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transform4u · 3 months

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Success comes with a Price

Andy’s journey into the digital cosmos began with a fascination for pixels and a love affair with pop divas. His YouTube channel, a kaleidoscope of colorful thumbnails and clickbaity titles, became his virtual playground where creativity knew no bounds. Whether he was unboxing the latest gaming console with theatrical flair or choreographing a new TikTok dance routine that could rival any K-pop star, Andy’s videos were a testament to his infectious energy and unapologetic zest for life.

In his studio – a snug corner of his apartment adorned with LED lights and posters of Lady Gaga's most iconic moments – Andy scripted his online persona. His audience adored his playful banter and irreverent humor, which seamlessly blended with his genuine passion for queer advocacy and social justice.

Behind the scenes, Andy was a meticulous curator of content. His mornings were often spent scouring the web for Gaga news and fashion trends, transforming his findings into engaging narratives that captivated his Little Monsters community. Each video was a carefully crafted homage, where Andy dissected Gaga’s every artistic choice with the precision of a critic and the adoration of a devoted fan.

As the digital sun set on another day in Andy’s universe, he prepared for his next adventure. With a wink and a click of the upload button, he invited the world to join him – not just as viewers, but as co-conspirators in a journey where pixels and pop divas intersected with laughter, love, and the occasional dose of internet-induced chaos.

As Andy scrolled through his inbox, a subject line caught his eye: "Unlock the Ultimate Viral Video Strategy!" Intrigued, he clicked on the email. The message promised insider tips and a surefire method to skyrocket his views to unprecedented heights, but with a cryptic warning: "There will be a price."

Skeptical yet enticed by the possibility of fame and fortune, Andy hesitated. Could this be his big break? He weighed the risks and benefits before shrugging, thinking, "What harm could it do?"

With a decisive click, he followed the link provided. Instantly, his computer screen flickered, and a strange, pulsating virus icon appeared. Lines of code scrolled rapidly, overwhelming the display with neon colors and glitched patterns. Andy's heart raced as he reached for the power button, trying to shut down the system. But it was too late.

The screen went black, and Andy cursed under his breath. Anxiety crept over him as he restarted the computer, hoping against hope that he hadn't just compromised his entire setup.

Minutes later, the familiar desktop greeted him, but something felt off. Before he could fully process the relief, a notification pinged on his phone – a message on Instagram from @ CaliDude34 "That tan is looking great Andy, been spending time in the sun?" it read.

Confusion knitted Andy's brow. He hadn't been outside all day, let alone under the sun. As he puzzled over the message, a peculiar warmth enveloped him. It started as a gentle sensation, but soon intensified, spreading like a slow-burning ember through his limbs. His mind felt foggy, thoughts muddled.

Panic set in as Andy realized something was terribly wrong. He staggered to the bathroom mirror, his reflection revealing a subtle bronzed glow on his usually fair skin. "No... no, this can't be happening," he muttered, touching his cheek in disbelief.

Just then, a wave of lethargy washed over him, dulling his senses and clouding his thoughts. The warmth persisted, almost comforting now, but Andy knew it wasn't natural. His fingers trembled as he reached for his phone again, the screen lighting up with another message, this time from an unfamiliar handle: "You wanted views, Andy. We delivered."

Fear gripped Andy's chest as he realized the price he had unknowingly paid. The virus had infiltrated not just his computer, but seemingly his very body, altering him in ways he couldn't comprehend. His once-sharp mind felt slower, his once-pure skin now tinged with an unnatural hue.

Andy sat at his desk, still reeling from the strange messages and the unsettling transformation that had begun moments ago. As he tried to make sense of it all, a notification popped up on his screen. It was a direct message on Twitter from @Brospeh69.

"Damn, dude. Those gains are looking sick," the message read.

Confusion mixed with disbelief as Andy read the words. He glanced down at himself, half-expecting to see the familiar figure he had always known, but instead, he noticed a subtle tightness in his clothes. It was as if his body was subtly shifting, muscles awakening from a slumber he didn't know they had.

The first sensation was warmth, spreading from his core like a gentle wildfire. It felt comforting at first, a subtle embrace that soon intensified into a pulsating surge of energy. Andy's heart pounded in his chest as he lifted his shirt, revealing a midsection that had transformed before his eyes. What once was a soft, nondescript stomach now boasted defined, chiseled abs, each muscle etched with a clarity that seemed unreal.

His hands trembled as he tentatively touched the firm ridges of muscle, marveling at the solidity beneath his fingertips. The rush of power coursing through him was undeniable, exhilarating yet tinged with a creeping sense of uncertainty.

As he continued to watch, mesmerized, Andy's biceps began to swell, expanding beyond their previous limits. They bulged out, initially the size of baseballs and then growing larger, resembling small softballs. Panic threatened to overtake him as his arms involuntarily flexed, veins pulsing beneath skin that stretched to accommodate the burgeoning muscle mass.

But fear quickly gave way to a surge of confidence. A cocky grin spread across Andy's face as his pecs followed suit, thrusting forward with newfound definition and strength. His shirt strained against the expanding contours of his chest, a testament to the physical transformation unfolding before his eyes. Without thinking, Andy began to flex his pecs, performing a playful dance that showcased his newfound power and control.

Andy felt his quads and calves swell with unprecedented mass, the fabric of his jeans protesting as muscles expanded with every movement. He flexed his legs, reveling in the sensation of strength surging through them, every fiber alive with newfound vitality.

In the reflection of the computer screen, Andy saw a version of himself that seemed larger than life – a figure of raw power and sculpted perfection. Each flex, each movement of his transformed physique, was met with a rush of euphoria that bordered on intoxicating.

Yet, amidst the thrill, a nagging doubt lingered in Andy's mind. What had triggered this astonishing change? The mysterious messages, the inexplicable physical enhancements – they raised more questions than answers. But for now, Andy couldn't resist the allure of his newfound strength. He leaned into the sensation, embracing the rush of becoming something more than he had ever imagined possible, even as uncertainty gnawed at the edges of his exhilaration.

As Andy basked in the surreal glow of his transformed physique, a notification interrupted his reverie. It was another message on Instagram, this time from @HNYGRL6789. He read the words, a furrow forming on his newly defined brow.

"Like, you can totally tell he's a douchebag from that cocky, dumb face and look at what he wears."

Andy's initial reaction was confusion. He furrowed his brow deeper, trying to comprehend the sudden shift in tone. But as he did, a strange sensation gripped his mind – a dense fog that seemed to seep into his thoughts, clouding his once-sharp intellect.

He blinked, feeling disoriented as his college degree, once a source of pride and accomplishment, slipped further from his grasp. Concepts that had been second nature now eluded him, and simple arithmetic felt like a distant memory. Andy struggled to add two and two together, his mental faculties sluggish and unresponsive.

Meanwhile, his reflection in the computer screen began to change. What had been a face characterized by boyish charm and a touch of quirky charisma now morphed before his eyes. His features took on a more rugged, masculine appearance, as if sculpted by some unseen force into the archetype of a fratbro douchebag.

Andy's nose widened, his lips thickened, and his eyebrows grew denser, framing eyes that seemed to glint with a newfound aggression. A beard sprouted across his jawline, thick and unkempt, completing the transformation from clean-cut to ruggedly unkempt.

Even his attire underwent a bizarre metamorphosis. The trendy, fashion-forward clothes he had worn moments ago now shifted into gaudy, garish garments more suited to a frat house party. A loud, oversized T-shirt adorned with neon graphics stretched across his broadened chest, while flashy, designer sneakers adorned his feet. A gaudy gold cross hung prominently around his neck, a stark contrast to the subtle accessories he had once preferred.

Andy's mind reeled as he struggled to reconcile these physical and mental changes. The fog in his brain seemed to deepen, dulling his thoughts and replacing his once-articulate speech with a more brash, simplistic vernacular. His movements became more assertive, his gestures broader and more exaggerated, mirroring the confidence of his newfound persona.

Deep down, a flicker of awareness fought against the fog. Andy sensed that something was terribly wrong, that this transformation was not of his own making. But the allure of this altered state, coupled with the intoxicating rush of power it brought, threatened to override his growing unease.

As he stood there, grappling with the conflicting sensations of euphoria and confusion, Andy wondered how far this bizarre journey would take him. What had begun as a quest for viral fame and physical prowess had spiraled into a surreal odyssey, where every click and message seemed to lead him further down a path he couldn't fully comprehend.

As the gaudy gold cross hung heavily around his neck, Andy watched in a trance-like state as his follower count on Instagram began to climb steadily. Each new notification sent a thrill through his altered mind, a rush of validation that overshadowed the growing ache in his head. The fog thickened, clouding his thoughts further, as if a veil was descending over his memories and beliefs.

Liberal views that had once defined Andy's online presence began to fade like distant echoes. He struggled to recall the passionate discussions on social justice, the advocacy for equality, and the fervent admiration for Lady Gaga. Instead, his mind buzzed with unfamiliar tunes – hip hop beats and twangy country melodies that etched themselves into his consciousness with surprising clarity.

A comment on his latest YouTube video caught his attention, posted by @JesusBroFitness: "Love to get my fitness tips from a God-loving manly man like A." The words hit Andy like a truck, resonating in ways he couldn't fully comprehend. His gaze shifted to his reflection, now bearing the visage of a man transformed not just physically but ideologically.

The memory of Lady Gaga's songs slipped away, replaced by mental images of gym routines and workout regimens. Protein drinks and fitness gear dominated his thoughts, as if they had always been there, waiting to take center stage. Above all else, a newfound devotion to faith crept into his consciousness, shaping his beliefs and actions with a certainty that felt foreign yet oddly comforting.

Andy's mind wandered, memories shifting like sand in an hourglass. He recalled a childhood in a deeply conservative, entitled household where money and privilege oozed from every corner. The echoes of parental expectations and societal norms resonated within him, shaping his worldview into something more traditional, more conforming to expectations that had once seemed distant and irrelevant.

In his altered state, Andy found himself embracing this new identity with a mix of confusion and acceptance. The allure of likes and followers blurred the lines between authenticity and performance, nudging him further down a path that promised validation and recognition. The ache in his head dulled as he leaned into the role, crafting a persona that resonated with his growing audience – a blend of physical prowess, traditional values, and a devout reverence for God.

As he navigated this strange new reality, Andy couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental had shifted within him. His liberal past seemed like a distant dream, replaced by a present that glittered with social media success and the intoxicating rush of conformity. Whether it was for the likes or a genuine transformation, Andy couldn't say for certain. But as his follower count soared and his online persona solidified, one thing became clear – he was no longer the person he once knew, and the journey he had embarked upon was far from over.

The Snapchat notification from @StaceyGirl69 popped up, "I can't wait to see you tonight, stud ; I'm going to ride my Italian stallion A---A----Anthony---Tony. Can't wait to see that 10 inch cock of yours tonight" on Tony's phone, and a smirk spread across his newly transformed face. As he read the message, everything clicked into place with startling clarity. Tony – formerly Andy – was no longer the quirky, liberal-minded YouTuber and Gaga fan. He was now a straight-up douchebag, reveling in his newfound identity as a fitness guru and conservative influencer. Stacey was just some bimbo bitch he had been hooking up on the side between Amy, Samantha and Kelsey.

As Tony's thoughts turned to Stacey and Amy, his cock began to stir within his pants. He couldn't help but imagine the two women together, their voluptuous bodies pressed against each other as they eagerly awaited his arrival. The image of Stacey's large breasts and Amy's perfect ass filled his mind, causing a surge of blood to rush towards his groin.

His cock grew thick and hard under the influence of these erotic thoughts. It strained against the fabric of his pants, demanding release as he continued working out at the gym. Tony found himself flexing not just for show but also for pleasure; every time he moved a muscle or clenched a fist, it sent waves of pleasure through him that only served to intensify the growing erection in his pants.

Tony's mind, once clouded with confusion and doubt, now brimmed with self-assured confidence. He glanced around his lavish apartment, the walls adorned with gym posters and religious iconography. His social media accounts, from TikTok to Twitter, were a testament to his ego – a million followers hanging on his every word, idolizing him as the epitome of physical perfection and traditional values.

With a cocky swagger, Tony aged back to his prime at 25. His once-boyish charm had given way to a rugged, chiseled appearance that exuded arrogance. His face, now angular and defined, bore the unmistakable stamp of entitlement. His eyes sparkled with a mix of vanity and pride as he flicked on his camera, the screen reflecting his transformed physique.

Tony stood before the camera, shirtless and unapologetically narcissistic. He ran his hands over his sculpted chest, each movement a deliberate display of muscle and power. His biceps bulged as he flexed, veins popping with every movement. A smirk played on his lips as he angled his body to highlight every ridge and contour, reveling in the attention and admiration he knew would flood his social media feeds.

"Hey, fam," Tony's voice oozed with a blend of confidence and arrogance, "Today's workout was killer. Just smashed those gains, you know? Stay tuned for more fitness tips and life advice from your boy, Tony."

He turned to the side, showcasing his profile with a self-satisfied grin. His newly grown beard added to the rugged charm he now embraced fully. The camera captured his transformation from every angle, emphasizing his toned abs and powerful physique.

As Tony continued to flex and pose, a sense of fulfillment washed over him. This was who he was now – a poster boy for fitness, conservative values, and unabashed self-promotion. The likes and comments would pour in, validating his existence and feeding his insatiable ego.

Social media had become Tony's kingdom, where he reigned as a self-made influencer and icon. His Instagram and TikTok accounts boasted millions of followers who hung on his every word and admired his lifestyle. Comments lavished praise on his physique, his style, and his apparent success, feeding his ego and reinforcing his belief in his own superiority.

But beneath the veneer of confidence and bravado, Tony's personality had become shallow and self-centered. He had little patience for dissent or criticism, dismissing opposing viewpoints with a condescending smirk or a dismissive wave of his hand. Empathy and humility had been replaced by a sense of entitlement and a craving for validation, driving him to constantly seek attention and admiration from his online audience.

Tony stood in front of the camera, flexing his muscles and admiring his reflection. His body was a testament to years of hard work at the gym, dedication to a strict diet, and an unwavering belief in himself. As he posed for the camera on his phone, capturing every angle of his massive biceps and chiseled abs, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride swell within him.

"Big Tony," he said aloud with a smirk as he struck another pose, "fucking aces. fucking king of the fucking world." He snapped another photo before checking his social media notifications yet again. There were hundreds more comments praising him for being an inspiration or asking for advice on how they could achieve similar results. It was all too easy to get lost in this world where everyone seemed to be cheering him on and validating everything he did.

"Keep those likes coming," Tony muttered under his breath as he scrolled through endless streams of compliments and admiration from strangers across the globe. He knew deep down that there was more to life than just being famous or having big muscles but sometimes it felt like that was all anyone cared about anymore.

In the background, Tony's room slowly began to show signs of neglect as he became more consumed by his online presence. Beer cans littered the floor around him, their contents long since gone flat or warm depending on how long they had been sitting there. Posters featuring scantily clad women with large breasts hung on every available surface while sports posters adorned others - remnants from a time when Tony actually cared about something other than himself.

The air in the room reeked of musk, sweat, beer and sex; an intoxicating mix that seemed both familiar yet foreign at once. It was as if these smells were emanating directly from within Tony himself – a testament not only to his physical prowess but also hinting at deeper desires left unfulfilled beneath all those layers of bravado and ego.

#gay to straight #male tf #transformation #douchebag tf

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illusivelle · 4 months

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chicken scratch

pairing: carmen 'carmy' berzatto x reader rating: t (for now) length: 1,028 words content: mild cursing summary: you've never met your neighbour, but you've received plenty of their mail and now, a large package. of all the stories you made up in your head about who this 'carmen berzatto' could be, the real thing might just be your new favourite. a/n: brain rot means a middle of the night word dump. will likely be the first of many little stories about your next door neighbour, carmen, because that dynamic lives in my mind rent free. fluff for now, but we all know what that means (it means it'll definitely become nsfw later, sooner probably). read part two link to ao3 here!

The first letter was a mistake, the second one was a coincidence. The third one was not a big deal and the fourth was only a little more than a nuisance. But when a much larger package thudded against your front door at the ass crack of dawn, the recipient clearly written across the top of the cardboard box as your neighbour… well, that was just flat out annoying at this point. You hadn't even known deliveries made their rounds so early in the day and as big as the box was, when you lifted it to carry next door, it weighed lighter than a feather.

The pile of letters that accidentally found their way to your apartment were usually slipped through the small mailbox of your neighbour's, sometimes under the door. You'd thought about dropping the package and simply going about your day, but curiosity got the better of you as your knuckles rapped against the door and waited instead.

What could a Carmen Berzatto have possibly required to be delivered at this time?

In the time you've lived in the building, there'd been very few run-ins with other tenants. Not that you'd ever complain, perfectly content with your own company. You made friends with one elderly lady who always offered you some of her freshly baked bread, and in return you picked her up flowers and some extra produce on your farmer's market runs. The landlord wasn't your friend, but he wasn't your enemy either, and somehow you'd convinced him to let you paint your bathroom your favourite colour with little to no resistance. But your next door neighbour remained a mystery, one you've conjured up about a dozen different backstories and personalities for.

Carmen Berzatto, notorious criminal, hiding out in a tiny Chicago apartment. Carmen Berzatto, hundred-year-old vampire, who might either burn in the sun or look like they'd walked through a glitter bomb. Carmen Berzatto, part time Chicagoan, who actually doesn't live here anymore and maybe there's a squatter inside instead. Carmen Berzatto, the tax evader, because why else would they have so much goddamn mail being sent to them?

You'd been lost in the web of made-up histories for your neighbour when the door swung open to reveal said neighbour, and it slowly dawned on you that there wasn't a single story where you imagined Carmen Berzatto to look like that.

Piercing, wide blue eyes and a head of shaggy brown tufts that made you want to tangle your fingers through them, especially that small curl dangling just above his forehead.

"Hi." His greeting was laced with mild confusion that seemed immediately alleviated when his attention dropped to the box in your hands. "Oh."

"Hi," you blurted out, lifting the package, "got another one for you."

"I—I'm sorry about— about, uh, about all of that. It won't happen again."

"Won't it?" You were mostly teasing now. Although you were jolted awake by the sound of it thrashing against your door, and although you were rather peeved about getting up before you wanted to, you couldn't find it in yourself to be irritated anymore.

Carmen reached out to take the box from you, giving it a small shake with what you thought was a ghost of a smile before he set it down to the side somewhere you couldn't see. "It won't. I'm sorry." The flirt of his tongue along his lips brought your gaze toward it before you met his eyes again.

Those stunning icy blues.

"It's okay, nothing to be sorry for."

"I must've really fucked up on the— the uh, apartment number."

"What?"

"The apartment number."

"Yeah," you looked at him a bit dumbfounded, gaze darting to the door where the number and letter were, "what about it?"

"I—"

"You don't know your apartment number?"

"My writing's shit."

Both of you seemed to blink in unison, another lick of Carmen's lips which you mirrored before a stupid smile curled your lips. "Oh."

"Not a good excuse, I know." He nodded, jaw working as he turned his head to the metal on the door, a short and deep chuckle sounding from him. "Again, I—"

"Not sorry," you shook your head, "just chicken scratch."

For a moment, Carmen stared at you, and if it wasn't bad enough to have those too-blue eyes simply looking at you, to find them nearly boring holes as they danced between your eyes and across your face made you want to evaporate. Made you wish the ground would open up and swallow you hole. Made you want to drown in the depths of the ocean blues that were his irises.

"Just chicken scratch," he murmured after a beat of silence and what was once a ghost of a smile was definitely something now, the corner of his mouth lifting enough to wrinkle the corner of his eye. Enough to show you the dimple in his cheek. "Thanks for— for bringing the package."

"Yeah." And the smile unfurling on your lips was nothing short of genuine. "You're welcome, Carmen."

"Just, uh, just Carm is good. Carmy."

"Okay."

Another beat passed where you thought you might have been rendered frozen by one of your favourite shades of blue, glued to the floor through hypnosis, until a sound down the hall caught your ear and you nodded at Carmen. Turning on your heel, you took the first step back to your apartment, then another, and another.

And it wasn't until you had your hand stretched out to grab for your doorknob when you heard his voice echo from where you'd came. "See you around?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

The moment hung in the air on a thin thread, the both of you sharing furtive and hidden smiles before his door closed and yours opened.

Carmen Berzatto, not a notorious criminal (to your knowledge) or a hundred-year-old vampire (yet). Nor was he a part-time Chicagoan (not with that accent) or a tax evader (maybe). None of the ideas you had floating in your mind about your neighbour even came close to the real thing.

Carmen Berzatto, curly-haired blue-eyed boy-next-door with chicken scratch for writing and a fleeting dimple you wanted to see again.

#jeremy allen white #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy x reader #carmy x you #the bear #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy fluff #carmy the bear #carmy berzatto fanfic #carmen berzatto imagine

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httpwintersoldier · 1 year

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『jolly sailor bold. || shanks x reader』

[PART 1 OF 4 - ONE PIECE'S KINKTOBER] - SHANKS VER.

[BUGGY VER.] [MIHAWK VER.] [SANJI VER.]

pairing: shanks x f!reader words: lenghtyyyyy summary: your curse leads you to a certain red-haired pirate that ends up taking you hostage for the rest of your life. And you very much agree with the decision. angst; smut; fluff.

You had been cursed as a young child. A devil fruit user with the ability of merging whatever they had in sight had taken you from your mother and merged you with a fish. A cruel revenge plan taken out on an innocent child that was made to forever swim the ocean.

That had obviously changed you, in more ways than physical. You couldn't establish contact with other fish, you couldn't make friends with humans (who thought you were a freak and a monster) and there were no other merefolk (not to your knowledge, at least.

The insanity of the lonely life had taken a toll on you. You had begun luring in lonely pirates and seamen, only to tear them apart and eat them before they realized you weren't human and tried to hunt you.

It had been going on for decades, although your body seemed to not age at all, more parts seemed to be growing in. At first it was just the long, scaly tail that had almost of a metallic blue and green shine to it. Then your eyes fully shifted to a charcoal black colour, and your hair followed suit. And, in the past years, your arms grew fins and your fingers grew webbing, both a pale green colour.

Your years of solitude were cut short when you found a certain red haired pirate.

The top of your head was above the water as you watched the ship. The captain had only one arm and three scars on his left eye. He seemed pretty goofy, along with the rest of the crew. You almost felt bad for killing them. Almost.

You dove down into the cold sea, scratching the bottom of the ship with your nails that were borderline claws at that point, until you found a tall, wide rock in the direction the boat was headed.

You sat on the rock, in such a way that it would hide your tail as best as possible, and began singing with your enchanting voice.

"My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold..."

You could hear a ruckus coming from the ship, several feet running on the old, creaking boards of the deck, and soon saw a plethora of men (dinner) standing on the edge, looking at you.

"...there is nothing can console me, but my Jolly Sailor bold..."

You heard more feet scaterring and several voices yelling "Behold Man!" and you smirked devilishly.

As the ship approached, the red haired male you had seen before jumped on the rock you sat on. Big mistake. He knelt down a couple steps away from you.

"Hello little lady, what are you doing here? Are you injured?" The man asked, with a deep voice.

You looked at him through your eyebrows and smirked.

"No, but you're about to be." You replied in a husky voice.

You lunged at the man, taking him under water with you so his mates wouldn't attack you and, as you dragged the male down to drown him, you made the mistake of looking him in the eye. And, as you did so, you felt yourself falter, and your body getting weaker, and weaker. Your eyelids began shutting against their will, and you saw black as your body went limp.

When you woke up, you were startled. Once you found you could, you opened your eyes widely and began struggling, looking for the man you'd caught who should've been floating somewhere next to you, only to find that you were stuck in some sort of wooden tub, your long tail hanging out of it.

You felt as if something was weighing on your chest and you couldn't breathe. Panic. You were panicking. Last time you felt that way you were being thrown in the water by your mother.

"You're awake." A deep voice said beside you.

You carefully looked to the side to find the red haired man you had taken into the sea with you.

"Who... who are you?... Why am I here? How am I here?..." You asked, more to yourself than him, with a dry throat.

You coughed after you did so, and the man handed you water. You looked at the glass carefully, not trusting it. The red haired male sighed and rolled his eyes as he took the cup and sipped on it, to show it wasn't poisoned, before handing back to you.

"I'm Shanks. I'm the Captain of the ship. The "why" would be because you tried to kill me. As for the how... let's just say I'm good at persuading people."

You laughed, after drinking the whole cup in one go.

"Sometimes girls get hungry..." You said, biting your lip.

Shanks simply scoffed.

"You are brave, for someone who's in your position to be talking that way..."

"What can I say..." You shrugged.

There was silence, as Shanks admired your body.

"What are you anyway?..." He asked, leaning closer on the tub.

The way he came closer to you showed how unafraid he was of you, of your... exquisite body, so to speak. That was new, you quite enjoyed it, had he not taken you captive.

"Call it a freak of nature, if you will." You replied, as you shrugged

After the man pressed you once more about your origins and anatomy, you decided to answer truthfully.

"I was cursed. Well, that's the cool way of putting it... Some weird Devil Fruit user has the ability to merge stuff together, be it dead, inanimate or alive. I was the result of an affair, from what I could gather in the fight between this woman and my mom. The wife of the man my mom had an affair with found her and decided to punish her by merging me with a fish I guess... In the beginning it was just small changes, some gills and scales, had to spend a lot of time in the bathub but nothing too hard, so my mom attempted to raise me like this. She gave up when the tail began to develop and threw me in the ocean..."

Shanks' eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes were set on your fish-like characteristics as he heard your explanation.

"And you resorted to eating humans?..."

You shrugged once more. It was your go-to answer, it seemed. No better way to show indifference.

"It's either humans or fish. Both of them are part of me, but only one of them cursed me, then cast me away and treated me as a monster."

"But not all humans are to blame for your... curse." The man tried to reason.

"I was also not to blame for my mother's mistakes. Yet here we are." You replied quickly, looking him in the eye with your orbs, devoid of any colour.

Shanks sighed and slapped his thighs as he stood up.

"Hey! Wait!" You semi-yelled, making Shanks stop and turn around "What's to happen to me? What will you do with me?"

"Seems like there is only one thing to do..." He said, sighing and placing his hand on his hip "We'll find the Devil Fruit user and get them to undo this."

Your eyes shined for a moment and your face lit up, before reminding yourself that the race you were talking to was untrustworthy, and the cold expression that was so familiar to you returned to your faced.

"Why. What's in it for you? Aren't you going to sell me to some freak show? Or keep me as a pet?"

Shanks sighed again.

"The only freak show master I know doesn't have me in great consideration, and you talk too much to be a pet and are not that useful." Ouch. "It seems like we'd be saving a lot of lives by helping you. Including your own."

He didn't give you time to reply, as the Captain left the room and closed the door.

