself for saying his name aloud like that. “Prince Aemond, I meant…”

“Aemond.”

“You’re my prince,” she demurs.

“Mmm, and the father to those two babies sleeping in your belly.”

Her lips press together in a thin line, in an attempt to remain calm and modest, she knows. She looks so pretty when she does so. He loves her so much it makes his heart sing inside his chest.

My princess. My lady. My wife.

Aemond soon crosses the room to where she stands, wrapping his arms around her waist and shoulders. “You have nothing to gift me? Oh, you are such a silly, silly girl,” he teases, kissing the tip of her nose. “Flowers are nothing compared to the gift you have given me.”

He flattens his palm between the hollow of her swelling belly and tender breasts, hidden beneath her plain servant dress.

“Don’t you remember? Or should I perhaps remind you?”

He leans to kiss her, only stopping when his lips brush softly against hers, and he overhears her breath hitching in her throat. His eye flickers over her face, committing every feature to memory. “You have given me—,” and he drops a quick kiss on her lips. “The gift of—“ and another kiss, “—fatherhood,” and the final kiss is filled with all the burning passion and love and affection and adoration he harbors for her— his maiden far more beautiful than any damn garden.

Aemond hugs his handmaid close, sliding a hand beneath her chin to keep her face upwards to his, and maybe it is just his imagination, but he swears he feels his babes kicking. Perhaps they liked the flowers as well.

After all, peonies tend to be associated with new motherhood and babies and all the happiness he is nowadays experiencing.

tag list for "his handmaid's tales": @aemondsblog @dc-marvel-girl96 @neobanguniverse @missalycat21 @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan @padfooteyes @alexizodd @avidreader73 @the-common-cowgirl @inlovewithhisblueeyes @elegantsplendour @katzarantos @fan-goddess @okfashionista @randomdragonfires @aemvnd @mochimommy2002 @fangirlninja67 @iiamthehybrid @bellstwd

taglist for everything aemond: @randomdragonfires @aemvnd @moonteas @chompchompluke

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond drabble #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #handmaid!reader #his handmaid’s tales #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd fanfic #vic writes 🧸

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mika-no-sekai-blog · 3 months

Text

Word count: 2300+

Warnings: mentions of puking, emotional and mental stress, mixed feelings

Honestly, this part was a pure struggle💦 Except of Rhysand's offer that I wanted in this chapter I had nothing..

Also I've got a little carried away🤷

Part X | Part XII

Two weeks had passed since Rhysand, your brother, brought you to his court. You calmed down a bit, partly accepting the situation and giving him the chance he asked you for. Maybe the powder he mixed every morning into your tea, could have something to do with it. Not even honey could beat over the bitterness that remained on the tongue.

Of course, you could refuse the tea, but you were afraid someone would force it down your throat anyway. You felt Rhysand watching you carefully until the teacup was empty and only then the tension in the room eased. And so dutifully pretending you didn't notice anything, you drank it.

Whatever was that powder for, your desire to return home hadn't changed at all. At this point you felt really homesick, trying to hide it in front of others. It was useless to show your weaknesses, your vulnerability. Nobody would help you get out of here anyway.

You were gradually introduced to Rhysand's friends and family. Some of them claimed to know you since you were a newborn, some seemed to be new additions like Feyre, your brother's mate, and her sisters. Everyone was nothing but nice and friendly to you, but you were still uncomfortable around them.

Every time Rhysand had some free time, he spent it with you, showing you the city or taking you for walk in the large garden around the house while telling you stories of past. Morrigan, your cousin, did the same. They tried really hard to make you remember something.

Even now you were sitting with Mor on terrace of some cafe in the city, river running under it, attracting your attention like a magnet.

She told you that before you had been basically best friends, always spending time together and breaking all the rules parents set. However it didn't help to change your feelings or to be more relaxed with her. It was apparent she had a certain expectations and it made you even more uneasy. Just like with Rhysand.

Today she took you out to drink an ice tea, the drink she claimed to be your absolute favourite one. Before.

After the first few sips you swore never touch it again. It was everything except of delicious or tea.

You tried to keep up with her, listening to all the memories that supposed to be yours, but it felt rather as memories of someone else, someone so different it couldn't be you. None of the things you'd been told so far, felt familiar. It just made you tired and your head threatened to explode with pain.

You were trapped in this strange city, with these strangers. You couldn't sleep, eat nor drink, hardly dragging yourself through the days. Large garden around Rhysand's house took some of the stress away, but it wasn't enough. You needed the forest, your cottage, walks in nature, fresh air. You needed even him, although it hurt to even think about him. The first few days you still hoped he would appear and take you back home, but your hope died like plucked flowers in a vase leaving only a bleeding hole in your heart.

Mor finally gave up and took you back to your brother's house. She had that strange expression that reminded you of a mask holding all her emotions back, only her eyes revealed some sort of sadness. You were sure she would go to Rhysand and tell him about your afternoon, about your lack of response or interest. She always did. You couldn't care less. You weren't here by choice, you didn't want this. None of this.

Letting a sigh of relieve out, you went up the stairs and shut the door of your room behind. You needed to be alone, another thing that was very rare to have here. There was always someone with you and even when they left, you still felt eyes hidden in the dark corners following you around. Were you becoming paranoid? Most likely yes. But the unpleasant ticklish feeling on the back of your neck was always present.

You wanted to curl up in a ball and cry your eyes out, but first you had to go to toilet. This city, this house, all of them reeked of magic so strong that you were nonstop on the edge, hardly managing to hide the nausea from them. Another weakness you didn't want them to know about. A few gulps of ice tea you forced in, left your body, but it didn't help. Real relief never came.

Panting you moved to the sink to rinse your mouth. You rather avoided the mirror knowing what you would see. Dark circles under the eyes caused by bloody nightmares that wouldn't let you sleep, sunken cheeks because you couldn't eat and anything you managed to force down, ended up in toilet as soon as you were in your room. You didn't know how long your body could keep going like this, but you knew it wouldn't be long.

You returned to your room and winced in surprise. Rhysand stood in front of the bathroom door with tortured expression, his brows furrowed, jaw tightened, fingers clenched into fists on his sides. His violet-blue eyes searched yours. He seemed to want to say something, but his lips were firmly pressed together.

Great. Now he knew. You tried to avoid his gaze and get to the armchair near the window. But he stopped you. His arms embraced you, pulling you to his chest. You just stood there, unsure what to do. Even if you tried you couldn't fight him off.

"Tell me what should I do," he whispered to your hair. There was so much pain in his voice. Funny.

As far as you knew, he sincerely cared about you. Problem was you couldn't return the sentiment. No smile or amount of shared memories could change it. You weren't the person he remembered anymore. Asking him to let you go back to your cottage was a waste of time, too. You already tried it and he refused.

After a few heartbeats Rhysand recovered, his hands stopped trembling. Instead he moved them to your cheeks, thumbs caressing them gently.

"I talked with Madja, the healer who visited you this morning," he led you to bed and sat down. You did so, too. "She said you are exhausted and need a good night sleep. She left this tonic to help you sleep soundly." He put small bottle on the nightstand. "Two drops before going to bed would do," he smirked, but his eyes stayed sad.

You looked at vial. Another medicine to control you and your feelings. Even though you knew he meant this well, it only added on your anger. You rather stayed silent, decided to never take the mixture.

He seemed to choose next words carefully. "However she couldn't find a cause for your.." His voice died out and eyes wandered back to bathroom door. So he had noticed it even before. Of course. It wasn't surprising at all. He also knew about the nightmares after all. "Until now I didn't want to pressure you. I hoped you could meet our family, get to know them again and the memories would begin to appear on it's own. But it doesn't work, does it."

You shook head. He gave you another sad smile and looking down Rhys started to play with your fingers. Silence filled the room.

"Aury-"

"Don't call me that," you snapped. You were allergic to that name. Whoever that Auriela person was, she was dead. You weren't her.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I didn't mean to offend you.. It's just.. habit.. kind of comfort. I didn't hope that I would ever see you again or talk to you. But I wished every day you were here with me. I wished you were alive. You and our mother." Tears filled his eyes and he blinked to get rid of them. You didn't react.

High Lord cleared his throat. "I.. Let's talk openly. About everything." He swallowed hard. "I'm trying to understand how you feel, what's going on with you, how you lived all this time.. and I'm terribly failing. Please. I want to understand. Whoever you are now, I'm accepting it. I don't want to change you. I just want my sister back. The closeness we had." He watched you with desperate expression.

You frowned, confused. No matter how many times he reminded you that he was your family, for you they were only words. It'd never occurred to you to try to see it from his point of view. Apparently you weren't the only one to suffer in this situation. Thinking that maybe he deserved to get a chance, that you should give him a chance to get closer, you nodded.

His eyes widened for a moment, then he blinked rapidly and ran fingers through his dark hair. "Okay." He cleared his throat again.

"To be honest I thought you wouldn't accept my offer," he muttered, visibly taken aback by your willingness to discuss things with him openly. "I haven't thought the things over-.. Where to start?"

"How about you tell me what's that powder you add to my drink?" You frowned at him, expecting him to deny it.

"Oh, that," he gave you a small smile, squeezing your hands. "We noticed you are still in pain. Azriel said you seem to have headache constantly. He also suffers from it, so no wonder he noticed the subtle signs. And I quite often saw you wincing while moving around," he explained, noting the disbelief on your face. Then he added quietly. "I'm really sorry for what happened when we arrived. It's all my fault."

You were speechless. It was hard to believe it, but all about the headache and the muscle pain was true. It also made you realise how much they paid you attention even if they weren't looking directly at you. "Thank you," you murmured.

Silence stretched.

Rhysand watched you, pondering. "Would you tell me why.. what causes.." his head tilted in the bathroom door's direction.

Did he have to take out that topic again? You inhaled deeply, preparing for the worst kind of conversation. You wished for Tamlin to be with you. He'd never asked these things. He was very observant and intuitive. He noticed your fear of magic and never asked you why or what caused it. Not that you could explain any of that. He silently accepted that part of you and avoided using powers around you. With him, it was so easy. Everything was easy and full of happiness. You blinked quickly to get rid of such thoughts.

"It's because of magic.." you said, taking your hands from Rhysand's and instead you wrapped them around your chest protectively. "I don't like it. It makes me feel sick. Always did. This city, this house, you all stink with magic.."

Rhysand froze on the spot, he seemingly forgot to even breathe. "I had no idea," he whispered. His scent shifted, the air in your room changed, too. The smell of power disappeared, only the subtle citrus scent remained. After weeks you could finally breathe freely and relax a bit. It felt so good that closing your eyes you smiled. Rhysand's eyes tracked that movement. "Is it better now?"

"Much better. Thank you."

"What happened? You used to have no problems with magic before, even used it yourself."

"I don't know," you answered honestly. Walls around your heart cracked a bit, letting him in. "I don't remember what or who I was before. I don't remember any of you."

This time he only nodded, probably expecting it.

He asked you to be honest, so you were. You almost regretted what you were about to tell him. "All this time it feels as if you were telling me about a life of someone else. I couldn't be more different from the person you knew."

Lowering his gaze Rhysand stood up and strolled to the window. Leaning against its frame he looked out to the garden, his back turned to you. You didn't know what he felt at that moment, but you were torn. He was still stranger to you, yet you didn't want to hurt him. After all you weren't a cruel being and maybe, just maybe, you began to feel a certain kind of affection for him that you didn't want to admit.

"So you really don't remember what happened that night," he asked, snapping you out of thoughts.

"That night?"

"The night our mother died. The night you supposedly died, too."

"I-.." Images of streams of blood staining the ground, running down your arms that you saw in your nightmares, popped out. Pressing fingers to your temple you shook your head to push them away. Rhysand watched you out of the corner of his eyes over the shoulder. "I'm not sure."

"Dear sister," he sighed, his voice suddenly cold and distanced. "Do you know what my powers are? What daemati can do?"

You'd never heard about daemati, but the feeling that you should know that, remained and was strong. It sounded like something you should be afraid of. "No, I don't."

"I can look into your pretty head, see any memory I want, change them if I wish so. I can also crush the minds, but that's not what I'm offering you here. I could try to revive your memories. I could take away the fear that some of them make you feel." He slowly turned to you, watching you with wariness. "Would you like me to try that? Do you want to remember your past life?"

You stiffened, cold shiver running down your spine, breath catching in your throat. Could he do that? And more importantly did you want him to do it? You needed time to consider his offer. It wasn't an easy decision.

"It's up to you. You have as much time as you need." And with these words he left, leaving you alone with your confused mind.

Taglist:

@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay

#english isnt my first language #acotar #acotar fanfiction #sarah j maas #tamlin acotar #tamlin x reader #tamlin #pro tamlin #tamlin fanfiction #tamlin week #rhysand fanart #rhysand acotar #rhysand

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mayaflowerxs · 1 year

Text

WHERE’S THE GROOM?

Synopsis: What was meant to be a simple bachelor & bachelorette party for the wed to be couple. The night ends in massive chaos, how much worse could it get? Oh right, the groom goes missing, the mafia is after you and the wedding is in a few short hours. How on earth will you make it to the wedding on time?

Warning: Humor / SMUTTY / Angsty? LONG Fic, A bit angsty not too much promise, Swear word usage, alcohol/drugs consumptions! TW blood, vomit. Mentions of abortion, pregnancy. Gambling, accidental marriage, stripping, vandalizing and Illegal activity, massive hang over inspired by the movie The Hangover. F!boy & groom!Jaemin, Strict & Maid of honor!reader. Enemies to lovers type trope.

Pairing: Jaemin x f!reader

The phone rang once…twice…thrice

“Hello?” The worried feminine voice says the second they answer the phone. “Hey Angie…” you let out awkwardly. A relieved sigh is heard, a few voices you can’t quite make out in the background but it sounds hushed and you can only assume they’re asking the woman on the phone with you to ask their questions. “Hun where are you? You left sometime last night and you’re no where to be found.” She asks you worriedly.

“Mark nor any of the guys are here, are they with you?” Dejected by the fact that the very man you’re currently searching for wasn’t at the reception, you look behind you. All four guys, beaten and bruised leaned exhaustedly on the beat up car. None being Mark. Checking the time, a good five hours before the wedding starts. There’s no way you could even get there in time nonetheless find the missing groom on top of that. After searching a whole day for him, you wonder if he’ll ever show up. You don’t know how much longer you can go in keeping this reality a secret to your best friend, so with that you decide to simply come out with the truth. “Angie I got to tell you something…”

3 DAYS EARLIER

The time was nearing. Time ticked which meant the stress was at an all time high. Demands were shout left and right, speed bumps are bound to appear and a distressed maid was at the brink of losing it. And as the maid of honor, it was your duty to keep things at bay. As much as you possible could, going through the check list phone calls were endless. Customer service was complete Bull and the amount of patience was thinning each passing second but you pulled through. Because if there isn’t a stable maid of honor, there is no stable bride which means no stable wedding.

“Are the bridesmaid dresses here?” You hear Angie’s mother ask one of the housekeepers. Living in a large mansion Angie’s father gifted her for her wedding gift, the large house is now packed with guests. The wedding coordinator, the stylists for hair, dress, makeup, shoes everything were here and with their many suitcases of items. The gardeners out back finishing the last touches of their work, the ice sculpture was strolled in by the carriers. “What is that doing here?” The large chunk of ice sculpted Mark dipping Angie with a bouquet of roses in her hands. “This shouldn’t be here until the day of the wedding.” Louis the wedding coordinator claps his hands at the men. Shrugging they take a step back. “We were told to deliver it the 10th.” “No, I said the 14th and besides it’s not even the 10th it’s the 11th?!” Sighing he shakes his head and shoos them away. “Esmeralda!” He calls out for one of the cooks, “Put it in the freezer for now.” He says before walking off.

Eyes widened as she takes a look at the large sculpture. “But…how?”

The loud barking of Angie’s Great Dane is heard as he comes hurling in from being outside in the backyard. Trailing in tracks of dirt, everyone is frantic to get him away from the decorations that were mostly of warm/bright colors. Chasing after Billy, the orange cat your best friend insisted on keeping after finding him in the trash can. The two knock into the furniture and even manage to break a vase. “Bobby!” The maid’s mother shouts for the butler. And as the house erupts in chaos, just in comes the happy couple. Hand in hand beaming from ear to ear. “Y/n!” Angie beams upon seeing your frantic state. Rushing over to you, she wraps her arms around you. “Can you believe the bachelorette party is tomorrow? Gosh and we got to be in Vegas tonight!” Only letting out a mere chuckle, with her still hugging you, you quickly extend your leg out to catch the flower vase that was tipped over by her Great Dane.

“Oh Henry! Are you excited too?” She pulls away to hug the large dog. Walking over and grabbing the vase from where it leaned on your foot, you send Mark an appreciative smile. “Sorry about the wreck.” He tells you, shrugging you shove him playfully. “Isn’t that what weddings are about? Stressing the hell out of you until you’re pushed into the arms of hard liquor?” Snorting he nods, “Well at least we have a quick break before the real shit goes down.” “Yeah easy for you to say I don’t see you stressing over what napkins matches the theme color.” Rolling his eyes he grins, “You know Angie is fine with whatever right? We never wanted a big wedding, hell we could’ve just gotten married in a random chapel.”

“Absolutely not.” You frown at the thought. “I’m Angie’s best friend and as her best friend she automatically gets the best quality a best friend could give her which is a fantastic coordinated wedding. The least I could do, now as I told her I’m going to tell you, do not worry, have fun and don’t mess with anything I didn’t approve of you to touch!” Slapping his hand away from the wedding cake that was being strolled in, he winces and pouts slightly. “Geez okay.” He huffs but smiles regardless. “Now let me get back to my duties-“ you move past him and start barking orders again. “Those dresses need to be hanged not a single wrinkle in sight! When I go outside it better look exactly as I saw it in the catalogue. Those petals need to be displayed out on the grass ASAP, chop chop people!”

“I see she’s still the same bossy devil I saw a few months back,” Mark hears his friend mutter. Looking over and seeing Jaemin and the others enter the house he’s quick to greet them. Pat to the back as they grin at him, “Ready for Vegas?” Jeno asks him, “Hell yeah.” He chuckles. “But! Nothing too crazy right?” He points a stern finger at them, “We heard you loud and clear the first sixteen times man promise it’s just going to be a casual night at a casino.” Chenle raises his hand. Grinning he nods, “Alright, Vegas here we come!” Cheering with him, they whistle and hoot until it echoes throughout the house.

Five in the afternoon and it seems like there’s still so much to do. But you could only do so much, “Bitch, I promise everything is under control it’s why I’m here! Isn’t this why I was contracted?” Bobby crosses his arms and looks around for approvals from the other bridesmaids. “Bitch?…” you mutter to yourself, never were you called that before. Couldn’t tell if the gays meant that as an insult or a compliment. Probably neither but as he snapped his fingers and pushed you out the door, he grabs your luggage and hands it to you. “Me and my gremlins here..” pointing over to his employees who wave at you with a smile, “have it all under control. Now all you have to do is have fun and bring the bride in one piece. Remember no bride or groom means no wedding…” walking over to you, he sets his hands on your shoulder with a tight smile on his face. “Which also means, 234 hours spent on this wedding would all go down the drain and if that were to happen then I may just lose my marbles.” He giggles. At loss for words, you only nod at him and walk after the girls with your luggage in hand. “Have fun!” He shouts from upstairs.

Clapping her hands, Angie gets her driver to carry all the suitcases to the black SUV. “Are you girls ready for Vegas!” Letting out a series of cheers, she excitedly walks out the house waving for the rest to follow. And as the car is erupted in loud chit chat, you sit on the side, facing the window with a million worries in mind. Truly hoping, that nothing will go to shit in these last few days.