You huffed, and relaxed in the tub, realizing that you had been tense this whole time. There was nothing you could do but trust these men now... It was nearly impossible for you to hop out of the tub and drag yourself out on the deck and into the ocean without being heard or seen flopping around, and the porthole next to you was far too small for you to fit through it...

As the sun set and darkness enveloped the room, the red haired man stepped in with a light being held by his mouth and a tray on his hand.

"Do you usually carry stuff with you mouth?" You joke with a teasing smirk.

The man set down the light and the tray, and pushed back the cape to reveal he had only one arm.

You felt embarrassed for a second, but wouldn't let it show (obviously).

"Seems like someone got to you before me." You joked with a simpathetic smile.

The man let out a belly laugh and picked up the tray again, handing it to you.

"You're a cheeky one for sure..." The captain commented and sat on a chair in the corner of the room.

You stared at the tray, it was some sort of meat you obviously didn't recognize and bread.

"This is what?" You asked, a little disgusted, pointing at the sead animal in front of you.

"It's chicken legs. You know, food from an animal that isn't either part of you." The man joked with a smile, pointing between your human torso and fish tail, and you laughed a little.

You picked it up carefully and examined it. You gave up the poison suspicions, if he wanted to kill you he would've done so. You took a small bite, waiting for a nasty taste to hit your tongue, but surprisingly you found it delicious. You widened your eyes and looked at him in shock, before devouring the meal in front of you.

"I take it you enjoyed the food?" Shanks asks with a chuckle, as he raised his eyebrows.

"It was edible." You replied jokingly, licking your fingers.

After taking the tray, the man remained in the room, surprisingly.

"You're staying?" You asked, cocking your head and blinking rapidly, as your eyes were used to a lot more moisture.

"Well, only one person keeps guard at night and I don't quite trust you to not go out there and kill him. I think I'm the only one that can take care of you." He said and winked.

You felt hot. Why did you feel hot? The bath water was cold. Just as you thought about his wink, you shivered.

Shanks raised an eyebrow and looked at the water.

"Is it too cold?"

Before you could reply, he stood up and dipped his hand in the water. Having his hand so close to you... So close to touching your body... It sent a strange feeling through your body, and you didn't know how to react.

"It's... fine. We don't have heaters in the ocean."

Shanks knelt down next to the tub so he could be face-to-face with you.

"Yeah, but you also don't have still water. That," he said, pointing at the water you sat in "will get pretty disgusting if it's not changed, unlike the ocean."

You looked at the water and it was safe to say the man was right. The sediments entagled in your gills and scales from sleeping on the sand, as well as some algae that had gotten stuck to you began staining the water as it cleaned you.

Shanks, realizing you had silently agreed with him, laid a towel on the ground and picked you up over his shoulder. You shrieked and grabbed onto his shirt, not being used to being carried (or manhandled). The captain slowly placed you on the towel, and you watched as he cleaned the tub and replaced the dirty water.

"Why are you going through all of this trouble? It doesn't make sense. What's in it for you?" You asked, seemingly getting defensive all of the sudden.

Shanks scoffed and looked over his shoulder as he worked.

"You have to stop thinking there's something in it for me, sweetheart. I just think you haven't been given a fair chance. Before labeling you as anything, I want to make sure you have a fair chance to become the person you think you should be."

You were out of words. Apologies and "thank you's" were not your strong suit, so you kept quiet. The captain took the lack of response as acceptance, and finished the job.

You could very easily flop back into the tub - you had been climbing up rocks and jumping from them all your life, after all - but you enjoyed it when Shanks picked you up and laid you down in such a careful way, so you didn't protest.

You spent the next three months of the search for the Devil Fruit user listening intently to Shanks' pirate stories and (unconsciously) fawning over him every night when he came to watch over you.

After the first month he trusted you to stay alone, but he woudn't leave you. He'd rather have your company. The Captain loved the way your big eyes shined as you looked at him, paying attention to every of his words.

Both your feelings were very obvious, and had anyone been in the room with the two of you they would've called you out on it. But that was the best part of your "sessions": it felt like a secret. It felt so intimate, it was honestly ironic how either of you failed to realize how infatuated you were with each other.

"Y/N!" The Captain said happily as he walked in the room and knelt down next to the tub.

You crossed your arms on the edge of the tub and laid your head on them.

"Yes, Captain?"

You had began calling him Captain as a joke, but he not-so-secretly loved it, and it showed: he couldn't keep the big, stupid smile off of his face whenever he heard you call him Captain.

"We found her!" The man said, holding your face with his hand "We found the devil fruit user!"

A wave of emotions washed over you. First you were happy, ecstatic even. But then came the panic, fear, uncertainty... And it showed.

"Y/N, what's wrong? You look... disappointed?" Shanks asked, not quite sure how to decipher your look.

You opened your mouth to speak, but you didn't know what to say or how to express what you were feeling - it was all brand new. Thankfully, Shanks gave you time.

"I just..." you started "I don't know. What will happen next? I don't know how to live among people, will I even like it? Will I even be able to walk? Will I miss the sea?" Tears streamed down your face and you were in a panicked state as you thought of all things that could go wrong.

Shanks hugged you and caressed your semi-wet hair.

"Sweetheart," you learned to love that nickname, it always put you at ease "I can't force you to go back to who you were, but I think you'd be infinitely happier on land, with people to talk to, with people to have fun with, with... someone to love." Shanks' voice brokw a little, as he thought of you living happily side by side with someone that wasn't him, but he cleared his throat and carried on "You can always choose to swim in the sea, and you can choose to walk on land and live as you were made to. I know it must be scary, all change is scary, but you won't have to be alone anymore"

By the time he finished, your heart was beating fast for different reasons and your breathing had calmed down.

When you pulled away from the hug, your faces were mere centimiters apart. You could both feel the tension and the attraction, but none of you dared move. You were almost sure you were both feeling the same.

"What do you say, Y/N?" He whispered.

You smiled widely and nodded.

"Let's do it."

The next few days of sailing were intense and overcome with emotion, but it wasn't long after your conversation with Shanks that the red-haired man came in with a big smile. He didn't even bother grabbing a towel - he was far too excited for that. The man picked you up, not caring that he got drenched in tub water, and carried you out to the deck.

The sun hurt your eyes and it took you a while to get accostumed, but the strangest part was Shanks.

"Do it." He said, turned to someone you could not see since you were still flung over his shoulder.

His voice was cold, demanding and soulless. You had never heard it this way, and you had a hard time assimilating that it was, in fact, the Shanks that you knew (and loved).

There was a long silence, it seemed like no one dared move, speak or breathe.

Suddenly, a woman cleared her throat, and you felt as if your body was being ripped apart. You gripped Shanks' back and tried not to make noise, but you couldn't help the toe-curling scream that left your mouth.

You could feel your legs slowly separating, and after a few excruciating minutes your body fell to the ground weakly.

"Y/N! Y/N?" Shanks called, hovering over you and cupping your cheek.

You opened my eyes and looked down at your legs, arms and hands.

"Legs!" You yelled happily and looked up at Shanks "Shanks I have legs!"

Shanks wrapped his arm around your waist and spun you around.

"Shit! It worked!" He said, looking at your face, still holding you up by the waist, as he was afraid you wouldn't be able to stand on your legs just yet.

As he looked down, Shanks realized you were (obviously) naked, and that your body was glued to his. The Captain blushed and fought off any... improper thoughts - he surely wished he had brought the towel.

The man cleared his throat and wrapped his cape around you as he carried you inside and ordered his crew to escort the Devil Fruit user back to the port.

Shanks sat you on a chair on his room and looked through his drawers for some clean clothes,

"Uh here- this ought to fit you."

His cheeks were red (as were yours) and he looked away as you put on his large shirt and a pair of loose pants.

"Can you walk?" The Captain asked.

You gripped the sides of the chair nervously.

"I don't... I don't know."

Shanks silently held out his hand, inviting you to try. You took it and slowly stood up. Your legs were a little wobbly and your walk was a little unsure and weak, but you sure could still do it. Muscle memory from before-fish-time, you assumed.

"I did it!" You said, wrapping your arms around him.

"You did it!" He cheered as well, wrapping his arm around your waist.

When you pulled away from the hug, your faces were close, and after all those years of luring men, you had never wanted to kiss one until Shanks came along.

"Now you can go resume your life back in your hometown!" The man said with a smile.

You stumbled away from him, suddenly finding the strenght to stand on your own.

"What?" You asked, incredulous.

"You can... go! You can live your life again, Y/N." He repeated, not understanding your reaction.

You scoffed, hurt and disappointed. You'd think that after spending every single night together for three months the reaction would be different. You thought Shanks felt the same about you, you thought he'd pick you up, spin you around, kiss you and ask you to stay on the ship, but no. The second you took a couple steps, he was ready to send you on your way.

"Yeah. That's probably best if I go. I'll leave right away."

You turned around, exited the room and slammed the door shut, leaving a confused Shanks behind. You wobbled away as fast as you could, using the walls of the ship as help, persistently fighting off the tears.

"Y/N! Wait! You're leaving now?" He asked, chasing after you.

"Well you want me gone! Might as well start now!" You said while walking.

Shanks grabbed your wrist and you tried to free yourself from it, but his grasp was firm.

"Y/N can we- Y/N can you stop struggling please? Y/N-" When the Captain got tired of asking, he picked you up and brought you to his room, throwing you on the bed as he closed the door with his foot.

"What is wrong with you!?" He roared, looking down at you with a look you couldn't decipher.

You stood up weakly.

"What's wrong with me!? What's wrong with you!" You countered, looking at him with the same mix of emotions running through you.

"Me!? I got you your body back! I freed you! And all I get is a cold shoulder and not even a goodbye? Maybe you are a cold hearted monster after all!"

Silence.

Silence as those words hit you like a brick and Shanks realized what had left his mouth. Tears streamed down your cheeks uncontrollably for the first time in over a decade.

"Y/N-"

He was cut off by you trying to reach the door without another word. The Captain stood between you and the door.

"Y/N please I'm sorry I didn't mean-"

"Let me leave! Let me leave! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" You yelled at the top of your lungs, banging on his chest with closed fists out of frustration.

"Please Y/N, I'm begging you! I'm- I'm sorry! I was hurt!"

"Oh you were hurt? That's rich!" You said, laughing cynically.

"What is that supposed to mean?" He asked, more calmly.

You stumbled backwards and let yourself fall on the bed, sitting down since you weren't used to standing for long.

"You spent three months with me, every night. You were the only person I ever shared anything with. And then the first chance you get... You want me to leave? To send me away? I-Is that all I am? A project?"

Shanks knelt in front of you, taking your face in his hand like he had done many times before, but this time, it held a completely different meaning.

"Y/N... Is that what you think? You genuinely think I want you to go?" His thumb wiped your tears as he looked into your glossy eyes.

"You... don't? Then why did you say that?..."

Shanks chuckled and looked away for a second before looking back at you.

"Y/N, I want you to stay by my side every day until I die of some stupid reason." You and him cracked a smile at the small joke "I obviously didn't want you to leave, never did. I dreaded this day because I thought you'd want to leave... to be free to explore, find yourself and finally get out of this ship."

You cupped his face gently and felt him lean into your touch.

"Shanks... this is my home. You're my home. Plus, what better placed to explore in than a fucking ship!" I said with a smile and laughed.

Shanks retributed the smile, twice as big, and laughed as well.

"Hey little lady! Language!" He jokingly told you off.

You stared into each other's eyes as your heads tilted ever so slightly. That was the moment. It felt right. It felt perfect.

Your lips touched slightly, and you pulled away just as quickly, trying to process the moment. But when you realized how much you wanted it, how much you needed it, you grabbed him by his collar and pulled him closer, smashing your lips together. The kiss was rough and passionate, full of emotion.

"Princess I planned on taking it slow, but if you keep this up I won't be able to hold back much longer." Shanks whispered as he left sloppy kisses on your neck.

"Don't hold back. I want to feel everything I've been missing out on." You moaned.

"Well in that case," Shanks paused, as he manhandled you to lay on the bed and spread your legs so he could hover over you "let's give the crew something to complain about, shall we?"

The Captain didn't wait for your response, he simply captured your lips in a rough kiss once more and yanked down the pants you were wearing. His fingers slowly travelled down your body and parted your folds. You watched as he then took them up to his mouth and licked them clean.

"Who knew you'd still be this wet outside of the water?"

You blushed and rolled your eyes with a smile at the cheeky jokes you'd come to love.

Shanks removed his cape and shirt, and then kissed down your body, slightly pushing up the shirt you wore to reach your stomach. He pondered on removing the shirt, but decided against it - the Captain thought you'd look good being fucked in his shirt.

He toyed around your pussy, biting and kissing several spots on your inner thighs until you were moaning desperately.

"Please touch me there Shanks..." You begged.

That was his cue to begin eating you out like a hungry man. You didn't even know how to describe the feeling, but that didn't stop you from trying.

"F-fuck! That's so good Shanks- so good!" You moaned, as one of your hands gripped his sheets and the other tugged on his hair.

He moaned at the feeling of his hair being pulled and you swore the vibrations made it even better.

Shanks slapped your inner thigh and gripped it over and over, and you could feel something in the pit of your stomach forming.

"Oh shit-" You moaned.

Your breathing accelerated and your eyes closed as your back arched, preparing for whatever was coming.

When suddenly Shanks' mouth pulled away.

"What did you do that for?" You whined, looking at him through your lashes.

Shanks hovered over you and kissed you deeply. You could taste yourself on his tongue and you both moaned into each other's mouths.

"If you're going to cum for the first time sweetheart, you're doing it on my cock."

His hand expertly pulled his cock out, and you whimper-gasped when you felt it hit your pussy.

You looked down at it and widened your eyes.

Shanks laughed and caressed your cheek.

"You okay there, princess?" The Captain asked as he ran the tip of his cock along your folds, making you hiss.

"I'm- I have mixed feelings. Is all that going in me? And it feels good?"

Shanks chuckled and pecked your lips.

"I'll go slow, doll. If it doesn't feel good, you tell me, okay?"

You nodded, giving him the greenlight.

Shanks pushed into you, very slowly, carefully watching your face through the whole thing, until he bottomed out inside you.

"How you doing, dollface?" The man asked.

He wanted nothing more than to ram into you until the only word you could say was his name, but the man was patient.

"It feels... odd. But good. K-keep going." You said, suddenly feeling hot and shy.

Shanks slowly moved in and out of you, finding a merciful pace to fuck you in. His hand found your ass, that he gripped as tightly as he could without hurting you, taking out some of the frustration of not being able to fuck you as he wanted.

It became especially hard when you began tightening around his cock and moaning his name.

"Go faster, please-"

Those words were the only thing he wanted to hear. Shanks slapped the aprt of your ass he could reach from that position and steadily picked up the pace in which he fucked you.

"S-shit this is so fucking good Shanks!"

Your praises and moans were the sweetest sound he'd ever heard, and the man wanted to hold on as long as he could, to listen to them as long as possible.

The way his shirt looked on you while he fucked you was an even bigger ego-boost for him. You looked his, you looked like you belonged to him. Wearing his shirt, on his bed, with his cock buried deep in you... Fuck, it was a sight to see.

He bent over as he fucked you, his hand grabbing the base of your neck as his lips left sloppy kisses and small bites all over it.

"I wanna fuck you dumb. I wanna fuck your pretty little pussy so hard Y/N."

You didn't know how much you enjoyed dirty talking until you heard him whisper those words to you, and the most sinful moan left your mouth.

"Do it! Shit- fuck!" You cursed as he fucked you at an impossible pace.

Skin slapping and squelching sounds filled the room along with your moans and groans, and the familiar feeling at the pit of your stomach returned. You had no way of knowing you were about to cum so you couldn't warn your partner, but Shanks knew. From the way your back arched once more, and your hand gripped the wrist that was gripping your thigh, he knew you were close.

Shanks tried to hold off his orgasm as long as possible, and it was painful but oh so worth it. Your pleasure-filled face, mouth agape followed by the incessant calls for his name in the form of moans... it was art.

He came right after, burying his cock deep in you, making sure it all stayed in. His mark.

The Captain pulled out of you with a groan and plopped next to you. You waited no time to roll over and lay your head on his chest, swinging your leg over one of his as he wrapped his arm around you, his hand laying on your butt softly.

"I don't think I'll be able to walk for a different reason now..." You said, smiling up at him.

"Hey you're getting good at making corny jokes like me!"

You laughed together, then a deep silence ensued.

"Shanks... did you mean that?"

He cocked his head slightly.

"About what? Wanting to fuck you dumb? Oh very much!"

You laughed and slapped his chest.

"No! About... really wanting me here... by your side."

Shanks smiled as he looked at you fondly and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

"If you promise to tolerate me, I'd like to have you by my side until the end of my days."

#shanks #shanks x reader #peter gadiot smut #one piece smut #one piece live action smut #shanks live action smut #shanks smut #red haired shanks smut #shanks x reader smut #shanks fluff #shanks angst #one piece x reader #one piece shanks smut #one piece live action shanks smut

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miguelhugger2099 · 8 months

Note

OMG imagine the one bed trope w miguel. like idk why itd happen, maybe like they’re scoping out an anomaly in another universe and somehow the portal back gets blocked and they gotta stay the night at a hotel, but miguel and reader are stuck in the same bed (she SWEARS she booked two beds but oops! all the rooms are filled up!) and like oh no they need this hotel!! so at first they’re really rigid and like miguel’s all tense, he’s like “i’ll sleep on the floor” but reader is like “no it’s okay we can share! i don’t move a lot in my sleep anyway” (that’s a lie btw.) so then like miguel’s wide awake in the middle of the night, and reader keeps shifting in her sleep, and they end up in a pretty compromising position if ykwim… and then maybe she wakes up and finds miguel like so flustered and starts teasing him a bit and then things heat up ofc… idk just a thought! it’s been so long since i’ve seen the one bed trope tbh. (fem reader btw plssss)

Forced Proximity

i tried with my best with this 🫠 i wanted to try something new instead of regular p in v i hope that's okay 😭 thank u for requesting! if anything, i'd be happy to redo this when my requests open again

Miguel x Reader, Suggestive/Smut, Word Count: 2,271

Just as you and Miguel were about to shoot your webs at the new anomaly, a black bubbly portal opened up and sucked them up into another dimension. “Dammit!” You cursed, groaning at the convenience of an anomaly escaping. Miguel is already beside you, mask eyes squinted in focus as he clicks buttons on his watch. “Where’d he run off to?” You ask him. “No clue. Trying to track him now but the touchpad isn’t responding.” He grunts and furiously taps his screen but it seems to be glitching. He tries to open a portal back to HQ but it only warbles a little bit before shutting close again. “Let me try.” You lift up your watch to try and press the same coordinates when it responds the same way: a little warping but it shuts close. “Lyla,” Miguel calls out and she pops up between you two. “Run an analysis on our watches.” Her small heart glasses fog up with various numbers and letters, codes that only she knows. “Looks like the watches are bugged, Mig. Probably an effect the anomaly had.” “So we’re stranded?” You rip off your mask and place a hand on your hip. “Yup!” She nods. “For how long?” Miguel pinches his nose bridge with his finger and thumb.

“Well, most part-time spiders are off doing other missions in other dimensions and the other half of them have the day off. No one will be available until morning.” “So, we’re staying the night.” You lift your arms up and slap them down. “I’m finding a hotel.” You turn and look around for any around you two. Miguel sighs and faces Lyla. “Is there another way home? Are we safe from the glitching?” Lyla nods, pulling up frames and data for him to look at. “Safe from glitching. Probably just a program issue. Maybe an update issue. Unfortunately, not even Margo is at HQ so your next bet is waiting for a spider to portal you two back.” She explains and glitches out of the air. He tries to find a new solution but comes up short, deciding to just accept it before he grows angry. Miguel hears you calling his name as you run back to where Lyla and him were standing. “Okay, I found a hotel! I talked to this lady up front–luckily the currency is the same as yours–and we got extra lucky,” You huffed with a wide smile on your face. “They’re pretty busy but she managed to get us a room with two beds and two bathrooms. Left her a tip, hope you don’t mind.” You placed your hands on your hips and continued to grin at the frown on his lips.

Miguel rolled his eyes and called for Lyla, her little form glitching back and perching on his shoulder. “Lyla, get back to base. Let the others know we’ve been stranded and call for backup whenever someone’s available.” Her vibrant yellow glare shifts as she moves, her hand coming up in a salute and a police hat glitching on her head. “You got it, boss! Have fun you two!” She giggles and phases out. Miguel passes by you coldly, heading for the hotel where you booked for the night. You yawn behind him, just wanting to rest after a wasted day of failing to catch an anomaly. You walked through the hallways of the hotel, checking down at your key for the number of your room. Once you found it, you slipped the keycard on the lock and opened the door. “Home sweet–” You cut yourself off after peeking into the room and what greeted you was a singular bed. “Wha–?!” You glanced back at the roomkey number and the plate outside, finding the two matching that this was indeed your room for the night. “I swear I asked for two–” “I’ll take the floor.” Miguel grumbles behind you, his entire frame stiff and rigid. You take a look up at him and his face is unamused and staring straight ahead to avoid your eye. “No, it’s–it’s fine,” You chuckle nervously and walk over to the bed. You pat the edge of it and try to convince yourself and Miguel that everything was fine. “There’s so much space. It’s like–what– a king size? We have plenty of room to share!” Miguel doesn’t seem convinced in the slightest, already making a move to grab a pillow. “I don’t even move that much in my sleep! Promise! Pinky promise.” You hold up your pinky to Miguel and he stops to stare at your hand with a deadpan expression. “Fine.” He grunts, placing the pillow back down and not wanting to deal with you any further since he was exhausted.

You, in fact, actually do move a lot in your sleep–Miguel figured out. He really was exhausted and expected himself to pass out as soon as his head hit the pillow but with you next to him, it was like the energy hadn’t left his body. He laid there straight as a pole with the blanket at his chest and staring at the ceiling. You were in dreamland, snoozing and sprawled on the mattress– blissfully unaware of Miguel’s misery by the situation at hand. You shifted around in your sleep, your hand hitting his shoulder or your leg bumping against his ankle. Miguel could handle it. He’s spent many uncomfortable all-nighters so he thought to himself that one more wouldn’t be too damaging for him. It wasn’t until you moved further to his side of the bed that had Miguel’s heart racing. You turned to his side, throwing your leg over his and your arm draped around his neck to bring him closer to you. His arm instinctively went under your body and held your waist while you pressed yourself against him, so as to not make the position uncomfortable for either of you. Miguel’s cheeks burned while you nuzzled to his chest, acting like he was some sort of teddy bear. He hoped his heartbeat wouldn’t wake you from your slumber. Your thighs were close together and any closer you’d start accidentally grinding on him. Miguel looked back up at the ceiling and prayed that you’d move soon.

His prayers were not answered. You woke up after feeling a bit too much heat and it became unbearable to sleep through. You blinked away the sleep groggily, wondering why the pillow you had been on had gotten a little more firm. You lifted your head to see you weren’t on your pillow but basically cuddling up against your boss. You looked down to see your legs intertwined together and turned your head to apologize when you stopped seeing Miguel’s cheeks flush red. His eyes did not meet yours but you felt the pounding of his heart. A smile curled up on your lips, apology wiped off your mind and instead leaning into wanting to taunt him for how shy he’s acting. “Miguel,” You tease with a bit of laughter. “Aw, c’mon. A little accidental cuddle gets you nervous?” Miguel glares at you from the corner of his eye. As you laugh, you continue moving against him. You don’t notice how he takes a sharp inhale when your knee brushes against his crotch as you lift yourself up. Your hands rest on either side of his head. “Did you even sleep? Or did you just stay up all night like some perv?” You snort, having the time of your life seeing your usually sulking boss look so cute with red scattered across his cheeks. Miguel squeezes your waist then uses both his hands to grab you and force you down on his thigh. You gasp in shock, all playfulness leaving your body as your core hits his firm muscle. The action ignites a spark in your chest that sends it straight between your legs, making you whimper, all in a split second.

You snap your head towards him, cheeks already burning and mouth dropped open in shock. Miguel meets it with a cheshire like grin, his own blush on his cheeks but less now that you’re more flustered than him. “Careful,” He says. “Wouldn’t want to be some sort of perv, huh?” You could’ve sworn his voice dropped down an octave. You stutter, unable to respond back as he rendered you speechless. His thigh flexed and it sent a jolt up your spine with your cunt throbbing which he felt. Maybe it was him being tired, drained from the day that he was acting out of character. Too tired to care about the consequences while his mind clouded and numbed his usual feelings. For now, he enjoyed the way your hands gripped onto his shoulders, cute eyes wide open and feeling the delicious beat of your pussy on his thigh. He rubs your hips on his thigh, his muscle flexing to put some stimulation to your pussy. You squeak and lean forward as the pleasure runs through your body and makes you grow hot. “Miguel…!” You gasp and moan. You automatically grind yourself on him and his grin widens, leaning back to see the show. Miguel feels your wetness seep through the thin fabric of your suit and panties onto his own suit. He phases just a small part of his thigh out his suit to feel just how wet you’ve gotten with a little teasing. “Already?” He murmurs and your cheeks burn brightly. “You like this, huh?” “Fuck…” You huff out, hanging your head to not meet his gaze. Your nails dig into his shoulder as he moves your hips. “C’mon. Show me how much you like this.” You know he was only doing this to get back at you for teasing him, for booking a one bed instead of two and with how his patience had run out from being stranded here, you decided not to test that anger anymore.

So you slowly moved up and down his thigh with a soft whimper, shutting your eyes close while you did so. Your breathing grew heavy, and you shook with every slight movement on his end. Slowly, you picked up speed, the lust flooding your mind and the pace you were going at hadn’t been enough. You humped his thigh faster, still opting out of looking down at him. “Shit…Not enough…” You murmured under your breath, not thinking he’d heard you over the accumulating wet sounds on his skin and shuffling of bed sheets. “Let me help.” You hear him say and feel his hand by the zipper of your suit at the nape of your neck. Weak from your pleasure, you let him tug your suit off your torso. Miguel tapped your thighs as a signal to lift yourself up while he slipped the rest of it off you. You were now bare in front of him, his hands placed back at your hips. You still felt embarrassed, trying to cover up your chest with your arms and hands. Miguel wasn’t having it, growing annoyed at you covering yourself. He cupped the back of your neck and pulled you flushed down on his chest. “Keep going.” He growled. The rumble of his voice went straight to your cunt once more, succumbing to him as you began grinding yourself on him, skin to skin. Your folds smeared your juices on his thighs coating him in your wetness. The swollen nub of your clit rolled deliciously between you and his thigh and you panted softly as you tried chasing you high.

“There you go. That’s it.” Miguel murmured, bucking his thigh to your pussy to the same pace of your humping. He held your hip with one hand to help you and his other hand raked up and down your back, his talons scratching your flesh. “You’re doing so good. Good girl riding my thigh, yeah?” He purred which made you groan and buck your hips faster. “Miguel…” You breathed out. “More, more.” You pleaded. His talons pricked your skin. “Cum on my thigh first and maybe I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

Peter B. met you two once the portal fully opened up in your stranded dimension. He greeted you with a smile, Mayday babbling in her carrier. “Hey! Glad you guys survived the night. Took a minute to get you guys. Sorry about that.” He playfully punched Miguel’s and your shoulder. You beamed at him and held Mayday’s little hand, wiggling it around softly enough to make her giggle. “Hope it wasn’t agonizing.” Peter chuckles to you. You chuckle back and step away from Mayday, giving the two a smile. “Not at all. He’s surprisingly good company.” Miguel doesn’t react behind you. “Oh, yeah? Must be going soft. Big guy isn’t just pleasant for anybody.” Peter says. “Funny how things work out.” You grin and turn around to peck Miguel’s cheek and walk towards the portal. “I’ll see you guys later?” You give a wink and slip into the portal, your body phasing out and leaving the two men behind. Peter gapes at the warping space where you had just left and slowly turns to Miguel to see his friend, very much stiff but his face has a slight tint to it. “Did something happen–” Miguel shoves his face aside and phases his mask over his head to hide his cheeks. “Cállate.” He mutters and enters into the portal towards his dimension.

Peter gets snapped out of his stupor by Mayday babbling and waving her arms around as if cheering Miguel and you on. Peter looks down at her and grabs her little hand in his. “He’s growin’ up, huh?” Mayday squeals.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #atsv x reader #nonie requests ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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zuhaism · 9 months

Text

⊹ ｡˚ 𓂃 ♡ SAVIOUR ?! ┊ kim minjeong ⁺

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synopsis : you saved your tutor and she finds out about your double life

pairing : spiderwoman!reader x tutor!minjeong

genre : highschool!au, fluff uwu

authors note : the ending sucks btw. i just couldnt think anymore. DID NOT PROOFREAD. its 2am pls

“bye minjeong!” y/n said as she turned around the corner. parting ways. minjeong just finished tutoring y/n. which was hard becuase she spent most of the time staring at the taller as she did her work. it was also hard for minjeong because y/n kept on getting distracted while she was explaining.

“… and thats how it becomes an alloy- y/n are you listening?” minjeong looked back up to the younger.

“hm what yeah! i was just..” y/n looked away trying to come up with an excuse. ignoring the way her face was heating up when she got caught. “uh please continue minjeong im sorry i got distracted” y/n looked down in dissapointment.

minjeong smiled and thought that the pout y/n was sporting pretty cute.

it was now 9pm and the streets were dimly lit. theres was several people around. not too much as she sighed.

continued walking in the cold night. she kept on walking until she reached the part of the walk where she hates the most. she had to pass a creepy alleyway to get to her house. “fuck” she whispered under her breath. as she saw two male bodies leaning on the wall, puffing on their cigarettes.

she mustered up the courage to go through the alleyway. there was no other way around if she wanted to get home. her heartbeat fastens as she got closer and their chattering slowly stopped. they turned their attention towards her.

as she walked past them. she heard the sound of cigarettes being stomped on. light footsteps were following her. ‘im fucked’. suddenly a hand was placed on her shoulder. she prayed to the seven gods for her to get home safe tonight.

𓇼

this has become a norm to you for the past few weeks. following minjeong home not in a creepy stalker way but to just make sure she’s safe.

after turning the corner you immediately ran into a secluded alleyway and change into your suit. you climbed up the walls. running to minjeongs usual path to go home.

you were on the roof looking down at her as she stopped and then walked into an alleyway. keeping an eye on minjeong wasnt hard at all.

minjeong walked past two men leaned against the wall smoking a cigarette. you could see the uneasiness in her way of walking. the alarms in your head blared as one of the men held onto her shoulder.

“where you going at this time of night pretty lady?” you heard the skrunkly old man say. minjeong was frozen on the spot she couldn’t do anything.

you immediately got down to her when he pulled on her shoulder “ya answer me” he said rather loudly. your webs holding onto a pole and swung down lining up a kick to his head.

making the man stumble backwards into his friends arm. “my fucking face!” he yelped. you let go from the web and stood infront of minjeong. here you were again analysing her features just as you did during tutoring. her teary eyes looked up at you.

you gave her a reassuring smile which she probably didn’t see since it was covered by your mask. but it was immediately wiped off your face when you saw the guy about to strike minjeong.

you moved her out the way while your face was struck. “ah fuck!” you cursed loudly. the ring from his finger tore your mask and cause your lower cheek to scar and bleed.

you ignored it “man and i was gonna go easy on you” you webbed his fists to the wall as he was about to jump you again. his friend went for you next and you did the same thing.

both of them ended up webbed high up onto the side of the building as you turned to minjeong. smiling at her trying to assure her that shes safe now. “do you want me to send you home?”

a beat or two passes where minjeong just stares at you and not answering you. “uh .. ill just send you somewhere safe.” it would be much weirder if you knew where she lived from her point of view.

you pulled her by her waist closer to you. minjeong let out a squel and wrapped her arms around your shoulder as you swung up the building.

as the cool night air rushed past them, minjeong couldn't help but feel an exhilarating mix of fear and wonder. clinging tightly to spiderwoman, she marveled at the cityscape unfolding beneath them. the skyscrapers became a breathtaking blur as they soared through the night.

in that moment, Minjeong's mind raced, a whirlwind of thoughts echoing the beating of her heart. She stole glances at the heroes masked face.

amids the adrenaline and uncertainty, minjeong found herself oddly comforted. the heroes reassuring presence, masked though it was, provided a sense of safety. she couldn't help but steal glances at the hero who had just swooped in to rescue her. the cut on the mysterious womans's face, a visible scar from the fight.

minjeong tells you her address in a whisper. it being a sign to send her straight home. it wasn’t smart of her to give her address to strangers, even if they saved her life. but for some reason she trusted you.

you slowly let her down onto the outdoor stairwell that connected to her window after she guided you to it. you crouched on the railing as she fixed herself. you took this time to analyse her whole figure.

wearing only a hoodie and some sweatpants. “you should wear a jacket, its cold out” minjeong nodded looking up at you. you getting flustered and looking everywhere except her.

“you’re hurt” she broke the silence. Feeling embarrassed about taking a punch in front of someone you find attractive. despite the pain you chuckled. “ah yeah it happens. uhm you’re safe now have a nice night bye !”

you rambled trying to avoid the topic and then jumping off at the last sentence. swinging as fast as you can.

𓇼

“fuck..” you looked at the cut that was just above your jaw. it was prominent red. closing the locker door that had your mirror hanged.

you decided to ignore it and rush to class before the bell rings. unbeknownst to you, you walked past a shorter girl who noticed the cut on your face that was similar to the hero that saved her last night.

𓇼

“y/n!” you heard the familiar voice calling for you. turning around and was greeting with minjeong fast walking towards you across the almost empty hallway.

“hey minjeong i didnt know there was tutoring today! ill text my mom real qui-“

“no no y/n stop…” she paused, collecting her breath. “just… come with me” minjeong shook her head and took your hand.

she dragged you to the nurses office and sat you down on the bed. you didnt have time to ask her what shes doing until.

she pushed you to sit down on one of the nursing beds and held onto your chin to get a better look of the scar. there was a flicker of concern in her gaze, mingled with a touch of curiosity. as she applied the cotton pad to the wound, her expression shifted to a more focused and determined demeanor. her small hands moved with precision, yet there was a gentleness in her touch that betrayed a hidden tenderness.

while tending to your injury, a subtle tension lingered in the air. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she worked, silently contemplating the uncanny coincidences she had noticed lately. As she finished up, her gaze met yours, and for a moment, a hint of suspicion remained in her eyes.

"interesting how you always seem to get into trouble. any specific reason for this particular injury?"

you grinned, brushing off the question with your usual optimism. "just another clumsy mishap, you know me."

minjeong’s eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of suspicion lingering. "clumsy mishap or something more? ive noticed some uncanny coincidences lately."

you shrugged nonchalantly, feigning innocence. "coincidences happen, right?"

minjeong’s expression remained inscrutable, but there was an underlying tension in the air. you couldnt think straight as minjeong was so close to your face. her small hands tidying up your wound. you could feel her faint breath on your chin

"coincidences or connections to spiderwoman? yea coincidences right"

you paused at that, giving way a more guarded expression. "i... i don't know what you're talking about, minjeong." minjeong shrugs not caring as she tended to your wound. throwing away rubbish and finishing up then looking back at you.

“how long have you been spiderwoman?”

you heaved a sigh. letting your head down while minjeong was between your legs. “since the last two years.” she nods approvingly. “that’s cool”

she says looking at her feet while you put your gaze on her. the tension in the room growing as the seconds go by. “thank you for saving me” she said just above a whisper. seeing the tips of her ears turn red.

a grin broke out from your face. “it’s my job minjeong. “ you stood up. dusting off yourself then looking down at her. her gaze was still on her feet.

“thank you minjeong” you broke the silence. she didnt look up at you. instead she sucked in her breath and wrapped her arms around you. hugging you.

“thank you for saving me..” she nuzzles her head closer into the crook of your neck. not knowing what to do you just patted her back.

“i was so worried when i saw that scar on your face. i just cant imagine you getting hurt that bad”

finally relaxing your body (totally not trying to normalise your heart rate). “its fine minjeong in used to it” she looked up at you as you said that. “that’s the problem.. you shouldn’t get used to it.”

squirming out of her hold to hug her back. “just.. come to me if you ever need help” she mumbled, closing her eyes leaning her body into you. as you stood there with your heart beating faster than ever.

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bloodreinasbathwater · 3 months

Text

Where Kings Land

Part 1

Jacaerys Velaryon x Stark! Reader

a.n: I finally get the hype about Jace. This right here is one fine man. the hair, the freckles, the big nose. ALL of it. this is part 1 of the miniseries for House of the Dragon, and it's my first time writing outside of the regular asoiaf series. Enjoy and please lmk what you think!!

Warnings: manipulation, not proofread, yelling, cursing? talk of beheading and treason.

Word Count: 4,900

masterlist link

summary: In the harsh lands of the North, where winter's bite is ever-present, a tale of duty, desire, and deception unfolds within the ancient walls of Winterfell. Y/N Stark, sister to the absent Lord Cregan, finds herself caught in a web of political intrigue as the realm teeters on the brink of civil war.

...

The heavy wooden door slammed behind her with a resounding thud, echoing through the granite corridors of Winterfell. Y/n Stark—sister to the Lord of Winterfell, Cregan Stark—strode purposefully down the hallway, her frustration evident in every step. The torches lining the walls cast flickering shadows across her face, highlighting the furrow of her brow. She yanked her fur cloak tighter around her shoulders, warding off the perpetual chill that seeped through the ancient stones. The servants scurried out of her path, lowering their eyes as she passed. Y/n barely noticed them, her mind occupied with the litany of tasks that lay before her. The castle, a sprawling behemoth of grey stone and timber, was a living, breathing entity, and Y/n felt the weight of its responsibilities press down on her.

Cregan, her brother, was a warrior, a leader born to the battlefield. He thrived on the thrill of the hunt, the clash of steel, the shouts of battle. The day-to-day running of Winterfell, the endless paperwork, the constant negotiations, the delicate dance of alliances and diplomacy… these fell upon his shoulders. He was a silent force, a steady hand guiding the ship through the turbulent seas of politics and power.

Reaching the grand hall, Y/n paused, her gaze sweeping over the gathered lords and ladies. Their conversations buzzed like a hive of bees, their laughter echoing off the vaulted ceiling. She longed to be amongst them, to share in the joy of a feast, to ease the burden of her thoughts, but the weight of the impending winter hung heavy on her heart.

The biting wind whipped around Y/n's face as she ascended the final steps to the maester's tower. The air was thick with the scent of parchment and old magic, a familiar and comforting aroma despite its inherent chill. Inside, the room was bathed in the soft glow of a single lantern, casting long shadows across the piles of scrolls and tomes that littered the floor. Y/n's boots clicked against the stone floor, a sharp counterpoint to the rustle of the raven that perched on the window sill, its beady eyes fixed on her with an unsettling intelligence. The bird was a harbinger of news, always, and today, its arrival had filled her with a sense of foreboding dread.

“You've got ravens in your hair,” the maester, Alyn, said with a dry chuckle, his voice raspy from years of whispering secrets into ancient texts. He was a frail figure, his fingers gnarled and stained with ink, his eyes filled with a wisdom that seemed to encompass the entirety of the world. She brushed at her hair, dislodging a stray feather that had become entangled in its braids. 'They know I'm coming for them,' she said, her voice tight. 'They always seem to.'

Alyn nodded, a knowing glint in his eyes. 'King's Landing sends more than its fair share of worries north,' he said, gesturing to the table in the centre of the room. It was an imposing piece, carved from ancient oak, the surface groaning under the weight of a mountain of sealed parchments. Y/n sighed, letting the weight of the responsibility settle upon her shoulders. Every one of those scrolls contained a new burden, a new demand, a new headache she would have to unravel. The North had always been harsh, a land of unforgiving winters and fiercer people.

'What's the news, maester?' she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Alyn shuffled through the pile of scrolls, his gaze searching for a particular one. “They're now threatening us with dragon fire, my lady,” he stated solemnly, the chain around his neck clinking softly.

Y/n's eyes narrowed as she surveyed the pile of letters that lay on the table before her. Her jaw clenched, her anger rising like a tide. “Burn them,” she commanded, her voice sharp and decisive. “Burn all the letters. We will not answer, nor will we cower.”

Alyn's eyebrows rose in surprise, but Y/n's resolve only grew stronger. “Prince Jacaerys should be here any day. We will make good with the Blacks.”

Maester Alyn leaned back in his chair, studying her face. 'Are you certain, my lady? This is a dangerous game we play. The Green's dragons—"

“Are no more fearsome than the winter that forged us,” Y/n cut him off. She moved to the window, gazing out over the frost-covered courtyard. “My brother may be in the north of the Wall, but we will not be cowed by southern threats.”

Her words echoed through the frigid halls, carrying with them a resolute determination that belied her youth. “You are right, my lady,” he said at last.

Y/n turned to him, a flicker of gratitude in her eyes. “Thank you, Maester Alyn. Please, have the letters burned. We must prepare for the prince's arrival. We’ll show him true Northern hospitality. And maester," she added, a hint of a smile playing at her lips, "make sure we have plenty of that strong northern ale. We'll need it for the toast when we pledge our support to Queen Rhaenyra."

Maester Alyn nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his eyes. He reached for the candle on his desk, ready to carry out her orders. "As you wish, my lady. there's one more," he said softly, holding out a sealed parchment. "It arrived separately... and it's addressed to you personally."

Y/n hesitated, then took the letter. The seal bore the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen, but something about it seemed different. More... personal. With a swift motion, she broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. Her eyes scanned the contents, and her face hardened.

"It's from Aegon," she said, her voice tight. She began to read aloud:

"My dearest y/n,

The silence between us cuts like shards of Valyrian steel, slicing through my soul. Do you remember the stolen moments in the godswood, under the watchful eyes of the old gods? The promises we made beneath the heart tree?I await your reply to our ravens with bated breath, much as I once awaited your stolen glances across the great hall.

But make no mistake, my white wolf. Your beauty will not shield the North from my wrath should you choose wrongly. Aemond grows impatient and Vhagar hungers for blood. With one word, we could reduce Winterfell to nothing but ash and bone.

Remember this, my sweetling: fire destroys ice. And dragons do not forgive.

Choose wisely. Choose me.

Yours in fire and blood, Aegon Targaryen, Second of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm"

y/n’s hand shook as she finished reading, her knuckles white where she gripped the parchment. The maester watched her, concern etched on his weathered face.

"My lady," he began cautiously, "what—"

"Burn it," Y/n interrupted, her voice cold as the Wall itself. "Burn it with the rest." She tossed the letter onto the pile, her eyes blazing with a fury to match any dragon's flame.

…

Amidst the icy grip of the winter, the last traces of sunlight had long since disappeared beyond the horizon when a thunderous beating of dragon wings shattered the bleak silence. Y/n stood in Winterfell's snowy courtyard, her chilled breath leaving clouds in the frigid air as she looked up to witness the dark shape descending from the sky.

With ethereal grace surprising for its size, the dragon landed with a resounding thud and steam rising from its scales as they met the frosty ground. As its rider dismounted, y/n found herself frozen in place, her carefully prepared greeting dying on her lips.

Prince Jacaerys Velaryon strode towards her, his Valyrian features softened by Stark coloring. Dark curls framed his face, windswept from the flight. But it was his eyes that caught y/n off guard - soft and kind, yet holding a depth that spoke of burdens she had yet to find out.

For a moment, the world seemed to fall away. Y/n's heart raced as she stood before the prince, a stranger yet somehow familiar. She couldn't explain the sudden pull she felt towards him, as if they shared a connection beyond words. But at the same time, fear and doubt crept in, questioning if this was all just a dream or a cruel trick of fate.

Jacaerys approached, his movements as graceful as the dragon he rode. His brow furrowed slightly at her silence. He glanced around, perhaps wondering if he'd made some misstep. Finally, he bowed low, breaking the spell. "Lady Stark," he said, his voice a low, warm timbre that sent a shiver down her spine. " I am honored to meet you. And I thank you for your hospitality."

Y/n blinked, suddenly aware of the eyes of the entire courtyard upon them. She straightened, pulling her mask of cool composure back into place. "Prince Jacaerys," she replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. "Winterfell welcomes you. Please, come inside where it's warm. We have much to discuss."

As she turned to lead him into the castle, Y/n caught the prince studying her with curiosity. She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze with a challenging look of her own. Whatever this feeling was, she couldn't afford to let it distract her. The fate of the North hung in the balance.

Yet as they walked, she couldn't help but be acutely aware of his presence just behind her, like the warmth of a flame at her back in the cold northern night.

…

The Brown Room lived up to its name, with rich walnut paneling and fur-draped chairs that spoke of comfort in the face of long northern nights. Y/N led Jacaerys inside, the scent of beeswax candles and old parchment greeting them. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the cluttered table where ledgers and letters vied for space.

Y/N gestured to a high-backed chair. "Please, sit," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. She reached for a decanter, the crystal cool against her fingers. "Would you care for some wine, my Lord? It's a Dornish red – my favorite one."

Jacaerys settled into the chair, his eyes roaming the room before settling on Y/N. "Thank you, my lady. And please, call me Jace."

As she poured, a drop of wine escaped, staining the cuff of her sleeve crimson. Y/N barely noticed, too aware of Jace's proximity, the warmth radiating from him in the cool room.

"What did you wish to discuss, my lady?" Jace broached softly, accepting the goblet with a nod of thanks.

Suddenly, the room felt stifling. Y/N's heavy fur cloak, a necessity in Winterfell's drafty halls, now seemed unbearable. She shed it, draping it over the tall oak chair behind her. The firelight caught the silver direwolf clasp as it settled.

"Our support," Y/N replied, forcing herself to meet Jace's gaze. His eyes, she noticed, were flecked with gold in the candlelight. She swallowed hard and continued, "We have two thousand men. Strong northern fighters. We call them Winter Wolves."

Jace leaned forward, interest piqued. "Winter Wolves? An apt name, I'd wager."

Y/N allowed herself a small smile. "Indeed. They're as fierce as their namesake and twice as loyal." She moved to the table, rifling through the papers until she found a particular map. As she spread it out, the familiar scent of ink and parchment helped ground her.

"Here," she pointed, "is where we've gathered them. They await only my brother's word - or mine, in his absence."

Jace stood, moving to study the map. His arm brushed Y/N's as he leaned in, and she caught a whiff of leather and something else - perhaps the lingering scent of dragon scales. Jacaerys studied the map closely, tracing his fingers over the different markings and symbols. He was impressed by the precision and detail of the Winter Wolves' gathering points.

"Your brother must be a formidable leader to have gathered such a force in such a short time," Jace remarked, straightening up and turning to face Y/N.

"Yes, he is," Y/N said with pride.

"This is... more than we dared hope for," Jace admitted, his voice low and warm.

Outside, a wolf howled in the distance, a lonely sound that seemed to echo Y/N's inner turmoil. She squared her shoulders, pushing away the unwelcome feelings. Jace's brow furrowed as he studied Y/N's face. "My lady, are you well? You seem... flushed."

Y/N startled, realizing she'd been staring. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, painfully aware of the dampness at her temples. "I'm fine, my- Jace," she corrected herself. "I was... under the weather a few days ago. Nothing serious."

Jace's eyes softened with concern. Jace's hand hovers near Y/N's elbow, his fingers poised as if ready to reach out and catch her. She can feel the warmth radiating off of his skin, and she can sense the electricity between them, even though he's not quite touching her. "Perhaps you should sit. We needn't discuss everything tonight."

The gentleness in his voice made Y/N's heart flutter. She sank into a nearby chair, Jace following suit. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, giving her his full attention. His eyes were pools of liquid silver, soft and caring as they searched Y/N's face.

"Tell me," he said softly, "how are you truly faring? It can't be easy, managing the North in your brother's absence."

Y/N's carefully constructed walls began to crumble under his earnest gaze. "It's... challenging," she admitted. "Especially with the constant stream of demands from King's Landing."

Jace's expression darkened. "Ah, yes. I've heard whispers of Aegon's... correspondence."

Y/N couldn't hide the flash of frustration that crossed her face. "Correspondence," she scoffed. "Threats, more like. Your cousin seems to think he can bully the North into submission."

"My cousin," Jace said, his voice low and intense, "forgets that winter roses have thorns." He reached out, this time taking Y/N's hand in his. The touch sent a jolt through her. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it. "You needn't face this alone, my lady."

Y/N found herself lost in his eyes, warm and sincere. "I... thank you, Jace," she murmured.

A log shifted in the fireplace, sending up a shower of sparks. Jace glanced at the flames, then back to Y/N, a mischievous smile playing at his lips. "You know, where I come from, they say the dragonfires pale in comparison to the warmth of a northern welcome."

Despite herself, Y/N laughed. "Is that so? And how does our hospitality measure up?"

Jace's thumb traced circles on the back of her hand, his touch feather-light. "Oh, it exceeds all expectations, my lady. Though I must confess, I find myself most warmed by present company."

Y/N felt her cheeks burn, but for once, she didn't mind the heat. A small smile tugged at the corners of Y/N's lips as she gazed into his captivating eyes. "You're quite the charmer, Prince Jacaerys."

"Only when properly inspired," is all he replied.

…

The pale light of dawn crept over Winterfell's stone walls, casting long shadows across the frosted courtyard. Y/N stood in the stables, her breath visible in the crisp morning air.

Her fingers, slightly numb from the cold, worked methodically on the leather straps of her horse's saddle. The familiar motions were soothing - tighten, adjust, check, repeat. The rich scent of hay and horse sweat mingled with the earthy aroma of leather oil.

As she worked, Y/N caught herself glancing repeatedly towards the castle, anticipation building in her chest.

The sound of approaching footsteps made her heart quicken. Jace appeared in the stable doorway, silhouetted against the brightening sky. He stifled a yawn, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Y/N noticed the slight disarray of his dark curls and felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to smooth them.

"My lady," Jace greeted, his voice husky with sleep. He cleared his throat, offering a sheepish smile. "You're up early."

Y/N felt the corners of her mouth twitch upward. "The North waits for no one, Your Grace," she replied, handing him a set of reins. Their fingers brushed, and Y/N pretended not to notice the warmth that spread from the point of contact. "Are you ready for an adventure?"

As they set out, the rhythmic clop of hooves against cobblestone gave way to the muffled thud of earth. The misty woods enveloped them, tendrils of fog curling around the horses' legs. Droplets of dew clung to Y/N's eyelashes, refracting the weak sunlight into tiny prisms.

Y/N led the way, her posture relaxed and confident in the saddle. She navigated the invisible path with ease, ducking low-hanging branches and steering around hidden roots. Behind her, she could hear Jace's horse snorting softly, its rider muttering gentle reassurances.

"I can hardly see the path," Jace called out, a note of uncertainty in his voice.

Y/N twisted in her saddle, catching Jace's eye with a mischievous glint in her own. "That's because there isn't one," she replied, allowing a rare, playful smile to cross her features.

The forest was a symphony of morning sounds. Birds trilled their dawn chorus, their songs echoing through the mist-shrouded trees. Small creatures rustled in the underbrush, sending leaves skittering across the forest floor. The earthy scent of damp soil and pine needles filled the air, punctuated by the occasional whiff of wild mint when Y/N's horse trampled a hidden patch.

Hours seemed to pass as they wound their way through the increasingly dense forest. Y/N found herself hyper-aware of Jace's presence behind her. She could feel his eyes on her back, and fought the urge to glance over her shoulder more often than necessary.

Finally, they came upon a rocky outcropping. Y/N dismounted with practiced grace, her boots sinking slightly into the damp earth. She patted her horse's flank, murmuring soft words of thanks. From the corner of her eye, she watched Jace dismount, noting the slight stiffness in his movements after the long ride.

Jace stretched, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension. His brow furrowed as he surveyed their surroundings. "My lady," he began, a hint of amusement in his tone, "I hate to question your expertise, but this looks suspiciously like a dead end."

Y/N's laugh echoed off the rocks, startling a nearby bird into flight. "Patience, Your Grace," she said, her eyes twinkling with secret knowledge. "The best treasures are often hidden."

She reached out, taking Jace's hand in hers. His palm was warm against her cool fingers, and she felt a flutter in her stomach at the contact. Pushing the feeling aside, she led him towards what appeared to be a solid rock face.

As they drew closer, a narrow opening revealed itself, barely visible unless one knew exactly where to look. Y/N squeezed through first, tugging Jace along behind her. The passage was tight, the rough stone scraping against their shoulders. Cool, damp air enveloped them, carrying the faint mineral scent of underground water.

Jace's breath was warm on the back of Y/N's neck as they inched forward in the dim light. She was acutely aware of his presence, of the way his chest occasionally brushed against her back in the narrow confines.

Suddenly, the passage opened up. Y/N stepped aside, allowing Jace to fully enter the cavern. She watched his face intently, savoring the moment his eyes widened in awe.

Sunlight streamed through an opening high above, illuminating a spectacular waterfall. The water, tinted an ethereal light blue by minerals in the rock, cascaded down in a thunderous rush before crashing into a pool below. Mist rose from the impact, creating tiny rainbows where the light hit just right.

"By the gods," Jace breathed, his voice barely audible over the roar of the falls. He turned to Y/N, wonder written across his features. "It's incredible."

Y/N felt a warmth bloom in her chest at his reaction. "Welcome to my secret place," she said softly, suddenly feeling shy. "Not even Cregan knows about this."