The hotel was truly luxurious. Arriving just on time, happy you planned accordingly. Going for the next set of agendas, you walk over to the reception. “Hi!” The woman greets, taken aback you chuckle lightly, “Okay um…hello!” You respond back just as enthusiastically. A grin on the clerks face, you give her the name under the rooms registration. “Oh! Ms. Lee, you’re booked for a suite on the twelfth floor yeah?” Nodding, Angie rests her acrylic nails on the marble counter and look around in awe. “Ooh pretty chandelier.” She can’t help but watch in amazement, “yep, pretty.” You say and watch how easily entertained your best friend is. A match made in Heaven with her and Mark whom seem to have freakishly similar personalities, “here’s your key cards-“ “Great thanks!” Grabbing them, you quickly rush the girls to follow after you. Excitedly they do and as all six of you fit into the small elevator, the door opens and proceeds to send all of you upward. And just as it did, in came the groom and groomsmen. “Damn this place is off the charts.” Haechan gasps.

A snorts comes from Mark as he agrees. “You really got it lucky in having a rich father in law.” Jaemin nudges his shoulder. “Hey I make money!” He tried to defend himself. “Yeah, an accountant is alright I guess. But now you’re going to be inheriting his company doesn’t that seem surreal?” Chenle shakes his shoulders. “You’re making it seem like money’s all I’m here for.” He snorts. “Oh of course not you would never.” Jeno pats his shoulder. “But if it was me…” sighing he nods his head. “I’d date any chick, hot or ugly.” “Okay, nice to know.” Mark nods and ignores the crowd of laughs from the guys a she goes to check.

“We have a room with two beds?” “Wait that’s it?” Jaemin cuts in. “I’m sorry, but the only other room registered in your name was just admitted.” Scoffing he looks over to the boys. “Guess the bridesmaids got it before us.” “See I told you, we should’ve gone to a different hotel.” Renjun tells him. “It’s alright,” Mark calms them down. “We can just use the master bedroom-“ “No way!” Jaemin cuts him off. “We’re adults this isn’t a sleep over, ma’am do you have any villas or something?”

“Actually…we do. We have one more.”

“Great we’ll take it.” About to take his card out, Jaemin stops him. “No way you’re paying Mark.” “But-“ “No man this is your bachelor party, we got it…Haechan.” The group looks over at him expectedly. With a huff, he takes out his credit card. “You know my wife’s going to kill me if she finds out.” “Look it’s not going to be swiped until the morning, relax we’ll..take out a loan or something.” Nodding, he gives the clerk his credit card reluctantly. And when given the key cards, Chenle claps his hands . “So! Shall we get this party started?”

Angie made it clear she didn’t want anything too rowdy. Both her and Mark agreed nothing to extreme which meant no strippers. For you, you couldn’t agree more. You never understand why the need for strippers, why the need for body parts to be shoved in your face? Doesn’t seem so faithful given you’re going to get married the next day. Even more when touching is involved. That tradition always seemed bizarre to you, and you were glad the happy couple agreed against it. And so, as originally planned you’d be taking her to a fine and divine hall. A table full of the best pastries, some light music playing and wine for the girls. Presents for the wife to be and some speeches the bridesmaids wrote for her. Something elegant and classy, nothing too extreme.

Getting ready, makeup placed here and there. Heels clanking the floor and dresses being out on along with blow dryers being turned on and vibrating throughout the suite, finally the eight of you are ready. Lip check to make sure no stains are present, last spray of perfume and grabbing purses, you make your way on out. Piling in the SUV, chatter is made until arriving to the hall. Soon after arriving, the bottle of wine and champagne is popped and as the glasses were being filled. You went for a toast. “A toast for our dearest friend, to have the best time of her life during her marriage and a toast to her final day as a non-wedded woman.” Cheering, the glasses are clanked and in did the drinks go into your systems. After a few hours went by, more of that alcohol was drank. And as more gossip was made, louder did the laughs get. Harder did the liquor kick, “I think!” One of the girls raise her hand to gain the attention of the others. “I think! We should go..to the casino!” Immediately the others agree and even though you never put it into your agenda you couldn’t see why not.

Angie, who trusts your leadership skills. Looks over at you with a plead in her eyes. Practically bouncing in her seat as she silently begs for you to agree. Slamming your hand on the table, you nod. “Mm fuck it! Why not!” You manage to slur out and soon your words were followed by a loud chorus of cheers.

An hour before midnight and you made it to the casino. Lights flashed brightly, slightly blinding you. The chauffeur opened the door for you and guided the driver where to park. And as he did that, you got out the SUV and immediately wrapped an arm around your best friend. Noticing a large grin plastered on her face. “Ready to have fun?” You ask her. “Yes!” “Okay then let’s blow our money down the drain!”

NEXT MORNING 8:04 AM

Sun cascading down the large windows, shining brightly on Haechan’s sleeping figure. Wincing when the sun begins to warm his face up does he wake up. Strands of feathers are floating in the air, the pillows on the floor and ripped to shreds. Cushions dismantled, bottles of liquor scattered all over the floor. The walls plastered with paint, the entire villa was flipped upside down. The once clean tidied floor was now in absolute ruins. The portraits once hung up were on the floor and ripped. The wine glasses on the floor a few still holding a bit of the red wine while others were slightly broken. The loud bang of a door closing is what truly wakes Hyuck and gets him off the cold floor. In nothing but boxers, he spits out a chunk of confetti that was in his mouth. Hair covered in silly string and a purple and green bead necklace around his neck.

He felt sore and tense around his shoulders and neck. Possibly from the bad position he slept in, his hair flared up, he turns to look at a mirror near him and notices the condition he’s in. Eyes squinting to limit the amount of light coming in, head buzzing loudly in his head as everything seems to be too fuzzy for him. Feeling the sudden need to whizz, he stands and takes cautious steps to the bathroom. Closing the door behind him and lifting the toilet seat, he lowers his boxers and begins to pee. He’s hung over, he knows that. He’s been through it before and one thing he knows is that he struggles to figure what he hears is exactly true or not. And when he hears the loud hiss, one you can be sure it’s from a snake. He swears there was one in the bathroom with him, but he turns his head to confirm it was all in his head.

He pauses when he sees it though. Huge and in the flesh, the large black, gray and black markings on its skin along with the large size gave it a dead give away on what it was. Watching as it seized up, Haechan widens his eyes and runs out the bathroom, slamming the door shut before it came after him. Frantic and not once looking at his surroundings, he comes hurdling down on Jaemin who is laid on the floor past out. Only, he wasn’t alone. “Ow!” Both bodies let out. Rudely awaken, they go to glare at the person responsible for tripping over them until they realize their current position. Eyes widen the two shove Haechan off them and spring up on their feet. Screaming and shouting, “What the hell were you doing next to me?!” You demand at the blue haired boy. “Me?! Why are you half naked?!” He points at you currently covering yourself with the single white sheet you had around you. “You are too!” Looking down and realizing he was in fact almost naked, only wearing boxers and shorts that he doesn’t remember packing. Widening his eyes, he’s mortified at the possibility that you…and him… “No way!” The two of you shoot in unison.

The sound of cans are rattled along with a loud groan. Glasses propped on their nose and a party hat on their head, Jeno hazily wakes up from his slumber, on the coffee table. “What the hell..?” He looks down at his bare chest. Tapping on the stains on his chest. Lip stains all over his chest, one he does not remember getting at all. Sitting up and wincing when he feels a kink in his neck, he adds pressure on it and notices his surroundings. “What’s…going on?” Looking over and seeing Chenle still passed out on the fucked up couch. Jeno kicks him awake. Whining, he swat at his leg until he’s kicked hard enough on his side. “Ow! What the hell!” Orange hair spiked up, he sits up. The others notice the darkness around his eyes. Smeared with mascara and lipstick this only adds further confusion, and more of the same question. What happened last night?

Tapping him repeatedly, Jaemin gives Haechan a look. “What man?” “T-There’s…” “Theres what?” “A python in the bathroom!” In disbelief, Jaemin blinks a few times before repeating his words. “A python?” Nodding, he glances over at you who only focuses on finding your clothes through the large mess made everywhere. “I think the alcohol really fucked with your head man..” walking over and turning the knob, he opens the door only to widen his eyes upon coming face to face with the snake. “Woah!” Closing it just in time, the loud bang is heard on the door by the sudden impact the snake made when it stroke at him. Laughing, he goes over to the other guys and points at the bathroom. “There really is a fucking python.” Still half asleep and completely hunger over, Jeno rubs his eyes while Chenle rubs his face. “What the fuck happened last night man?” Jeno asks seriously. “Yeah look at this place, for sure they’re going to make us pay extra for this.” Chenle adds. Eyes widening, Haechan rushes over to them.

“Oh no! I’m so screwed, god I’m definitely getting an ear full from my girl!” He hits his forehead. “Where are the others?” Looking around and noticing three were missing from the group, “Maybe they woke up earlier? Went to breakfast?” Chenle says but it seems no one was too sure. “Well you know what!” You interrupt them. “This was just…lovely. So if you don’t mind.” Going to grab your heels you continue to search for one last piece of clothing but can’t seem to find. “Where the hell is my…you know what? I don’t care, good luck. Grab Mark and get his ass straight back home and I’ll be doing the same with the bride.” You salute them and make your way over to the door. And as you do, Jaemin feels his pocket stuffed with something. Brows furrowed, he buries his hand in there and freezes when he feels the material. Taking it out slowly and sees the red thin article of clothing he had kept in his pocket.

“Um y/n…I think I found what you were looking for.” Rolling your eyes, you’re ready to tell him off but pause in horror at the sight. The other guys are shocked to see what he had in his hand, and why it managed to be in his pocket. “Why do you have my thong?!”

Walking out of the villa together, frazzled and utterly flustered, you had ripped your thong out of the insufferable man’s grip. Currently pressing the button on the elevator there’s a silence amongst the group that’s becoming unbearable. And when the elevator opens, you’re all shocked to see a woman currently getting downed on by a dude. “Ok,” you nod and wait for them to fix themselves up and stand side by side. Taking a step in, the air is much thicker this time. So much awkwardness you simply wish to die that very instant. “…so the two of you Huh?” Haechan speaks in regard to you and Jaemin. “Shut up.” You two reply sternly almost instantly, hearing a slap. Haechan receives it by Jeno and a smirk on Chenle’s face. By the time you get off, you make your way over to the cafeteria, it’s packed which means you have to find a seat outside. Busying himself with filling up his tray, both Haechan and Chenle are inside while the rest sit under the small umbrella that doesn’t do a good job protecting you from the blazing hot sun.

“Have you called Jisung and Renjun yet?” Jeno asks Jaemin. “I’m going to now.” “Yeah I should call Angie, tell her what’s going on.” Taking your phone out, you notice the large quantity of text messages from the girls. ‘Hello? Y/n? Are you okay? Where are you?’ Angie immediately answers, ‘I’m okay Angie, just having a rough morning…hey do you remember what happened last night?’ Hearing a chuckle on the other end, ‘Of course how could I not? We all got wasted last night. We went to the casino but I actually left the group earlier because I ran into Mark and the boys.’

‘Hey Jisung, where are you man?’ You hear Jaemin say on his phone call. ‘Eventually me and Mark kinda went somewhere private if you know what I mean,’ rolling your eyes, you smile sheepishly and tell her yes. ‘But we then parted and went back to our own parties. I didn’t see you there and I was told you had met with Jaemin so I didn’t intervene and when it got late went back to our suite. I assumed you’d come back but I didn’t see you here. We have to get going, where are you?’

‘What do you mean you’re on a flight home?!’ You hear Jaemin exclaim. ‘Is Mark at least with you?’ About to respond to her, Jaemin pulls the phone away from him and whisper hushedly at the two of you. “Mark isn’t with them.”

‘Y/n?’ You hear Angie say on the other line. ‘Yeah I’m here, look I won’t be able to make it back with you but I’ll get a ride back from the guys yeah?’ Hearing a teasingly tone to her voice, ‘Ooh of course. Don’t worry you have fun with Jaemin.’ ‘No, that’s not why-‘ ‘Have fun!’ And then the line cuts. Setting the phone down, you watch as Jaemin runs a frustrated hand through his hair and continues to talk with them. ‘I’ll have to call you back alright? Ok bye-‘. hearing Jisung saying wait just before getting cut off, Jaemin sets his phone down. “Relax man.” Jeno pats his back, “Maybe Mark is out somewhere, shopping maybe.” Backing away from his hands, Jaemin gives him a look. “Shopping? Really?” Huffing, Jeno rolls his eyes and takes out his phone. “Fine! I’ll call him and prove to you he’s fine!” A loud clank is heard on the table, two big plates of food was set in front of you. Large grins plastered on the returning boys who take a seat. “So…any news?” Haechan asks taking a sip from his slurpee.

Getting them up to date, a phone begins to ring. Looking at each other, everyone’s head turns slowly at Haechan who happily eats his Mac and cheese. Stopping mid spoon full, he raised a brow. “What?” “What’s in your pocket?” Chenle speaks, staring at the phone that buzzes. Looking down, he takes the device out and sees the caller ID, “Jeno?” Turning over, he sees the look his friend gives him. “Oh! I have his phone you guys!” He flashes it. “Why?” Pausing, he tries to recall the reason for it but shakes his head, “Who knows.” And goes back to eating. Groaning, the group seems dejected before Jaemin grabs a napkin and opens your purse. “Hey!” “Relax I’m getting a pen, what’s up with the crackers in your bag?” He raises a brow at you. “What? There were very good, don’t know where that hall bought them from but for the price they made us pay for ‘em hell yeah I was going to take some with me.” Shaking his head, he tries to ignore what he had just heard and goes to write on the napkin.

“Okay what does everyone remember from last night?” There’s a moment of silence before Haechan speaks up. “Oh! We went to the roof where we took a few shots of Jager.” Nodding. He writes it down. “Jager?” You scrunch your nose in disgust. “That’s…” “what not up to your taste? Miss prissy princess here only ever drinks the finest wine and most expensive champagne?” Scoffing you flip the blue haired boy off. “Okay what else.” “The casino.” Jeno speaks up. “Right!” You pitch in, “Angie said we all ran into each other there. That her and Mark had left together and then came back.” “Do you know what time?” “No, but she said by the time she returned to the group I was gone and had gone off…with you.” Tensing, Jaemin stops writing and pauses. The guys all do too and glance between the two of you. No one still not sure if the two of you really did sleep with each other but little by little, seems to be getting harder to deny that wonder.

Clearing his throat, “Okay…anything else?” Looking at each other and seeing no one was speaking up, Chenle does. “Does anyone actually remember anything from last night?” Everyone groans and shakes their heads. Covering your face with your hands, you feel your hand get tugged harshly by none other than the guy you can’t stand. “What the hell!” “What’s this?” Looking over at what he was staring at, you gasp at the sight. Retracting your hand, you shake your head and say no like a mantra. Horrified, you look over to the boys and raise your hand. “I’m…married.”

“What?!” Erupting in confusion, they start to ask questions they know you had no answer to. And while they continue to wonder what exactly went down, you feel an itch in between your boobs. Digging in your bra and feeling the touch of a paper. Taking it out and seeing it was beige and folded, they all quiet down upon seeing it. “What is it?” Mouthing agape, you look over at Jaemin who feels his heart pick up in speed. Leg began to bounce excessively and palms starting to sweat. Seeing you flip the paper around, his worst fear became true. “We’re married.”

The door to the bathroom is slammed open, pushing a girl in your way to the side ignoring the loud hey she throws out and into the nearest stall you go in. Toilet filling up with your vomit, you grip onto the edge of the toilet as more of the liquor starts to hurl out. Throat tightening and hating the acidic taste, you start to wonder if alcohol was all you had last night. The time seemed to have stopped and every time you thought you were done, you went back to puking again. By the time you were finished, you sat against the wall and closed your eyes. Too nauseous, too weak to even breathe. The room was spinning which only had you wanting to vomit again. Your stomach growled, it twisted and turned. It hurt and as you gripped an arm around your midriff to add pressure it wasn’t helping. You felt as if you were going to die. Feeling as if the world was collapsing on you and after the revelation of your marriage with the very man you can’t stand, the metaphor may not be too far off.

All four guys stand outside the woman’s bathroom. Leaning against the white wall as they wait for you to get out and get a move on. First stop to the chapel where apparently, you and Jaemin had closed the hatchet. When you did, hands slightly wet after smearing your mouth, face, hair everywhere that felt hot and yucky. “You look like shit.” Jeno tells you. Glaring at him, you take another weak step out and take a deep breath. Too out of breath to even utter a word you merely point to the exit and start moving. “How will we even get there? Do we even have Mark’s Mercedes? What if he left with it?” “Haechan why would he leave and not come back?” “Well do you have any other explanation Jaemin? If he’s not here it’s because he went somewhere and no way in hell did he leave without his Mercedes, dude fucking loves that car.”

“Here’s your vehicle sir.” The chauffeur says as he gets out of the vehicle and hands Jaemin the keys. A moment of silence as everyone sends each other looks. “Thanks!” Jaemin says and walks off into the direction of the cop car. “Uh Jaemin-“ “Don’t question it, get in.” Panicked, you whisper shout at him. “Are you crazy?! This is highly illegal!” Rolling his eyes, he shoots you a bored look. “God can you stop being so stuck up for one second? If we want to find Mark then we better get in and go to that chapel. After that we can just drop it off,” opening the car door he gets in followed by the other guys. Scoffing you look around you in disbelief. “No one else sees the fuckery?” “Y/n get in or I’m leaving you!” Jaemin shouts. Stomping your foot, you open the door forcibly and get in, in the back seat. “God damn it!”

Traffic was a pain. The loud chorus of honking continuously went off, a jam a few meters ahead causing the entire city to stop. The more the drivers honked the worst your head ache became. “Fucking hell can’t you find any other way to get through?” “Does it look like there is?!” Jaemin snaps back. Cursing underneath his breath, his eyes look over to the side of the road. And then it clicked. “Hang on.” The loud sirens go off, and soon Jaemin speeds onto the sidewalk. Turning on the mic as he speeds by even with pedestrians on it. “Police this is an emergency!” “Jaemin what are you doing?!” You ask him as you try to keep your head down, not wanting any one to catch sight of you. “You asked for another way princess, or should I say wife.” Gaining a laugh from Jeno who sits in the front, he grabs the microphone from Jaemin and begins to shout at everyone to get out of the way. “Move it people!” Merely missing them, Jaemin drifts off the sidewalk and takes a sharp turn. Flying into Haechan’s side who flies into Chenle’s side. With loud shouts, the three of you hold onto whatever you can to keep balance. And once he made the sharp turn, the three of you are forced back to your original spots. “Fuck Jaemin!” “Yeah that’s probably what you told me last night.” Grabbing Mark’s phone that sat on Haechan’s lap you throw it directly at Jaemin’s head. Only it never hit him but the clear glass that blocked you from reaching him. Bouncing right off the stainless glass and right into Haechan’s face. “Ow!”

“Oh I’m so sorry Hyuck!” Cradling his nose, he whines and peers his head. “I think I’m bleeding.” Removing his hand, you and Chenle gasp upon seeing the amount of blood falling from his nose. “Oh great going y/n.” Jaemin says watching through the rear view mirror. “Shut up!” Opening the glove compartment, Jeno sees a bunch of napkins from Dunkin Donuts. “Wow cops really do love living up to their stereotypes…here!” Sliding the window open he tosses the napkins inside. Quickly grabbing them, you push them up to his nose in which he winces. “Dip your head back.” “What? Are you nuts? Don’t listen to Chenle you need to keep your head down.” “No. He needs it back.” “Forward.” “Back.” “Forward.” “Everybody quiet!” Jaemin shouts and takes one last sharp turn before parking in a dirt covered parking lot. Hitting the brake harshly, he turns off the ignition. Turning around he stares at his friend.

“Haechan you alright man.” Sending him a thumbs up, he smiles and nods. “Alright now lets go. We’re here.” Getting out of the car, there before you lied the chapel. A dirty brown along with a tall sign with pink borders. “Halle’s Chapel.” You read it off. “You sure this is even legit?” “Only one way to find out.” Opening the door, in the five of you go. The bell is heard the second the door was opened and soon followed by a booming voice. “Aw you’re back! Mi amores!” A man shouts as he walks over to you. Arms out as he pulls you and Jaemin in a tight hug. “You crazy fucks really are back!” He laughs. “So how’s the happy couple?” “Happy?” The both of you say in sync before giving each other a dirty look. “Oooh trouble in paradise already?” Sighing, Jaemin rolls his eyes and shows him the certificate. “Is this true?” “Oh why of course it is! Came last night don’t you remember?” “No we don’t, none of us do.” Snickering he scoffs, not believing it at first.

“My oh my, well to prove it. The photo book is finished!…Mia! Photo book from last nights couple!” Following him over to the reception, out from the back comes a short straight haired woman, dropping the large book on the counter, the man whom you come to find out goes by the name Miguel ushers you to open it. Gasping the second you do, “oh brother.” You try to keep yourself from puking, Jaemin as equally mortified scans through every picture. “Wow, we really were hammered.” Jeno huffs. A few of them were all of you taking group pictures this including Renjun, Jisung and Mark. From flipping the camera, to taking shots for it. A few were of you and Jaemin making out the boys cheering you two on in the back. And the last and final one, was of Jaemin motor boating you. “Your face was in my chest!” You smack him with the heavy book. “Your chest was on my face!”

“Oh! Almost forgot this one. It’s my favorite.” Miguel gives you the picture and in it was Jaemin sticking the certificate in your boobs while you hooked his ring on his chain. Looking over to his neck, Jaemin taps his chest and realizes there was a dent underneath his shirt. Taking out the chain, there before him confirmed yet again he was married to you. Hanging on his very expensive most favorite silver chain was none other than his wedding ring. “For fucks sake.” “Excuse me, Miguel.” Chenle raises his hand. “Do you remember our friend Mark?” “Oh Mark? The boy with the crazy high pitched laugh?” “Yes! Yes him! Do you know if he might’ve left without us last night?” “Oh yeah! All of you left together. After taking the pictures Mark fell really hard and cut open his arm. You left to go to the hospital.” “Ok thank you!” As the boys went to leave, you and Jaemin stayed behind. “Any way to get us annulled?” “Please! I can do it in my sleep. But I don’t have the paper work so you can always get it done some other time.” Looking at each other, “Do it when we get back?” He nods.

“Has the bleeding stopped?” You ask Haechan, taking his hand off his nose and wincing when it looks slightly crooked. Going to touch it, he lets out a loud moan. “It hurts!” “Jesus I think I might’ve broken it.” By the time you arrive to the hospital Chenle goes to get Haechan’s nose checked while Jaemin contacts the clerk for any name under Mark Lee that might’ve checked in last night. “Who’s the doctor that operated on him?”

Throwing the door open, you rush into the first stall and begin to puke again. Not sure what the reason was this time but it felt worst than the first time. Especially the smell of the bathroom wasn’t the best it only made it worse. You didn’t understand why maybe you got food poisoning or maybe it was the liquor. Could be the best idea to get your stomach pumped and so with that, you asked for one. Luckily there weren’t many patients and as quickly you asked for it, is as quickly you got it. When getting your pressure checked, and a few other basic routines a nurse came back with a clear cup. “Oh no, I’m sorry but I just wanted my stomach pumped,” “oh no need. Just need you to pee in this cup and we’ll give you some medication to alleviate the pain.” “Oh okay..”

“Come on there had to be more to it doctor, Is there anything you can tell us that’ll help us find him?” Jaemin asks the doctor who’s currently working on an elderly man. “I don’t know what else to say. He came in with a large gash on his arm. Had to give him eight stitches, all of you were high off the charts.” “We weren’t high.” Jeno pitched in. When receiving a look from the doctor he adds on. “Drunk yes, high can’t be.” “Well, Mark seemed very worried about receiving the side effects of the drugs during the wedding that you all took last night and even asked for a test and some medication to make it go away.” The doctor snorts and asks the man to stand up and bend over. Sighing, Jaemin goes to speak again but widens his eyes when he sees the old man’s bare ass. Him and Jeno quickly turn around to face the wall. “I have the results you know? Took all your friends blood after you guys insisted on getting tested as well for whatever reason. All shows you guys took Rohypnol and a bunch of other drugs.” “The hell is that?” “Shit fucks you up alright… okay all done.” Taking off the gloves and throwing it to the trash, the boys turn around again. “Makes you lose your memory, could be why you can’t remember where you misplaced your friend.” Huffing, they follow the doc out of the patients room. “Did we say where we’d go next or something?”

Pausing, he waves his finger. “Actually now that I think of it yeah, you i mean not you..” he says at Jaemin then turns over to Jeno. “You said you were all going to some club a few blocks from here. You,” he turns his focus back on Jaemin. “Were too busy having sex with your wife in one of the empty rooms.” Raising his brows, he freezes for a second. “Pardon me?” “You idiots didn’t even realize there was a camera in there.” Jaw slacking, he turns over to Jeno who only smirks and pats his back. “Nice man-“ at loss for words, he looks back at the doctor hoping he’s only joking but the serious look on his face says it all. “I didn’t see it, but from the nurses who did…Geez you have some sort of pregnancy kink man.” “W-What?” “You kept going at it like a bunch of bunnies, saying you wouldn’t stopped until she got pregnant.”

“Okay I don’t want to hear it anymore!” Covering his ears, he sees you walk over. “Oh great..” “Guys…I have some news.” “And we do too.” Jeno speaks up, “How about we get the doc here to repeat himself again-“ Going to tell Jeno to shut up, you cut Jaemin off before he can do so. “I’m pregnant.” You say seriously then show them the blood work you’d taken. The three are silent, none knowing how to react and as subtly does Jeno mutter, “oh shit.”

In the security camera room, alone and allowed inside. You and Jaemin look over last night where he walks you discreetly to the room right next to Marks where he was getting checked. A finger going up his mouth as he giggles at you when you do so to him. Then the next clip appears of you two inside. Groaning and wincing when more and more clothes are being discarded and eventually having sex. “Okay I don’t think we need to see any more of this. I don’t know why we wanted to see it in the first place-“. pressing a button to exit out of it, the sound goes on and blares throughout the room. ‘Ah Jaemin!’ You moan from the security footage. ‘Fuck y/n’ Jaemin grunts out. Frantically pressing more buttons, Jaemin tries to help you out but only manage to increase the volume. ‘Feel so good! So big!’ Screaming, you begin to bang on the buttons hoping for any of them to shut it off. ‘God you’re fucking tight, keep doing that and i’m going to fuck a baby in you.’ Pausing, you turn to glare at the man besides you. “Don’t look at me like that you said I was big! You should know that’s an ego boost for guys” Leaving one last slam, he manages to finally shut it off. “Jesus fucking Christ.” He runs a hand through his hair and glances over to you and lowers it to your stomach. Intrusive thoughts winning, he extends his arm out to rest on your stomach but is quickly slapped away. “Pervert.” You scoff and walk out the room.

The car ride was silent, no one knowing how to start the awaiting topic. A white band over Haechan’s nose , still unaware of the situation. Currently making your way to the club the doc mentioned, does Jeno’s phone begin to ring. “It’s Renjun.” Disappointed, they wait for him to answer. ‘Where the hell are you guys?!’ He immediately asks once Jeno answers. ‘We can’t find Mark so we’re looking for him…don’t worry we got it all under control you just keep cool and cover for us…I don’t know make something up just don’t tell Angie the truth.’ Ending the call, the silence returns. “Okay…why the silence? What happened? Is it Mark?” Haechan asks. When none responds he sighs and begins to poke at you. “What’s happened?” Not glancing over at him and eyes staring straight ahead he turns to look at Chenle. “What happened?” Just when he’s about to let him in on the latest news, Jaemin speaks up. More serious than he’s ever been. “Utter a word and I’ll break your neck Zhong.” Tension made it unbearable in the car, so much you could no longer handle it.

“I’m pregnant with Jaemin’s kid.”

“WHAT?!”

Arriving to the club, Haechan is filled with many, many questions. Mostly as to when and how the two of you had sex. When he scrunches his nose in disgust, he winced slightly by the pain. “Please tell me you didn’t do it in front of us.” Rolling his eyes, Jaemin whisper hushedly at you. “Shouldn’t have told him shit.” “He was bound to find out.” You tell him and enter the club, shocked there were no bouncers outside. Dark, lights flashing and the smell of liquor hits your nostrils. A fruity scent that you usually smell it from perfume, walking further inside it made sense why you picked it up. “Jeno you took us to a strip club.” Monotonously your tone was. “It’s you guys again!” A voice shouts from behind the bar, a white rag draped over his shoulder. “Last night wasn’t enough huh?” “Who exactly are you?” Jaemin asks the stranger. “Not surprised, chugged a shit ton of Alfredo’s roofies.” “R-Roofies?” Turning into the direction he was pointing at, you all notice some knocked out men slouching on the counter with white powder over their noses. “Surprised you all survived that shit. He gave you guys all sorts of shit to snort and managed to accidentally give you guys some roofies.” He laughs and gets back to drying the glasses. “Yeah um…we can’t remember any of that so can you tell us what went down.” Jeno takes a seat in front of him. “Sure can. You all came in with some other guys as well.” “Was Mark with us? The blonde one?” “Sure was, even got on one of the stages and started dancing on the poles. You seemed to have liked that a lot.” He says pointing at you. Ignoring the frown Jaemin sends you, you speak up. “What else?” Chuckling he sets the glass down. “Then you switched spots with him.” Surprised, you begin to stutter. He laughs and continues, “while the others were too busy getting lap dances this man right here,” finger pointing straight at Jaemin. “Took off his jacket to cover you up. Drugs really kicked in and had you feeling brave if you know what I mean, clothes tossed left and right even flashed everyone and when guys started inching closer towards you, blue haired boy lost it and hurled you off the stage.”

Both you and his faces were bright pink, just hearing it was humiliating. You can hear the other snicker but you’re far too embarrassed to even hit them. “While the two of you were busy having sex in the bathroom-“ “AGAIN.” Heads turning to glare at Haechan he chuckles nervously and lowers his head. “Orange haired over here stole the keys of some cops.” He points at Chenle who only smiled sheepishly. “Took off with it with all of you inside, got the Mercedes towed.” “Do you know where it’s at?” “Yeah, a few miles from here. Terry’s Tow Yard.” Going to write down the directions, Jeno and Jaemin flinch back when they feel a pair of hands run over their biceps. “Hello cuties. Back for more?” Furrowing your brows, you stare at the curly black haired girl who’s currently biting her lip at them. “Sad we couldn’t have that threesome you promised pretty boy.” She lifts Jeno’s chin. “Uh…what?” “You were supposed to give me a wild ride before you ran off with your buddies.” She pouts at him. She turns to look at Jaemin, “Too bad I was too late, seemed like you were quite busy with someone else.” She sets her eyes on you, eyeing you before giving you a plastic smile. “If I hadn’t known any better, I would’ve thought you were the newbie.” She winks. Just as you’re about to down the shot the barista gives you, it’s quickly taken out of your grip. “Absolutely not preggos, have you forgotten already.” Jaemin says sternly. Groaning you roll your eyes and turn to him, “How could I not? It’s your child I’m carrying after all,” Shocked by the news, the woman widens her eyes never in a million years expecting that. Suddenly, the door is slammed open and the music is paused. “Police!” Shouts and screams are heard, “It’s a raid go!” The men who had transferred in the drugs scatter while policeman’s run after them. “Oh shit, we stole their car they’ll definitely bust us let’s get out of here!” Getting off your seats you run off backstage. To the nearest exit that the stripper helps lead you out, not before grabbing onto Jeno’s arm and tugging it back. “I hope to see you soon pretty boy.” She smirks and goes in for a kiss but he’s quick to reject. “Sorry don’t feel quite the same.” He manages to get out of her grip and run off with the others. Not noticing the pout on her face before going back inside where she’d be forced to have her hands up.

After being certain you were far from the cops, you stop to catch your breath. Hunched over as your sides burned, you feel Jaemin at your side. “You alright?” Nodding, you wave him off and stand up straight. “Im…fine.” You take a deep breath and continue on with the rest. Eventually you make it to Terry’s Tow Yard, wired fenced as there were piles of cars there. By then it was night and closed so you had no other choice but to climb. After Jaemin insisted they’d help you, you huff and let them carry you up high enough for you to throw your leg to the other side of the fence and climb down. One by one they follow until you all were standing inside the yard. “Alright now we just got to find it.” Separating to cover more ground, you don’t notice you weren’t alone until he snaps a branch. “Oh shit! Jesus Jaemin!” You scold him, a hard smack to his chest in which he winced and let out a low ow. “Sorry…” he mumbles before there’s a slight silence. You too focused on finding the gray Benz but not him. Instead he focuses his attention on you. “So…” “so?” “Are we going to talk about it or…?” “About what? The pregnancy?” “No…Nope actually I wanted to talk about the weather. Seems pretty chilly I wonder if it was a bad idea that I only brought a white blouse that’s covered in dirt and has slight holes in it.” Giggling you shake your head and shove him lightly in which he sends you a soft smile of his own.

“What are you thinking? About the whole ordeal?” Taking a deep breath you sigh and shake your head, “Not a single fucking clue. I don’t know what to think or how to feel. Definitely not how I planned to get pregnant. Surely not with you,” feigning offense he holds a hand to his chest. “Ouch.” He hears you chuckle and so he does to. “Guess we’ll have to work something out when we get back.” Making a face and cocking your head back you speak up, “Who says I’m keeping it?” Pausing, he thinks. “Oh! Well, then that’s okay too. I mean I’m not against it— I support it you know women’s rights to decide y’know all that feminist crap.” Sending him a look you speak, “Crap?” “Right sorry guess I shouldn’t have used that word, what im trying to say is whatever the decision..I’ll support it. And if you want to keep the child, I’ll be there.” Turning to face him you raise a brow at him. “You’ll be present?” “Yes,” “Like in the child’s life?” “Yes.” “Like not be a deadbeat-“ “What’s so hard to comprehend?” He looks at you with furrowed brows, shrugging you look forward again. “Just find it hard to picture you being a father.” “Yeah well I find it hard picturing myself raising a child with you nonetheless making one.” Sighing, he turns his body to face you. “Look just because I don’t commit doesn’t mean I can’t. Yeah I drink, sleep, fuck that’s how I live my life but that doesn’t mean I don’t know when to be responsible. I took part of this baby making fiasco and if you want this child then I’m there. I’ll be the father that child deserves to have and I can promise you I’ll be the best father they’ll ever need.” Failing to cover the on growing smile you, you nudge his elbow. “Even if it means to lessen the sex and alcohol?” Snorting, he rolls his eyes and smiles at you. “Even if it kills me.”

“Hey guys! Found it!” You hear Chenle’s distant voice. Tracking it, you all rejoin together in front of the perfectly untouched Mercedes. “What about the keys?” Shrieking when the sound of broken glass is heard, you look over and see Jeno climb in and after a few seconds climb out. “Got ‘em.” Turning the car, Haechan laughs and gets in. “Oh hallelujah!” As he tries to start up the ignition does he realize the car is out of gas. “Shit!” He hits the wheel. Sighing, he looks over at you guys, “any one know how to siphon gas out of a car?” While they busied themselves in doing just that, Haechan kept you company sat on top of the trunk. Looking up at the sky with hardly any stars in sight. “Can you believe our luck?” He laughs, “I don’t think I’ve ever had this much chaos go on in my life…like ever.” “Same, but at least it’ll make a sick story to tell our grandchildren.” “That, you got a point.” Feeling itchy, Hyuck goes to scratch at his arm when his sleeve rises up and there he notices the black ink. “What’s that?” You ask, reading the words the two of you say in unison. “Malcolm.” “Who’s that?” Worried he tries to wipe it off but to no avail. “Hyuck it’s permanent ink.” “I know what a tattoo is! Why do I have it?!” Groaning he falls back on the trunk and huffs. “God I’m so screwed.” “Oh come on, you make it seem like your wife beats you or something.” “No but she’s very scary when mad. What do I tell her when she sees this? Sorry honey I’m gay now?” Making a look, Haechan glares at you. “I’m not gay.” “Wouldn’t be a bad thing if you were.” “oh for fucks sakes.” Getting off the trunk he dusts himself, “Well I’m gonna go help the guys while you-“

Suddenly cut off by the loud banging in the inside of the trunk, you let out a shriek. Quick to help you get off, Haechan sets you down and pulls you away from the car. “Uh guys!” All quickly rushing over to where they can clearly hear the loud banging. “Do you think?” Sending each other a look until you all get to the same conclusion. “Mark!” Fumbling with the keys, Jeno gets it open but he’s kicked to the ground the second the trunk is unlocked. Shouting is heard and out comes a naked man who starts attacking them. “Wait! Wait!” Punched in the stomach, Chenle goes down. Body wrapping around Haechan who’s trying desperately to get him off. Slammed harshly on the ground when he’s knocked out of breath. Jaemin managed to dodge the first punch before the man wraps his legs around him and puts him in a head locked. “Ah! Okay his balls are way too close to my face!” Knocking him down on the ground, he turns over to you where you unintentionally go to cover your stomach. In an instant the naked man understood and doesn’t attack, “who are you?” Haechan groans on the ground. “Crazy assholes locked me in there!” He says before running off. Once he was good distance away you rush over to help them up. “Geez he’s got moves.” You say, inspecting Jaemin’s face that held light scratches. Not noticing how his eyes softened. Letting go, you move over to help the maknae of the group up. “Who the fuck was that?” “No idea.”

Driving your way back to the hotel, you separate from them and head into the direction for ice. Filling the bucket and getting some plastic bags for the guys. And while you waited for it to fill up, you look out the window in the mean time. “Where are you Mark?” You ask softly under your breath. Walking out the room and passing by the broken elevator. A few technicians there as they put up a sign. And floors below the fifth including the basement would need to be taken by the stairs. When making your way back up to the guys room, you’re shocked by the shouts. “What’s going on!” You shout above their loud voices. Currently deciding who would be feeding the giant snake. Breathing heavily, Jeno points at the door with the broomstick in his hand. “Guess one of us got to drug the snake.” “Why?” “Because that naked man that attacked us, is apparently a mafia boss. In which we played poker with us in the basement of this hotel, stole the money we originally lost and some more from what he betted on the table which came to be around…oh yeah thirty grand.” Chenle explains. “And that snake in there who’s name is Malcolm, was his where we had trespassed into his home and stole it. And now he wants us to return it to him and give him back the thirty grand which we need to accumulate by tomorrow morning.” Dropping the bucket of ice you simply shrug. “O-Ok.”

As the guys struggled to feed the snake, Jaemin sat below your feet, in front of you where you sat on the ripped up couch. Letting you press the bag of ice on his face. Getting a few hard beating from the men alongside the mafia boss. The purple color beginning to form on his face, he slightly winced when the coldness hits his face. “How will we ever explain this to Angie.” You shake your head worriedly. “Accidents happen right?” He mumbles to you. “Yeah guess so, but still. Louis will freak when he sees all the photos of the groomsmen will be covered in bruises.” Softly grasping your hand, he lowers the ice pack. “At least we know where Mark is.” Your eyes widen and lean forward not noticing how close the proximity got but he did. “You do?” Nodding he curls his lips. “Yeah, the boss has him which is why if we don’t give him the money…” your face falls at the realization. “Then we better give him that money.” “How?” “How else? We’re in Vegas Jaemin.” “But there’s a much bigger chance we’ll lose more money than win it.” Scoffing you wave your hand at him. “Baby that thong you had stored in your pocket came with a matching bra and heels all very expensive with the finest material used, and with what money? Gambling money I earned all by myself.” You flipped your hair and smirked at him. Curling a finger underneath his chin, his breath hitched when you inch closer. His hands instinctively coming to grip on your thighs, “Trust me when I tell you, i can gain back all that money.” Gulping, he nods. “Okay.”