Jace's gaze softened as he looked at her, something unspoken passing between them. "Thank you for sharing this with me," he said, his voice low and sincere.

They settled on a smooth rock near the pool's edge, close enough that their shoulders nearly touched. The mist from the falls cooled their skin, a welcome relief after the long ride. Y/N pulled out a small bundle from her saddlebag - bread, cheese, and a flask of sweet northern ale.

The conversation lulled, replaced by the constant rush of the waterfall. Y/N traced patterns in the damp sand with a stick, her eyes distant. Jace watched her, noting the slight furrow in her brow.

"A copper for your thoughts, my lady?" he asked softly.

Y/N looked up, a rueful smile tugging at her lips. "Just thinking about duties," she said. "They never seem to end, do they?"

Jace nodded, understanding in his eyes. "The burden of our birthrights," he agreed. "Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be free of them."

"Free," Y/N echoed, the word hanging in the mist between them. She sighed, tossing the stick into the pool. "Cregan writes often of my duties. He's pressuring me more and more to find a husband."

Jace's expression shifted, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. "I... I apologize if I'm intruding, but may I ask why you haven't? Surely you've had no shortage of suitors."

Y/N met his gaze, finding unexpected comfort in the warmth she saw there. "Because I want love," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I want a simple life, filled with moments like this." She gestured to the cavern around them. "But how can I promise forever to someone when tomorrow is so uncertain? How can I build a life amidst a war?"

Jace was quiet for a moment, considering her words. "Love in wartime," he mused. "It's not an easy path, but perhaps... perhaps it's the very thing that makes the fight worthwhile."

Y/N felt her heart quicken at his words. "And what of you, Prince Jacaerys? What does your heart seek in these troubled times?"

Jace's gaze softened as he looked at her. "I seek a partner," he said quietly. "Someone to stand beside me, not behind me. Someone who understands duty but hasn't lost sight of dreams." He paused, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Someone who knows the value of secret waterfalls and stolen moments."

The air between them seemed to crackle with unspoken possibility. Y/N felt drawn to him, like a moth to flame, but held herself back. This was not the time, not with so much at stake.

"It seems we both seek something rare and precious," she said, her voice thick with emotion.

Jace nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "Perhaps the gods will be kind," he murmured.

…

The iron-bound gates of Winterfell groaned open, admitting Y/N and Jace as the sun dipped below the horizon. The air was thick with the scent of pine and woodsmoke, punctuated by the sharp tang of approaching frost. Their horses' hooves clattered against the worn cobblestones, the sound echoing off the ancient stone walls.

As they dismounted, Y/N felt the day's exertion in her muscles, a pleasant ache that spoke of adventure and freedom. She caught Jace's eye, noticing how the fading light caught the silver threads in his jerkin, making them shimmer like starlight.

"Jace," she began, her voice low and tinged with an emotion she dared not name, "today was—"

"Lady Y/N! Lady Y/N!" The frantic shout shattered the moment like a stone through ice.

Y/N's transformation was instantaneous and mesmerizing. Her shoulders squared, chin lifting as if an invisible crown had settled upon her brow. The softness in her eyes hardened to flint, sharp enough to cut.

"What is it?" she demanded, her voice crisp as a midwinter morning.

The guard skidded to a halt before them, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "My lady, there's been... an incident. You're needed urgently."

Y/N nodded curtly. "Lead on," she commanded, then turned to Jace. "Your Grace, I must attend to this. Perhaps we could speak later..."

Jace stepped forward, close enough that Y/N could smell the leather of his riding gloves and a hint of something spicy—cloves, perhaps. "If you'll allow me, I'd like to accompany you.”

Y/N hesitated, then inclined her head in agreement. They followed the guard, their footsteps echoing through Winterfell's torch-lit corridors. The warmth of the castle was a stark contrast to the chill outside, yet Y/N felt a different kind of coldness settling in her bones.

They entered a small, dim room that reeked of fear and desperation. A man knelt on the floor, the rattle of his chains a counterpoint to his broken sobs. In the flickering torchlight, his tear-stained face looked ghastly, almost skull-like.

"What has he done?" Y/N's voice cut through the room like a blade.

The man looked up, his eyes wide and pleading. Y/N's voice sliced through the tense atmosphere like a blade, her words sharp and filled with accusation. The man shrunk back in his seat, his eyes wide and pleading as he desperately tried to defend himself.

"My lady," he stammered, "I beg you... I was only going to King's Landing, to pledge myself to King Aegon, my children. Is that such a crime?" His voice trembled with fear and uncertainty, his hands shaking as he awaited her judgement.

Y/N's gaze bore into him, seeking any sign of deceit or treachery. Observation seemed to be her weapon of choice, and she wielded it with expert precision. Y/N's lips thinned. "If you wished to leave, you could have done so freely. We do not hold men against their will in the North. Or have you forgotten our ways so quickly?"

The guard cleared his throat, the sound like gravel underfoot. "There's more, my lady. He attempted to steal half the winter rations and one of our best horses. Caught him in the act, we did."

The man's sobs crescendoed. "You can't behead an innocent man!" he wailed, his voice cracking. "You and Lord Cregan, you'll be the death of House Stark! The North will remember this betrayal!"

Y/N stood motionless, but Jace saw the almost imperceptible tightening of her jaw, the slight tremor in her clenched fists. The room fell silent save for the man's ragged breathing and the soft hiss of the torches.

Her grip tightened on the hilt of her sword, her knuckles turning white as she struggled to keep her composure. Jace watched as Y/N stood motionless, her face a mask of stoic determination, but he could see the anger burning in her gaze.

"Send him to the Wall," Jace suggested, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through Y/N's chest. "It's a harsh sentence, yes, but one that allows him to redeem himself in service to the realm."

Y/N turned to him, her eyes unreadable in the dim light. "Or I could let him go," she mused, her voice barely above a whisper. "But then, what message would that send? That theft and betrayal go unpunished in the North?"

"Take his fingers, my lady," the guard interjected. "It's an old punishment, aye, but effective. He'd bear the mark of his crime, but keep his life and limbs... most of them, at least."

Y/N closed her eyes briefly, and in that moment, Jace saw the weight of the North resting on her shoulders. When she opened them again, they gleamed with resolve.

"You've given me much to consider," she said, her voice steady as the foundations of Winterfell itself. "I'll not make this decision in haste. Guard, take him to the cells. See that he's fed and given water. I'll pass judgment when the sun rises."

As the guard led the prisoner away, his pleas fading down the corridor, Y/N turned to Jace. The torchlight cast dancing shadows across her face, highlighting the sharp planes of her cheekbones and the weariness in her eyes.

Jace moved towards Y/N, his tall frame casting a shadow over her. She could feel the heat emanating from his body, a welcome warmth against the coldness that had nestled in her chest. He spoke gently, never breaking eye contact with her. "You carry your burden with grace, my lady," he murmured, his voice deep and soothing.

Y/N held his gaze for a moment, allowing herself to bask in the comfort of his words. But as quickly as it had come, the moment passed. She took a step back, "Grace," she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Grace is a luxury, Your Grace. In the North, we survive on harsher virtues."

Her eyes, once warm and inviting, now held a wintry gleam. The soft curves of her face seemed to harden, as if the very stone of Winterfell was seeping into her bones. With those words, Y/N turned away, her cloak swirling around her like a shroud. As she walked deeper into the shadows of Winterfell's halls, Jace was left with the unsettling feeling that he'd glimpsed not just the Lady of Winterfell, but a portent of the harsh days to come.

The torches guttered in a sudden draft, and for a moment, the corridor was plunged into darkness. When the light returned, Y/N was gone, leaving behind only the echo of her words and the lingering chill of premonition.

...

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basset-babe · 4 months

Text

five times: the third.

pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

warnings: cursing, drinking, anger, disgust, hurtful words, self-doubt / sabotage

word count: 5.1k+

a/n: honestly felt like i bit more off than i can chew but i do relish a challenge! also, my apologies for the prolonged delay of my postings, dearests. life has been life-ing recently lol anywho, here is the ever-challenging third! opening with a whistledown aND y'all know what we do when gossip arrives, we gossip! ciao amo! (dates included do not mean anything nor is accurate to any timeline)

five times series: the first. the one point five. the second. the third. the three point five. the fourth . at last.

trees and skies banner from @cottage-writings, pattern banner from @cafekitsune thank you!

Lady Whistledown's Society Papers

March 25, 18XX

Dearest readers,

The season is in full swing, and the social whirl is abuzz with the latest happenings. None have captured our collective curiosity quite like the endless stream of callers at the Y/L/N residence, all vying for the favor of the season's paragon, Miss Y/N Y/L/N. With suitors from the finest families presenting gifts and performances, it is no surprise that Miss Y/L/N has been the object of much admiration.

However, keen observers might have noted a particular favorite among the throng. Yes, dear readers, the second Bridgerton son, Mr. Benedict Bridgerton, has made a notable impression on the lovely Miss Y/N. Their promenades and conversations have not gone unnoticed, with many speculating that he holds a special place in her affections. However, as ever in the delicate dance of courtship, it is not without its complications.

Whispers have reached this author's ears that Mr. Bridgerton has been seen in the company of Lady Tilley Arnold—a widow of the late Lord Arnold and esteemed patroness of the sciences. Their encounters, whispered about in the most fashionable circles, suggest more than mere friendship.

Do hold your gasps, for the intrigue does not end there. No, for as Lady Arnold bid adieu to the shadows and prepared to depart, a most shocking revelation transpired. Witnesses, whose lips dare not speak aloud but whose eyes betray their secrets, observed a clandestine exchange between the widow and Mr. Bridgerton— a kiss, dear readers, of the most scandalous variety! The timing, dear readers, is most curious as Lady Arnold was on the verge of departing London, which only adds to the enigma of this nocturnal visit.

What, pray tell, does this clandestine encounter signify, one might wonder? Is there more to the attention of Mr. Bridgerton, that his affections may be wavering, or has Lady Arnold, with her enigmatic charm, ensnared him in her web of intrigue? Such a late-night rendezvous, particularly with a lady of Lady Arnold's standing, is certain to raise eyebrows and incite much speculation.

The ton will surely surmise whether this encounter was a fleeting indiscretion or the beginning of a more complicated entanglement. What could this mean for Mr. Bridgerton and Miss Y/N? Will their courtship withstand the weight of this scandal, or will it crumble under the pressure of whispered gossip and innuendo? Can Miss Y/N overlook this transgression and hold fast to her affection for Mr. Bridgerton, or will she be swayed by the lure of a less tarnished suitor?

One thing is certain, dear reader: the social season has become infinitely more intriguing with this latest development. Rest assured, I will be watching with keen interest as the drama unfolds.

Yours Truly,

Lady Whistledown

third time.

"Good afternoon, sister," Benedict greeted Eloise, who was standing in the middle of the house's foyer with her hands conspicuously behind her back.

"Ah! Brother, afternoon," Eloise replied cautiously, attempting to hide the gossip sheet behind her gown skirts. "Where were you?" she asked, her tone tinged with curiosity.

"Nowhere of particular interest. What are you reading?" Benedict inquired, his eyes narrowing as he pointed to her hidden arm.

"Nothing," Eloise replied hastily, but Benedict knew better. He raised an eyebrow and extended his hand, motioning for her to hand over whatever she was concealing.

Eloise hesitated for a moment, then reluctantly produced the crumpled gossip sheet from behind her back, placing it in Benedict's outstretched hand. "Whistledown," she muttered, avoiding his gaze. "You are mentioned."

Benedict unfolded the paper and began to read. His typically affable expression turning stoic as he saw his own name linked with both Miss Y/N and Lady Tilley Arnold. His jaw tightened, and he placed the scandal sheet on the table. Eloise cleared her throat and asked. "How are you?"

"Quite the scandal, it seems," he remarked, his tone betraying a hint of indifference. "And here I thought I could keep my affairs private. What truly vexes me is not the content concerning myself, it's how she drags in the names of Miss Y/N and Lady Arnold, implying something as if curious but ruinous as she almost did you last season. Heavens be damned, if I ever discover her true identity, I will ensure it is her life that is ruined."

"The lady has declined visits... for today, Sir. I ask... kindly, that you leave the premises," the lady's maid informed as Benedict sat astride his horse, a sketchpad clutched tightly in his hand.

His heart sank at the lady's maid's words, a heavy weight settling in the pit of his stomach. He had ridden with fervent determination, his thoughts consumed by the desire to see Y/N, to seek solace in her presence after the scandalous sheet had been released. But now, faced with the reality of her refusal, he felt an overwhelming sense of restlessness wash over him.

He had hoped to find refuge in her company this late afternoon, to find comfort in the warmth of her smile and the gentleness of her touch. Yet, it seemed that even she was now beyond his reach, her doors closed to him in the wake of the damning gossip that had tainted his name.

"Could you try again, please?" Benedict implored, desperation lacing his words. "I just need to speak to her, to explain myself."

But the maid remained resolute, her expression unyielding, her features softened by a touch of sympathy for Benedict's plight. "I'm sorry, Sir," she repeated, her voice a gentle murmur, "but the lady's wishes are clear. I cannot go against her instructions."

Feeling the weight of disappointment settle upon him like a heavy cloak, Benedict offered a resigned nod to the maid, acknowledging her adherence to propriety even as his heart ached with longing. With a heavy sigh, he turned away from the imposing facade of Y/N's residence, his footsteps heavy with the burden of unspoken words and unresolved emotions.

As he urged the horse forward, the rhythmic beat of hoofbeats echoed through the quiet streets of London, a steady cadence that mirrored the tumultuous thoughts racing through Benedict's mind. With each passing moment, he felt the weight of the recent scandal pressing down upon him, its suffocating grip tightening with each breath he took. People who walked the pathways murmuring as he passed them. Almost as if they'd point and had been meaning to ask of the truth in the latest Whistledown.

But Benedict was not one to be deterred by adversity, nor to allow his spirits to be dampened by the trials of the heart. With a determined set to his jaw and a fire burning in his eyes, he urged his horse onward, his destination clear in his mind.

Arriving at the gentlemen's club, Benedict dismounted his horse with practiced grace, the cool night air stirring the tendrils of his hair as he strode purposefully towards the grand entrance. The club stood as a bastion of camaraderie and respite amidst the chaos of London society, its hallowed halls a sanctuary for men of wit and refinement.

He'd rode to the club where his brothers were spending the early evening. The ambiance was one of refined indulgence, with the soft glow of candlelight casting a warm hue over the rich mahogany furnishings and plush velvet upholstery. He found Anthony and Colin lounging in a corner, their laughter echoing through the room like the lively notes of a well-played sonata.

"Well, if it isn't our solemn Benedict," Anthony teased, clapping him on the back as he approached. His voice carried the joviality of a man accustomed to commanding attention, resonating amidst the club's genteel chatter.

Benedict managed a half-hearted chuckle, sinking into a nearby chair. His usually composed demeanor was tinged with a hint of melancholy, though he tried to play off his turmoil with a forced smile that did little to mask the weight of his troubles.

Colin, with his mischievous blue eyes and rakish grin, raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "Drama? Pray, do tell. Have you found yourself embroiled in a scandalous Whistledown-written affair, dear brother?" His tone was light, yet there lingered a genuine curiosity, as if he relished the prospect of a juicy tale.

Benedict rolled his eyes, though a flicker of amusement danced in their depths. "Nothing so melodramatic, I assure you," he quipped, his voice a melodious baritone that resonated with the refined elegance befitting a man of his stature. "Just a bit of trouble with a certain someone who shall remain nameless."

Anthony leaned forward, his interest piqued like a hound on the scent of a tantalizing mystery. "Ah, a mystery woman! Do tell us more. Is she a diamond of the first water? A rose amongst thorns? A season's paragon?" His knowing words were infused with a playful charm, his aristocratic features softened by the warmth of his smile.

Benedict couldn't help but laugh at his brother's theatrics, the sound echoing through the room like the pealing of church bells on a crisp autumn morning. "More like a thorn stuck on my rose, if you ask me," he replied wryly, his lips quirking into a rueful smile. "But alas, the sheet seems to have taken interest in me. Thus, I've offended the lady at my latest misstep."

Colin exchanged a knowing glance with Anthony, their eyes sparkling with mischief like stars in the night sky. "Ah, love can be a treacherous game, my dear brother," he remarked with a wistful sigh, his voice tinged with the bittersweet nostalgia of past dalliances.

With a resigned sigh, Benedict brough out the paper, his fingers trembling ever so slightly as he unfolded it to reveal the damning headlines. His eyes scanned the page again, each word striking like a blow to his already wounded pride.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Anthony quipped, leaning in to peer over Benedict's shoulder with a devilish grin. "It seems our dear Benedict has captured the attention of Lady Whistledown herself. Tell me, is there any truth to this gossip?"

Benedict felt a flush of embarrassment creep up his neck as he struggled to find the words to explain himself, "There is a sliver of truth. Lady Arnold did visit, and yes, there was a kiss. But it was far from the scandalous affair Whistledown implies. We aren't anything but naught, I tell you." He answered at almost a whisper. Benedict knew that the contents of the scandal sheet would be the subject of much speculation and gossip, his reputation hanging precariously in the balance.

"And what of Miss Y/L/N, whom you are so ardently courting? How does she figure into this little drama?" Anthony asked, concerned of his brother's standing.

Benedict sighed, his concern evident as he expressed his worries to his brothers. "That is precisely my concern. I have been nothing but sincerity in my courtship of Miss Y/L/N. She deserves better than to be dragged into this mess."

Colin leaned forward, sensing the gravity of the situation. "So, what will you do? Surely you cannot let Whistledown's prattle jeopardize your relationship with Miss Y/N."

Benedict's expression phased into determination. "I intend to speak with Miss Y/N directly. She deserves to hear the truth from me, not the twisted version Whistledown has concocted. That if she allows an audience with me. And as for Lady Arnold, I shall ensure our interactions are far more circumspect if not, naught in all aspects she may bring up on me, when she does return and does whatever near."

Anthony nodded in agreement, his gaze softening with genuine affection as he clapped Benedict on the back. "Let us not dwell on the past now, brother, but instead focus on the future—on what you can do. Whatever Lady Whistledown may have to say, we shall weather the storm together, as we always have."

Colin, then, raised his glass, a gleam of mischief in his eyes as he played along with his brother's jest. "To no longer saving face, my dear Colin! For love, for honor, and for the sake of our brother's bruised ego!" His words were punctuated by a hearty laugh that resonated through the room like the rumble of thunder on a stormy night. This is going to be quite the arduous courtship.

The grand lobby of the Londinium Opera House was a scene of opulence and refinement, an exquisite embodiment of sophistication. As the setting sun cast a warm, golden glow through the tall, arched windows, the room seemed to shimmer with the promise of an enchanting evening ahead. The marble floors gleamed underfoot, polished to such perfection that they reflected the twinkling crystal chandeliers overhead. These chandeliers, with their countless prisms, scattered light like a thousand tiny stars, illuminating the elegant assembly below.

The air was a heady blend of perfumes and colognes, mingling with the faint, tantalizing scent of fresh flowers arranged in lavish bouquets atop mahogany tables. The flowers, a riot of colors and species, were chosen to reflect the season, adding a touch of nature’s beauty to the man-made splendor of the opera house.

"This is definitely too stuffy for my nose." Eloise brushed her finger by her nose as she and Benedict passed through a sea of dressed up ton amidst tonight's opera.

As the two navigated through the ton at the opera's lobby, their steps softened by the plush carpeting beneath them, Eloise couldn't help but wrinkle her nose discreetly once more. "I agree," Benedict murmured to Eloise, his voice barely audible over the gentle murmur of conversations and the distant strains of prelude music.

"It's like drowning in a sea of perfume and pomposity. How long will the show take?" Eloise asks.

Benedict chuckled softly, his eyes scanning the crowd with a bemused expression. "Indeed, it seems we've stumbled into a gathering of the city's most refined noses and airs. But I fear, it'd be almost four more hours but there must be a few souls yearning for a breath of fresh air."

Eloise grinned, her spirits lifting at Benedict's playful remark. "That'd probably be us, brother," she replied, her gaze sweeping the room in search of kindred spirits amidst the sea of finery. "But until then, I'd die of ennui from this whole bonanza of a show."

"Not if I escape it," Benedict remarked in jest as he wiggled his eyebrows at Eloise. "But, of course, I'm taking you with me."

"You are absolutely my favorite brother." And the two, laughing at their antics, sneaked out of the opera house where their carriage is waiting to flee the night.

The carriage ride through the moonlit streets of London was a serene affair, with only the rhythmic clip-clop of the horses' hooves and the soft creaking of the carriage wheels breaking the stillness of the night. Benedict sat in quiet contemplation, his gaze occasionally drifting to the window where the city's twinkling lights danced like distant stars against the dark canvas of the night sky. He had set upon to spend the night on the invite of a fellow painter, Lord Granville. The address card nestled in his pockets.

He knocked on the carriage roof and said, "We are to drop off Eloise at home first." Eloise shot her brother with a knowing look, "So, you do have plans for the night, Ben. Interesting." She nodded teasingly.

"What? Can't I spend my night on my own concurs?" He said, feigning defense on whatever his sister may be implying. The carriage stops and the footman opens the door. Eloise turns to her brother as she went down the carriage steps and says, "Amidst your Whistledown scrape, you seem to be taking this very light. Oh, to be a man this easy!"

Benedict shakes his head as he laughs at his sister's comment. He has been taking this all seriously, has he? It's not like he hasn't been doing amends. The gossip sheet only had been spread this morning. Surely, damages are still reversible? As the carriage turned out their street, Benedict's thoughts turned to the ramble of his mind. All his thoughts are loud of Y/N, her voice ringing in his head. He'd imagined their time in her garden. How she simply tells stories and facts of botany; or the time she'd nestled by the tree, her cheeks flushed with the lingering laughs they'd shared moments ago, and he couldn't help but smile at the thought of her. And as quickly as the smile drew on, it dissipated recalling that she had not allowed him audience this morning.

The carriage came to a gentle halt in front of a townhouse's doorstep, and Benedict stepped out onto the cobblestone path of 5th avenue, the cool night air washing over him like a soothing balm. He turned to the carriage driver, a silent acknowledgment passing between them before the driver urged the horses forward once more, disappearing into the darkness beyond.

Benedict delicately clutched the card bearing Lord Granville's prestigious name, ensuring he stood before the correct abode. With an air of refined assurance, he gently rapped the door knocker twice, whereupon Lord Granville himself promptly emerged to greet him.

Lord Granville, sporting a relaxed ensemble, greeted Benedict with a gracious nod, his demeanor exuding an aura of aristocratic charm. "Ah, Mr. Bridgerton, how delightful of you to join us," he intoned, his voice carrying a hint of cultured refinement. "Please, do come in. The evening promises to be most engaging."

With a gracious gesture, Lord Granville ushered Benedict into the dimly lit foyer, where the scent of beeswax candles mingled with the earthy aroma of oil paints. The sound of lively conversation and the occasional strumming of a lute drifted through the air, creating an atmosphere of artistic fervor.

As Benedict crossed the threshold, he felt a sense of excitement building within him, eager to immerse himself in the vibrant energy of the bohemian salon and the company of fellow artists and free spirits. Tonight promised to be a celebration of creativity and expression, a refuge from the stifling conventions of society, and Benedict couldn't wait to grasp his wash in of it.

The house was a riot of color and creativity, with tapestries adorned with vibrant hues lining the walls and eclectic artwork displayed on every available surface. Easels dotted the room, each showcasing works in progress, while clusters of artists and poets engaged in spirited discussions about philosophy, politics, and the latest artistic movements.

Benedict found himself swept up in the lively atmosphere, drawn to a group of painters huddled on their own canvases, their brushes dancing across the surface with frenetic energy. Where in the middle, nude women posed as muses and artist drew of their perspectives. Nearby, a poet recited verses of love and longing, his words weaving a tapestry of emotion that hung heavy in the air. Lord Granville now swept in his own circle.

In a secluded corner of the salon, hidden away from the prying eyes of the crowd, Benedict stumbled upon a private room adorned with tapestries of rich, jewel-toned hues and plush velvet cushions strewn about in haphazard arrangements. The flickering glow of candlelight cast dancing shadows across the walls, creating an atmosphere of intimacy and secrecy.

There, amidst the opulent surroundings, Benedict spotted Y/N, her laughter ringing out like a melody amidst the soft hum of conversation. She sat perched on a velvet chaise, a paintbrush in hand, her eyes alight with passion as she leaned over a canvas, her movements fluid and graceful.

Surrounded by fellow artists, including Lady Granville and Genevieve Delacroix, the ton's most favored seamstress, Y/N appeared completely at ease, her quick wit and sharp intellect evident as she engaged in spirited conversation, her laughter mingling with the clink of glasses and the rustle of paintbrushes.

As Benedict watched from the doorway, a pang of longing pierced his heart, the sight of Y/N's radiant smile and infectious energy stirring emotions he had long tried to suppress. He yearned to join her, to bask in her warmth and revel in the shared joy of creation, but the weight of their unresolved conflict hung heavy between them like a barrier, casting a shadow over their once vibrant connection.

Summoning his courage, Benedict stepped forward, his footsteps echoing softly against the polished floorboards. "Y/N," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, but before he could say another word, Lady Granville intercepted him, her gaze cold and calculating.

"Mr. Bridgerton," Madame Delacroix greeted with a disdainful tilt of her chin, her French slurred tone laced with thinly veiled contempt. "What brings you to our little gathering? Surely you don't expect to find yourself welcome here after what Whistledown's latest sheet has revealed."

Benedict's heart sank at the mention of Lady Whistledown's scandalous gossip, the weight of the accusations pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. "Y/N, please," he implored, his voice tinged with desperation, but Lady Granville merely raised an imperious eyebrow, her disdain palpable.

"Ladies, could you please give us the room," Y/N interjected firmly, her voice carrying a steely edge that brooked no argument. Madame Delacroix shot her a questioning look, to which the lady nodded reluctantly. With a series of subtle glances directed at Benedict, the women filed out of the room, their gazes lingering on him with thinly veiled curiosity.

As the door closed behind them, a heavy silence settled over the room, the air thick with tension and unspoken words. Y/N turned to face Benedict, her features hardened with a mixture of anger and hurt.

As Benedict and Y/N unexpectedly found themselves face to face amidst the opulent surroundings of the Granville party, the atmosphere seemed to crackle with tension, the air heavy with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions. Y/N's eyes, usually warm and inviting, now bore a glint of guarded skepticism as she regarded Benedict, her gaze piercing through the facade of polite decorum.

The room seemed to shrink around them, the murmurs of conversation fading into a distant hum as they stood locked in a silent standoff, each grappling with their own tumultuous thoughts and feelings. The flickering glow of candlelight cast eerie shadows across their features, adding to the sense of unease that hung between them like a tangible force.