A loud slam is heard, pulling away and seeing Chenle looking frightened and heavy breathing he nods. “Done…now we wait.” As the time ticked by, you took this chance to relax. Taking off your shoes where you moaned in relief. Massaging your calves to relieve the tension, pausing when you feel a hand grip them softly. Pulling them over to his lap, Jaemin silently begins to massage them. Not saying anything, you let him and relish in on the relaxation. After fifteen minutes Jeno stands. “Okay I think it’s knocked out by now.” Grabbing the bed sheet left on the ground you had used to cover your self, they take cautious steps in and when they see it was in fact unconscious. They cover it and pick it up. Helping you put your shoes back on, Jaemin helps you stand. “Thanks.” You send him an appreciative smile, about ready to help them but he stops you. A look of worry before he recollects himself clearing his throat. “Maybe you should stay in front of us. Just in case the snake wakes up.” Nodding, you help them with the door. “Fuck it’s heavy as hell.” Chenle groans. Even with the four of them the snake was far too big and heavy but they pulled through. Sneaking out from the back making sure no one saw them, you open the trunk and in do they shove the snake. When Haechan knocks it’s head, the others scold at him. “Gosh Hyuck do you want it to wake up and eat us like rodents?” “Sorry…” Piling inside the car and making your way over to the casino you quickly run to the game your most good at. Black Jack.

The more you played the more the crowd built. You were fantastic, the boys grinned from ear to ear as they never stopped hyping you up. But you couldn’t relish in the glory, you were determined to win back the thirty grand. But you realize it’d take too long so you told them that when the time came, to steal the chips from the other players on your cue. When you manage to win another stack you fail to hear Jaemin tell you he’s proud of you. Momentarily freezing, panicked at the possibility that you might’ve heard him but when he thought he was in the clear. He looks over and sees the guys smirking at him. Haechan wiggling his brows as Chenle and Jeno made kissy faces at him. Oblivious in seeing him show them the finger. A stranger walks by, slightly knocking into your chair you purposefully extended out and down you went. Gasps could be heard as you’re immediately crowded and asked about you’re well being. “She’s pregnant!” Jaemin shouts as he cups your face. “Baby you okay? You should probably get checked by a doctor.” “I’m so sorry ma’am.” The stranger who knocked into your chair says frantically. Wincing you nod and wave him off, “Im alright just…ah!” Cradling your head, Jaemin has you lean on him for support. “We’ll just take our winnings and get going.”

The boys were no where to be seen and by the time the two of you left, that’s when the rest realize their lack of chips. Running out to the car with the bag full of cash you high five each other. “You were great y/n wow who would’ve thought you had it in you!” “Yeah never did I think rule follower y/n would do such a thing.” “What? What are you talking about I don’t always follow the rules?” Scoffing, Haechan continues. “Please, you were practically the teachers pet in all of grade school.” Rolling your eyes you shake your head. “That’s because I was too good at hiding my bad behavior. Difference between me and you four, you make it obvious while I’m discreet.” “Oh yeah?” Jaemin speaks up this time, “Name one thing you did bad in grade school?” Thinking about it for a minute he’s about to snicker and say I told you so until you talk. “Back in the eighth grade when Seohyun had dumped that carton of chocolate milk all over you, I grabbed a pair of scissors during science glass and cut a chunk of his hair.” The car erupts in laughter as they shake their heads, “no way!” “Yep! Cried to the teacher and pointed fingers at me but I quickly tossed the scissors on his friends desk who also gave Jaemin a hard time and pretended like I was too busy doing my homework to realize what was going on around me. Teacher never suspected it and both got detention for ‘lying’ .” Laughing at the story, you go on to say other times in which you did bad things but while you did so you don’t notice Jaemin constantly glancing at you through the rear view mirror. He couldn’t believe you did that for him, maybe he judged you too hard. Back in school he assumed you couldn’t stand him, you never made the effort to talk to him nonetheless befriend him. Then again he was pretty nerdy and got bullied while you were the popular kid along with Angie. Around that time did Mark start gaining a crush on her, but he wasn’t the only one who had a crush on a popular kid. “I’m hungry not gonna lie.” You say after it quiets down. “I could eat.” Jeno adds and then the rest agree.

In the nearest McDonald’s, an Oreo McFlurry and French fries. Jaemin passes you one of his chicken sandwiches despite you saying you weren’t that hungry. And before you can object, Jaemin gives you look daring you to decline his sandwich. So you accept it happily. “I..am..beat.” In between yawns does Haechan say. “Better start heading back to the hotel.” For the most part, everyone passed out almost instantly. Except for you, couldn’t wink an eye despite your muscles begging for rest. And when you hear sudden movement and make out Jaemin’s figure, you accept his hand. Walking the two of you up to the roof. A blanket around you, he noticed you’re still shivering so he pulls you in his chest. Arms coming to wrap around you and even though his jacket did little to keep him warm, it definitely helped you gain some heat. “Thanks for what you did.” “Did what?” “Cutting Seohyun’s hair in the eighth grade. Pretty bad ass.” Snickering you roll your eyes. “It was nothing really, I had something worst in mind but it’s all I could’ve thought of in the moment.”

“Who else did you stick up for?” “Mm other than Angie, you.” “I find that hard to believe.” “I’m not lying. It’s also wasn’t my first time doing that. When Jae purposefully hit you in the face during dodgeball, I aimed for his feet which caused him to slip and split his chin open.” Laughing you feel his chest rumble. “No way that was you?” Giggling you nod. “I couldn’t stop laughing when I heard that day.” When it gets quiet again, he lowers his voice. “Thank you for sticking up for me. I judged you when I shouldn’t have, I’m sorry.” “Nah, I’m not innocent. I judged you too.” “Really about what?” “Mostly during high school when you hit puberty and started dating around. Thought the old nice nerdy you was gone and replaced by some fuck boy I didn’t know .” “You know I didn’t started screwing around until college.” “Bullshit!-“ “Swear on my life!” “But you got popular in high school! So many girls wanted you, there’s no way you didn’t go whoring around.” “No, I didn’t,” “and why’s that?” He’s silent for a bit before he answers, his humorous tone disappears and is one of pure sincerity. “Because I thought I’d finally grow the balls to ask you out.” He shakes his head as he keeps his focus out on the horizon. “Didn’t want to lessen my chance at dating you if you thought I was going from girl to girl but I see that didn’t work either way.”

Pushing yourself off him, you turn to face him. “You liked me? Was this before or after you started hating me?” Scoffing he smiles sadly and shakes his head. “I never hated you.” “Yeah I find that hard to believe.” “It’s true,” looking up to stare into your eyes. You notice how they begin to soften the deeper he looks into your orbs. “ I thought if I started being a dick to you maybe i’d forget about you but it never worked. While you hated me, I…” he scoffs and looks down at his hands. “You what?..” you get a hold of his hands, stopping him from playing with his fingers. “While you hated me…I fell in love with you.” His voice falls into one of a whisper. But you hear it, loud and clear. “I fucked around to forget about you but each time I saw you, my snide comments came out as a defense mechanism to avoid admitting my feelings for you. And for that…I’m sorry for what I said. I know I can never take them back.” “And I’m sorry as well.” You cup his face to look at you. “I’m stuck up because I try to pretend that I have my shit together when I don’t. I pretended to be better than you as a way to prove that I didn’t need you in my life. That there was no need to like you, to not think about dating you. Not fall in love with you.”

Gulping, he asks you softly. “And did it work?” Smiling sadly, you shake your head no. Staring into your eyes for a few seconds until he does the reasonable choice and goes in for a kiss. Hand reaching the back of your head, he pulls you closer to him. Afraid he’d lose you if he didn’t have you close to him. Tilting his head to reach deeper, sighing contently when you give him access. Groaning when he feels your tongue on his, the familiar feeling in his pants return but he tries not to act upon it. But it’s hard, so hard when it comes to you. For years he’s tried suppressing his want for you. For years he’s pretended you never had an affect on him and yet every chance he got he’d look over and admire you from a far. In awe at how well you wore your outfits, mesmerized by your beauty and your confidence. Your mere presence has him squirming and heart beating out of his chest. And as unfortunate it is to know that his first time with you he had no recollection of, it seems as if this was your very first kiss together. And it’s something he wants to cherish forever. So when you finally pull away and stare at each other lovingly, Jaemin grins and leans in for more. Heart fluttering when he hears you let out a soft moan. Squirming to try and hide the now obvious hard on, and when you climb on his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, he’s a goner. “Tell me you want me and I’m yours, I promise.” He breathes out heavily, almost pleading for you to tell him so. “Only if you want me.” Grunting, he nods and leans in to kiss you again. “I want you always.”

Blanket on the floor, he lays you softly on it. Climbing on top of you, arms either side of your head as he loses you softly. Letting out a loud groan when he feels your leg come to wrap around his midriff. Pulling him on top of you, bulge coming directly down on your wet heat. “Y/n-“ “Want you Jaemin, please.” Pupils dilating, eyes filled with lust and affection he obliges immediately. Gently pulling your crop top off you, undoing the buttons until it reveals the matching red bra to your thong. He leans in to press soft kisses on your breast. “So pretty.” He murmurs, cupping your breasts and diving deeper. Hands wondering behind you until he unclasp your bra and tosses it aside. Quick to pop a tittie in his mouth and start to suck. Fondling the other with his large hand as he looks up at you. Slightly grinding on top of you, feeling extra sensitive you throw your head back and take in the building pleasure. “Feels so good Jaemin.” Pulling away with a pop, he unbuttons his dirty blouse and throws it aside. Grinning when he feels you beginning to unzip his pants. “Impatient?” “Been wanting you for years, it’s understandable why.” Groaning he leans in to smash his lips on top of yours. “If only you knew just how much I’ve been wanting you,” leaning down to start sucking hickies on your neck and pulls away for a split second to talk. “All the sinful things I’ve done with you on my mind. Alone in the bathroom as I jerk myself off to the thought you…on your knees with your pretty little mouth open for me.” Biting your lip, you run a hand through his hair. Loving how he rolls his eyes and takes in the feeling of your hand slightly tugging his hair oh so sweetly, “then let me live up to your expectations.”

And like that, his fantasies became a reality. Standing and with you in your knees, he strikes your hair softly as you spit on his cock. Licking a long strip at his underside, eyes never once looking away from him. “So fucking pretty baby.” He curses out, holding your hair in a makeshift ponytail. Jolting when you begin to suck his red angry tip, oozing with precum you kitten lick it off. Hallowing your mouth as you took him further. “Shit!” Your speed increased and started bobbing your head. At times pausing to take him completely in the back of your throat causing a loud growl to emit from him. Throwing his head back as he tries to regain his steady breathing. And when you begin to play with his balls, he loses it. Getting a hold of your pretty face before he starts to shove his cock down your throat. “Fuck, I’m so sorry baby it feels too good,” you never thought Jaemin to be so..needy and apologetic from a man who was overly dominating. The kind who may even be into conflicting some pain kink. “You can take it right princess?” Nodding as much as you can with his cock deep in your mouth you slightly gag. Letting you go, you pull back to breathe. Feeling him pull your head up, he leans down to kiss you. Getting a bit of the salty taste on his lips. “I’m close baby, where do you want it?” “Wanna taste it Jaemin, let me swallow your load.” “Fuck,” standing up straight, he holds the back of your head. “All yours baby, take me as you please.” Watching as you take him back in your mouth, not caring when you gag you deep throat him with the intention of making him cum. Jerking him off in fast pace motion which is making him even more sensitive. He feels himself nearing his climax, his load building more and more. And when you begin to suck him like a lollipop again does he finally bust in your mouth. “Fuck y/n,” he feels himself shake slightly, goosebumps running up his skin as he watches you swallow all of him. Your eyes soft and pouty as you look up at him. With fuck me eyes, pressing your tits on him and rubbing yourself on his foot he slowly pulls you off his dick. Opening your mouth and there being a small web of his semen he can’t help but lean in and kiss you passionately. An arm under your leg as he lowers you on your back, removing the last bit of your clothing before spreading your legs for him.

Laying trails of kisses, brushing past the love marks he’s already left on your pretty skin, until he reaches your sopping cunt. Pressing a soft kiss to your nub and smirking when you immediately react to the sensation. “Keep em open for me princess.” Pressing more kisses to your clit until he starts taking long licks. Throwing your head back and letting out a pornographic moan this only encourages him to keep going. Rubbing a finger up your cunt as he buried himself further into your puffy pussy. Holding the back of his head and pushing it closer to your cunt your grip tightly onto the blanket when he prods your hole with his tongue. Whining when he pulls away, you squeal when he flips positions. With him on the ground and you over him, he keeps you above his face. Arms resting on either side of your thighs and without wasting a second, pulls you to sit on his face. Mewling at the pleasure, you lay your hands on his chest behind you, rubbing your self all over his mount in which he gladly eats. Sucking and licking, he pulls away for a second to spit and lubricate you more before attaching his mouth back on you. Licking figure eights on your nub repeatedly even when you begin to squirm above him. Squealing when he lands a harsh smack on your ass. Forcing you back to sit on his face. “Be good baby.” He tells you sternly. “Feels too good Jaem, fuck I’m close.” And even when you do come he still doesn’t stop. Sending you into overdrive, legs beginning to shake and chest heaving the more you find it difficult to catch your breath. “Fuck Jaemin, I can’t baby feels too good god no more!” You go to push at his head but he grabs your hands and sets them on your thighs as he continues to eat you out. It’s obvious he’s gotten pussy drunk, never has this happened before mostly he hits it and quits it but it’s you, of course the girl of his dreams is going to make his sexual experience a hundred times more amazing and meaningful. From someone who wasn’t really into oral, now willing to suffocate in your sex.

Despite your protests, you continued to grind on his face. His tongue was talented in many ways, he knew exactly how to make you feel good and as much as your body begged for no more you yearned for it like a bitch in heat. A part of you wishing he never stops and if he had it his way, he never would. But when he eventually does, his mouth is covered in your essence and fingers roughly rubbing your cunt. “Jaemin!” Squelching sounds get much louder, and out like a faucet comes your juices. Never did you think you’d be a squirter. “So good for me, my good girl.” He presses a kiss on your temple as you come down from your high. Pulling you into his lap where he hugs you, brushing your loose strands of hair behind your ears. And while he whispers your words of affirmation, he gets ready to push his tip in you. And you gladly open for him. “Oh god! Jaemin fuck you’re so damn big!” His girth was big, barely fit your hand, the length was a bit above average and the speed his thrusts were sure have you limping. The morning after your sexcapades with him you felt a bit of a limp but your raging headache over bared it. Now this time would be different there’d be no roofies to block the oncoming soreness you would bound to get. But you didn’t care, you wanted him. You wanted to bounce on his dick and have him make love to you until you dropped unconscious . So this went on for hours in the middle of the night when the city was fast asleep and the two of you busied yourself in fucking each other’s brains out. No longer caring how loud you two may be. Breasts bouncing in his face as you fucked yourself on his dick, face leaning in to burying deep in between your tits. Back arched and on your knees as he takes you from behind, the loud sounds of cheeks clapping emits through the air as he gets a tight hold on your neck and pins you still. Fucking you until he busts his load in you.

Getting you on your back where he’d throw your leg over his shoulder and pound into you, begging you to come on his cock. “Gonna get this belly round and full of my cum.” On your side where he holds your leg in mid air and rams into you. Nibbling and sucking on your neck to add even more dark hickies making sure that by morning he’d be reminded that he made love to you all night. The scratch marks on his back would definitely still be red by morning and very much apparent. The love marks all over his chest and those on your thighs would serve as memories from when he made you his. “Mine.” He hums as he cums in you one last time. So full you can’t hold no more and immediately begin to spill. But he won’t take it, so he keeps fucking you until he’s satisfied that you have most of him in you, not caring if he has to stuff you full of his cock again to do so. “Yours.” You hum back tiredly. “You mine too?” Chuckling he nods, running a hand through his sweaty hair , he wiped his forehead using his shirt and leans in to kiss you softly. “Of course, all yours…” pressing another kiss he rubs his nose on yours. “You own me.” Giggling you smack his arm and hold him tight. Not wanting to lose his warmth. “We should head back.” Whining in protest you pull him closer to you again, “No stay right here.” Groaning when he plunged deeper in your sex his lustful state begins to circle again. “Keep doing that and I might just fuck you again.” Pressing a kiss to his nose, you clench your walls around him. “Fuck me Jaemin.” And so he does gladly.

By the time morning came the two of you had fallen on the roof. And when the clock set eight am the two of you were back to fucking each other like crazy. “Ah right there, right there, right there!” You grip onto his arm tightly as he pounds into you harder until you squirt for him again. Picking you up and proceeds to bounce you off his dick you grab onto him tightly and hiccup with a few slight tears running down your face. Smashing his lips onto yours, forcing his tongue inside your mouth. Both bodies completely covered in dark bruised and scratch marks. Lips swollen and eyes puffed from the crying of intense pleasure. Jaemin grunts loudly when he cums in you again, “mmm fuck you sure you didn’t just fuck another baby in me?” Laughing lightly, he sets you down gently and thrusts his fingers inside your cunt. In love with your squelching noises, he doesn’t stop until you come for him one last time and when you do he wasted no time shoving his wet fingers in your mouth. Demanding for you to suck and when he thinks you did a good job cleaning him, he has you on your knees sucking his dick. “Such a good girl.” He doesn’t stop praising you, he knows how much you love it. How happy you get that it causes motivation to suck him more, better and faster. “Alright that’s enough baby don’t want you getting high off my dick.” Noticing the heavenly look on your face, he helps you stand and kisses you passionately. “Come back to me baby.” He whispers to you softly knowing you’ve fallen slightly into subspace. And when you do come back, he doesn’t waste time cuddling you. Covering you in the blanket and pressing soft kisses on your head, “did so good princess.” He rocks the two of you softly. “Ready to go back inside?” You nod tiredly.

“Where the hell have you been you two?” Haechan asks like a worried mother. Sparing a glance over, Jeno snorts. “Isn’t it obvious Hyuck? The two were off somewhere fucking like bunnies. Just glad they finally acknowledged the sexual tension.” Chenle walks over to look closely at the hickies, a glare on his Jaemin’s face when he sees he’s a little too close to you. “Oh yeah they most definitely should be expecting twins sometime soon.” He laughs and walks off. Huffing Jaemin speaks up. “Are we done chitchatting? Can we just get ready and get the hell out of here to get our friend back?” “The weddings today.” You remind yourself, nodding Jaemin claps his hands. “Alright quickly shower so we can get a move on.” Half an hour before the designated time to meet the boss the five of you quickly rush out the door with the bag of money and drive out to the middle of no where we you were instructed to do. In the black SUV, a few trucks surrounding the vehicle they await for your arrival. Parked in front no one dares to make the first move to leave. “What are we suppose to do?” Chenle asks. “I don’t know.” Jaemin shrugs and continues to stare ahead waiting for any movement but see none. “Should we honk at them?” Haechan speaks. You turn to him, “Honk? That’ll aggravate them.” “Aggravate? How so?” “C’mon Hyuck you only honk at a person if you’re demanding for them to get a move on.” “She’s got a point.” Jeno says following by a chorus of agreements from the others.

“Bullshit-“ sliding the clear window open, he reaches over to the steering wheel. “Haechan no-“ Jaemin and Jeno try to get him to stop but fail to do so and instead, a loud honk goes off in the middle of the desert. Freezing, you all watch as they begin to pile out of their vehicles and wait for you in front. “See?” Haechan scoffs and begins to get out of the car, following after him the five of you walk up to them. With the very boss standing in the middle with sunglasses on and a cigarette in hand. Once he knew you were in ear shot he points at Jaemin. “Next time you honk at me I’ll kill you.” Taken aback by it, he only makes a noise of disbelief. “See?” You retort to Hyuck who stood beside you. Snapping his fingers he extends his hand out, “money.”

Tossing him the black bag, the boss snaps to get one of his men to count it all up. As he did so, the suspense only rose and caused the terrible dread in you to build. “It’s all of it.” His deep voice spoke to him, “Very well, deal is a deal. Bring him out.” The door suddenly opens as the men drag a body out roughly, a bag over his head and arms tied behind him. “Mark!” The guys begin to call out for him and when he’s placed in front of you all, bag removed from him the once joy you were filled with is immediately wiped off.

“Who the hell are you?” Jeno tells the stranger in shock, “I’m Mark.” Clicking his tongue, he drops his hand on his leg leaving a loud smack before he turns to look at the mafia boss. “Yeah no, uh…hey! You kinda gave us the wrong guy.” Shaking his head, he points at the stranger. “Nah uh that’s Mark.” “Look I tried to tell him he’s got the wrong guy-“ “No, you see our Mark is Asian. This here, is a Caucasian man.” “You sure?”

Groaning, the group begins to feel dejected.

“Unless he decided to pull an April Fools Prank on us and change race…yeah we’re sure this isn’t him.” Shrugging, he raised his arms in defeat. “Too bad for you then, ok bye bye!” “Wait! You said you had him, where is he?!” “Not my problem now fuck off, you should be lucky I’m even sparing you twats!” One by one, they all cleared out the area. Leaving behind a hush of dirt that the five of you would have to cough out of your lungs. “Shit!”

With the bit of reception you got, you were finally able to get the call to go through. Have since stayed in the same spot from where the stand off took place. With the guys leaning on the car, you all decided it was time to come out with the truth. So when the line was received and heard her voice greet you, you spoke. “Hey Angie…”

“What should we do now?” Chenle asks to no one in particular. “Well…” Jaemin starts. “For starters, weddings off.” “Oh totally.” “Mhmm.” They all agree and he continues, “Secondly, we have no other choice but to file a police report.” “You know once we do that we’ll go to jail right? They’re still searching for us. If it’s not for the cop car we stole then it’s everything else.” Groaning, he covers his face with his hands. “We have no other choice Jeno, we can’t find Mark any where. For someone who hates walking for long periods of time he surely knows how to wonder off for miles.” Suddenly, Chenle sits up. “You’re right…” “huh?” Watching as their Orange haired friend start to piece whatever realization together, he scoffs and laughs. “I got it!” “Got what?” “Mark! I know where he is!” “How?”

“Just like you said, Mark hates walking. He can lock himself in a gym for weeks and not care but walking? No way. He’d rather play the piano than have to walk.” “Please get to the point Zhong.” Jaemin says tiredly, a patch of sweat falling down his forehead by the hot blazing sun. “This morning, the elevator stopped working for those going to floors 1-5 including the basement , the main floor is on the sixth. Now the basement can only be reached by two ways, the elevator and stairs but to go down to the stairs you need a key to open the door. Last night, we were downstairs playing poker then we ran off with the money. But we came back, what if we went to check if the boss was still down there? If we did and saw the coast was clear we must’ve stayed there for a while, decided to pull a prank on Mark, leave him in there and by doing so breaking the elevator so it can’t go down any more.”

“Then we forgot about him, and he’s been there ever since…” Jaemin finished it off. Processing his friends theory it makes sense, the confetti, paint, all of that can be found in the basement for special party requests that guests order as part of room service. It could be how they even got their hands on it. “Oh…my…god.” Looking over to where you stood only a few yards away, he quickly gets off the hood of the car and runs over to you. ‘For the last few days, we’ve been searching everywhere but we can’t find him. We can’t find Mark-‘ Feeling the phone get roughly snatched out of your grip, you shout at Jaemin to give it back but he pulls it up against his ear. ‘Angie! Hey! Did y/n here say we couldn’t find him? Don’t listen to her, she’s still a little loopy from all those margaritas she drank. I know I keep telling her to relax on them but you know how she goes, don’t tell me what to do and you’re not the boss of me…haha’ dropping the smile immediately after seeing the glare you send him, he clears his throat and gets back on track. ‘Mark is with us and we’re on our way you just get ready, we’re coming ok? Alright bye!’ Cutting Angie off before she can bombard him with questions he tosses you the phone and holds you hand leading you over to the car. “Come on we know where Mark is.”

“Mark!” You all begin to shout as you go down the stairs. Getting closer to the basement until finally getting to the door. Slamming on it, you realize there’s no key. “Some one kick it.” But when Jeno tries, it doesn’t budge. Turning your head and seeing the fire extinguisher, you break the glass by punching it. The shards of it immediately cuts you but you ignore the sting and grab the extinguisher, “Here use this.” Accepting it, Jeno asks the rest to take a step back and begins to smash it against the knob until it finally opens. “Mark?!” Piling in, you split to find him faster. Rushing past the piano, you freeze when you notice a figure sitting besides it. Gasping, you noticing it was none other than the missing boy. “Found him!” Kneeling besides him, you notice he was dehydrated and miserable most likely for having not eaten in days and having to put up with the hang over on top of that. “Mark are you okay?” You hear Haechan ask as the others follow close behind him. Looking up slowly, he softly manages to let out, “You’re all assholes.” Soft chuckles and relieved smiles are on everyone’s faces as they help him up. Jeno and Jaemin on either side of him with his arms over their shoulders. “Boy are we glad to have found you, you have no idea what we went to find you.” As he climbs the stairs weakly with the rest trailing behind, “Does anyone know what happened last night?” Only getting a chorus of laughs, he chuckles along confusedly.

Quickly getting him in the car and off back to Angie’s house, a quick stop to the gas station to get Mark something to eat and to bandage your hand. You took longer to get out, the guys waited outside. Jaemin filled up the gas tank as he watched Mark inhale the twinkies down and chug down the large bottle of water. “What did you do in there?” Shrugging he takes a breather, “what I could do, play the piano. After a while though I got too dizzy to even focus and collapsed on the floor, been there til you all found me.” “So sorry man, it’s those roofies we took. Really fucked us up.” “Roofies?” Nodding, Jaemin raises a brow in amusement. “Promise we’ll explain on the way home.” Nodding he goes back in the car once the others do. Just as Jaemin pulls the lever back in its spot, he walks over to where you stood. Outside the doors of the gas station. White gauze wrap covering the gash the glass left on your hand. “Hey, you alright?” Taking your hand gently you merely nod at him. “Doesn’t hurt does it?” Turning it slightly to look for any major injuries, lifting the wrap softly to take a peek inside you get a hold of his hand to stop him. “I’m fine.”

“Well then we better get going. Wedding’s in four hours, and then we can finally talk about our situation.” “Situation?” “Yeah. Us, the baby. What’ll be the next step.” He sends you a small smile, coming to terms with the fact that he’ll be a father soon. You send one back but it becomes to overbearing to continue faking and soon it breaks into a frown. “You okay?” He asks you worriedly. “Yeah I’m okay.” You utter out and go to push past him but he stops you, “Hey, y’know you can talk to me right?” He had a hold on your arm, hearing a crunch from what you had holding. He looks down to see the green packaging for pads. Looking back up at you, you can’t look in his eyes. Conflicted by what you were feeling…sadness?…happy? But mostly worried by how he’ll react. Maybe he’ll be upset and stop speaking to you or he’d realize he never felt anything for you and it was all in the heat of the moment because he knew he’d be stuck with you given you were carrying his supposed offspring.

“Is that…?” Nodding softly, you move your hand away from his grasp. “Turns out I was just late…” you look up at him with a few tears beginning to well up in your eyes. “A false positive was all it was.” He was at loss for words, much like you he didn’t know how to react. He had to admit it was scary to think his world was flipped upside down with the whole baby bomb, but then there was the sudden joy to have a little one to call his. As much as he wished to take a walk and process it he knows he can’t be given that luxury. So wiping the single tear that falls from your eye, you tap his bicep and nod over to the car. “C‘mon, we got a wedding to catch up to.” Getting in, turned away from the others. None ask questions. Ignition is turned on the second Jaemin gets in and off you all went. Midway, he stopped on the side of the road where they all jumped out to change into their suits while leaving privacy for you inside to change into your bridesmaid dress. Fixing your hair and quickly applying the little makeup you brought with you, you take out your heels to put on. Taking off your shoes and out falls a gold key, holding it up it catches the attention of Haechan. “The key to the basement.” He snickers and shakes his head.

“Can I tell you guys something?” Mark suddenly says. “When I woke up, I had a bag with me…” Unzipping it, the car erupts in shock gasps as they see what contained inside it. “Can someone explain why I have thirty grand?” Everyone laughs, Haechan who’s currently sitting on his lap, pulls him into a tight hug and rubs his head. “Oh Markie!” “What?” But again, he’s not given a full explanation until about half an hour to their final destination. Worried they’d have to call it off, Renjun and Jisung had just left the room filled with a very frantic bride. Had just convinced her to not smear her makeup with her tears. Walking out of the house, they’re about to make the decision to call it off when a loud horn goes off. “Is that?” Watching as the very beaten up car comes into the driveway and out the six of you get out hurriedly. They grin and go to hug them when they start demanding for people to move out of the way. “Right this way come on Mark!” Running off into the backyard not caring what the guests thought as they watched him sprint by the aisle and onto the stage, “Sorry for the dilemma, shall we get started?”

Slamming the door open, you try to catch your breath but only get more of it knocked out when you feel Angie’s arms wrap around you. “Where the hell have you been?” She scolds at you with a worried look. “So sorry…long…story but…m’here now. Mark is here…fuck…it’s show time.” Her sadness now replaced with happy jitters she starts to smile and walks out of the room where her father waits with the others. The groomsmen and bridesmaid all in formation to go pair by pair and as it starts nearing to the last pair before the bride, thus being you and Jaemin. You hook your arm over his gently. Taking slow cautious steps as the guests stand and watch you two. “You look beautiful by the way.” He whispers low enough for you to hear. “Thank you, you don’t look all that bad either.” Thinking it was the end of it, he keeps going. “You know I’m here for you no matter what right? Baby or no baby.” Swallowing hard, you hum. “So if you’d do me the honors, I’d like to take you out sometime say next Saturday night?” Smiling sheepishly, you’re at the end of the aisle and go to part. “Sure why not, we’re married aren’t we?” And walk over to stand with the other bridesmaids with Jaemin sending you a smirk.

Watching as Angie comes in view with her father besides her, you watch mesmerized by her beauty. Even noticing a tear roll down Mark’s face, and when the officiant mentions the rings both you and Jaemin pause and send each other looks. And then it clicks, “oh! Right!” Taking off the ring you still had wrapped around your finger as he takes his off from his chain, you ignore the confused look on Angie’s face and give her the ring. Swapping it, they go to put it on each others finger. Looking up and catching eyes with Jaemin, he sends you a wink in which you slightly giggle and look back at the couple. And when the words are heard to kiss the bride, everyone bursts in cheers.

After a long night of partying and watching as the happy couple parts for their honeymoon, you hear one of the bridesmaid suggest to go to Vegas soon. “It was very fun-“ “NO!” She’s suddenly cut off by the five of you, only to regain composure and look again. Chuckling, you feel Jaemin pull a strand of your hair behind your ear. Looking up and meeting eyes with him, he stares deeply into your inching closer and closer until he kisses you softly. “Hey guys check this out! Found it in my suitcase.” Chenle holds the camera he had taken with him, “Lets just say they’re graphic for sure.” “You sure we should be looking at this?” Renjun asks worriedly, “Duh we need to get a clear understanding as to what happened last night.” “Okay but we’ll see it once though then delete it.” Jisung warns, rolling his eyes Hyuck agrees. Showing everyone the set of pictures a lot of mixed reactions to them but mostly one of shock and in disbelief.

From strippers giving the guys lap dances, to getting paint over the guys. Confetti getting shot by canons while shots were made. A baseball bat no one knew how it got in the hands of Haechan as he began to break everything. A few of you giving body shots to Jaemin while the others cheered on. Ones from the club where it clearly showed when you all took the roofies and Mark on stage pole dancing. To posing on top of the police car Chenle had just stolen the keys to. To Jaemin carrying you while you held a bottle of wine with a veil over your head and the Diamond ring shining brightly on your finger. And lastly, the house in which you all stole the Mafia boss’s pet Python. And then the realization hit…

“Did we ever give him back the snake?”

Suddenly, a crowd of screams could be heard from the front of the house where the beat up Mercedes was parked at.

Oh shit.

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mrn4m3l3ss · 2 months

Note

hello!! i was wondering if i could request a platonic Jinwoo x m! reader fic (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

y/n info: he'd very introverted and antisocial, making Jinwoo his only friend. he doesn't show much emotion, but not in a menacing way.. more like.. a doll? if that makes sense. he also lives in a very empty n ominous mansion-ish building. he doesn't talk much at all, but loves listening to Jinwoo talk. the first time he saw the shadows he was kinda spooked, but sees them as friends :3

so basically.. antisocial goth y/n :3

he may or may not have watched period dramas with Beru when Jinwoo wasn't there

✮⋆˙ The boy in the window next door.˙⋆✮

「 Sung Jin-Woo x Antisocial!Goth! Male Reader ( Platonic ) 」

Versão Português

「 English is not my first language so I'm sorry for any writing mistakes ‹𝟹 」

⌗ a/n : SORRY FOR THE DELAY ANON! I don't have time to write because school is literally killing me 💀💀 But I hope you like it anyway! ‹𝟹

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

Whenever Jinwoo finds himself remembering his childhood, the first thing that comes to mind is a huge mansion that was close to his house.

The reason for this was perhaps because she was completely different from anything he had ever seen.

Its color was as dark as a starless night, causing its figure to be rooted in the back of his mind like vines.

At the entrance, it had a large black gate with sharp spikes at the top; a vast and beautiful garden with long bushes of red roses, and in the center, there was a fountain – being the statue of an angel holding a vase. As said before, the mansion was completely black, along with its windows – which seemed to have a wine-like tone.

Jinwoo remembers that when his mother took him to school, they always passed in front of the mansion's big gate. Thus, causing Jinwoo's eyes to be immediately drawn towards her, and most of the time, he would see a figure in one of the windows on the 2nd floor, but the moment he blinked, It disappeared.

A few years later he discovered that people lived in that mansion.

The (l/n) family.

On a specific day, Mr. and Mrs. (l/n) had a big party, inviting everyone from the neighborhood. His parents didn't want to seem rude, so they accepted the invitation.

Jinwoo will never admit it, but back then he was afraid of the couple. Since the (l/n) only wore black clothes, and had this cold and indifferent aura.

But the moment the couple saw their family standing at the door of the mansion, they greeted them with a big smile on their faces – shined so much that could be compared to the sun itself – and a cheerful and kind personality.

Jinwoo remembers that Mr. (l/n) couldn't stop shaking his father's hand in an excited way.

–

Jinwoo's mother has him sitting on a soft red sofa, while she goes to get him some appetizers to eat.

Seeing his mother disappear among the other guests, Jinwoo turns around, only to find himself face to face with a child sitting on the sofa facing his.

Jinwoo is startled, giving a noticeable jump. He puts his hand on his heart, feeling it beating quickly, but Jinwoo swears it was about to come out of his mouth. This definitely took 5 years off his life.

After a while, Jinwoo calms down a little. 'Who is this boy? He wasn't here before...' he breaks out in a cold sweat, looking at the mysterious boy suspiciously.

Meanwhile, he was just there, looking at Jinwoo with those big, dilated eyes – like a wild animal staring at its prey, motionless as a statue.

Jinwoo wonders if this boy is a living person or just a weird, extremely detailed doll, as he doesn't even appear to be breathing and his face doesn't seem to express any specific emotion.

Unconsciously, the two began to have a competition of who blinks first. Jinwoo was afraid that if he blinked or looked away for a second, the boy would disappear or appear next to him on the couch.

Jinwoo was startled when his mother appeared holding a plate with some appetizers – placing it on the small table between the two boys.

Then his mother started talking to the mysterious boy.

She turned around with a smile, "Jinwoo this is (m/n), son of Mrs. and Mr. (l/n), say hello to him."

–

After that day, the (l/n) family always called Jinwoo's family to have dinner together or just spend the weekend at the mansion playing golf – yes, they had a golf area in the back of the mansion.

This ended up resulting in the two families becoming great friends, along with Jinwoo and (m/n).

As time passed, Jinwoo realized that it wasn't that (m/n) didn't have emotions or feelings, he just didn't know how to express himself, ending up looking like a lifeless doll like the day they met.

Jinwoo was surprised when (m/n) said that on the day of the party, he was very excited to talk to Jinwoo, but didn't know how to start.

So (m/n) just stood there staring at him.

Years later, (m/n)'s parents moved to another city and left the mansion in (m/n)'s hands.

(m/n) didn't awaken as a hunter, so he started making dolls of all kinds. And he even made a lot of money selling them.

He had difficulty talking to other people, so the only friend he had in all these years was Sung Jin-Woo. And even when Jinwoo had his 2nd awakening, (m/n) thought it was really cool and remained his longtime friend.

But one thing was certain, Jinwoo always left Beru in (m/n)'s shadow.

The problem was, (m/n) didn't know that.

–

(m/n) was almost finishing one of the dolls from an order.

The last thing he needed to do was choose which of the two dresses looked best on the doll.

'The blue or the red?' (m/n) asked himself mentally.

"blue " replied a voice from beyond.

(m/n) jumped, causing him to hit his knee on the table. As he cringed in pain, he could hear, deep in his mind, a desperate voice repeatedly apologizing and saying something like:

"My majesty will kill me!! ".

After that day, Jinwoo introduced Beru to (m/n).

(M/n) found it strange and uncomfortable at first. For the simple fact that when he was working, someone was there with him watching what he was doing in complete silence.

So this was how Jinwoo felt when they were both kids and he just sat there and watched him play?

He was never much of a talker, but he loved listening to Jinwoo talk to him.

But after a while the two started talking to each other, and every now and then, (m/n) asks the shadow in the shape of an ant, which of the dresses would look prettier on the doll.

Just like the day they met.

And they definitely watched period dramas together at Jinwoo's house and when Jinwoo arrived from a portal, (m/n) was asleep on Beru's shoulder.

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

#male reader #open request #solo leveling x male reader #solo leveling #sung jin woo x male reader #sung jin woo #sung jinwoo #sung jinwoo x male reader #imagine #platonic

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devildom-moss · 8 months

Text

Roses for You (9)

This had all started when you noticed a link between a book on the language of flowers you had borrowed from Satan’s room and the current lessons from your Seductive Speechcraft and Magical Potions classes.

In Seductive Speechcraft, you had just reached a section on the effectiveness of spells using non-verbal communication: enchanting glances, dance, and offerings. Meanwhile, in Magical Potions, the professor had been discussing the significance of using specific quantities when concocting potions; they had spent fifteen minutes just providing examples – including adding petals from two different flowers when using them for a love spell.

You couldn’t resist discussing the use of flower language – utilizing the type, color, and quantity of the flowers – to specify the magical intent of an offering as a form of seductive speechcraft. Asmo and Solomon listened intently. The same idea popped into both of their minds, and before you knew it, everyone was looking into color and number meanings, searching for the perfect combination to convey their feelings for you and try to put you under their spell. The only rule for their little competition to charm you? Only roses are allowed.

Will you be charmed by their attempts?

Nine Roses - Barbatos

Word Count: +1,500 (sorry. I think my bias is showing.)

Eternal love

“Hey, Barbatos, why did you want to see me today?” You stood at the door to the Demon Lord’s castle.

Barbatos chuckled and stepped aside to allow you in. “What would you say if I told you I simply wanted to see you?”

“I’d say, ‘I’m glad you invited me because I missed you, too.’”

You missed the brief widening of his smile. He was delighted by your response, but the thought of someone walking into the foyer and seeing him practically fawning over you caused him to suppress that joy.

“Actually,” Barbatos started with a hint of something between hesitation and musing. “I was finishing up a task that I believe you might enjoy. Would you like to try your hand at making a flower arrangement?”

“I don’t know if I’d be any good at it, but it sounds fun.”