"Benedict," Y/N's voice broke through the suffocating silence, her tone edged with a hint of surprise and resentment, "What brings you here? I didn't expect to see you at this gathering."

Benedict's features tightened with unease, his eyes darting nervously as he struggled to find the right words. The grandeur of the room seemed to mock his discomfort, its lavish decor serving as a stark reminder of the gaping divide that had grown between them.

"I...I could ask you the same," Benedict replied tentatively, his voice betraying his inner turmoil. The weight of Y/N's gaze bore down on him like a heavy burden, and he shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny.

Y/N's lips formed a thin line, a flicker of frustration flashing in her eyes as she absorbed Benedict's response. The tension between them crackled in the air, suffusing the room with an almost palpable energy as they stood locked in a silent standoff.

"I am here with friends," Y/N explained tersely, her tone tinged with defensiveness. "I didn't anticipate running into...you."

Benedict felt a pang of remorse at the coldness in her tone, the realization of the pain he had caused her weighing heavily on his conscience. The warmth of the room seemed to dissipate, leaving behind a chilling emptiness that mirrored the growing distance between them.

"Y/N," he implored, his tone tinged with worry. "There's something I need to ask you. Why did you deny me an audience earlier this morning? I sought you out, but I was turned away without explanation. Please, Y/N, I need to understand."

Y/N paused in her tracks, her hand hovering over the couch arm as she hesitated. The weight of Benedict's words hung heavy in the air between them, the tension palpable as they stood on the precipice of an unspoken truth.

Slowly, Y/N turned to face him, her expression guarded as she met his gaze with a mixture of sorrow and resignation. "I couldn't face anyone— even you, Benedict," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Not after... Whistledown that's happened. I needed time to gather my thoughts, to come to terms with the depth of my pain and my reputation."

Benedict's heart sank at her words, the realization of the pain he had caused her weighing heavily on his conscience. "Y/N, I had no idea," he murmured, his voice laced with regret. "If I had known, I would have respected your wishes. I never meant to add to your suffering."

"I know, Benedict," she firmly said, but her voice betraying her, tinged with sadness. "But some wounds run deeper than others, and time alone cannot heal them. I need space, time to find my own path forward."

"Y/N, please," Benedict pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation, "Let me explain. I never meant to—"

Y/N's eyes flashed with anger, her frustration boiling over as she confronted him with the pain he had caused. "Explain what, Benedict?" she demanded, her voice rising with each word. "Your absence? Your silence? Or perhaps the fact that I'm possibly nothing more than mere amusement to you, a prim and proper distraction from your rakish pursuits?"

Benedict recoiled at her words, the sting of her accusations piercing through his defenses like a dagger to his heart. "No, Y/N, you know that's not true," he protested, but she cut him off with a bitter laugh.

"Do I?" she spat, her voice dripping with contempt. "How can I be sure of anything when you've left me to face the whispers and the gossip alone? When you've abandoned me to doubt and humiliation?" Tears welled in Y/N's eyes as she spoke, the pain of betrayal etched deeply into her features.

Benedict felt the weight of her accusations like a sword to his heart, his chest tightening with the agony of her words. "Y/N, please, you must understand," he implored, his voice trembling with emotion. "I never intended for any of this to happen. My absence, my silence—it was never a reflection of how I feel about you. I've been grappling with my own inner turmoil, responsibilities and fears that have nothing to do with you."

Benedict's admission hung heavy in the air between them, his confession like a dagger to Y/N's heart. Her anger, fueled by betrayal and hurt, threatened to consume her as she struggled to process his words.

Y/N's eyes blazed with fury, her anger fueling her resolve as she confronted him head-on. "And what of the whispers about you and Lady Arnold?" she challenged, her voice dripping with scorn. "Are you telling me you had no part in fueling those rumors? That you never kissed her?"

Benedict recoiled at the accusation, the shame of his actions burning like a branding iron against his conscience. "No, Y/N, I swear it wasn't like that," he admitted, his voice laced with desperation. "There was a moment…" He paused, contemplating confession and it's consequences. He closed his eyes wincing at what he's about to say, "We did kiss, but it meant nothing. It was a mistake, a lapse in judgment that I deeply regret."

"A mistake?" she repeated incredulously, her voice tinged with disbelief. "A lapse in judgment? Do you expect me to believe that, Benedict? Do you expect me to simply forgive and forget?"

Benedict's eyes pleaded with her, his desperation palpable as he reached out to grasp her hand. "Y/N, please, I know I've made a terrible mistake," he implored, his voice trembling with remorse. "But I swear to you, it meant nothing. I assure you, it was inconsequential. You are the one I am committed to, the one I wish to be with. Lady Arnold made advances, and I rejected them. It was a momentary lapse in which I failed to uphold my commitment to you."

Y/N's shoulders slumped with the weight of Benedict's words, her resolve crumbling beneath the weight of his confession. She sank down onto a nearby chair, her breath hitching as tears welled in her eyes, cascading down her cheeks in silent rivulets. With trembling hands, she buried her face in her palms, the anguish of betrayal and heartache washing over her in relentless waves.

The room seemed to blur around her, the vibrant colors of the decor fading into a haze as she struggled to come to terms with the devastation of Benedict's admission. His words echoed in her mind, each syllable a painful reminder of the trust that had been shattered beyond repair.

How could she believe him? How could she trust that his words held any semblance of truth when his actions had spoken so loudly against him? The image of Benedict with Lady Arnold haunted her, a specter of doubt and uncertainty that threatened to consume her from within.

But amidst the turmoil of her emotions, a glimmer of resolve flickered deep within Y/N's heart. She may have been broken, battered by the storm of betrayal, but she refused to let Benedict's actions define her worth. With a steadying breath, she lifted her head, her tear-stained cheeks glistening in the soft glow of candlelight.

"I thought you were different, Benedict," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper, "But I... I don't know if I can forgive you. The pain you've caused runs deep, and I fear that trust may never be fully restored."

Benedict's heart shattered at the sight of Y/N's tears, his own anguish mirrored in her sorrowful expression. Without hesitation, he sank to his knees beside her, his hand reaching out tentatively to brush against her trembling shoulder.

"Y/N, please," he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. "I understand if you can't forgive me, if you can't find it in your heart to trust me again. But I swear to you, with every fiber of my being, I love you. I would give anything to make things right between us, to earn back your trust and your love."

His words hung in the air, a fragile plea borne of remorse and desperation. He longed to take her in his arms, to hold her close and shield her from the pain he had caused. But he knew that he had to respect her boundaries, to give her the space she needed to process her emotions and come to her own decision.

Y/N's shoulders trembled beneath his touch, her tears flowing unabated as she struggled to find the strength to meet his gaze. The weight of his words pressed down upon her, a bittersweet reminder of the love they had shared and the trust that had been so brutally betrayed.

For a moment, it seemed as though Y/N might succumb to Benedict's heartfelt plea. Her eyes softened, her resolve wavering in the face of his earnest confession. But then, with a trembling breath, she pulled away from his touch, her tears still glistening in the dim light of the room.

"I... I need some air," she choked out, her voice thick with emotion. Without another word, she stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor in a jarring echo of their fractured connection.

With a determined tilt of her chin, Y/N lifted the glass to her lips, downing the remaining contents in one swift motion. The bitter taste of the alcohol burned her throat, a sharp contrast to the ache in her heart as she turned away from Benedict, her steps heavy with the weight of her decision.

Benedict watched helplessly as she made her way to the door, his heart breaking with each retreating footfall. He longed to call out to her, to beg her to stay, but he knew that it was futile. The damage had been done, the rift between them too deep to bridge in a single moment of remorse.

As Y/N disappeared through the doorway, leaving him alone amidst the wreckage of their shattered relationship, Benedict felt a hollow emptiness settle in the pit of his stomach. He knew that he had lost her, perhaps forever, condemned to a lifetime of regret for the pain he had inflicted upon the woman he loved. And as he sank to the chair, his heart heavy with sorrow, he prayed for a chance at redemption, a glimmer of hope amidst the ruins of their once bright future.

taglist: @novausstuff // @pussyslayerhd // @amoosarte // @jupitervenusearthmars // @shonteriasunshine // @melsunshine // @bollzinurmouth // @kneelforloki

again, please do send me a message or comment down if you would like to be added on the succeeding taglists for the five times series! thanks loves <3!

#benedict bridgerton x you #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #x reader #fem reader #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton/reader #fic #bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton oneshot #fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x y/n

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getodrools · 7 months

Text

Your hand plowed through thick raven hair – the ends detangling at the sharp tug. Suguru kept his breath steady and gave you that level, dark-eyed gaze defensive players all over the league had learned to dread, “You just can't stay mad at me for too long huh.” His teeth are pearly white, and that lady killer grin irked the hell out of you.

“Oh shut up…” You giggle at the truth.

Tossing your head back as he nips along your collarbone, you whisper, “Y’know… you seriously didn't need to tackle Gojo so hard—you broke his nose and damn near fractured your skull!”

Getou shakes his head.

“He should keep his head in the game then. That sonavabitch’ had his nose all up in your skirt baby.” Your boyfriend grunted with that long drawl you always seem to shiver at.

Sighing, he hooks a finger around that very pitch black and purple sparkled skirt that had his team's logo shimmering on it. You nibble at your bottom lip, his touch was warm but…,

“Maybe ‘cause… I wasn't wearing any—!”, Should've known a linebacker like him was strong, “You what?!” Giggling and begging for his hands to give your hips freedom from their teasing pinches, Getou just needed to see this with his very own eyes.

You had to be teasing him.

Gojo was gazing in pure awe…

Though it was dark in the field, you could swear those hues held galaxies as they trekked down an expedition between your bodies. Shivering, his free hand flips the thin fabric over in certain desire. Free from a soft barrier, he catches sappy slick webbing lewdly between the heat of your legs.

His jaw tightens.

With the situation entirely worse now! It itched something in him fully knowing why Gojo was annoyingly closer to your squad than usual… your dirty little secret was more on his mind than Suguru coming at him full force—for something he thought else of—‘til he knocked them both breathless! Though the bones Getou got to crush ‘fairly’ during the match, it bugged at him—still and again, even now worse.

Getou’s nose curls up, you're so damn foolish sometimes! And he just can't seem to stay mad at you for too long either… you do feel warm against the pads of his hooking hands—!… All you knew was cheer! Kicking a leg up with a hoot and a holler made you smile. But damn you could still be so clueless even in that! Even wondering now if that cheap play to tackle him with a few strands of hair being pulled out after a dog pile was rubbing salt on the wound — as if Gojo knew he scored some way or the other, regardless of losing the game...

Sonavabitch’. Catching the glisten, he certainly would have to worry about that golden boy's pretty blue eyes rather than just a nosey snout now since you're cursed with the brain of a thoughtless puppy…

<– BACK: PINNED ౨ৎ NEXT: MORE GETOU –>

#bimbo reader in mind tbh 😞#🌐 𝐿𝒜𝒱𝐼𝐼 𝒲𝑅𝐼𝒯𝐸��!#ᝰ suguru geto!#yandere geto #jjk smut #geto smut #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk geto #jjk gojo #gojo smut #suguru geto #geto x reader #geto suguru #yandere #jjk yandere

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ru8yx · 4 months

Note

Secret lady Crown Prince Eshawr x reader? I don’t mind what kind of format you put it in.

CROWN PRINCE ESHAWR X READER!!

From the moment of her birth, her life had been predestined as a plaything for her family, and they bestowed upon her a name as sweet as the gentlest flowers and as passionately fiery as the wind.

As the first daughter of the Duke, every aspect of her future had been meticulously planned, shaped by the heavy weight of the family's expectations and ambitions.

Fate had woven a path she had little choice but to follow, each step leading her deeper into the intricate web of the ducal machinations.

Their destinies intertwined like a bittersweet thread, woven by the intricate hand of fate. The Crown Prince, with golden locks that danced in the sunlight and eyes the hue of molten gold, was her predestined match, chosen to be her future husband.

Under the watchful gaze of their families, she too was caught in the trap, as they bowed in introduction, their lives now inexorably linked by the constraints of their assigned roles. Like flies entrapped in a spider's web, their path forward was laid out before them, with no escape in sight.

She had endured a lifetime of lessons, honed to be the perfect future Empress, leaving no room for errors.

Her every waking moment was spent striving for flawlessness under the relentless scrutiny of demanding nobility. Everywhere she went, their greedy eyes tracked her every move, waiting to pounce at the slightest imperfection.

Despite the suffocating weight of expectations and the omnipresent gaze, she stood tall, unyielding in her regal bearing. She would always bear the title of Crown Princess, a symbol of both her lineage and the burden of her role in the tumultuous world of imperial politics.

Eshawr, the beloved Crown Prince, was exalted as the very life force of the empire, lavished with praise for simply existing.

To her, however, he was much more than that—he was her devoted husband, whose playful banter and steadfast presence provided both comfort and joy.

Despite the looming threat of his family's curse, which claimed the lives of partners of the royal family in tragic manners, Eshawr remained vigilant, standing guard through numerous sleepless nights to protect the one whom he had sworn to spend his life with.

Fate, though relentless, couldn’t dampen the love that burned within their entwined hearts.

The nobles painted a vivid picture of their love, likening it to a fairytale, with the princess embodying grace and beauty while the prince was the dashing savior protecting her from the ills of the world.

However, beneath the surface, cracks began to form, threatening to shatter the perfect facade. Problems emerged, revealing that nothing in life was ever truly flawless, reminding them that even the most enchanting fairytales could have unexpected twists and turns in the narrative of their love story.

She was known for her iron grip, unwavering and stoic, allowing no weakness or emotion to sully her image as the Crown Princess.

The nickname "Iron Grip Rose" had been bestowed upon her, symbolizing her unwavering strength and resilience.

She had endured countless trials without ever letting on the pain and suffering that gnawed at her from within. However, the tragic death of her beloved husband, the Crown Prince, left her broken and vulnerable, shattering the impenetrable façade she had nurtured so fiercely.

Plagued by the torment of losing her beloved husband, the woman spiraled into madness, descending deeper into despair with each passing day.

She refused to eat or drink, her body becoming frail and her once radiant eyes turning lifeless and dull. Driven to the brink, she pulled at her hair, howling like a wounded beast, feeling the weight of isolation and desolation, her heart shattered beyond repair.

The absence of her husband had torn away the light that illuminated her world, leaving only the suffocating darkness to consume her.

The whispers of the maids echoed in the grand halls, lamenting the transformation of the once-beloved princess into a tormented wraith.

They spoke of how sorrow had drained her vibrancy, how she appeared so lifeless and pain-stricken, murmuring unintelligible words as she rocked back and forth.

And all the while, her gaze remained fixated on a portrait of her and her beloved late husband, a time when they radiated in power and beauty, before fate wrenched his life away.

The descent into insanity reached its pinnacle as she vented her anguish on her surroundings, smashing even the most fragile of vases and leaving her hand bloodied from the shattered shards.

As tears streamed down her face, she saw her deceased husband before her, his teasing smile still haunting her. In her delusion, he beckoned to her from the balcony, his tall figure standing against the backdrop of the sky.

In a moment of desperation and despair, she gripped her dress and lunged toward him, only to be met with a fatal fall from her chamber’s window

❝ they say, if you stand underneath the balcony of princess [name] you could still hear her cries and screams of pain❞

HII THX SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING 🫶hope u enjoyed , (hope its not badly written ) and no happiness 💕🎀

#manhwa x reader #manhwa #secret lady #secret lady x reader #x reader #crown prince #crown princess #crown prince x reader #prince Eshawr

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melminli · 8 months

Text

Devil's Advocate II

pairing: hazbin hotel x fem. reader

summery - after you died, you didn't really find it surprising to end up in hell. though, what you did find quiet amusing was that your life down here sucked just a bit less than the one before.

word count: 1.5k

contains: cursing, strong language, sinner reader, violence, religious themes (obviously), sexual themes, demon horniness

part I

"So...ya and that pretty lady over there seemed to be pretty tight, if ya know what I mean." Angel Dust asked curiously, ready to hear some tea. He grinned as he tilted his head to the side flirtatiously. "She some ex of yours, or somethin' like that?"

Husker just looked at him with his usual grim look while he was cleaning a few glasses. Then his gaze briefly wandered away to your figure, who was forced to deal with the Radio Demon and the Princess of Hell. Yeah, you haven't really been successful in getting out of this hotel yet.

"None of your business." He said with his monotone voice and let Angel hang his head in disappointment. "...I'm far too sober for this shit."

A groan could be heard. "Oh, come on, ya grumpy cat! Don't leave me high and dry, I know there's some good story to be heard!"

Before Husker could leave him hanging one more time, a red demon manifested next to them, much to their surprise. "I would also like to hear this good story, if you wouldn't mind sharing it with us, my good friend!" Alastor expressed his interest and looked menacingly at the barkeeper for a few seconds to make it clear that he did not have the privilege of turning his request down.

Fuck you, Larry. This is all your fault. "...we go back a long way." He reluctantly shared the information. "She was obsessed with money back then too, so I saw her in the same casino as me sometimes. Though, she died a long time before me, so I've only really known her since I went to hell." He summarized as briefly as possible.

Angel Dust raised an eyebrow. "That's it?" He asked, a little disappointed, even though he hadn't expected the man in front of him to be a good storyteller. "How did she die?"

Cat eyes looked a little nervously at the two people in front of him, while he didn't make a sound. How unfortunate, Alastor thought to himself, and his sharp teeth showed as he understood the situation. "Looks like Husker isn't allowed to tell us this information. That's very interesting! Very interested indeed..." He laughed, and his creepy gaze shifted briefly to your figure. "Seems like we need to find out directly from the source."

The once Overlord looked over at Angel Dust with slight concern and saw how the spiders' eyes were also glancing towards your form. It wasn't that he didn't trust you, but demons as reckless as him fell into your trap like flies to a web. Besides, it wasn't like he was on your best side right now. "I'd be careful." He said to the crowd even though he didn't give a rat's ass about Alastor. "She's not known for making packs with demons left and right for nothing, and I can assure you there's not the slightest chance of escaping from her contracts once you're in it." He said and added. "That's the price for holding up her end of the deal without any sneaky tricks, I suppose."

Well, that sounded unusual. After all, it was normal that one Demon after another stabbed the other in the back, there was no such thing as trusting the other person's word. But maybe that was why you were so popular. "Calm down, I'm not gonna sell my soul to her." Angel laughed. I couldn't even if I wanted to.

Husker placed another clean glass on the counter. "It doesn't have to be your soul. She'll find something she wants from you, and she's good with her mouth, so you'll give it to her. They all do in the end." He said and reached for a bottle of whiskey, ignoring the two incredulous looks he received. He took a sip and was initially confused as to what was going on with the two until he realized what he had said and choked on his drink. "Words! I meant to say words, damn it." He corrected himself.

Alastor didn't blink for a few seconds, and Angel, on the other side, just laughed amusedly. Maybe he wasn't so wrong with his first guess, after all. "Of course ya were."

"Well, thank you for your kind hospitality, but I'm afraid that I'll be taking my leave now." You spoke to the two girls. As much as Charlie regretted it, she couldn't convince you to spend a few nights at the Hazbin Hotel. Apart from the fact that she would have had a new guest, it might have enhanced the hotel's reputation if someone as renowned as you had visited. Though, unfortunately that didn't work out.

I've messed up again. Charlie tried not to look too depressed, even though she really was an open book. "Oh, all right. Thanks for listening to me."

You smiled while rubbing her shoulder. "Of course, darling." You replied, but that didn't really seem to cheer her up. You couldn't help but be a little gentler with her, she had a good heart for a hell born. "Let's make a deal." You suggested to her as an idea popped into your head.

Right after the sentence came out of your mouth, Vaggie narrowed her eyes and stepped protectively in front of her girlfriend. "Charlie doesn't make deals with demons like you." She said protectively, and you leaned closer to her at what she said. Your pupils narrowed to slits and two more eyes opened menacingly on your face. "What do you mean with demons like me, little lady, hm?" You asked her as the light in the room began to flicker, and you saw her continue to stand her ground, even though you could smell the slight fear emanating from her.

You pulled back again and returned to your normal self. "I'm just kidding, I know I'm a greedy bitch." You laughed out and saw how Vaggies eye twitch in irritation while Charlie laughed along a little uncomfortably. "Well, even though I wouldn't mind making an official deal with the little princess, I was thinking more of a friendly kind of deal." You suggested. "I'll put in a good word if the subject of your hotel comes up with anyone I know, and in return, I'd just like to ask you for a teeny tiny favor."

That didn't sound so bad. It would be good for their image if someone like you would spread a few good things about the hotel. Before Charlie could agree, Vaggie straddled back in. "And what does this favor involve?"

You conjured up a collar with a bell and an old Poloroid camera with a snap of your fingers. "Make Husk wear this and take lots of photos of it. Preferably of the process too, 'cause I'm working on some thank you cards for my company." You say and put the two things in her hands. You then remembered something. "Oh! And give this to him too." You added and handed Charlie a piece of paper. "That bastard owes me sixty thousand dollars 'cause of that Berry guy, or whatever his name was."

You were about to turn around and walk to the door when you met two red eyes right in front of you. "Leaving us so soon, what a shame." Said the Radio Demon with a smile as you took a step back so that you were no longer face to face. "Your presence turned out to be quite entertaining, I too had secretly hoped that you would give our great hotel a chance." He announced, pointing his funny stick at you.

You pushed it aside with your finger. "Well, thank you, Blossom, but I'm afraid my presence is in demand at other places." You pronounced not very regretfully.

He raised an eyebrow and would find your nicknames more amusing if he'd understood the reference. "And where would that be?"

You looked neutral. "I actually have a massage appointment at six. See you then." You said goodbye and went away with a poof after you clapped with your hands.

A few seconds of silence passed after you disappeared, and Vaggie looked at the objects in her hands again, a little questioningly. "So, what's the best way to go about this?" She asked Charlie, who was already looking thoughtfully at the bar. "Let's ask him first. Maybe he's in a good mood."

Vaggie looked at the man in question and saw him drinking a large bottle of alcohol before throwing it in the back to get his hands on another one. "Sweetie, do you know Husk?"

#hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel fanfiction #vivziepop #alastor the radio demon #alastor #alastor x reader #fanfic #hazbin imagine #x reader #x you #x female y/n #x female reader

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sunflowerwinds · 1 year

Text

all in a day’s work [h.c]

summary: being spider-woman is going pretty well for hazel. that is until you notice these cuts and bruises appearing on her skin. she’s just a little clumsy, though, right?

pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader

contains: mature language and content, shower sex (very little detail), spider!hazel, mentions of hazel’s transformation since becoming spider-woman, slight violence, cannabis mention, mentions of the avengers events, josie is hazel’s guy in the chair.

word count: 4.4K

a/n: it’s here. i’m beyond excited for you guys to read this short series. it’s going to be a four parter, uploading each part every week for the month of october. thank you and enjoy <3

one | two | three | four

Hazel hated criminals.

The ones who stole purses from innocent old ladies who were just trying to buy groceries. The ones who harass and assault women for rejecting them. Or in this special Brooklyn norm, a guy who had hotwired a BMW who was now involved in a high speed chase with four cop cars and a special hero following him.

Normally, she would be more than pleased to arrive at the scene. On any other day, she wouldn’t have promised to meet her girlfriend — sweet and patient you — at the bodega that your uncle owned. But some dumbass just had to hotwire a car when she had to meet you in an hour.

Hazel swung in between buildings, following the sirens of the police cars and the map inside of her mask, her eyes darting from car to car to find the one that was described. A dark purple BMW speeding down Tillary Street, turning down Gold Street. Once she had spotted the vehicle, she launched herself faster in the vicinity before landing on a U-Haul truck that was a few cars behind the BMW.

This guy was swerving and weaving through cars like a maniac as Brooklyn’s finest were hot on his trail. Hazel shook her hands out as a nerve-releaser, her gloved hands stretching in and out. She then sprinted across the top of the truck before launching a web at a tall building to maneuver her way onto the back of the BMW.

The breeze felt nice, though, after swinging around for so long. Her hands were gripping onto the sides of the vehicle to keep her balance.

“Excuse me, sir!” She tapped on the back window, waving a hand to get his attention.

The man’s eyes flickered to his rear-view mirror, eyes visibly widening at the sight of Spider-Woman hanging from the back of the stolen car. His response was to step on the gas. Hazel groaned as her lower stomach thumped onto the trunk, but quickly regained her posture as she hoisted herself onto her feet.

“Incoming text from honey with the white heart emoji and bee emoji,” Karen told Hazel, her Siri-like voice echoing in her ears. “Are we still on for sandwiches, babe? Semi-colon. Parenthesis.”

Hazel smiled at the message from you as she crawled to the top of the vehicle, mentally pumping her fist at the sight of the sunroof. The man had left it wide open. So he was an idiot in many ways. Hazel slipped in quickly, her bottom landing in the backseat. She’d tell Karen to reply as soon as she finishes with this nuisance.

“C’mon, dude, high-speed chase? What? Was stealing an old lady’s purse too cliche?” Hazel quipped with a cheeky attitude.

The man didn’t say a word but instead attempted to throw a punch in the backseat, letting out grunts of annoyance. Hazel blocked every swing with a sigh, wondering why the hell he was even trying.

“You know, you’d punch way better if you weren’t driving, sir.”

As the man continued to speed between cars, Hazel stares up ahead to see an empty alleyway in an upcoming street. She needed to get him off of the street so that innocent people wouldn’t be in the way of danger.

Hazel shoots a web at the man's eyes. He grunts at the sticky feeling and temporary blindness, releasing the wheel entirely. Hazel reaches over from the backseat, hands gripping onto the wheel to turn sharply into the deserted alley. She mutters a string of curses as the side of the car scrapes against the brick building.

She’ll tell Mr. Stark about billing that to the owner later.

Cars honked and came to a sudden halt at her illegal moves but the car was now in the alley, away from the public. She releases the wheel to quickly crawl out of the open sun-roof. Mid-way out, she feels the glass begin to close on her torso.

Hazel groans out at the squeezing pressure and looks down into the car to see that the man had hit the sunroof button on the roof of the interior. One of his hands gripped onto her spandex covered calf, trying to tug her back down.

“I have a girlfriend, dude. Let go,” Hazel grunted, wriggling in his grasp.

Hazel threw her foot back into his chest and jaw before jumping up and out of the car. She landed on a metal fire escape balcony. From that distance, she shot multiple webs at the end of the alleyway, creating a makeshift trap for the car to run into. Her wrists were beginning to ache but she kept her movements flowing, releasing the web as he was reaching the end. The car hit the large web with a loud thump but had stopped, which is what Hazel was aiming for.

The thief had stepped out of the car and began to book it.

“Karen, send a text back to honey reading,” Hazel stood on the fire escape and walked on the side of the building as she aimed a web at the man. The substance wrapped around his legs causing him to trip and hit the ground. “Of course. See you soon. With two x’s and o’s.”