“Excellent. Come with me to the garden.” Barbatos turned, hiding the sudden appearance of a grin, and led the way. Perfect, he thought. It was no coincidence that you “caught him” in the middle of this particular task. He had worked hard to complete his necessary duties ahead of time so that he could spend the entire afternoon with you. This last task had been postponed until you were on your way with the hope that it would spark your interest – with the expectation that his plan would come to fruition. “I have a table set up in the garden where I was previously making arrangements. The flowers around the castle required refreshing. Although, as you can see, I’ve already completed a few.”

There was a vase slightly ahead of you on a table in the hall. You recognized the purple basil and black calla lilies, but there was something else in the arrangement – some alien- or Devildom-looking plant. It was a large dark reddish-brown, almost black, with petals that resembled wings – some pointed, demonic version of an orchid. Even stranger were the long, whisker-like tendrils that jutted out from the center. You’d never seen anything like it. “What type of flower is that?”

“I take it you mean the black bat flower?” Barbatos hummed and stopped in front of the vase.

“Is it native to the Devildom? It’s incredible. I half-expected it to growl at me as we walked by.”

“No, my dear,” Barbatos chuckled. “This plant is from the human world, but it tolerates Devildom conditions quite well; in fact, it flourishes here – much like yourself. I’ve heard about your recent interest in flower meanings, would you happen to have learned about any of these?”

“Well, I’m not sure if it’s the same for purple basil, but basil is usually a symbol of love, right?”

“It is now, although I’ve read that it once symbolized hatred. It was said to drive men insane. What an interesting turn of events. Both the calla lilies and the bat flower symbolize transformation, strength, and mystery. However, the black calla lily has a rather unique association.” Barbatos paused and turned to face you. His tail wrapped around the back of your thighs and pulled you closer to him. He held your gaze seductively and spoke, slow and heavy: “forbidden love.”

Barbatos had brought you here on purpose – both to see that particular arrangement and because the hall was quiet and not prone to foot traffic. He gave you a gentle smile that smothered the spark of heat you had felt in his eyes.

You found yourself searching for something to say – to cut the charged tension in a still-very-public part of the castle. “It’s a beautiful arrangement, Barbatos.”

Barbatos chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, dear, I lost myself momentarily. Shall we continue to the garden?”

He didn’t wait for a response before he turned and began to walk. You immediately felt his tail drop and encircle one of your calves, pulling you along with him.

The table Barbatos had set up in the garden was filled with a variety of flowers. You could see that he had nearly completed another arrangement before you had arrived. Barbatos added a few more hell roses and a sprig of black grass before he wrapped it carefully. “I’m going to place this in an empty vase. You’re welcome to use whatever you’d like to create your arrangement.”

“Will you display it in the castle when I’m done?”

“I’d like to, yes – if you don’t mind.”

You grinned to yourself as Barbatos walked away. The thought of Barbatos looking at an arrangement you made throughout the week as he went about his duties left you nervous but eager to please. Instinctively, you reached for a blue anemone. Sure, you probably should have considered what would suit the castle and the potential surrounding décor, but all you could think about was Barbatos. You added a few purple hyacinths, and cursed baby blue eyes, rotating the placement of each selection, but you felt that something was missing. The pale blue glow of hell jasmine called to you. Strange; the scent of hell jasmine was said to make a demon extremely needy. Why would Barbatos want to display these in the castle? That seems a bit dangerous. However, on closer inspection, the scent had been hampered significantly compared to other times you had run into this plant.

“Let me guess,” Barbatos spoke up as he returned to the garden. “You’re wondering if that hell jasmine has had an effect on me today?”

“Sort of.”

“Worry not. This variety has been modified. Its scent has no power over me. That honor is all yours today. It’s perfectly safe to use in your arrangement.”

“Oh!” You felt the heat rise in your face. You weren’t sure you believed him with all his sweet-talking. But that didn’t matter. If the hell jasmine was safe to use, it would make for the perfect final touch. You wanted to surprise Barbatos with your creative decisions. “Close your eyes, please.”

“As you wish.” Barbatos made no attempt to get closer and shut his eyes. You finished your arrangement and brought it to Barbatos, holding it out to him like an offering.

“Okay, you can open your eyes.” You watched as a look of pleasant surprise was sketched on Barbatos’s face. The smile on his lips filled you with an unfamiliar pride – so warm and encompassing as if you had performed a miracle. There was no restraint in that smile. “I made it with you in mind.”

“Oh my.” Barbatos brought the knuckle of his index finger to his mouth. “I beg your pardon, but would you indulge my selfishness and put your arrangement in my room? There’s an empty vase on the table near the door.”

“You want to display it in your room?”

“I would feel better knowing something so thoughtfully crafted by you was in my room. I’m afraid I would feel quite jealous allowing someone else to admire it. That is, I want the sole joy of seeing it and thinking of you each day. Is that okay?”

“Are you certain the hell jasmine has had no effect on you?” You looked at him suspiciously as if that would distract from the way he flustered you.

“I’m afraid not. This seems to be a consequence of thinking about you so much today. Now, will you do me a favor and deliver those to my room? I believe you’re adept at finding my room on your own by now,” Barbatos added a seductive tinge to the last sentence. He turned you towards the entrance and gave you a gentle nudge. The warmth of his hand lingered as you headed to his room.

When you returned, Barbatos was carefully wrapping a bouquet of blue roses and darkness thyme – likely both of which were cultivated by Barbatos. It was simple, but the blue roses were stunning, and their rarity was only complemented by an equally rare herb. Barbatos tied a silky blue bow around the bouquet and held it out to you with both hands – an oddly elegant gesture.

“Where would you like me to put these?” you asked.

“No, my dear, these are for you.”

Your eyes widened and you took a closer look at the bouquet. Nine blue roses. Nine was for a timeless, eternal love. Blue roses signified mystery and uniqueness, but they could also mean something unattainable or impossible. You frowned. “Eternal love is impossible?”

Sure, maybe Barbatos wouldn’t love you forever, but that message seemed a bit cruel.

“Not quite.” Barbatos laughed at you softly. Had his laugh not been so sweet, you might have been upset. “Blue may represent the impossible, but here it is – a dream come true. If I can be so bold, you are a dream come true – the only one I could adore like this for all of time.”

The frown fell from your face, and you were left with shock and shyness. Something must have gotten into him today. In truth, the thought of the others giving you roses only encouraged Barbatos to charm you as much as he could, and that meant he would need to bare his heart to you. Barbatos pulled you in close and kissed you with a sweetness that matched his words.

“For a demon such as myself, eternal love is a rather serious proposal; will you still accept it?” His thumb ran across your lower lip.

“That would be a dream come true.” It was your turn to kiss and fluster him now. Hopefully none of the little D.s would go into the garden that afternoon.

#this was not supposed to be this long. I just got too into it. I'll try to go back to shorter posts next time.#I took my idea and ran with it so here it is #barbatos #gn!mc #obey me series #obey me #obey me barbatos #barbatos x reader #barbatos x mc #please let this one get some much craved (by me) attention #also did I give Barbatos soft dom energy or what?

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scalingsvt8thusiast · 2 months

Text

Skin-Deep Chapter 9

summary: The one where you fall for Seungcheol amongst all the protests and insecurities. The one where you don't know that he's fallen for you too.

a/n: After this there will be one more chapter then we will enter part 3! I'm halfway through part 3 so :)

You found yourself sitting in Seungcheol’s burgundy Ferrari 812 Competizion, being driven up a winding path towards his family estate.

The view was breathtaking with rows upon rows of grape vines, surrounded by a lush green forest, all managed by his family’s gardeners according to Seungcheol. Maybe you would be better able to appreciate its beauty if you weren’t so bloody nervous.

After a lengthy discussion with Seungcheol, you had agreed to meet with his parents. Reason being the sooner you met them, the sooner your would be able to return to your normal life with Seungcheol. You spent the past few days studying up on his parents. It was ridiculous what people put on the internet these days. A quick google search and you were able to find out where his father regularly played golf and where his mother went to get her nails done. You had gone a step further and memorised every twist and turn of his family company’s meteoric rise.

In fact if asked to write a report on his parents and their company, you would probably be able to do it. No, you would probably ace it.

At your feet was a box of oranges. You weren’t sure what to bring to meet someone else’s parents so you called Seungkwan for help. The bubbly boy directed you to his family’s favourite orange supplier who guaranteed that the box you had was the best of the best. Gosh you hope his parents weren’t allergic to oranges, you were pretty sure that they weren’t. Pretty sure.

You could feel your heart beating rapidly as you neared the massive estate. Your boyfriend, oblivious to the way you were feeling, was humming happily to a song playing over the car speakers. Seungcheol put his car into park right next to the main doors. Clambering out of the car, you wiped your sweaty hands on the back of your slacks and willed yourself to breath. You had to somehow calm down as you were going to face the final boss(es) in a few seconds. You held the box of oranges close to you, it was you and these oranges against the world.

Your very lovely but very ignorant boyfriend dropped his keys into one of the attendants hands before rounding over to you with a big grin. He wrapped an arm around your waist and guided you to up the steps for the front door.

As the help lead the two of you indoors, you were marvelled at the beauty of the manor. From the pristine marble floors to the intricately designed columns decorating the massive rotunda. There were large frames hanging from the walls filled with expensive pieces of art accompanied by vases which were filled with different sorts of exotic plants. You peered up at the ceiling in awe as you noticed that it looked so familiar.

“One year my mom became obsessed with Michelangelo and all his artworks,” Seungcheol explained, “She tried to get my father to rebuild the Sistine Chapel for her, brick by brick.”

You looked at him with your mouth agape. It amazed you that people always found some new and absurd way to part with their money.

“Of course my dad didn’t do it, he thought she was crazy.” Seungcheol shrugged.

“My mom threw a fit and he appeased her by putting up all this crap.” He waved his hand above his head, not even bothering to look up.

“There’s my Cheollie!” A shrill voice came from the top of the staircase.

A woman dressed in the most elegant dress came rushing down the stairs.

“Hi mom.” Seungcheol said, already tired of his mother’s antiques. He had no idea why she was acting like she hadn’t seen him in years.

Mrs Choi pulled her son from your side and gave him a hug. Seungcheol didn’t hug her back, giving her an awkward pat on the back.

It felt like forever before Seungcheol was released from his mother’s death grip, Mrs Choi then turned to you.

“Hello, you must be y/n.” She said her smile dropping along with her tone as she gave you a once over.

“Hello Mrs Choi, thank you for inviting me to your house.” You said, giving her a polite smile.

“Of course.” She said with a clipped tone. She gave you a curious look when you realised you were still holding the box of oranges.

“These are for you Mrs Choi.” You say handing over the oversized box. “I hope you like oranges!”

“You really didn’t have to.” She said, giving you a blank stare as she received the box before immediately handing it to a nearby servant.

Turning back to her son, the smile returned to her face. “Come on, your father is already waiting in the dining room.”

You and Seungcheol were lead down a hallway and you couldn’t stop yourself from openly gawking at the art hanging on the walls, recognising a few original works from Picasso and Klimt.

“Wow Mrs Choi, you have very good taste. Your collection is breath-taking!” You said, trying to earn some brownie points.

“Oh, are you an art collector as well?” Mrs Choi inquired curiously.

“Not really, just an avid admirer.” You replied with a gracious smile.

Mrs Choi gave a hum of understanding.

Just as you were about to strike up another conversation about art, the three of you reached the dining room.

The dining table was long enough to seat at least 20 people. Stained glass windows lined every inch of the back wall showing the massive garden behind the estate. Mr Choi sat at the head of the table, right in front of the stained glass. You felt like a hero in an action novel about to face the villain.

“Father.” Seungcheol said, giving his father a curt nod.

Mr Choi, who was busy looking at his phone, didn’t bother to acknowledge the greeting.

Seungcheol gave you an amused look as he guided you to your assigned seats.

“Oh are other people joining us?” You said, gesturing to the empty chairs.

“No, my parents just like the extra chairs, makes it feel like the Last Supper.” He said dryly. At this point he couldn’t wait to finish dinner and go home.

Sitting on your chair, you weren’t even given a chance to breath before a plate of food appeared in front of you. You honestly had no idea what you had just been served, it looked like beef with dried fish skin lining the sides.

“So, you must be y/n.” Mr Choi said, cutting into his meal.

“Yes, thank you so much for inviting me to dinner, sir.” You said, you sat at full attention, not wanting to miss any questions that would be thrown your way.

“What do your parents do?” Mrs Choi asked.

“Mom.” Seungcheol warned as he was biting into his piece of meat.

“I just want to know what her parents do Cheol, no harm here.” His mother quipped, before turning to give you a smile.

A little creeped out by her smile, you answered “My mom is a tailor and my father is in construction.”

“I see, what sort of construction?” Mr Choi asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, my dad does all sorts of construction here and there, he doesn’t really have a set job.” You replied, keeping a smile on your face.

“Do you work?” Mrs Choi asked, not really giving a damn about construction.

“I do, I work as a barista at a cafe near the university.” You explained.

“It’s good to work these days, maybe my son could learn a thing or two from you.” Mr Choi mused, eyeing Seungcheol who was busy downing his tea.

You gave a nervous laugh, not knowing where this conversation was going.

“I try to work so my parents don’t have to send me money.” You offered. “I like to support myself.”

This time Mrs Choi gave you a genuine smile. “I remember thinking like you back in my younger days. Don’t you, honey?”

Mr Choi smiled at the memory, “We used to sell home-cooked food just to make ends meet, on top of that we were sending money home to our parents by the time we were your age.”

“It was tough times but it made us understand the value of hard work.” Mrs Choi continued.

“Your parents must be very proud of you.” Mr Choi said with a note of admiration.

“I hope so,” You joked, content that his parents seemed to have warmed up to you.

Seungcheol gave you a reassuring smile as you tried your best to eat whatever it was that was sitting in front of you.

The rest of dinner was filled with conversation about Mr and Mrs Choi’s hardships, they loved to talk about how they built their company from nothing to what it was today. As you ate the various plates of food filled with mystery meat, Seungcheol’s parents continued to feed you stories of their painstaking efforts in assembling a business while raising a son.

This led to you and Seungcheol being invited for dessert, much to your boyfriend’s dismay. The four of you moved to the drawing room where you were currently being served the largest slice of tiramisu you had ever seen in your life.

“Eat as much as you want y/n, don’t feel embarrassed.” His mother resounded, grabbing onto the maid who was serving the tiramisu. “Have some more!”

“Oh no Mrs Choi, I’m really very full!” After 10 courses of food, you really couldn’t take another slice of tiramisu.

“Well, alright, if you insist.” Mrs Choi said, sounding dejected.

While Seungcheol was annoyed that he was forced to stay longer than he planned, he was happy that you appeared to be enjoying yourself and his parents seemed to like you.

“So, y/n, what are your plans for the future?” Mr Choi questioned, as he settled into the leather armchair.

“Erm, well, I guess the next step would be to graduate.” You responded, unsure what he meant.

“Do you plan on working in the area?” Mrs Choi asked, leaning into your personal space.

“Oh, I guess that really depends on my parents. If they want me home then I will go back.” You explained.

“What a dedicated daughter.” Mrs Choi marvelled, directed at Seungcheol more than you.

“Well y/n, it has been such a pleasure meeting you.” Mr Choi said, smiling. “I’m sure you’ll understand when I say that you aren't suitable for our son.”

What?

“Dad!” Seungcheol snapped as he sat up from his chair.

“I’m sorry,” You said, confused, “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

“Look, you are really the most polite girl I’ve ever met, your parents raised you so well!” Mrs Choi chimed in. “But you just aren’t right for our son. Seungcheol was brought up with a certain lifestyle, he needs someone who is similar to him to help in the future.”

You mouth fell open in shock, no one has ever said that to you before.

“Mom!” Seungcheol turned to give his mother a glare.

“You weren’t raised for our lifestyle.” Mr Choi said with a businesslike tone.

“That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard in my entire life!” Seungcheol threw his hands up in the air. “I’m not going to sit here- “

Mr Choi ignored his son’s comments and pointed a finger a him. “You are going to take over the business and when you do you need the right girl to be by your side!”

“Ok, that’s it. We’re leaving.” Seungcheol announced before pulling you to your feet and heading for the door.

“Cheol, stop acting like a child, you know we’re right!” Mrs Choi yelled from her seat, not bothering to stop her son.

“You marry her and everything we’ve built will go right down the drain!” Mr Choi thundered.

Those were the last words you heard before the door slammed shut.

a/n: Criticism is welcomed <3 Much love :D

#scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol fic #scoups fic #seungcheol fluff #scoups fluff #choi seungcheol #scoups #seventeen seungcheol #seventeen scoups #seventeen #svt #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #svt fic #svt x reader #svt fluff

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sukunastoy · 1 year

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True Form Sukuna Comfort Fic

Just something short and sweet with TF Sukuna. ♥️

(This is a re submission, testing out my tags and things cause I was hidden/shadowbanned or something and seeing if the problem has been resolved yet. ✨)

"Oh god, h-he'll kill me!"

"He isn't going to kill you...I promise. This is not anything that would need such a violent reaction." You said calmly to the maid while helping her pick up the shattered pieces of a vase that had sat in the entrance of The King's estate.

Maybe once upon a time, that was something these maids needed to worry about, but ever since your arrival, it seemed to be a distant fear in the minds of most.

You had no say in the matter, being surrendered as a peace offering from your clan. Initially, you were assumed to be a sacrifice, killed upon your arrival for being the first and only daughter of your clan leader. But, to keep the King from laying waste to everyone, something precious and of value was demanded instead, and it happened to be you. He took you as his bride, but there wasn't any love involved. It was merely an insult to your sorcerer clan family.

There were no sons to take your father's place, and the bloodline would have continued with you; had you taken someone else's hand in marriage- but the King made sure to keep that from happening.

You accepted your new role with grace, the knowledge of keeping your clan safe being a stronghold in your emotions and reasonings. However, what happened after you got here was nothing you could have expected. The King wasn't prepared to put you on a spike or burn you alive to make a statement. He demanded you stay within his kingdom and serve him alongside the other maids and workers of his estate. You did your duty, being on your hands and knees scrubbing floors, tending the gardens, washing clothes in the river, and even doing other things the King hadn't mentioned you needed to do.

You had fresh flowers adorning the halls and rooms of his estate, making sure they were always vibrant and blossoming. You delegated some of the maids what tasks to do, and even took on some of the chores they struggled to accomplish out of fear. Someone had to help prepare the Kings meals, and it wasn't a secret what those meals sometimes consisted of...

It wasn't your business to ask where some of these meals came from, so you prepared them to the best of your ability. The King wouldn't dismiss you from the table until he was finished, but you remained at his side patiently. Despite working alongside other maids and servants, they still treated you with respect. You were still the Kings bride after all.

Once you finished helping the maid pick up all the pieces of the vase, someone caught her eye. You knew exactly who it was when she dropped her hands and knees in a subservient bow, body trembling in worry.

"M-my King, I-I deeply a-apologize for m-my careless actions!"

Turning to stand up fully in-front of the maid while looking at your husband, you smiled at him gently.

"It was a mistake, nothing that isn't fixable." You said softly while taking one of his large hands into yours. The number of lives his hands had claimed wasn't even alarming at this point. You could feel his muscles relax as you brought the warm palm to your cheek, kissing the heel of his thumb in the process.

"You intend to fix it yourself, then?" That deep, timbre voice; though terrifying to many- soothed your soul in a way you couldn't even begin to describe.

"Of course, my King." You promised, smiling up at him while placing your hand over his against your face. Knowing he could crush your entire skull with just a swift grip made this warm palm all the more comforting in an odd way.

And it was because you knew he wouldn't ever do such a thing...at least not to you. His intimidating gaze shifted from the maid to you, and watching those crimson hues give up on their anger made you caress his hand tenderly.