“I am sending the text to honey.” Karen alerted Hazel to her mask.

Hazel swung over to land right next to the criminal's head, tilting her body to the side to grin at his scraped up face. She knew he couldn’t see her shit-eating grin but it brought her some sort of badass feeling. Like an ‘I-just-did-that-shit’ feeling.

“The cops will take care of you so if you’ll excuse me,” she shot her web around his wrist to keep him down and held them behind his back. “I have to see my girl.”

The man grunted loudly to which Hazel responded with a: “Bye, Mr. Criminal!” as she launches herself out of the alley and around the corner of the building.

You were browsing the shelf of snacks and candies in your uncle’s bodega. You had just gotten off your shift at the Build-A-Bear in the mall and you were absolutely starving. The array of chips and gummies made your stomach grumble, sighing as you were waiting patiently for Hazel to arrive.

Her Stark internship had consumed a lot of her time lately. Of course, you were incredibly happy and proud of her to be working under Tony Stark: a billionaire industrialist, inventor, and the Iron-Man.

You didn’t mean to seem clingy, but you missed her when she was gone.

“Bee, here you go.” You hear a voice coming from behind the counter.

There stood your uncle with your turkey club sandwich wrapped — no tomatoes. You let out a groan of relief as you walked up to the counter to take it from him. You reach into your tote to grab a five dollar bill.

“Bee, you’re not paying.” He began to walk around to avoid you giving him cash.

“Uncle Karter, take it now. I’ll hop over this counter and shove into the register,” your threat was playful, but you meant every word.

“You’re hungry so I’m giving you food. It’s just like having lunch at home.” Your uncle insisted as he pointed at you, resting his arms on the glass display of the different kinds of sandwiches and deli meat he had to offer.

You sigh, giving him a wary look. Yes, he was your uncle, but you felt guilty just being handed sandwiches that you could easily pay for. You have a job. Your uncle wouldn’t let you pay, though, so you reluctantly slip the dollar bill into your bag.

“Thank you,” you give him a small smile before taking a bite of the fresh sandwich.

“It’s nothing, kiddo.” The man shakes his head as his eyes flicker behind him at the front door. The bell rings and he jerks his head to whoever was walking in. “Your little girlfriend is here.”

You whip your head around mid-bite to see Hazel panting as if she had run here with a wide, charming smile. Her hands were holding something behind her back as she approached you happily with her brown broken-in leather backpack over one shoulder, her keys that were clasped onto a loop of her jeans jangling loudly.

“Hey,” she breathes out, her gaze flickering between both of your eyes. Hazel raises her hand to wave at your uncle. “Hi, sir.”

“Hazel, I told you to call me Karter. None of that ‘sir’ shit, dude. I’m 36, not 50.” Your uncle replied teasingly, causing you to chuckle. Hazel nodded, muttering a ‘right’. Her eyes locked with yours as your uncle began to attend to the other customers.

“How was it today?” You tilt your head as you take another bite of your sandwich.

Hazel shrugged her shoulders, scoffing out. “Boring science shit but it was good. New scientist named Dr. Connors that Mr. Stark introduced me to.”

You deadpan at her, nodding your head. Sure, the subject wasn’t your favorite but you always wanted to hear about Hazel’s day. You brushed off the short response as you swallow that bite of your sandwich.

“Okay, well, that’s good. What are you hiding?” You try to peer over her shoulder but she only leans to the same side as you.

“Grabbed something for you on the way here.” Hazel beams as she pulls out the present from behind her back.

It was a small bouquet of an array of flowers for this time of the year. It was fall in New York, so the array of white roses and yellow sunflowers brightened up your mood. Forest Hills blossomed during the chilly season; a beautiful orange hue washed over the neighborhood in Queens as the decaying leaves fell from the tree branches.

Your eyes softened at the simple yet sweet gesture. Hazel grinned awkwardly, hoping you loved them.

Ever since you two had started dating half a year ago, Hazel has always felt like she had to be the best girlfriend she could. You were her first girlfriend and she was absolutely crazy about you, as you were about her.

Other people haven’t been the kindest to you and she knew that. Lying and cheating were a main factor as you’ve told her.

The guilt ached in her chest everyday having to lie to you about being Spider-Woman. You were her entire world. Tony insisted it was for the best if she didn’t want anything to happen to you.

“You are too sweet, I swear. Thank you, baby,” you lean in close to kiss her lips quickly and take the bouquet in your free hand.

Hazel flushed so easily, making your smile widen. It was a good feeling to see after so many months that she still got flustered when you kissed her.

“It’s nothing. You deserve it.” Hazel replied as if it was something you should know.

You don’t respond to that, only blushing like Hazel was moments ago. You sniff the soft flowery scent for a moment before taking another bite of your sandwich.

“You wanna head to mine?” You offer with a flirty smile.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Hazel nodded, eyes warily darting to your uncle who was occupied with his line of customers that appeared out of the blue.

“He’ll be here for hours. C’mon,” you loop your arm around hers. “Bye, Uncle Karter. See you later.”

Your uncle simply waves his hand mid-conversation with the middle aged woman in front of him. Hazel leaned into your touch for a second before letting herself get dragged out of the bodega by you.

A fresh autumn breeze brushed against her, hitting her pale skin. You leaned your head on her shoulder as you talked about all the adorable children that had come into the Build-A-Bear.

Hazel loved these small moments with you. Well, she loved every moment but little things like this clouded her brain when she wasn’t focused on keeping her identity a secret. Watching your eyes light up when you spoke about how happy these children looked when you handed them their bear made her heart grow tenfold.

When the two of you had arrived at you and your uncle's apartment, you reached into your bag to grab the house keys.

“You hungry?” You ask as your sliding the key into the slot.

Hazel shook her head, placing a hand over her stomach. “I’m okay. Thank you, though, honey.”

You place a gentle kiss at her cheek as if to tell her that you asked her questions like that to show that you cared. You frowned, though, as you noticed a bruise and cut on her top lip that you hadn’t really seen before.

Hazel noticed you paused and furrowed her brows.

“What is it?” She whipped her head around to see if there were any potential threats. She was tempted to check her watch that Tony had given her to get Karen to scan the area.

“Babe, did you hit your lip?” You raised a hand to graze over the reddening area.

Hazel’s eyes widened once she realized what you were talking about. Earlier this morning, Hazel had a guy hit the butt of his gun at her face when she had dealt with a smoke shop robbery. She actually got free weed from the guy working the register which she plans to give to PJ.

“Oh, yeah. May was opening a cabinet up top and it hit me straight in the lip. I kind of forgot about it.” Hazel easily lied through her teeth, letting you caress the outline of her lips.

“It doesn’t hurt, right?” You ask her softly, eyes flickering up to her freckled under eyes.

Hazel shook her head with a hum, her smile growing as she admired your worried features. You looked away with a flushed grin as you pushed open the front door. The faint aroma of pumpkin and cinnamon filled Hazel’s nose, warmth filling her chest.

It wasn’t the largest apartment but it was home to you. You and uncle didn’t need much more than this.

“How is May?” You asked as you hung your keys on one of the Smurfs wall mounted key hooks that you had found at a thrift store.

“She’s good. Working at the hospital right now so she’s hoping that‘ll pay well.” Hazel explains as she traces the knick knacks on the shelf’s in the living room.

You can’t help but smile at the thought of Hazel’s Aunt May. She really was one of the kindest women you’ve ever met. May had a tendency to call you her ‘future daughter in law’ in front of Hazel just to tease the girl, watching her cheeks and tips of her ears flush a deep red.

“That’s good. I don’t want her overworking herself, though.” You sigh as you set your bag down next to the arm of the couch.

“Yeah, me neither.” Hazel sighed. “So, what did you wanna do?”

You hum in thought, bringing your single braid from behind your head to over your shoulder. You began to untangle the twisted hair as you thought about what activities you and Hazel could do now that she was free.

A certain idea came to mind.

“Well, I do need to shower so,” you say nonchalantly, hoping Hazel would get the hint.

“Oh, okay. Yeah, I can wait out here. Take your time, honey.” Hazel nodded and went over to take a seat on the couch.

You stared at her grabbing the remote for the TV, turning it on and flicking through the channels. You release your hair to allow it to sit on your shoulders, waiting patiently for Hazel to realize.

“Oh, do you wanna watch Foot Loose when you get out of the shower?” Hazel’s gaze floated back to you.

Her excitement to watch the movie dropped when she noticed you tilting your head and looking at her like that. You had only given her that look when you were insinuating something sensual. Your body was swaying back and forth as your smile grew when she set down the remote.

“Sorry. I didn’t— I thought you meant by yourself.” Hazel rushed out as she turned off the TV, chuckling nervously.

“At first, yeah. But, hey, we’re conserving water if we shower together and you know I’m all about keeping the Earth green.”

Hazel couldn’t help but nod, standing up to walk up to you. “That— yeah. That’s true. Conserving water conserves energy that reduces greenhouse gas pollution.”

Her brain shouldn’t have turned you on as much as it did.

“Yeah? What else does it do?” Your fingers hook onto her belt loops, tugging her closer into your body.

Hazel allowed you to manhandle her as she would truthfully let you do anything to her. She knew how much her ability to retain and cite facts turned you on. It was obvious by how you were drinking her in like you could devour her.

“It can… oh, protect aquatic life and extend water supply to areas that lack and ensure agricultural production to thrive.” Hazel rambled out, her flush growing as your thumbs brushed past her hip bone.

“Oh, those poor sea creatures.” You frown, smacking your lips.

“Don’t you need to shower?” Hazel asked, suddenly overwhelmed with impatience.

Your smile only grew, a giggle falling from your lips. You intertwine your hands with Hazel’s as you hurriedly walk over to your small bathroom. Hazel made sure to remove her watch and set it down on the porcelain sink, not wanting any sort of message from Tony to interrupt her time with you.

You turn to shut the door and turn the lock with a ‘click’. Hazel is caught off guard by you removing your work shirt, blushing at the sight of you in your bra. She felt like such a virgin. She’s seen you naked at this point and still was a flustered mess around you.

“Can’t take a shower with clothes, Haze.” You raised your brows as you were unbuttoning your pants.

“Maybe I can. I can do laundry that way.” Hazel quipped back with a chuckle.

Nonetheless, she began to slip off her sweater. You walk over to her, hooking your fingers underneath the thick fabric to help her. Her sports bra came into view as you tugged the sweater up and off, tossing it onto the blue and white tiled ground.

You both messily kissed, clanking teeth from how rushed your movements were. Soft laughter released from you as you removed the rest of your clothing and underwear, Hazel following by copying your actions.

Hazel hoisted you up with ease by your plush thighs, causing you to let out a yelp at the sudden movement. You lazily kissed her jaw as you held onto her neck, listening to her soft hums as she stepped into the shower. You never understood how all of a sudden, Hazel had this strength and toned body. You’d never seen her hit the gym once since you’ve been together.

Not that you were complaining. Just confused.

“Alright, let me down,” you hum against her skin, “I really do have to shower.”

“I’ll, uh, help.” Hazel offered as she released her grasp from your thighs, carefully watching you step onto the tiled ground.

You simply give her a soft kiss, whispering a ‘thank you’ onto her lips. Hazel hums back before grabbing the hydrating shampoo from the shelf. You turned on the shower, letting out a soft ‘fuck’ at the cold water. You hurriedly turn the knob to the red ‘H’ symbol, leaning back into Hazel’s body.

Once the stream of water began to heat up, Hazel squirted out the correct amount of shampoo into her palms. She massaged the product to your scalp as you tilt your head back with a sigh. Her fingers work into your scalp, sending you into a domestic bliss.

“That feels so good.” You practically moan as Hazel continues with the shampooing.

Hazel chuckles with a blush, leaning down to press a gentle kiss onto your naked shoulder. Your mind practically turns to mush but you force yourself to continue the rest of your routine.

You and Hazel bathed each other after a few heated kisses. That’s all. (You had gone down on her and she fingered you until you came twice.) She had told you how much you resembled a beautiful Renaissance painting with every curve and dip of your body. The words squeezed at your heart, feeling yourself fall more and more in love with her — if that was even possible.

Now freshly bathed and spent from the day, you and Hazel settle down, remaining in just underwear with an oversized tee. The sun had been long gone — the only light source being the city lights from outside of your bedroom window. You were cuddled up in your bed on your sides Hazel was running one hand up and down the fresh and lotion-covered skin of your arm as you twirled her wet hair around your fingers.

“I wanna stay here forever.” You yawn and rub at your bare face.

“Yeah?” Hazel hummed.

You nod with a chuckle. “Oh, yeah. If I didn’t have to work or worry about stuff like the apocalypse and aliens taking over, I would stay here forever.”

“Aliens?” Hazel’s brows arched at your words, chuckling along with you.

“Well, I mean, you saw what happened with Avengers in the city a few years ago. That was terrifying, you know?” You mutter, zoning out as the memory flooded back into your mind.

You had been just a few streets down when Loki had sent an army of aliens down onto the city. Who knows what could’ve happened if you had been just one more street closer to the destruction.

Hazel only nodded because how can you forget an event like that? Lives were lost and changed forever. Hazel, at the time, was just like you; a normal girl in the city just trying to live day by day. She wasn’t able to save people as she could now.

“Let’s just… lay here a-and not think about that, honey. Okay?” Hazel whispered as she tried to reassure you while reassuring her own scattered mind.

“Okay. I’m sorry.” You whispered back with a self-deprecating chuckle as you felt that you had ruined the mood.

Hazel shook her head as she moved her hand from caressing your arm to cupping your bare cheek.

“No, no, no, it’s okay. I just don’t want you to worry about all that stuff that hasn’t happened.”

Hypocrite, Hazel’s mind echoed after she had continued to utter soft and kind words to you. That’s all she ever did. Worrying about the unknown or stuff she couldn't control.

You ultimately felt your worries fade for the time being. Hazel caresses the length of your back until your heavy eyes shut, allowing sleep to take over. Not too long after Hazel knew that you were sound asleep, she did the same.

Hazel was awakened by the sound of a loud alarm echoing throughout the space of the room. She had shot up quickly from the bed, looking down at her watch to see it was a call from Josie — her only friend from Stark Industries.

Hazel checked the time to see it was 7:04 in the morning; way too early to be calling her. She glanced at you tangled up in your bed sheets next to her, mouth slightly hung open as you were knocked out. She carefully got up from the mattress, trodding over to the bathroom to get some privacy.

Hazel groaned at her reflection, her hair a tousled mess and her shirt half-way off of her shoulders. She reluctantly answered the call on the watch, squinting her eyes as Josie came into view.

“Hi Hazel!” Her cheery voice threw her off guard.

“It’s seven in the morning, Josie.” Hazel grumbled, trying to fix her hair.

“That didn't sound like a ‘oh, good morning, Josie’ so I’ll pretend you said that.” Josie quipped back, adjusting herself in her cubicle. “Anyways, Mr. Stark told me to call you because he needs you here, like, immediately.”

Hazel’s eyes shot open. “Wait really?”

Josie hums as she types something on her laptop that was lighting up her screen. “He said in his email, and i quote: ‘call Underoos and get her here immediately. No’ and this is in all caps ‘questions’.”

Hazel rolled her eyes at the nickname. Within the first few days of working under Tony, the nickname came to mind and never left. As much as she wanted to stay in bed with you, she knew she had to see whatever Tony needed her there for. She scrunched up her nose and yawned, nodding and scratching the back of her head.

“I’ll be there soon. Probably 10-20 minutes.” Hazel stretches her free arm, releasing some tension in her biceps and upper back.

“Alright, cool. Oh, wait,” Josie muttered as she stopped typing on her keyboard, leaning back into her roller chair. “Ah, shit. Son of a bitch, dude.”

“What?” Hazel responded as she was about to leave the bathroom so she could hang up.

“No, nothing. I lost at Solitaire against Happy.” Josie shook her head, groaning before typing again on the laptop.

Hazel furrowed her brows before hanging up with a: ‘See you soon’. The last thing she heard was Josie angrily typing as she whispered: ‘Filthy cheater’.

Josie took Solitaire extremely personally.

Hazel slowly crept out of the bathroom as she had forgotten that your Uncle Karter was now home, if not, awake. She tiptoed back into your room, grabbing her bag from the small carpet strawberry right next to your bed. You had adjusted once again in your sleep, snuggling into the plush of your pillow.

You were a fidgety sleeper but she found it adorable. Watching over you right now almost made her stay but she couldn't risk Tony being angry with her. She quickly changed into her suit, walking over to your window to unlock it and crack it open.

Taking one more glance at your unconscious body, Hazel tugged her mask over her face before she shot a web out of the window at a building across the street. She threw her bag over her shoulder as she swung to the apartment building next door all the way to the Stark Tower.

Mid-way there, she suddenly remembered that she didn’t leave a note for you like she usually would when she left so suddenly. She brushed it off and told herself she’d send you a text as soon as she left.

Nothing to worry about.

Right?

taglist: @imjustapearl @seethesin @matchamilkislover @beabeebrie @curiousshifter101 @uraesthete @fictionalcharacterspecialist @c4llahansgirl @maggiecc @fruitysnackysmain @crvptidgf <33

#hazel callahan #bottoms movie #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms 2023 #ruby cruz #hazel callahan x you #spider hazel #spider woman #hazel callahan fic

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heeseungiez · 14 days

Text

RESOLUTION 4) maybe get a boyfriend?

pairings! park sunghoon x fem!reader x park jay x sim jake x lee heeseung

synopsis! park sunghoon always preferred admiring you from afar. because to him, you were untouchable. as the daughter of his career’s biggest sponsor, he was scared that the smallest slight upon your person could make your father withdraw. but you were not the fragile pretty flower sunghoon thought you to be. it was only his luck that you ran right into his arms when you didn’t know what to do about the rest of his friends.

content warnings! smut (mdni! 18+), swearing, angst (i tried), fluff, unprotected sex, public sex, everyone is a loser, polyamory, ...

word count! ~15k

a/n! i've never been very good at writing endings... </3 but thank you guys so much for reading !!! i've seen everyone rooting for jake, but uhh... i've had a bit of a different idea for the endgame "relationship" from the very start

currently playing . . . good so bad by zerobaseone

masterlist

Good morning, Decelis!

The first term is almost over, and I’m really glad all the tea is piping hot to keep us warm through the winter.

XO, Miss Decelis

It was time.

The conversation the four boys feared had to be had. Especially when Heeseung kept trying to corner you in the school’s hallways while you pretended he didn’t exist, and Jake could not keep his hands off you with overly excessive PDA. Jay was your friend, but he kept looking for you in any room he entered, the single night you spent together still playing in his mind and haunting his dreams because that was all he got — he was nothing but a casual fuck to you, one and done, and it was still all his fault.

Sunghoon had been observing his friends for a while. He could see all of them become more pathetic as time went on. But it was natural, when you began hanging out with them, and neither Heeseung or Jay cursed you out for it — instead, they sought your presence.

The thing was, Sunghoon had most of his information from Jake since Heeseung and Jay kept mostly quiet. But he knew basically everything, the filthy details beyond Miss Decelis gossip. You shared everything with Jake. Despite not being in a relationship, you were honest with him about all the things that went on in your life. So it was a known fact to them that you slept with Jay. That Heeseung was still trying.

And Sunghoon wanted to laugh, remembering their silly promise that was now being stomped upon as if it never happened because his friends were idiots.

Not to mention those dumb as hell rules they had around you when they were freshmen. Jesus Christ.

They were idiots who were always obsessed with you.

But Sunghoon understood why. Way before he met them, he knew the charm you had was enchanting. Like a lady spider creating a thin yet durable web around them, meant to ensnare and never let go.

This was you.

Not a random girl the four of them met at parties and hooked up with (at different times, obviously). You had been in their lives for years.

Sunghoon had known you since he was twelve, probably. He didn’t remember the exact date when he met you, but you were both children back then. You were taller than him back then, too, if he remembered correctly. He was a figure skating prodigy, and you were the daughter who had to tag along because there was nobody to look after you on the weekends.

You had an ability to make Sunghoon not feel alone whenever he saw you back then. You always played around with him while other kids were apprehensive. You also didn’t see him as competition, so being his friend was normal.

Then your father applied him to Decelis Academy for high school with a letter of recommendation, adding that he would cover any expenses necessary for Sunghoon’s studies while the school would have a national champion as its representative. Which was how you ended up introducing him to Heeseung, Jay and Jake.

Even though you didn’t speak to them and they mainly ignored you, you made sure to bring Sunghoon to them on your tour. You greeted Jake amiably enough and then you introduced Sunghoon saying that you thought they’d get along well.

And they did.

Especially Sunghoon and Jake. They clicked instantly.

You were the force that connected them, and now you had enough power to pull them apart as well.

So they really needed to talk.

Well, not Sunghoon, not really anyway, but he was convinced it was the better thing for them all.

So when Sunghoon finally got to the boys’ favourite hangout spot after figure skating practice, he clasped his hands together.

“Y/N,” he said as he sat down, looking at each of his friends to begin the conversation as if it were a business meeting. No beating around the bush. Just a proper conversation between friends who liked the same girl. “We gotta stop avoiding the topic,” Sunghoon sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“No clue what you’re talking about,” Jay mumbled demurely after the mention of your name.

Jake already knew what Sunghoon was thinking. The two practically shared one brain cell, so he simply glanced at the figure skater with a gaze that said: “Not you too,” but then he nodded because Sunghoon’s gaze replied with, “Are you really surprised?”

“I didn’t do anything though,” he added out loud, so Heeseung and Jay could understand at least a part of the mental conversation. “But the three of you are pissing me off.” He shrugged.

“You like Y/N but you’re a dick.” He pointed at Heeseung with honesty that made the aforementioned boy flinch. “You like Y/N but you missed every chance you did have.” Sunghoon turned to Jay, earning a nasty glare. “And you’re all good but these two seem like even bigger losers,” he said to Jake, who grinned in response.

“Shut up. Y/N’s just pretending she doesn’t want me,” Heeseung said confidently, and Jake snorted.

“He’s lost it,” Jake claimed. “Heeseung being delusional is a rare occurrence. I need to savour this moment.”

“I know she wants me,” said Jay, and to this, Jake couldn’t entirely say no. You had slept with him once, you could do it again. Though you haven’t.

And Jake realised that it really didn’t matter to him because, at the end of the day, you always came back to him. You could destroy him, tear his heart into pieces, and he’d still crawl on gravel just for you. That’s how bad it was for him, and he couldn’t fault his friends for feeling the same way.

They were one. Even if they were each vastly different. This group of friends was created through fate. Connected together, and likely with a string that began with Y and ended with OU.

If it wasn’t for you, Heeseung would never befriend Jay and Jake, no matter how awful his reasons were. And if it weren’t for you, Sunghoon would never be introduced to them.

You put them together, and they had to stay that way.

Sunghoon bit his lower lip. Did you at least view him as a friend? He could never speak to you properly these days.

“Look,” Jake spoke up, shaking his head. In his mind, he was a selfish bastard who wanted to keep you all to himself, but these were his friends, and he loved them too. They were not going to fight each other over you. They’d rather avoid it, no matter how unhealthy the lack of confrontation might be. “As long as we don’t have a repeat of Bin from last year, I think we’re good.”

Bin was a girl they all liked enough to want to be with, and it seemed she liked them back. But when the gossip about them spread through school like wildfire, she could not handle that.

You were the centre of Miss Decelis for years. (Jay kept true to his word and told no one about your secret.) The last thing you would care about was people whispering about you being with all of them at once.

If you agreed to it.

Sunghoon hadn’t even begun properly speaking to you yet.

“Y/N is different,” Jay affirmed. And while each of the boys wanted to have you for themselves, they knew that unless you chose one of them specifically, all of them still had a chance.

A laugh bubbled up in Heeseung’s chest. “Have you guys ever noticed that the five of us are basically the centre of Miss Decelis? Even if she talks about others, we probably racked up the highest mention count.”

Jay ran a hand through his hair as the only one who knew why. He grinned with feigned nonchalance. “Our lives are clearly the most interesting among the other Decelis losers.”

“Mean,” Jake said and shook his head. “I didn’t have that many mentions until…” you, he wanted to say, but didn’t. The message was clear regardless.

“‘Cause you’re boring.” Heeseung rolled his eyes playfully. “Y/N makes you more fun… which is not something I thought I’d ever say.”

“You’re down bad for her, buddy,” Sunghoon sighed and patted his friend’s shoulder sympathetically. But at least he got to be with you.

Jay didn’t touch another woman in weeks because of you, and Heeseung couldn’t stay still without having his dick wet since he couldn’t have you. Each of them dealt with their feelings differently, and Sunghoon just didn’t have any time because he’d been training for an upcoming national competition.

One that you would be at because you said so. You and your father would both be there to watch him perform. So he needed to be at his best. Not just to win, but to prove himself to your family once more, to make sure he wouldn’t be abandoned and thrown to the streets (which would not happen).

“Realistically, the centre has always been Y/N and the two of us,” Heeseung said, pointing at himself and Jay. “Do you think we ever did something to this girl? Who even is she? And why attack Y/N when… you know.”

“I guess it’s just some slighted petty bitch,” Jay replied as if he didn’t know the truth and shrugged. “Maybe it’s someone from our childhood that all three of us ignored back then.”

“But wouldn’t that also include me?” Jake added, a confused pout plastered on his lips. “Since I was always with you.”

Sunghoon nodded. He wasn’t as involved with the three guys when they were children, but Jake was right. If it was from childhood, even Jake would be included, right?

“Nah. You’re always too nice. To everyone. Especially Y/N. She was just pretending,” Jay reasoned. Because surely, the guys would believe that. “Maybe she was pissed at us and then accidentally took it out on some poor rando and now we got Miss Decelis on our ass.”

Heeseung chuckled. “I’d like to see that. Pissed Y/N has to look hot as fuck.”

“She’s more cute when she’s pissed,” Jay spoke absentmindedly, and the three guys glanced at him with question marks behind their eyes. “What? Haven’t any of you pissed her off yet? Just me?”

“I don’t talk to her much,” Sunghoon said plainly.

“Do I look like I could piss Y/N off?” Jake questioned with a raised brow.

“She just ignores me unless I literally beg for a restraining order. I wish she would at least get angry at me.” Heeseung scoffed, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m actually surprised you don’t have one yet,” Sunghoon thought aloud, and Jake laughed, fist-bumping the figure skater.

Heeseung glared at both, but it was light-hearted. “Whatever.”

Look. You were not supposed to tag along to the ice rink with your father. But it had been a while since you saw Sunghoon ice skate, and you always loved to appreciate him from a distance. He was the unreachable ice prince wherever he went, and that whole image fascinated you.

But his figure skating was beautiful. He would always get lost in his choreography and his movements. Every detail mattered, from head to toe. The smallest movements of his fingers were perfectly controlled, too.