"Then that is what I expect." He commanded, the pad of his thumb ever so briefly smoothing under your eye before pulling away. You gave a slight bow of respect before his departure and then turned back to the maid, who was still trembling with her face pressed into the tatami mats.

"Come on; we'll fix it together."

Joining your King later in the evening at the hot springs near his home, you remained on the ground at the edge, massaging his massive shoulders as he relaxed.

"I hope the end of this day is finding you well, my King." You spoke gently as your smaller hands worked into the muscles to relax him. He hummed in response, leaning his head back into your lap. A smile tugged at your lips while you looked down at him, hesitantly moving one of your hands to cup his cheek.

"Join me."

He finally said before lifting his head and moving forward into the water more, turning to watch you obey his order. You slightly laughed while swinging your legs into the water but hugged yourself in embarrassment. "You know I can't swim."

"Oh, come now, it's not that deep."

"My King, you're also much taller." You pointed out through a giggle, slowly swishing your legs in the water, enjoying the warmth surrounding them. Taking a moment to survey the large rocks beneath the surface, you shifted into the water, carefully holding onto anything you could to keep your footing. Before you got too far, you turned your back to Sukuna, removing your petite robe to lay on the ground at the water's edge. Honestly, the two of you had never spent any intimate moments together, and you hadn't been uncovered in his presence. But you knew better than completely submerging yourself in the water with clothing. Wrapping an arm across your chest, you turned and ventured toward the center where your husband was waiting. The water started to engulf you, and it got up to your shoulders before stopping, still a reasonable distance from him.

"All the way." He chuckled, able to stand in the deepest area with his chest still out of the water. Then, one of those large hands reached out toward you, and for a moment, you felt your face flush with a warmth that wasn't from the heat of the springs.

Quickly judging the distance, you shoved off the rock, flopping forward into the water without grace. You scrambled for his hand with both of yours, clinging to him desperately as you no longer felt the stone bottom under your feet. A cat being tossed in the water looked more elegant than you had at that moment, and the blush across your face proved your embarrassment.

Sputtering through the water splashed onto your face, you laughed while keeping both arms wrapped around his. Your feet held together against his thigh to keep you above the water enough, so you didn't feel like you were sinking in too much.

He smirked in humor while wrapping an arm around our waist, helping you stay afloat while he sank to be face level with you.

"I'm happy you're in a good mood." You smiled at him softly, gently reaching out to cup his cheek. "It brings me joy when you're pleased, my King..."

"What other things bring you joy?"

"Oh, it's not a concern...just so long as you are-"

He halted your words with a soft kiss on your lips, catching you off guard. Your eyes widened in shock and nervousness when your gaze was locked with his, unable to look away from those intense eyes. He stepped back slowly, sitting down and resting you upon his lap to face him. Your knees pressed upon his thighs, and once his lips separated from yours, you tucked your face into his neck, hiding bashfully. He's never displayed any form of affection...and this was so sudden. At the moment, you weren't sure how you felt about it.

You had gotten so comfortable with him over the time you'd spent at his side, but mainly you served him just as any maid had done.

"Why are you hiding?" He asked quietly, one of those enormous hands caressing our back ever so gently. The tips of his claws glided carefully along your skin, making you shudder in amazement to know he could honestly do whatever he wanted to you at any given moment. Yet, he refrained...

"I just wasn't expecting such a thing." You murmured with honesty, leaning back to address your King correctly.

"I know we're married, but It isn't for usual reasons...So I never imagined anything happening." Then, feeling one of his hands cup your cheek so tenderly, you leaned into it through comfort.

"Are you opposed to being my wife?"

"No, of course not. I was offered, but I still accepted your hand willingly and with the highest honor. The King of Curses keeping me at his side? Even if for your amusement, you've been so generous and kind to me. I couldn't even envision returning home or going elsewhere..."

Kneeling upon the lap of the most feared being in the known world brought a feeling into your heart you couldn't explain. His hands never held you in place against your will, and you never winced in fear when he spoke. You've seen him kill, seen him dispose of disobeying servants without a second thought, and you've even prepared some of the grotesque delicacies he enjoyed on occasion. But, you had a warm bed, food in your belly, a safe home, and even enough respect from your King to talk him down from discarding a maid for something trivial. The estate felt brighter the longer you were here, and the maids and other servants became less tense with each passing day. You fixed minor blemishes throughout his home, happily applying any skill you could where needed. This was your husband's home, but it was also your home, and you took pride in the care of it.

When Sukuna relaxed in the courtyard, you would tend to the gardens. Any fruit in nearby trees would also be picked and offered to your King. In the moments you sat on his lap and relaxed, you had never felt safer. Being in the arms of such a disaster would inflict pure trauma upon most. But it only brought you peace...as if you were being spared.

As your King pulled your body against him in the water, you whimpered softly for him. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he embraced you, and you smiled fondly at the closeness.

That was the first time the two of you shared such a tender moment, and you cherished it closely. Your husband wasn't a man of many words or emotions, and you accepted that fact quickly. When he did decide to display affection towards you, it was such an honorable gift. Most of the chores you used to do were banned from you now, as the wife of Sukuna shouldn't be cleaning floors or cooking meals.

You still gathered flowers and pampered your King when you could, enjoying the good mood he'd be in from your simple actions. The maids and other servants would enjoy moments with you, as well as you talked to them throughout the day. You were surprised to find that many of them came from worse places, which is why they do their best for the King. Though Sukuna could be a terrifying monster, so long as they did everything they were supposed to do, he more or less left them alone. The ones who disregarded his rules and expectations were disposed of without hesitation. You knew he was very strict when you arrived but seeing him relax and ease up over time was comforting. Were you melting that ice around his cold heart so quickly? It almost felt wrong to take credit for it...

#Sukuna jjk #sukuna #Sukuna fluff #Sukuna smut #Ryoumen Sukuna #sukuna ryoumen x reader #true form sukuna #jjk

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shelbystales · 10 months

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Ceramic Lessons - Part one

Cillian Murphy X Reader - Masterlist

Summary: after much insistence from his sister, Cillian attends a ceramics class with her. To his surprise, he feels a connection to the teacher, you. Will this connection go any further or will it be smashed like a bad ceramic project?

Warning: nothing so far, this is a slow chapter.

A/N: this is my first time writing for Cillian, so a small reminder that this has nothing to do with his real life. I’m not sure where this is goin or if it is going anywhere but here it is. I`ve been going to some ceramic classes myself and let me tell you… it`s sexy as fuuuck.

English is my second language, so I apologize in advance for any grammar mistake

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Cillian never imagined himself stepping into a ceramic studio on a Saturday morning. He was convinced to attend after much insistence from his sister Sile, and it was weariness that eventually persuaded him.

She had been attending the same class for a few months, and according to her, it was the best thing one could ever imagine. The connection with ceramics and the meditative state during the class provided her with some peace that no therapy ever could.

Cillian had gone through a divorce six months ago, leaving him emotionally strained. His siblings, Orla, Sile, and Páide, had been trying to help him cope, as it was a complicated divorce. However, he found solace in focusing on his work and being there for his son, which led him to isolate himself a bit. His siblings have been trying to get him out of that isolation, something that he admired (because it showed they cared) but never asked for.

Almost every Saturday, Cillian and his brother used to play poker, an activity he despised, but was forced to attend by his brother. Spending hours staring at cards and poker-faced men was far from his idea of fun. So, when his sister Sile kept praising the ceramics class, it began to seem not such a bad idea.

The studio was located in a serene corner of the city, surrounded by greenery, and the entrance door was a soft baby pink, contrasting with the white walls. It had no name calling you in, if you passed in front of it, you would never know it was a pottery class studio.

"Ready for the best experience of your life?" Sile asked excitedly as they walked towards the door.

Cillian smiled and replied, "Let's see."

The pink door swung open, revealing a spacious area with a wall adorned with glass doors that led to a small garden filled with large plants and some garden benches and tables. The rectangular space wasn't too wide or too deep, just the perfect size. It felt homy and welcoming.

An incense burned, filling the air with the scent of citronella, a fragrance Cillian wasn't sure he liked yet.

The studio's floor was made of burnished concrete, and the white walls were adorned with numerous shelves overflowing with various ceramic works.

In one corner of the room, Cillian spotted some equipment he recognized as a pottery wheel after watching a video of his sister creating a small vase. In another corner, workbenches were filled with an assortment of tools.

Cillian found himself standing in admiration for a minute, taking in the surroundings. Everything appeared chaotic yet perfectly organized at the same time.

On the veranda, around the tables and chairs, there were women chatting. Other women were scattered throughout the space, and a man was cutting and weighing the clay.

"Come on, let me introduce you," Sile said, pulling her brother's arm, and he went along with it.

The women greeted him and tried to hide their whispers and smiles, but someone who has been in the spotlight for many years could pick up on those nuances. He took a deep breath and decided to ignore the attention while answering a question from one of the women about his latest film.

After, another question followed and then another… Cillian wanted to escape from that place. He looked at his sister, who gave him an apologetic look and tried to change the subject, but it wasn't necessary.

"Alright, shall we?" a sweet and gentle voice interrupted, capturing the women's attention as they began to stand up. Saving Cillian from that interrogation.

Looking back, Cillian saw the woman whose voice it was. You, with your hair tied in a completely messy bun, wore loose, worn-out denim overalls with straps, and they were completely stained, which he assumed was clay. Under the overalls, you had a simple black workout top, and you were pulling pottery wheels to form a semicircle in the center of the room.

You seemed like a reflection of the studio—messy yet perfectly presented.

"This is our teacher," Sile whispered. "Isn't she beautiful?"

Cillian tore his eyes away from you and frowned at his sister, questioning her true intentions for bringing him here. It wouldn't be the first time Sile tried to set him up with someone.

"Come, let me introduce you," she said, pulling him by the arm again. This time, Cillian hesitated at first but allowed himself to be led by his sister.

"Y/n, this is my brother, Cillian," Sile introduced as they reached you.

With a gentle smile, you greeted him with a nod. Sile has been telling you for ages that she’s trying to convince Cillian to attend one of your classes. "Hi, Sile talks about you a lot. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Well, welcome to my class."

"The pleasure is mine," he replied, smiling. "Sile says this class is the best thing in her life right now, so I had to come and see for myself."

"Really? That's good to hear, Sile” you said genuinely happy “Oh, I guess we better protect your clothes from stains. Sile, please go to the kiln room and get an apron for your brother so he won't get his clothes dirty," you said, and Sile nodded leaving you both.

Looking around, Cillian noticed all the women putting on aprons and getting ready.

"Have you worked with clay before?" you asked him, and he shook his head.

“No, i haven’t" he answered

“Hm, I hope you enjoy it. Oh, don't get frustrated if you can't make anything you like today," you smiled "It's harder than it looks, but I’ll help you through it" you chuckled and turned your back, walking over to the man who was cutting the clay.

The man's name is Loui and he uses your studio to produce his art. As he is still a small artist, he doesn't have much financial return, so his way to pay you for the space is by helping you during the classes. He’s also quite a good friend and confidant .

As you talked to Lou, Sile returned with a black apron and handed it to Cillian.

"There was a hot pink one inside, almost took it, but felt sorry for you," she laughed.

"Good sign of character," he joked, putting on the apron.

"Come and get your clay," you said, handing a piece of clay to each person. "Today, we'll work with 300 grams. You can make plates, vases, or jars. So big pieces today guys" you explained to everyone

"Can we split and make two things?" one of the women who bombarded Cillian with questions earlier asked.

"No, Helena. We'll work with the whole piece of clay, stepping out of our comfort zone," you replied, and she nodded, a bit frustrated.

After everyone got their clay, they moved to the workbench, now covered with marble slabs, and began kneading the clay as if they were kneading bread dough.

You turned on your sound box and put on some nice lo-fi music before going to Cillian and explaining to him this step.

"This step is the most important," you said, standing next to him, who observed everything a bit lost. "We knead the clay to remove air bubbles and make it smoother. If there are bubbles, the piece might crack during firing. Let me show you how it's done." You took the ball of clay gently from his hand and guided him to the counter. "To avoid back pain, it's good to put your supporting foot forward and use your whole body to move." You began explaining and kneading the clay. "You make the movement with the palm of your hand pushing, and pulling with your fingers. It will form something like a cow's face." You made two holes in the indents of your palm and two on the side that wasn't kneaded. "See?" You asked with a smile, and he nodded, seeing that it indeed resembled a cow's face. "Now, your turn. Do it for about five minutes and you should be good" you left the clay on the table for him and watched him make his first move.

As usual, for someone who had never done it before, Cillian's movements were a bit off.

So, for him to feel the right movement with his wrists, you approached and pressed your hand on top of his.

"Let's go, without fear. You can press the clay harder. Don’t need to be gentle," you instructed.

Cillian was afraid to admit it, the moment your hands touched his, he felt himself blush. The choice of words were also a bit ambiguous, making him blush more.

With some instructions, you corrected him, and by the end of the five minutes, he was doing the movement almost perfectly.

"With practice, you'll get the hang of it," you said with a smile. "But now, it's good. Choose a pottery wheel and have a seat. I’ll be right with you."

Cillian followed your instructions and chose a pottery wheel to start his work.

“Liking so far?” Sile asked, sitting next to him.

“Better than poker” he answered making Sile smile “a little of an arm workout as well” Sile chuckled

“Yeah, where do you thinking I’ve been gaining all these muscles” she flexed her arms, showing off her biceps

“You are adorable,” Cillian said with a smile, not impressed by her biceps.

You finished helping one of the students set their clay on the wheel and went to give Cillian some attention.

You had to admit that having him in your studio was a bit weird. Yes, Sile has been telling you for ages that she would convince him to come, but to actually have him here, it’s weird.

I mean, he is Tommy fucking Shelby and now fucking Oppenheimer. Why the hell is he here in your tiny and messy studio? It was almost as if you felt intimidated by his presence.

Just treat him like any other student, you told yourself as you walked towards him.

As you approached him, he felt a mix of nervousness and excitement. Making his heart beat a little faster, a feeling that he weirdly enjoyed.

"So, what do you intend to make?" you asked, curious, while adjusting the wheel's position in front of him.

"I'm not sure yet. Maybe a vase," he replied, looking at the lump of clay in front of him.

"Going with the classic. Great choice. Alright girls, and Cillian” you chuckled as you were now, talking to everyone “now let's start rolling. Anyone needs anything, I'm here.” You turned to Cillian and sat in front of him on a tiny wooden bench. “You need some more attention. I’ll guide you step by step. Let's begin. First, wet your hands to prevent the clay from sticking," you suggested, showing him how to do it. "Now, place the clay in the center of the wheel and press lightly with your hands to secure it. Press the pedal, you will see it will start spinning. Adjust the speed on your feet as you feel more comfortable with it"

Cillian followed your guidance carefully, feeling the cool texture of the clay between his fingers. Slowly, he started shaping it, giving form to what would be the beginning of a vase.

"That's right, mold it slowly, feel the clay, and let it guide your hands," you encouraged him. “Now here, different from before, you have to be gentle, the clay won’t suport much pressure. Just feel it.” You explained to him.

Cillian followed your instructions, but it was indeed more challenging than he expected. Once he seemed to be doing good, you stepped away from his side, letting him explore the clay on his own.

The clay didn't quite follow Cillian's hand movements, and just when he thought he was getting the hang of it, the clay would break or warp in a way he didn't intend.

"Having a hard time there?" Sile asked, laughing, after Cillian gave a frustrated slap to the clay, trying to reshape it in the pottery wheel.

"I think I wasn't born for this, Sil" Cillian grumbled.

"Patience, bro," Sile said with a smile. "Ask y/n for help. She can assist you."

You were helping another student mold a large bowl, the biggest piece in the room. You applied pressure to the student's hand, which in turn shaped the clay.

The atmosphere in the room shifted between moments of conversation and laughter to moments of absolute silence, where everyone was fully focused on their work. This current moment was one of silence, and you were completely dedicated to assisting the student, appearing almost in tune with her.

Cillian thought about calling you over, but he preferred to keep observing you work.

Your face radiated with a large smile, even though it was now speckled with clay. You looked in your natural habitat, completely confident, happy. You looked like a genuinely happy person to him.

"I'm going to leave you now," you said to the student.

"No, I'm going to ruin everything!" She said, laughing. "Please, help me finish."

"What!? No way. You need to finish it on your own; you can do it," you chuckled.

"What if I mess everything up?" She asked, feeling insecure.

"Then you make another one," you replied. "Remember, with clay, you can always start over," you winked at her and gently removed your hands from the piece in front of you.

Walking around the room, you assisted another student before going over to Cillian, who was struggling to mold a not-so-promising sphere.

"Having difficulties?" You asked, sitting in front of him again.

His extremely blue eyes met yours, and for a second, you felt a flutter in your stomach that took your breath away. Little did you know that he felt the same.

"Yeah, I can't seem to get the clay to obey me," he replied after clearing his throat.

"Okay, do what you were doing. Let me see what we can improve," you said, and he nodded. He began to apply pressure to the clay, shaping it into a vertical cone.

He continued working on it as you observed his moves, analyzing his technique.

“Ok, i know I told you to be gentle, but try applying more pressure to your fingers, you have to maintain a steady motion, your fingers here are weak, they’re not doing much work” you advised, your voice calm and encouraging “here, excuse me. Let me show you” you place your hands over his, providing a subtle help. “Feel the clay respond to your touch, almost as if it’s guiding you, but at the same time you have to guide it, so no weak fingers” you smiled

Cillian couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. There was something about you that just made his blood rush faster through his veins.

It wasn't just the touch itself, but the way you looked at him with those warm and encouraging eyes that sent shivers down his spine.

In that moment, the sensation of your hand on his felt intimate. almost as sexual tension grew between the both of you. He assumed this feeling might have been a projection of his own desires, a reflection of the void left by his recent divorce. But he couldn't deny the way his heart skipped a beat when your hand touched his.

The way his eyes intensely locked onto yours, and the subtle lingering touches exchanged during the process, sent shivers through your body as well.

You tried to focus on the task at hand, helping him shape the clay, but your heart raced with every brush of your fingers against his.

This had never happened before in your classes, and you'd had many male students before.

You tried to push those feelings aside, reminding yourself to be professional, but you found yourself drawn to him in a way that surprised and excited you.

With your guidance the clay finally started to get a nice vase shape and you broke contact with him completely. After breathing deeply you smiled

“I think you’ve got it now” you said and he cleared his throat and nodded

“Yea, thank you” he answered almost in a whisper

You stood and went to the kiln room, to get a glass of water.

You felt like you needed a break after an intense moment like that and wondered if he felt the same, or if it was your simple desire for that hot Hollywood star.

"So, did you like it?" Sile asked her brother after the class ended.

She was placing her vase on the shelf. She had done a much better job than him, her vase was almost perfect. Each student had a designated space on the shelf where their sculptures were left to dry.

"I liked it," he replied, taking off the apron.

"Are you coming back next week?" She asked, with excitement in her eyes, happy at the idea of having her brother with her during the classes.

"I think so," he answered, his gaze fixed on you as you praised one of the students for their work.

Sile did a little dance of joy. "We need to ask y/n to make some space for you on the shelves," she said excitedly and went to talk to you.

After Sile told you that her brother would continue with the classes, you looked at him, smiled and approached.

"I'm glad to know you liked it," you said. "The vase turned out well."

"It was a good challenge... and the vase is mediocre. Leaning to one side and squashed on the other," he laughed.

"It's great for a first project, Cillian," you smiled. "Let me make some space around here," you said, and began to rearrange the shelves.

Upon closer inspection, Cillian noticed that each shelf had a name written on it. Judging by the number of shelves, it seemed like you had many students.

You took the vase from him and showed him where his shelve would be.

“I must say i’m happy to hear we will meet again next week” you told him and he smiled

“So am I” he told you, with his piercing blue eyes locked on yoursl, once again making your body go through weird waves of excitement.

Shit, is that his super power? you asked yourself.

You thanked everyone for their presence and you wished them a happy weekend as you went on helping Loui clean the studio for the next class.