You watched him in silence while your father spoke to his trainer on the side, both of them speaking about the plans for the upcoming national competition.

Sunghoon was already training, going through the same exact training session he must’ve for the past month or more. He barely had any time due to it all, and so you barely saw him outside of school — not that you two spoke anyway. But you liked catching glances of him. Hearing his voice every now and then.

He was your friend before you introduced him to the other guys. You knew that it would create a rift between you, but you also knew that he would be much better off with Jake than you. It was just something about the both of them that made you think they were destined to be friends.

Now, this was the longest you got to be around Sunghoon.

He didn’t notice you as you sat on the bleachers, smiling to yourself because you liked to watch him grinning from ear to ear as he did the thing he loved most — figure skating. He was lucky enough that it had the possibility of giving him a career that would secure his life for decades to come.

Even then, when you two were children, Sunghoon mentioned he also considered getting into acting one day. Which would be amazing. Especially with a face like his, he could be as popular as Song Kang or Cha Eunwoo.

When the set was over, you started clapping. Initially, you didn’t want to announce your presence to the boy, but you couldn’t help it. He was too good not to show your appreciation of his talent. And then there was that small, proud little smirk on his face when he was done, knowing he did well.

He startled slightly, glancing toward you. Eyes widening even more, you knew he wondered why you were here, watching him. So you smiled and waved to beckon him over like you two were fourteen again and your father was just settling the Decelis scholarship with Sunghoon’s parents.

“Y/N?” His full eyebrows arched as he gazed at you, and you grinned.

“Hello, Hoonie,” you greeted sweetly. “It’s been a while.” You didn’t mean generally seeing him or talking to him. Watching him figure skate — the last time you had done that was a year ago. It was a competition (you went to every single one you could).

“Yeah.” He nodded, confusion lacing his every movement even as he ran a hand through his hair to push it out of his eyes. “Is there a reason why—”

“I just wanted to see you,” you spoke frankly, shrugging. “Do you remember the last time we were here like this?”

“We were fourteen,” Sunghoon said, chuckling. “But yeah. I do.” How could he forget? It was the day you admitted you didn’t know how to ice skate, so Sunghoon decided to teach you a bit. And once it was all over, you somehow ended up talking about how another thing you’ve never done was kiss a boy.

If Sunghoon hadn’t been a coward, he could’ve kissed you then. But he didn’t. And sometimes he still thought about it and regretted that moment.

“A lot has changed since then,” you said, reminiscing. Four years could be compared to a whole century when you’re a teenager.

Sunghoon hummed in agreement. “Are you better at ice skating?” he asked.

“Much.” You grinned proudly.

And Sunghoon didn’t need to ask about the kissing. He already knew the answer to that. Sighing internally, he sometimes wished he could go back and be the first boy you ever kissed. But he couldn’t travel in time, so he was stuck here. The two of you at eighteen, barely speaking together.

“Would you maybe… want to hang out after my practice is done?” he asked cautiously, expecting a rejection to protect himself from being hurt. “If you’re planning to stay here that long, of course.”

You smiled softly, nodding. “I am. I missed watching you figure skate. You’re constantly getting better,” you praised his skill. “We could go to that waffle place my dad used to take us to after your practice.”

“Yeah… that sounds good.” Sunghoon nodded, cursing himself for not being a better friend to you. But he had been scared of what could happen if he did. Maybe he’d have noticed there was something wrong in the years coming up to the moment that changed the trajectory of all their lives.

Maybe if he noticed and put a stop to it himself, Heeseung and Jay would still dislike you, Jake would still fear talking to you, and Sunghoon would have you all to himself. But a string of completely different decisions led to the moment of you and him right here, right now, trying to build a bridge over the canyon you had created to help him find friends — better friends than you thought you were.

Now it would be up to you both whether said bridge would be the most unstable, made out of thin ropes and wooden planks, or if you’d opt for one made of stone and cement.

You were with Jake when Sunghoon approached you the next time. The two of you were working on a project for English class, and Sunghoon found it as the perfect opportunity to use his inability to learn English as an excuse to spend time with you.

Which you didn’t mind in the slightest. You loved English, and you were happy to explain anything Sunghoon was struggling with while Jake nodded along with a spark in his eye as he gazed at you. There was a different kind of calmness to you when you could delve into a topic you were knowledgeable about.

“Future perfect tense is not that used, to be honest,” you said, to make Sunghoon feel better. “Nobody casually says sentences like I will have gone home by the time you finish practice.”

“I still want to be better,” Sunghoon sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I just feel so lost whenever I travel abroad for figure skating competitions.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, glancing at Jake to silently ask whether Sunghoon ever shared this information with him. Jake’s shake of his head was small.

“I can tutor you, Hoon,” you said with a soft smile. Because to you, Sunghoon was still your friend, even if you barely spoke. “I have less extracurriculars than Jake does, so I have the time. I don’t mind it.”

“Are you sure, Y/N?”

“No, of course not. I’m offering because I don’t want to do it,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully. “Just say if you want me to tutor you or not. It’s on you. We can meet almost whenever you have free time.”

Jake nudged Sunghoon’s shoulder with a supportive grin. “C’mon, you need it, bro.”

“Okay. Yeah. Sure. We can do it. I just have a lot of—”

“Training, I know.” You nodded, biting your lip. “But we’ll figure something out, it’s fine. I can just… pick you up after your practices or something.”

Good morning, Decelis!

It seems our ice prince is not so icy after all. He’s been caught laughing with the one and only Y/N as they exited the ice rink yesterday.

Are you all thinking what I’m thinking?

XO, Miss Decelis

“Go on a date with me.”

You startled, looking up at the boy who just approached you in the corridor. You were just trying to get your textbooks, but he closed your locker right in front of your face to get your attention, staring at you pleadingly with his hands hidden in his pockets.

“What?” you asked, tilting your head to the side. “What are you talking about?”

“Go on a date with me,” he repeated slowly, ready to spell it out for you.

You laughed. “Jay–”

“I’m serious, Y/N,” he said, running a hand through his perfectly styled dark hair. Today, it was slightly falling on his forehead, and he had to constantly push the hair out of his eyes. “Go on a date with me. Please.”

“I don’t really have time—”

“Sunghoon will survive if you miss one tutoring session, trust me.” Because of course, Jay already knew your schedule — hopefully from Sunghoon. “Please,” he kept begging, staring at you as if his whole life depended on you saying yes. And a part of you wanted to say yes, that part of you that used to have a crush on him, but you two just made peace and became friends.

“This is ridiculous, Jay,” you scoffed, shaking your head. “You don’t actually like me. What happened last time was just— I don’t know, but you don’t want me, and I’m doing fine with Ja—”

“Don’t say that,” Jay cut you off. “Don’t say his name when I’m trying to ask you out. Besides, you don’t know how I feel, so why do you keep assuming?” He ran a hand through his hair again, clenching his jaw. You watched him in confusion as frustration took over his features because he needed you to believe him.

“You are right. I don’t like you. How I feel about you is something way beyond that, and I hate the fact that I can’t look at you without thinking of that time, and that I keep replaying you saying that you used to like me in my head. So just do this one thing for me, please, because I feel like I’m going to lose my mind.”

Rendered speechless by Jay’s confession, you had a hard time coming up with a proper response. Park Jay had feelings for you?

“I swear to God, Y/N, I am going to drop on my knees and—”

“No, Jay, stop. I will go with you,” you said finally, to stop him from making you feel even worse (read: to stop him from making your heart beat loudly in your ears). You bit the inside of your cheek, your stomach tight with knots. “I will go with you,” you repeated, looking into Jay’s eyes.

“Really?” The hope in his voice made your body feel warm, and you nodded to further affirm your decision. You were going on a date with Park Jay.

“But after Sunghoon’s competition,” you said decidedly, pursing your lips. Jay was right. Sunghoon could miss one tutoring session, but you’d rather if he didn’t. After the competition, he’d have more time, and that way, you could both tutor Sunghoon and then go on a date with Jay.

Ultimately, Sunghoon’s tutoring sessions were just an excuse.

He knew.

You and Sunghoon only met up twice a week, so it was obvious that you used him as an excuse to not go on that date with Jay and postpone it for some time. He didn’t mind it, but he kind of enjoyed being the guy in the middle. Or maybe it was just the fact that you wanted to spend time with him, and not Jay.

He liked watching you as you scrunched your nose and furrowed your brows while staring at a textbook while trying to figure out the best and simplest way to explain something to him. He liked the way a tiny smile graced your lips once you came up with something and looked at Sunghoon with your big eyes. He liked the way you moved closer, leaned into him, and pointed at his notebook to start your explanation.

Maybe he should be listening to you as you tried to show him the ropes of creating sentences in passive voice and using them, but if he was completely honest, it went in through one ear, and out through the other. All he could do was stare at you and your side-profile and be in disbelief over how pretty you were.

He understood what Jake saw in you a bit too well. Sunghoon would want to kiss the earth you walked on, too, if he was in Jake’s position. But you didn’t seem interested in Sunghoon the way he wanted you to. Your smiles were always friendly, your gaze kind, but you did not look at him the way you regarded Jake. Not even the way you looked at Jay.

Sunghoon, to you, was just Sunghoon. The kid your father was sponsoring. And he hated it. Why did you, of all people, have to be immune to him?

“Are you spacing out again?” you asked softly. Your eyes were glued to Sunghoon’s face and he blankly stared ahead, though at first his attention was purely on you.

Gulping, Sunghoon shook his head. “Sorry. I just… can’t seem to focus today,” he made a half-assed apology, but you smiled and let him be. Your mind already had a proper excuse made up for him anyway.

“The competition is pretty close, huh? Must be nerve-racking,” you said, placing your hand over his. The squeeze was purely sympathetic, it meant nothing more — at least Sunghoon thought so — and when you didn’t let go, it momentarily short-circuited his brain. “You’ll do great, Hoon. I know you will. And I’ll be there with you the whole time as well.”

Sunghoon stared at you. He wished he could tell you how much he liked you, but he was afraid. He always had been afraid. At first his reasons were rather selfish because he didn’t want to lose your father’s support if things didn’t work out between you, but now… Now he feared your rejection even more than anything else in the world.

Not even the idea of losing the upcoming competition scared him as much.

“Thanks.” Sunghoon slightly pulled away from you for his own sanity, but you noticed the movement and a small frown graced your lips. Perhaps he even saw a flicker of hurt in your eyes, too.

“Okay, then,” you said, clearing your throat. “I’m sure you want to focus on your training more than English, so we can end today’s session early.”

Sunghoon blinked at you. He had hurt you without realising it, and now he didn’t know how to fix this without babbling out the thoughts that truly went through his head. He could do nothing as you stood up from your seat, packing your bag to leave the library.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Hoon.”

Just like that, you left.

And Sunghoon hadn’t said a word to stop you.

An exasperated sigh left his lips once you were gone. He leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair.

Why was it so hard for him to speak whenever you were around?

Sunghoon’s competition was happening a week after the new year. Nothing in between mattered much. The tutoring sessions came to a halt with the Christmas break, but Sunghoon and his family were still invited to the huge Christmas party that your parents organised. Obviously, the Lees had to show up, and so did Jake and Jay’s families. Nothing much happened except for Heeseung trying to talk to you while Jeonghyeon actively did everything in his power to keep his cousin away from you.

Then it was the Parks, Jay’s family, who organised a large New Year’s party where you spent the day surrounded by all four guys as they desperately fought for your attention. It was Heeseung who stole your New Year’s kiss as well, but you didn’t bother fighting him since Jeonghyeon, Jay and Jake’s glares were scathing enough.

So now you sat inside the packed stadium filled with figure skating fans and many girls from Decelis Academy as they held huge pickets and flags with Sunghoon’s face plastered on them as if he were an idol, cheering for him. You had to bite back your smile as you watched Sunghoon cringe the moment he stepped on the ice and the girls began squealing.

You watched him prepare, doing practice laps and some figures as he tested himself on the ice. It took a few minutes for him to finally settle in the centre, eyes fixating on you in his starting position.

He whispered, “Wish me luck,” and winked at you, which could’ve gone unnoticed had you not been captivated by him the whole time. Gulping, you licked your lips and nodded.

You recognised the song that started playing from the many practices you had visited simply because you wanted to. Because you could. A soft melody of a song he chose, called Moonstruck. His figure was impeccable.

The moment he started moving, the whole stadium silenced. There was nothing else but Park Sunghoon and the rink that he danced on, every movement graceful and meticulous from his toes to his fingers. Every detail mattered even if he was merely spreading his arms. His body followed the rhythm, and you understood what your father had seen in him all those years ago when he chose to take the small boy under his wing and help him become better at figure skating.

The applause that followed was deafening. But you couldn’t bring yourself to move as you saw him bow after the song ended. Even as he made his way toward his mother from the ice. Even as he, eventually, approached you and your father to head toward the chairs with the other contestants, waiting for his score.

It was high. Highest of the day so far, but there were still some contestants left, so it couldn’t be definitively said that Sunghoon won.

You chewed on your lip as you watched him, nervosity coursing through your veins. Sunghoon deserved to be first place. Even your father seemed to think so with the huge grin on his lips as he regarded Sunghoon with immense pride.

And, an hour later, you were indeed running to him to throw your arms around his shoulders for winning gold. Sunghoon was smiling widely. His parents were elated. So was your father. The success meant a huge door had opened for Park Sunghoon, the figure skating prodigy. But you only cared about him.

Jumping into his arms, you tightly wrapped your arms around his neck. “Congratulations, Hoon! You did it! You’re a national champion,” you spoke into his shoulders while the boy held onto your waist, keeping your body in the air.

“I knew you could do it.” You pulled away from him with a smile, still holding onto his arms. And Sunghoon stared at you, in the intense kind of way that you never saw him do before. “Hoon?” you asked, worrying if he spaces out again.

“It’s because of you.” He slapped away your concern with a lopsided grin, his eyes never leaving yours. “I wanted to do my best for you,” he mumbled softly, and you tilted your head to the side.

“Why would you—”

But Sunghoon cupped both your cheeks by then, planting his lips on yours. A collective gasp went through the crowd within the stadium as they saw you. Not just on the podium, but also on the huge screen as there had been a camera on Sunghoon the whole time.

“I really, really like you, Y/N,” he said after he pulled away, and your eyes widened. Everything was captured on camera.

You couldn’t exactly say you didn’t like him back, though. It would be a lie to say that Sunghoon didn’t have an ability to make your heart flutter. You liked him a lot. But you also liked Jake… and Jay wanted to take you on a date. And Heeseung — well, you hated how often you tended to think about him, too.

“I—”

“Erm.” You recognised your father’s voice from behind. Turning to face him, your cheeks burned. Sunghoon didn’t just kiss you in front of a whole stadium — he kissed you in front of your father.

Fuck.

His arms were crossed, and you stepped in front of Sunghoon just in case your father were to berate him.

A smile spread across his lips instead, though.

“I already considered you a part of the family, Sunghoon, but this is a truly pleasant surprise,” he said, grinning at you and the figure skater. “Although I expect Jay’s and Jake’s parents will be very disappointed to know. They were rooting for their sons.”

You glanced at Sunghoon but he didn’t bat an eye. Instead, he smiled even brighter, his eyes and nose scrunching in the most adorable way possible.

“So you don’t… disapprove of me dating?” you asked your father, raising a brow.

The man chuckled and shook his head. “Why would I, Y/N? Your mother and I just want you to be happy, and we know that Sunghoon is a good boy. I support it,” he said, patting the top of your head affectionately.

“You’re serious?”

“Very,” your father agreed. “Now come, your boyfriend has to do some interviews and get some photos before we all leave to celebrate the victory and the amazing news.”

“O-okay,” you stuttered, your eyes latching onto Sunghoon. He smiled and took your hand in his.

“Well, girlfriend, will you follow me?” he said rather jokingly, but to everyone around you, that seemed to be the new reality.

Park Sunghoon was now proclaimed your official boyfriend.

Good morning, Decelis!

Surprise, surprise! It’s our princess and the ice prince, after all. A fitting pair, I’d say. I wonder what happened during the winter holidays?

XO, Miss Decelis

“Do you ever take a break?” Jay approached you, glancing between you and his phone. “Do you still need to keep this up?”

You shrugged in response, already aware of what he was talking about. “I like it. There’s just something about messing with other people’s business that’s quite freeing,” you said, grinning.

Jay rolled his eyes. “And yet you keep writing about our business.”

“Is it really that bad if I haven’t said anything negative?” You pursed your lips, tilting your head to the side with your eyes fixed on Jay. “I haven’t badmouthed you in ages.”

The pout your lips formed made Jay glare at you light-heartedly, and you giggled.

“Good. ‘Cause this would be hella awkward if you did.” Jay pointed at himself and you. Because, yeah, he was taking you out on a date. Despite your ‘relationship’ with Sunghoon.

The guys were doing whatever they wanted. So were you. And between the five of you, your description of a relationship status was a venn diagram with you in the middle.

You pushed Jay’s chest with a roll of your eyes. “So, where are you taking me?” you asked, and the boy grinned.

“Somewhere you’ll like,” he said before examining your fit. It was casual, but not too casual to make him assume that you didn’t care. You wore a long-sleeved white dress speckled with blue flowers, and a black winter coat to keep you warm in the freezing weather.

He, as usual, wore loose black jeans, a black shirt and coat, looking like the heir of a million dollar company — which he was. His cologne was different today, but you liked it regardless. Perhaps Killian?

When you made your way to his car, he opened the door for you before getting in himself. You grinned at his gentlemanly antics, but he said nothing — as if it was completely normal and expected of everyone. Perhaps to him, it was.

Nothing was said between either of you when Jay drove. Music played softly from the radio, but neither of you dared to break the silence. Between the two of you, it wasn’t necessary to speak. In that way, he was similar to Sunghoon (and occasionally Jake, but Jake usually loved chatting with you about random things).

Jay spoke up only when you were almost at your destination.

“So, a little background information,” he said with a chuckle, the car nearing a parking lot. “You know how my house is eery and lonely whenever it’s just me there?”

You scoffed. “How could I forget?”

“Well.” Jay glanced at you, a corner of his lips lifting in a soft smile. “My parents agreed to let me get a pet. And I was thinking of getting a cat.”

“What?” You turned to face him, but Jay was already parking in front of an animal shelter, grinning. “You want to adopt a cat?”

“Yep.” Jay nodded. “And I want you to choose which one.”

“Jay…” This was a pet that would be with him for as long as it lived, and you weren’t sure if you making the choice of which cat it should be was a smart decision. The cat should like him first.

“I trust you. Besides, if it’s a cat that likes you, then I’m most definitely going to like that cat.” He grinned. “Because it’ll have great taste.”

“Jay.” Your cheeks heated up at the comment, shaking your head.

“You know that’s also why I disliked you so much before?” He chuckled, shaking his head as he reminisced of his younger self. “Because you were so stupidly pretty and my parents were obsessed with you and everything about you. It just… annoyed me.” He parked the car, running a hand through his hair as he turned the ignition off. “And now that you’re not pretending and are finally yourself, it makes you even more attractive.”

You giggled. You didn’t know what took over you in that moment, but you giggled, hearing Jay call you attractive. “Stop.” You tried to lightly slap Jay’s shoulder, but he caught your hand, intertwining your fingers.

“I’m serious, Y/N. So yes, I want your help choosing the cat that will live in my home because hopefully it will make you want to come over more often.”

There was that sly smirk you would expect from Park Jay, and you rolled your eyes. “What makes you so sure I even like cats?”

“Everything about you screams cat lover, darling. Don’t play dumb.” Jay stared into your eyes, and you couldn’t look away as his dark gaze pierced through you. “C’mon, let’s go get a cat,” he said with a smile.

Jay opened the door of the car for you, and then he held open the door inside the animal shelter as well. The smell of animals hit your senses like a truck, but not necessarily in a bad way. You just weren’t used to this many animals in one place.

Seeing them in their enclosures, you had the urge to adopt every single pet in the shelter, but you couldn’t do that. Instead, you glanced at Jay, who pointed toward the cats. Not many words were exchanged between the two of you as you walked, each of you examining the cats with soft smiles on your faces.

Though there was one in particular that caught your attention. A black cat continued staring at you as you moved across the shelter, and you couldn’t help but feel a pull toward her.

A black cat would be such a perfect choice for Jay. You knew it.

Tapping his shoulder, you grinned and pointed toward the enclosure. “I like that one,” you said, immediately going to her.

You dared to stretch out your hand for the cat, waiting for a reaction. She stretched her body and walked toward your hand with a low meow before leaning into your hand, begging you to pet her.

An even bigger smile broke out on your lips. “Hello, little one,” you whispered, scratching her ears. “How long have you been here?” you asked.

“Three months,” Jay responded from behind you, reading a sign by the enclosure. “Her name is Byeori.”

The cat looked at Jay when she heard her name spoken out loud, and she meowed again, this time to get Jay’s attention to be on her.

He joined your side to try and befriend the cat himself, and she did not fight him in the slightest. As if sensing what kind of person Jay was, the cat let him pet her, purring.

“She has good taste,” Jay chuckled, glancing at you. “I think she chose you first.”

You bumped his shoulder with yours, giggling. “So we’re taking her home, right?”

“To my home, yes, I think we are.” Jay nodded.

Heeseung was desperate.

He didn’t know why he stood in front of the door to your home all on his own.

You seemed happy with whatever you had with Jay, Jake and Sunghoon. But he wanted to be a part of it. If there was one thing Heeseung hated, it was being left out. He understood how he must’ve made you feel in the past now.

It was a horrendous feeling. One that clawed on your insides, coating your skin and never quite letting go. You had all of his friends now wrapped around your fingers and he… he also couldn’t stop thinking about you.

When you opened the door, you wore sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. Glasses loosely hung on your nose, and your hair was tied in a simple knot to keep your hair out of your eyes.

This was the version of you he was familiar with. A remainder of the old you that would never disappear. Somehow, Heeseung appreciated it even more than the new you.

“What?”

“Is anyone—”

“No, my parents are at work, why—”

“Okay.” Heeseung slipped inside past you, closing the door behind himself. Your eyebrow rose as you eyed him.

“Heeseung, what—”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Your mouth practically dropped to the ground the second he fell to his knees with his head hung low, repeating the words: “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Hee—”

“I’m sorry for treating you like the biggest asshole known to man when we were younger.” Heeseung didn’t let you interrupt, looking up at you through those big Bambi eyes of his. “I’m sorry for making you feel unwanted, and for leaving you out of everything I could because I was a stupid kid. I’m really sorry.”

“Heeseung, what are you doing?”

“I want us to start over. To be better.” And he genuinely meant every word. He wasn’t sure why he cared so much all of a sudden, but he wanted you to be in his life as more than just the girl that ignores him whenever you’re in the same room. He had to make sure you would understand how truly deeply sorry he was and how much he wanted to start over.

You stared at him. Blinking a few times, you weren’t sure how to react at first. This was what you had wanted for a good part of your life. Heeseung wanting to be your friend. You did not expect him to beg for it on his knees, but it did bring you a twisted sense of satisfaction.

Besides the confusion, a lopsided grin spread across your lips. There was a strange allure to this Heeseung. Desperate just to be near you, and a part of you wanted to take advantage of it. But could you do it? What would that mean for you and Jake? Or Sunghoon? Or even Jay…

“Get up, Heeseung,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “Get up before I do something really stupid, please.”

Those big eyes that stared at you through long lashes made your expression soften. But Heeseung heeded your command and stood up, towering over you once more. “Y/N—”

“We can start over,” you replied with a nod. “I can forgive you, I think. Over time.”

Sighing in relief, Heeseung nodded. “That’s all I need.”

Good morning, Decelis!

Did we all just collectively hallucinate, or did Y/N truly enter the school with all four of the Decelis heartthrobs by her side?

XO, Miss Decelis

“Jake— ah,” you moaned when he nipped at an especially sensitive spot on your neck. He found the time to come to the library with you before your tutoring session with Sunghoon, and you couldn’t deny him.

His hands were on your hips, pressing you against the wall of the library firmly, keeping you in place as his mouth roamed your skin. Your uniform’s blazer was already on the ground, and Jake let go of your hips just to undo the buttons of your shirt.

“I missed you,” he murmured, kissing the soft skin of your breasts where they were not covered by a bra.

He felt your chuckle vibrate through your chest. “Jakey, we haven’t seen each other for two hours,” you said.

Instead of responding, he hummed, going back up to capture your lips with his. There was a sort of desperation in the way he sucked on your lower lip before you allowed him full access to your mouth. Your hands tangled in his soft locks, and you pressed your body closer to his, to feel the bulge in his crotch on your stomach.

“I just need you,” Jake spoke against your lips, and the heat that spread through your body made you nearly combust. “You mean so much to me, Y/N. You have no idea.”

“And you mean a lot to me, too, Jake.” You pulled away from him for a bit, to look into his eyes. To let him know how serious you were. Jake had always been good to you, no matter your situation. And you cared for him deeply.

A tiny smile tugged at his lips as his eyes explored yours. He didn’t want to say it out loud, but knowing that you started talking to Heeseung made him strangely anxious. He liked to think he wasn’t jealous, but out of all the guys, Heeseung had always been the hardest to compete with. “You will always come back to me, right? No matter what happens?”

You nodded. “No matter what happens,” you agreed at the moment. But later, when you would think about this, it would scare you. Terrify you, in fact. Because you weren’t ready to think about what it meant.

Jake kissed you again, letting your hands do the work and unbuckle his belt. His trousers were off within seconds, and his hands roamed down your body to the wet panties underneath your skirt, grinning into the kiss.

It surprised you when Jake suddenly grabbed you by the thighs, lifting you from the ground, your back pressed against the wall as the only support for your body other than Jake. But he lined you up perfectly with his cock, letting you slowly take him in as his arms strained to keep you from falling.

His groan was music to your ears, the sensation of his length filling you up slowly rendering you silent, though you were used to his rougher ways by now, too.

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so perfect,” Jake let you wrap your legs around his hips, his hands moving to your ass to have a proper grip on your body before he started moving.

“Jake, please,” you begged for him to do something now that he was fully inside you. “I need you.”

Jake buried his head into the crook of your neck. “I need you more,” he replied before pulling out and thrusting even deeper inside you as if it was possible.

You felt him in your stomach, in every bit of your body and in the marrow of your bones. Jake moved leisurely, but each thrust was powerful enough you felt like you would erupt any second.

“Jake, oh, fuck.” You bit your lip to be quieter, barely remembering that you two were still inside the public library, having sex in the section with prehistoric textbooks that nobody ever used. “It’s— so much.”

“You can take it,” he huffed out, focusing more on pleasuring you than anything else. “You’ve taken more.”

Yes, you have. But you were not inside a library before and didn’t need to be able to walk out of there. Nor did you need to get through a tutoring session afterwards.