#cillianmurphy #cillian murphy #cillian series #cillian x fem!reader #cillian fluff #cillian fic #cillian x y/n #cillian one shot #cillian x reader #peakyblinders #tommy shelby #peaky blinder fanfic #thomas shelby #oppenheimer

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hyperfixat · 6 months

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HAIII!!! ive been browsing your blog a lot recently and i love your writing sm!!! i wanted to ask if you'd be interested in writing the brothers (+ datables, luke, and others, if youd like!) living with an mc who is obsessed with plants? like to the point where the HoL has at least a few plants in every room? idk i just think it'd be interesting to see how human world plants behave in the devildom, and if special equipment (think grow lights, nutrient rich soil, etc) would need to be involved! im also picturing mc ordering plants off of (human world) ebay and the sender being confused like "wtf who is this what is the House of Lamentation"

UAAHHH first of all i love the idea of more noticable differences in the human realm vs the devildom and the game (understandably) keeps it more toned down and appealing to the average connoisseur.

like i own a few plants and have a small garden, and they stay alive and well in my house. bcs i live on earth. But. the devildom being soooo different in terms of soil and atmosphere… delectable.

i may make more stuff involving this idea but for now..

moving on (~500 words):

It’s been a rough few weeks in the Devildom, and not for the reasons many may suspect. It’s not the literal demons, rather the environment, more specifically the death that seems to cling to the air. The atmosphere, both in and outside of the House of Lamentation is suffocating.

It’s not like a couple of house plants would fix this issue, but perhaps the placebo of having some fresh living plants from the human realm would help ease the atmosphere.

Eventually you build up the courage to knock on Mammon's door to ask about and if he could get you an indoor plant. You aren’t picky, truly. After a little discussion you leave a victor, with Mammon having assured you he’d get you the best plant he can find.

It’s a dinky thing and looks like broccoli, but you love it. It’s green, a far cry from the toxic purples and deep blues that the Devildom flora holds. It’s home.

And what is Mammon to do when he sees the look on your face when he gave you that plant, but to get you more? He’s a weak demon! (for you alone.)

The others catch on, save for Lucifer (too closed off to associate so intimately with you), and Belphegor (trapped).

It starts small, Asmo presenting you with a bundle of live herbs he had imported from the human realm, assuring that they’d help with getting your beauty sleep. Beelzebub would occasionally gnaw on some of the leaves in your room, so together you grow some lettuce, so he would avoid getting a tummy ache from the inedible plants.

While you were doing some schoolwork for RAD in the library Satan had sat across from you, a large encyclopedia in his hands, detailing all human realm plants and their care and upkeep. He explains that he noticed your interest in keeping plants and is here to offer his assistance with acquiring and maintaining your collection.

Having all the plants around really does help improve your mood. It provides a hobby and a connection to nature that cannot be replicated elsewhere.

Though you may have underestimated how much space your room has, because it’s a battlefield trying to navigate your bedroom without knocking a vase or pot over. It seems your tripping as you try and place a eucalyptus (a gift from Mammon) had gathered some attention from a hallway passerby.

Lucifer stares.

He doesn’t visit your room often, but he’s fairly certain the only human realm plant they had installed was a tree, not whatever jungle you have going on. And jungle is a bit of an understatement.

You’d roped Leviathan into helping you set up some moss and algae tanks, just to add to the green that is your room.

“This is a fire hazard, MC.”

And with that, your greenhouse of a room gets spread throughout the HoL, a few plants in each room. It is a little frustrating to have to walk the whole length of the house when you need to water them and give them the concoction Solomon mixed up for you to help the plants not wither away in the hellish environment.

#verified hyperfixat post #obey me #obey me x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me x mc #demon brothers x reader #om! x reader #om x mc #obey me headcanons #obey me headcanon #om hcs #obey me drabble #obey me demons #obey me silly

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dilfspitdrinker · 10 months

Text

Let The Light In | Joel Miller x f!reader

Description: You’ve been babysitting Joel Miller’s daughter all summer. No matter now much you try to deny it, you know you’re into him. But it’s just a little crush that you thought could never be reciprocated, until one fateful phone call. The shift between you two is irresistible, and you’re in for more than you ever anticipated. A/N: guys I got so stuck on this ch that I waited until I myself was wine drunk to write some of the dialogue. Lit a mf candle. Listened to wine pon you by doja cat and drunk in love by Beyoncé on repeat. Also I thought SO HARD about whether or not they should boink in this chapter (spoiler: they don’t SORRYYY). Also here’s some pics of what Joel looks like for this date bc u need to see the vision, the boy is absolutely gift wrapped.

Masterlist

Chapter 6

Friday finally rolled around, and you’d been buzzing all day. You started getting ready for your date two hours in advance, just to be sure you gave yourself enough time. Joel hadn’t told you just how fancy this restaurant would be, you only knew it was not Olive Garden, and presumably nicer. You rummaged through your closet, cycling through a few options before settling on a little black dress. Classic, you hoped Joel would like it. You kept it simple with light makeup, but debated heavily between a pinky gloss or a wine red lipstick. You swiped on the gloss, and it looked good, but you felt it wasn’t enticing enough. You wiped it off and applied the lipstick with precision. Taking a step back, you examined yourself in the mirror. It tied the whole look together nicely. You’d never gotten this dressed up for a date, certainly not any first date. It made you giddy to think that Joel was already treating you with such care.

You didn’t start feeling nervous until you received an “on my way” text. You fiddled with your jewelry, perched on the edge of the bed. You knew Joel would be a gentleman, you were more concerned about yourself. You desperately didn’t want to come off the wrong way.

The doorbell rang, making you jump out of your thoughts. You hurried to the door, clammy hands smoothing down your dress. One last deep breath before twisting the handle. One last steadying thought – it’s just Joel – and you swung open the door.

You thought you might collapse at the sight of him. His hair was combed back, a new look from his usual tousled locks, and it made your fingers twitch, itching to mess it up again. Over his broad frame was a dark green button up, with the top two buttons undone, allowing your eyes to devour his collarbone and neck. You needed to get his skin between your teeth before the night was over. Your gaze drifted lower, and in his hands, flowers. He held them out to you with a gorgeous smile, “Evening, darlin’.”

“Joel,” was all you could say at first, and it was written all over your face that you were entranced by him. Watching you absorb his appearance, he wondered if you’d even looked at yourself. From the second you opened the door, he was smitten. You looked nothing short of stunning. The silhouette of your dress was beyond flattering. That color of lipstick accentuated the shape of your lips, and he had to hold himself back from kissing it all off. There would be time for that later.

You took the bouquet and threw your arms around his shoulders, in lieu of a hello. His large hands splayed over your back. Up close, you could smell his cologne, instantly making your loins stir.

The light scent of the flowers reminded you to pull away before getting too lost in him. “Let me put these in a vase real quick.”

He stayed in the doorway, but leaned over to watch while you filled a vase with water. “The sink behaving itself?”

“Yeah, works perfect.”

“And the cabinets?”

“No longer squeaky.”

“Good,” he nodded once.

You glanced at him repeatedly while arranging the flowers, hardly believing your eyes. It felt surreal to see Joel Miller leaning against your doorway, waiting to take you on a date.

He detected your nervousness, and wondered if you could sense his. It had been more than a decade since he’d had any romantic prospects, and his heart pressured him to win you over.

It wasn’t lost on you how his eyes had been glued to you this whole time. It lent some confidence to your stride as you grabbed your purse and returned to him. On the way out to the truck, it was impossible to ignore how his ass sat awfully nicely in his gray slacks.

He took you to a restaurant you’d never heard of, but that wasn’t saying much. Most places in Austin you were still unfamiliar with. You found yourself hoping Joel would take you all over the city.

He gave you a hand getting out of the truck, which you readily accepted. You marveled at how small your hand felt enveloped in his own, and he still held it as you walked into the restaurant, and still didn’t let go until you were seated. You both looked over the menu quietly, murmuring about what looked good. A blanket of unexpected shyness hung in the air between you.

He cleared this throat, “You look amazing. Meant to say that earlier, but you really did have me speechless.”

Heat rose in your cheeks, “You look great too.”

His mouth quirked upwards, but there was something behind his eyes that said he didn’t believe you, not fully.

Your gaze dropped back to the menu, unable to say it while looking right at him, “I mean it. You’re very handsome Joel.”

His smirk was all too audible, “Oh yeah? I clean up nice?”

“You do, but you’re handsome all the time.”

“I don’t know about all the time. You’ve never seen me at work.”

An image of him hard at work on a job site flashed in your mind. Muscles rippling, tanned and glistening with sweat from the sun. You’d do anything to see that, but didn’t even need to to be certain. “All. The time.”

He chuckled, “I’ll take your word for it.”

That left him with the question, since when? Had you always found him attractive? He’d certainly noticed your beauty from the start, have to be blind not to. You were a sight for sore eyes, and his eyes – along with everything else – were often very sore after a long day. He would try not to think about you too much, assuming that you probably didn’t want your old man boss fawning over how pretty you were. Sarah didn’t make that easy, she loved to ramble about her days spent with you, how cool and fun you were. Long after you’d left for the night, when he’d help himself to a brownie or whatever else you’d made, it took a strained effort to not picture you looking so lovely in his home. But the days of trying to avoid thoughts of you were long gone. Ever since the night you’d called and asked to be picked up – ever since you had needed him – there was no place in his mind that you couldn’t slip into.

The waiter came over and took your orders, and returned shortly with two glasses of wine.

You sipped your drink, hiding your desperation to down the whole glass. If your pounding heart would just stabilize, maybe you could be talkative enough for him to not regret this. You had to admit that your age gap made you uncertain about what topics you could both relate to, that didn’t involve Sarah. Your prayers were answered when he lead the conversation, because of course he would– he constantly proved himself to be the ideal man.

“You took a summer class, right?”

A question he already knew the answer to, but you appreciated it nonetheless. Summer classes had given you an excuse to move to Austin early, as you had been growing increasingly restless in your hometown. “Two, actually.”

“How’d those go for you?”

“They were pretty easy, I ended up having a lot more downtime than I thought.”

“What’d you get up to in your free time?”

Your eyes lit up, “A lot of baking. Going to the thrift store, too. Oh! And reading, when I can afford some more books.”

He was hanging on every word, but his face changed a bit at the mention of what you could afford.

Your eyes widened, realizing the unintentional implication about how much he paid you, “I’m just kidding, I’m not broke.” To regain some footing, you threw in a playful comment with a wink, “Most of the time.”

To your relief, he took it with neither offense nor concern, “I’ve been there darlin’. Don’t trust people who’ve never been broke at some point.”

“But hey,” he opened his palm on the table invitingly. You slid your hand into his, his thumb rubbing your knuckles. He continued, “Next time, shoot me a text and I’ll sponsor your next shopping trip.”

You started shaking your head, but he wouldn’t relent, “Or at least a coffee’.”

You rolled your eyes, “You already sponsor my coffees.”

He laughed shortly, “But seriously, I’d be more than happy to-“

You cut him off, “But seriously, you really don’t have to-“

“Let me,” his hand tightened around yours. His eyes were so earnest, how could you deny him? Even though it didn’t sit right with you to receive money you didn’t work for, it made your heart flutter that he was insisting, that he’d even want to do that for you.

You settled for “maybe,” which he accepted with satisfaction. In his mind, there was already a timer counting; if you didn’t mention anything you wanted in the next two weeks, he’d still send some money your way. You’d probably try to refuse it with your moral high ground bit, but he’d just usher you to the bookstore.

Swirling your wine, you hid the full extent of your intrigue when you asked, “So what about you? Besides guitar, what do you like?”

He examined you for a moment, then said, “Guess.”

Confusion crossed your face, “Guess? I don’t know, whatever Texan men like. Football?”

He held intense eye contact, “I do like football. What else do you reckon?”

You shrugged, “You cook, right?”

“Enough to get by.” He nodded at you to continue, “Go ‘head, what else do you think I like?”

You paused to wonder what was his idea with throwing you for a loop like this. Then you identified the roguish look in his eyes and finally understood, oh, this is a game. The opportunity to interact with flirty Joel was exciting, and you were determined to show a new side of yourself, one that wasn’t swimming in self-doubt. You smiled coyly and answered, “You like me.”

He smirked, pleased that you caught on, “Too easy, you already knew that.”

Your lip curled into a more devious expression, “You like that I still have your clothes, don’t you? Haven’t asked for them back.”

“You ain’t given them back either,” he returned.

You took a sip of wine and tilted the glass toward him, “I know you like this outfit, but I bet you’d like seeing me in one of your T-shirts better.”

He smiled like he was impressed, “I would. And we can make that happen, long as you don’t get all shy ‘round me.”

You cocked your head, “Am I being shy now?”

He was pushing you on purpose, “I don’t know baby. Just get the feelin’ you’re all talk.”

So he was a smart opponent, but you could rise to the challenge. This particular thought had been brewing in your mind for a while, something you’d drift to when you couldn’t sleep at night. Though you couldn’t see yourself ever saying it to his face, something about Joel brought it out of you to vocalize, “I bet you’re handsy when you’re drunk.”

He raised an eyebrow, lowering his voice, “And I bet you’d love that.”

Your jaw dropped and you kicked him under the table. He burst into laughter.

The food arrived shortly, and everything was delicious. You both drank a second glass of wine, and you adored the color it brought to his cheeks. He took every chance to make you laugh, and with every success, he fought the urge to reach across the table and hold your face in both hands.

With the warmth coursing through his veins, every smushed down sentiment was rising of its own accord within him. He wanted to be everything for you. Provider, supporter, your source of stability, driver of your joy. And even as the night wore on and his mind cleared of the haze, he remained certain. He’d spare no effort for you, pour all he had and all he was at your feet.

You were in the middle of a story about your last job, in retail. “And then I was like, ‘I don’t get paid enough for this bullshit.’ And I quit on the spot and just left.”

“Really?” he grinned with raised eyebrows, like he was enjoying the hell out of your unprofessionalism.

You rambled animatedly, “Yes really! And I’ve never done that before, and I didn’t do it, like, for fun or anything. I had just put up with so much at that point, and I actually already had my two weeks’ notice all written up, but after that shit, I literally could not stand to be there for another minute.”

“No need to defend your character, darlin’. Hell, if I were you, I’da been meaner. Told ‘em all to fuck off.”

You laughed hard, throwing your head back, and he knew for sure he was screwed.

*. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * ·

“This has been such a great night Joel. Thank you so much.” You clung to his arm on the way back to his truck, jumping at the chance to feel his bicep.

He helped you climb in while saying, “You’re more than welcome darlin.’ I’m ready for the next one whenever you are, just say the word.”

Once he was settled in front of the wheel and turning out of the parking lot, you looked at the time. The night was still young. “I don’t wanna go home,” you said quietly.

Even knowing that this might not be the best decision, he suggested, “We could always go to my place, watch a movie or somethin’.”

Your skin tingled. “Or somethin’,” you repeated.

He gave you a sidelong glance with a raised brow, “Sarah’s spending the night at Uncle Tommy’s.”

“Lucky us.”

He rested his hand on your thigh while he drove. His palm was so warm and rough against your soft skin. He squeezed it every time he noticed you staring at him drive one-handed, making you look away and bite back a smile.

At his house, you plopped yourself on the couch while he rummaged around the kitchen. Turning to you, he held up two large wine glasses, “Join me for one more?”

“Gladly,” you beamed.

He popped open a bottle of red wine. It matched your lipstick, which reminded him, now’s the time to fulfill what he’d been wanting since you opened your apartment door.

Handing you a glass, he joined you on the couch. “Whatcha feel like watchin’?”

“Anything,” you answered, because you highly doubted you’d be paying any attention.

Joel had his own collection of movies on DVD, but he opted to channel surf until he found something that had just started. He was already planning on real movie nights with you, but tonight he knew you’d both be a little too distracted.

He put an arm around your frame, pulling you into his side. Your head fit perfectly in the curve where his neck met his shoulder. Raising the glass to your lips, you realized with a smirk that he filled them both way more than one servings’ worth.

He was caressing your arm, giving you goosebumps. You could barely hear the TV over the pounding of your heart. As anticipated, you grew bored of the movie after the first scene. The wine made your blood warm, and you swore you could feel it also heating his skin, right against your temple, as another swig traveled down his throat. You turned your head slightly and pressed a kiss to his neck. His breath hitched.

He leaned forward to set his glass on the coffee table, and plucked yours out of your hand as well.

“Now come here, pretty girl,” he murmured, and not wasting another second, he was tugging your legs across his lap and you gripped his shoulders. Your lips met in an open kiss, starved and needy. One of his hands wrapped securely around your waist, the other running up and down your thigh, teasing the hem of your dress. Your tongue prodded into his mouth, fingers snaking up his scalp, finally mussing up his hair. You took note of the way he sighed and leaned in further, pleased with yourself for discovering what he enjoyed.

You parted for a breath, and smirked at the sight of your rubbed-off lipstick staining his lips. You hummed, “This color looks really good on you.”

In turn, what was left on your lips was blurred around the edges. He traced it with the pad of his thumb, “Yeah? Looks beautiful on you baby, too bad I’m takin’ it off.”

You suddenly leaned away from him. He looked a little concerned until you said, “Let me finish this off real quick,” reaching for your still overfilled wine glass.

“Well shit, I’ll join ya,” he took his own to throw back.

It became an unspoken competition of who could down their glass first. Joel won, but not by much. Just to tease him, you tucked yourself back into his side and refocused on the movie. You also wanted to test your hypothesis about how touchy he’d get, and after less than ten minutes, all that wine started working all at once. You found yourself in a fit of giggles at a joke that wasn’t that funny. Joel laughed with you in amusement, admiring you in this state. You locked eyes for a moment, then his gaze fell to your lips, still tinted red.

“Gonna let me finish the job?” he drawled.

You answered by reconnecting your mouths, where he eagerly slid in his tongue. A large hand pressed against your ribs, keeping you close to him. As if you’d ever want to leave. He tilted his head and began trailing heated kisses down your neck, loving how your breath trembled.

A tender smile graced his features between kisses, “Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are?”

You shook your head, “Never thought I was anything special.”

“Nobody ever make you feel special?” he pulled back enough to look at you, brows turned upward.

You shook your head again, playing it up with a pout.

“I will,” he vowed, laying back on the couch and pulling you with him.

You rested on top of him, the hem of your dress creeping up your thighs. Your heart was hammering wildly, you wondered if he could feel it against his chest.

You marveled at the way he was looking at you, longingly, like you really were special. Unable to take the intensity of gaze, you closed the gap between you again. You were so warm all over, melting into him. His palms rested on your lower back, fingers inching lower.

“You don’t have to be such a gentleman,” you mumbled against his lips.

“Just tryin’ to take my time with you baby, treat you right.”

You made out lazily, the noise from the TV long forgotten. His hands roamed over you, but always stopped short of where you wanted him. Your eyelids became so heavy, you couldn’t open them as you dipped your head to the crook of his neck. His cologne hadn’t worn off, and you breathed in the scent between kisses to his collarbone.

“You tired baby?” he asked.

“No.”

“You’re fallin’ asleep on me sweetheart.”

“No I’m not.”

“Okay,” he rolled his eyes and smiled into your hair.

“You’re just so warm,” you thought out loud.

A few minutes later, he nudged you lightly. You were dead asleep. He picked you up gently and carried you to his bedroom. Laying you down, he paused to think. If you were his, he’d take off that dress and put you in one of his shirts to sleep in. But you weren’t, and as much as he wanted you to be comfortable, he didn’t want to cross a line. Hell, if you were his, he’d just crawl in bed with you. But you weren’t, and as much as he wanted to just be close to you, he was deeply unwilling to tread over any uncertain boundaries. Couch for him tonight.

Before leaving your side, he brushed your hair away from your face and whispered to himself, “Where have you been all my life?”

Masterlist

Chapter 7

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #tlou #the last of us #tlou hbo #tlou game #joel the last of us #joel tlou

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