The next powerful thrust made your head spin, pleasure tinged with pain as it seemed that Jake would not stop any time soon.

Your body went limp in his arms. “Jake. Jake. Jake,” you repeated his name, unable to finish the sentence you wanted to say.

You cummed around his cock, and he wasn’t far away, capturing your lips again to contain the moans that would otherwise leave his mouth as his semen filled you up. (You started taking birth control after Jake’s birthday.)

“I love you so much, Y/N,” he mumbled in a daze, and part of you wasn’t sure if you heard him correctly. But, to make it worse, he repeated the words: “I love you.”

You weren’t ready to hear that yet.

When Jake let go of you, you stared at him with your eyebrows furrowed and lips slightly parted. “Jake, you don’t know what you’re saying,” you claimed because people tend to say stupid things after sex, right? He wasn’t thinking clearly.

“That’s just how I feel about you, Y/N.” Jake shook his head, attempting to wrap his arms around you, but you didn’t let him, stepping back.

The single action made Jake’s movements stutter. His eyes searched yours with hurt written all over them, and you bit your lip. Your heart raced in your chest almost as fast as your thoughts.

“You don’t have to say it back. I just wanted to be honest with you,” said Jake in an attempt to salvage the situation, but it was too late. You were panicking. You cared about Jake, but did you love him? You couldn’t say.

And maybe it was the worst possible thing to do after a person confesses their love to you… but you ran. You fled as fast as you could, completely forgetting that you had a tutoring session afterward, or anything else whatsoever.

Sim Jake loved you.

But you were a fucking coward.

You haven’t been to school in days, claiming a mysterious illness that left you bedridden. Sunghoon had tried to ask Jake if he knew anything of your whereabouts as you seemingly didn’t reply to anyone. He tried asking Heeseung and Jay after he grew truly desperate, but to no avail. You weren’t responding to them, and Jake generally refused speaking about you.

Sunghoon didn’t know what happened between the two of you, but it had to be serious if Jake refused to tell him about it. You had been ignoring Sunghoon since the one tutoring session you stood him up on and never texted him back after he asked if you were okay.

All your friends claimed you were still alive, just not feeling well. Jeonghyeon and Ning were the only direct contacts anybody had to you.

Heeseung tried knocking on your door, but you never responded yourself. Usually, it was your parents, and they always had an apologetic kind of look that said you refused to see him. But, to be fair, apparently, Jeonghyeon hadn’t seen you in person in days either.

Despite knowing all this, Sunghoon wanted to try his luck. He knew that skipping school as a scholarship kid was the worst thing he could possibly do, but he needed to make sure you were okay. Everyone thought you were his girlfriend, and him knowing nothing of how you were doing drove him nuts.

The staff at the hotel let him pass easily, already familiar with him as both your father’s ward and Heeseung’s best friend. Sunghoon greeted them all with a polite bow and smile, rushing toward the elevators so they wouldn’t question why he wasn’t at school.

Getting to your floor came to Sunghoon automatically as he had been there countless times as a child, still remembering his excitement whenever his parents agreed to let him play with you while they were talking to your father. Those were probably his happiest moments as a child figure skater. Even if it was just the two of you playing hide and seek around the house.

He didn’t expect much when he rang the bell. Why, of all the people that came to visit you, would you open the door for him?

You did, though. In an oversized T-shirt and shorts, thick glasses hanging on the tip of your nose. The look on your face told him you were contemplating slamming the door in his face, so Sunghoon strategically put his foot on the doorstep, knowing you would never try to hurt him, especially to just close a door.

“Hi,” he said quietly.

“Hi,” you echoed. “Why aren’t you at school, Hoon?”

“I had to make sure you’re okay.” Sunghoon ran a hand through his hair, gazing at you. There was a sadness that laced your voice, and he noticed your eyes were red from crying. But judging by the movie playing in the background, Twentieth Century Girl, he guessed that was why.

You pressed your lips together and smiled. “I’m fine,” you sighed. “I’m just not ready.”

“Ready for what?”

You frowned. “Do you want to come inside?”

“Yeah. Sure.” Sunghoon nodded, slipping inside the hallway with your approval. Wordlessly, you led Sunghoon to the living room space, where the movie played on a large screen.

You had a whole set up of pillows and blankets on the sofa, so you sat down on the ground in front of it, patting the spot next to you.

When Sunghoon sat down, silence engulfed the both of you. You didn’t say anything and neither did he. You just watched the movie together as your head dropped to his shoulder, more tears making their way to your eyes despite the scenes being seemingly happy.

When you spoke up, Sunghoon didn’t know how to react at first. “You don’t really like me, right?” you said.

Sunghoon turned to face you, baffled by the question. “What do you mean?” He tilted his head to the side, in disbelief over the question. “Of course, I like you. I always have.”

“But not… not like that.” You pointed at the movie as if it was hard for you to explain in words.

“Yes, like that,” Sunghoon said firmly, shaking his head. He dared taking your hand in his and intertwining your fingers. “Since we were kids, Y/N. I was just… scared. Still am. What I did after I won the competition… I just wanted to be brave for once.”

You looked down at your legs, hugging your knees to your chest. “But—”

“I’m sorry for not showing you earlier. But it’s always been you. Even for Jake, I think.” Sunghoon shook his head and chuckled. “It’s actually what we initially bonded over, you know? Just… you.”

“Please, don’t.” You averted your gaze.

Sunghoon squeezed your hand, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “It’s such a weird thing for me to say but… we all like you. In our own ways, Y/N. Jake, me, Heeseung, Jay. In the end, it’s on you if you want any of us or all of us, really, but we’ll be here for you. No matter what happens.”

The phrase, no matter what happens, was what made you truly cry. Sunghoon had no clue what he did, but regardless, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, letting you cry your heart out onto his shirt. He held you tightly, not letting go. He never wanted to let you go.

You had to go to school eventually.

With Jeonghyeon, Ning and Hanbin right by your side, you did everything you could to catch up on classes you’d missed, avoiding Jake as much as you could.

You missed him, but you weren’t quite sure how to deal with the knowledge of his feelings toward you. Could you accept it? Could there be something more? How did anyone even know if they were in love?

Attraction was one thing, but love…

Still, Jake was everywhere you went. Not just him, though. Sunghoon, Heeseung and Jay were with him, too. And it was difficult to ignore the stares all four boys gave you whenever you were in the same room.

“I think I fucked up,” you said to your friends during lunch, shaking your head. Realistically, you knew you fucked up. There was no other way of calling it. Because you slept with Jake, Jay, almost with Heeseung, and Sunghoon liked you.

It’s not a situation the younger you would ever imagine yourself in, but your resolution not to care about much has clearly gone awry. Maybe you should’ve cared.

“Yeah. I think telling Heeseung you could forgive him was a mistake, too,” Jeonghyeon replied automatically.

“Not what she meant,” said Ning knowingly, glancing toward the table with the four Decelis heartthrobs. “They all look like kicked puppies. It’s kinda sad.”

“Well, wouldn’t you be if you and all of your best friends liked the same girl?” Hanbin asked with a raised brow. “And she’s not doing anything much about it either.” He gave you a pointed look.

You sighed, playing with the ends of your hair. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Do you remember Bin from last year?” Ning asked, her eyes widening slightly when she remembered that you were not at Decelis during the time.

You did remember, however. As Miss Decelis, you remembered everything. You attacked the guys quite a bit during the time since all you had was anger — not even toward them. But from what you understood, it was Bin who broke off everything as she didn’t like the way the other Decelis students treated her.

“I read Miss Decelis,” you claimed falsely, a tense smile plastered on your lips.

“Right. Who didn’t.” Ning nodded, pursing her lips. “But this is kinda what they do, no? They get obsessed with one girl and then she’s the one who suffers. I think you should just… try to get out of that while you can.”

“But… they’re my friends,” you said quietly, incapable of letting it go. The younger you had always wanted to be able to say that. To call the four of them your friends. And now that it was true, how could you just throw it away?

“That you fucked.”

“Please, don’t say that,” Hanbin said, face contorted in disgust. “We don’t need to acknowledge it so openly.”

“I actually didn’t—”

“Yeah, yeah. Only Jake and Jay, actually, but it doesn’t change much. Remember that half the country thinks you’re dating Sunghoon and that the whole school has seen you with Heeseung?”

“Why do we have to talk about this again?” Jeonghyeon’s brow rose, his nose scrunched.

“Because I don’t know what to do,” you said.

“And we’re supposed to help you how?”

“By shutting up.” Ning glared at Jeonghyeon. “Y/N, babe, you’re thinking too much,” she said, grabbing your hands in hers. “Just do what feels right in your heart.”

You blinked at her, face blank. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m trying to be romantic here. You’re ruining it.”

“Well, that’s your first mistake.” Hanbin shook his head. “Trying to get Y/N to be a romantic.”

“Fine.” Ning rolled her eyes. “Who do you like spending time with the most? Like, who makes you feel giddy and excited to be with them, you know?”

Jake. That was the first answer that came to your mind. He always knew how to make you laugh. He made you feel special, and his teamwork was incomparable. But the more you thought about it, you realised you also loved to have Sunghoon by your side. He understood you so well. And Jay made you feel safe in a way you had never experienced before. He was always making sure that you would never get hurt, even if it was the smallest thing known to man, like stubbing your toe. Heeseung managed to make everything feel more exciting. He could make your heart race like no other.

“They all do,” you said, “in their own ways.”

Ning was speechless. Following your gaze toward the four boys that were conversing with one another, she let out a huff. “Then I can’t help you, girl. You need to talk to them yourself.”

“They’re all losers anyway.” Jeonghyeon rolled his eyes.

Hanbin chuckled, nudging the boy with his shoulder. “And you’re better how?”

“Well, first of all—” and Jeonghyeon continued to name all the reasons he considered himself better than his slightly older cousin because in reality, he cared for Heeseung as a brother. Sometimes, he just really could not stand him and how idiotic he could be.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Sunghoon asked for the millionth time today as the two of you sat in your bedroom with English textbooks spread over your floor. For reasons, you were still avoiding staying in the library for too long.

“Yes, Hoon, it’s okay. My parents aren’t gonna be home until later, so nobody cares. Calm down,” you replied for the third time (without exaggeration) within the span of fifteen minutes. “Unless you’re planning something other than studying, it’s totally fine.”

Sunghoon’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’m not—” he bit his lip, flustered by the remark. “Just because I said I like you— that’s not what— Y/N…”

“I’m joking, Sunghoon,” you said, a lopsided grin decorating your lips. “You can only get a kiss if you can get this exercise correctly.”

“Huh?” Sunghoon blinked swiftly and several times, gaping at you.

Teasing him was your new favourite activity. He was a confident fraud at school, you concluded, because the boy you knew was nothing like the Park Sunghoon from Decelis Academy that made it onto Miss Decelis many times before.

You started coming to peace with the fact that you truly liked each of the boys for different reasons. But you were most drawn toward Sunghoon and Jake. The two boys were the same in so many ways that they made you feel similar but different. And being with Sunghoon made missing Jake somewhat easier.

“Here.” You pointed at the empty worksheet in front of him. “If you can correctly fill it, you get one kiss.”

“Are you serious?”

You nodded. And, as proof, you leaned in to give Sunghoon the lightest peck on his lips. “Very serious.”

“I’m a genius,” he said, in English, grabbing the worksheet with newfound fervour that made you laugh.

Sunghoon grinned at you, a genuine toothy smile that was rare from him, and then he put all his focus on the work you gave him. His brows furrowed, and he bit his bottom lip in thought.

It took him ten minutes to fill every sentence, but he kept looking at you to gauge whether you approved of his answer or not. You could not bring yourself to scold him and make the judgement for himself. Especially because he did fill everything correctly.

Sunghoon chewed on his lip, glancing at you expectantly while pushing the finished worksheet toward you. The grin that made its way onto your face couldn’t be contained, merely because you were proud of his progress.

“You really are a genius,” you said.

“So… my kiss?” Sunghoon spoke eagerly, and you giggled.

Beckoning him closer with your index finger, you watched as Sunghoon scooted closer to you on the floor. He used his legs and arms to push all of the textbooks and papers you had spread out before out of the way. Biting his lower lip, he stared at you.

“Are you sure?” he questioned uncertainly.

You nodded.

”Can I kiss you?” he asked again because he wanted a verbal answer. “Use your words, Y/N.”

“Yes,” you whispered. “Yes, you can kiss me, Hoon.”

Smiling, Sunghoon cupped your cheek with one hand before leaning in and hungrily capturing your lips with his. It was a different kiss to the one you shared after he won the figure skating competition. This kiss felt real. Something both of you were doing consensually.

“I want you to be able to always talk to me,” he said in between small pecks, his lips moving to your neck. He bit at the tender skin, smirking when you whimpered. “Don’t ever hide from us, again, okay? No matter what happens, Y/N. We want to be here for you.”

“I—” you paused when you felt Sunghoon’s soft lips against your shoulder. “What if I can’t…” you began, grabbing Sunghoon’s cheeks to make him look into your eyes again. Both your pupils were blown wide as you stared at each other. “Jake—”

“Will still love you whether you choose just him or all of us,” Sunghoon finished for you, finally aware of what had transpired between you. “We’re just the pathetic bunch of guys who lost their minds over one girl. You’re the one who calls the shots.” He grinned, kissing you again, though with much more passion to show you just how much he meant his words.

Placing his hands on your hips, Sunghoon waited for your reaction. He waited for what you would do. And it pleased him when you moved even closer, your hands raking through his locks.

It was you who began unbuttoning his shirt, and it was you who let him pull your t-shirt over your head. He groaned when he saw you were not wearing a bra, your nipples hard in the cold air. He could not resist the temptation to palm your boobs, listening to the small breathy sounds that left your lips as if you were simply an instrument he was playing.

Sunghoon’s lips were stuck to yours, shifting only enough to allow you to sit on his lap, your bare stomach pressing against his clothed but very hard dick. There were thoughts he had that he could not share with you nor his friends, but Sunghoon was convinced it should’ve been him to take your virginity. It could’ve been him who took your first kiss, too, but he was an idiot.

He had regrets to make up for, and you sat right in his lap, ready for whatever was to come.

When he pulled away from you for a bit, it was to show you how sex-crazed his expression was. “On the bed, now,” he commanded, not giving you much space to object.

You thought he wanted you to lie down on your back, but the opposite surprised you. Sunghoon was the one to do so, his head hitting your pillows. “I want you to ride my face,” he said, and you blinked at him several times, processing his words.

“What—”

“Have you not— oh, you haven’t.” Sunghoon came to the conclusion himself, watching the lost expression on your face. He chuckled and licked his lips. “Take the rest of your clothes off, Y/N.” A command. Again.

You obeyed instantly.

Sunghoon bit his tongue, hissing at the sight of you. “Beautiful,” he murmured to himself before pulling you to him. ”Just kneel above my face, Y/N.”

“But isn’t that dange—” You felt so embarrassed over the fact you were still so inexperienced despite the time you had spent with Jake.

“You can’t hurt me,” Sunghoon said, determined to be right. At least he could have one of your firsts. Even if it was riding his face. “Trust yourself, and trust me.”

“Okay.” You chewed on your lower lip.

Your movements were slow, but Sunghoon’s hands were on your legs, holding them apart and positioning you above his face with a satisfied grin.

“Now sit. Let me taste you.” There was an edge to his voice that made it hard to question him. You did as you were told, a gasp instantly leaving your lips when you felt his tongue lap at your pussy, his nose hitting your clit.

Sunghoon groaned, mesmerised by the sweet taste of you. He knew you were a fast learner the moment you started grinding your hips on his face. His tongue did wonders, filling you more than you would’ve thought possible, and whenever you had the urge to press your thighs together, Sunghoons arms were right there, keeping them apart.

His rhythm matched yours, and he enjoyed every moan that left your lips. “Hoon, fuck, yes, that feels good,” you murmured through the haze of pleasure, doing your best to keep it together.

“I’m— close,” you breathed out, the knot inside your stomach slowly untangling. Sunghoon’s movements became more erratic then, wanting to make you cum on his face.

“Sunghoon!” you exclaimed when you finally came undone, still riding off your high on the figure skater’s face, feeling his proud smile. “I need you in… inside,” you said, certain that you sounded pathetic, but Sunghoon hardly thought so.

He didn’t waste any time, flipping you to your back, his strength slightly surprising you. His trousers were gone within seconds, andthe sight of his pink tip covered in pre-cum made you salivate, but that was perhaps for another time.

You held your breath as Sunghoon hovered over you, teasing your entrance with his cock. Shooting him an annoyed look, he chuckled at your reaction before thrusting into you in one powerful movement. It made you lightheaded.

“So… tight,” Sunghoon groaned, and you wanted to say he could’ve at least eased his way in, but you kept your mouth shut. “Is this okay?” he asked anyway.

“Yeah,” you replied, shimmying your hips to spur him on. The way he filled you felt amazing, but you needed him to move. “Sunghoon, please.”

Smirking, he leaned toward you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. It was a stark contrast to his next action as he completely pulled out and then slammed his cock inside of you again. The squelching sound of your pussy was almost unreal.

“You’re so wet for me,” Sunghoon hummed, hands moving to your hips to hold your body at an angle that allowed him much better access. “So tight.”

He did not go easy on you, setting a rough, fast pace that made your insides turn to mush. But the pleasure was immeasurable. You could barely register the tight grip he had on your hips; it was most definitely going to bruise.

Your room was filled with the cacophony of your whimpers, Sunghoon’s groans and skin slapping against skin until your brain could barely register anything but the tsunami building inside of you, threatening to spill over any second.

“Sunghoon— oh,” you moaned pathetically, clutching your sheets desperately. “I’m— fuck— so close.”

His pace only turned more rabid and messy when you said it, chasing his own climax with you.

“Sunghoon!” you screamed when the pressure was finally too much. Your body trembled with ecstasy while Sunghoon didn’t let up even as you went limp in his arms.

He leaned down to press his lips to one of your boobs, biting down on your nipple, smiling at the exhausted breath that left your mouth. Your walls squeezed Sunghoon’s dick so deliciously it was not surprising when he came not long after, pulling out swiftly, his cum splattering messily over your chest and stomach.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he mumbled, momentarily letting himself collapse on the bed next to you. Not entirely to relax, since he immediately chased the touch of your lips on his, and you couldn’t deny him. “Let me clean you up,” he said against your lips.

You expected him to go to your bathroom and bring back a wet towel, but instead, when he got off the bed, he hauled you into his arms. You yelped, once again blown away by Sunghoon’s sheer strength.

He carried you to the bathroom with ease, laying you down in the large bathtub that only a five-star hotel like the one from the Lees could have inside a penthouse.

“I’m still not used to this,” Sunghoon said, glancing around the bathroom that was larger than his bedroom. But it didn’t stop him from doing what he intended.

What you thought would be quick aftercare turned into Sunghoon starting a full bath for you, cleaning your whole body and massaging your limbs until you practically fell asleep inside the bathtub.

He only got rid of the sweat from his own body, focusing mainly on you. He wanted to show you that at the end of the day, his world was truly revolving around you.

He may have denied it in the past simply because he was scared of what it would mean for him, but some things were worth being courageous for. Caring for you was one of those things.

When the two of you were children, you cared for him, and now it was his turn to return the favour. He needed to protect you from all the bad and be with you through all the good. And he didn’t even care if, in the end, you’d choose someone else.

It was Sunghoon who convinced you to talk to Jake.

“I’m so sorry for running away,” you apologised softly, afraid of making eye contact with Jake.

“No, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t.” You shook your head, glancing at Jake, your eyes firm. “Do not apologise for being honest about your feelings,” you said, brushing your hair out with your fingers.

Jake chewed on his bottom lip as he eyed you.

“I just— I don’t know… I feel awful. And guilty. Have I been leading you on this whole time? I don’t even know what it means to love someone and you—”

“No, Y/N, you haven’t,” Jake reassured you, reaching out for your hands. He held onto you tightly, forcing you to look into his deep brown eyes. “You’ve been very clear about not wanting a relationship. It’s my fault for—”

“No.” You shook your head again, yanking your hands out of Jake’s grip only to cup his cheeks. “Don’t say it’s your fault for having feelings, Jake. I— I know I care about you, too. I care about you a lot. You make me happy, and I want to be around you almost all the time. And I don’t know if that’s love, but if that’s how you feel about me, too, then that is not a fault.”

Jake pressed his lips together, a downturned smile gracing his features — it almost resembled a pout. “You also make Sunghoon really happy, did you notice?” he asked quietly. “He smiles a lot more around you.”

“I also care about Sunghoon a lot, but—”

“You should choose him,” Jake said at once, and you gaped at him in surprise.

“Jake… don’t say that.” You closed your eyes momentarily. “I can’t just choose. Not between you. You guys are friends.”

“Then don’t choose,” Jake sighed. “Just be with us. We’ll give you anything, Y/N. Just… please, don’t leave.” His eyes were these big, brown, sad pools that were sucking you in, and the only thought left in your brain was to kiss his pouty lips.

“I won’t leave,” you said, your smile rueful. “Not again.”

“You promise?” Jake grabbed your hands again, trying to get you to pinky promise, but you shook your head.

“I don’t think I’m fit to promise anything,” you said. “But I will do my best.”

“Then that’s all I need.” Jake squeezed your hands in support before leaning in for the kiss that you were not able to stop thinking about. “I’ve wanted to do this for the past week,” he mumbled, giggling against your lips.

“It doesn’t matter if you love me back or not, Y/N. I can love you enough for the both of us,” he said, a determined look on his face.

It was in that moment when you realised that maybe, after everything, you were in love with Sim Jake. Although it didn’t feel like fireworks or the way many people described it in books or movies, the certainty that there was someone who would always be in your corner, someone who made you feel safe to be yourself and who would never judge you was just as strong.

Jake wasn’t just a friend you cared about. He was a friend who would support you no matter what, and so much more. And you wondered if this was the feeling people got when they found the person they would forever consider their soulmate.

“Jake?” you whispered softly.

“Mhm?” he hummed.

“I think I love you, too.” The bright smile that graced your lips made Jake’s heart race. “But I don’t know how we should— I feel like everything is a mess. What about Hoon? And Jay? And—”

“I won’t make you choose, Y/N. If you don’t want to let them go, then don’t. We’re fine with it, I promise. As long as you don’t leave.”

“I won’t.”

“Good. Because I don’t think I can let you go after this.” Jake ran a hand through his hair, letting out a nervous chuckle.

“Then don’t.” You smiled.

Good morning, Decelis!

Who’s ready to party? I heard that the Chois are planning to start off the Lunar New Year with a bang.

XO, Miss Decelis

When Yeonjun claimed to have a special guest performance at his party, the last thing people had expected was for Bang Chan (a Decelis alumni), Seo Changbin and Han Jisung to appear on stage as a group called 3Racha. Their songs were actually amazing, but this was kind of their debut among the Decelis Academy students as nobody knew that they were a part of the underground scene for the past two years aside from Yeonjun, apparently.

You were getting a drink for yourself when he approached you with a grin. “You seem busy tonight,” he said, pointing toward a corner where four boys stood, all waiting for you to join them once again.

“Do I?” You raised your brow at him, and he let out a light-hearted chuckle.

“I’m glad you’re having fun, darling,” Yeonjun said, ruffling your hair teasingly. “Just no funny business in my house, okay? At least not without me.”

You rolled your eyes at the last remark. “You wish.”

“I really do.” Yeonjun shot you a wink, donning a lopsided grin. He avoided the slap you aimed at his shoulder, and disappeared into the crowd with a salute. “See you around, Y/N.”

“I don’t like the way he looks at you.” You recognised Sunghoon’s voice, surprised by it at such close vicinity. He had been standing in the corner with Jay, Jake and Heeseung not so long ago, but now he was right next to you. “Was he flirting again? Should I tell him to fuck off?”

“Hoon.” You looked at the figure skater, amused by the way his whole face was contorted by jealousy. His lips formed a slight pout and his brows were furrowed as he glared into the crowd where Yeonjun left. “He’s just teasing me. It’s fine. Yeonjun’s my friend.”

“But you said he was your first kiss,” Sunghoon pointed out because he had been curious a while ago and actually asked. “And Miss Decelis—”

“That was months ago. It doesn’t matter.” You shook your head. Back then, you just wanted to lose your virginity, and it did not matter to whom that would be. You got lucky when it ended up being Jake. “Yeonjun and I are just friends.”

“I know, I trust you.” Sunghoon looked at you, an adoring glint in his brown eyes. “I just don’t trust him. To be fair, I don’t even trust myself,” he sighed.

You chuckled, letting your head fall on his shoulder. “We’ll be fine, Hoon. All of us.” Glancing toward the other boys, you saw them talking to each other, laughing about something Heeseung said. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Can you tell the guys, so they don’t have to worry about me?”

Sunghoon gave you a tight-lipped smile, showing his dimples, and nodded.

“Thank you.” Kissing his cheek, you parted ways with him again, heading upstairs to find an empty bathroom.

But you never made it to one, someone yanking you inside an empty room by the wrist. You were going to blow up at the person for the gall they have to do this, but when your eyes fell on a familiar figure you thought you’d never see again, you froze.

Your brain entirely malfunctioned at the sight of Yoo Namsoon, one of the girls who made your high school experience hell. She was not the one who pushed you into the pool last year, but she did watch, doing nothing to stop it.

“How cute,” she said mockingly, eyeing you from head to toe. Your outfit did not fit the version of you that she knew from last year. “You think now that Heeseung and Jay finally don’t hate you, you’re something more?”

You wanted to protest. To disagree because that was not it, but your mouth could not generate any words as you stared at the girl. Her arms were crossed and her glare deadly. All you could do was chew on the inside of your cheek, your fists clenched to the point you felt your nails digging into the skin of your palms.

“Ah, that’s not why, is it?” Namsoon’s lips formed a self-satisfied smirk as she eyed you. “I know exactly what you are.” She let out a taunting laugh, stepping toward you. She knew you had nowhere to go. The door was behind her, and she would not let you run.

You know nothing about me, you wanted to retort, but the sounds were still not coming out of your mouth. You looked like a fish on dry land, opening and closing your mouth in a pathetic attempt to face one of the many ghosts of your past.

“Still the poor little Y/N, I see,” Namsoon said, enjoying the look of terror on your face. “Or… should I call you Miss Decelis, now that I figured it out?” She feigned a pout. “I wonder if the guys know. They might not appreciate the fact that this whole time, it’s been you, trying to make them look bad.”

You couldn’t breathe. The whole room was spinning despite how hard you tried to focus on Namsoon and how much you wanted to scream at her. All you could do was just stand in place, helpless and weak against one of the girls that nearly ruined your life.

“What?” Namsoon tilted her head to the side, giving you a pitying look. “Can you not speak for yourself?”

“I—”

The door burst open, stopping you from saying anything.

“What the fuck is going on?”

Heeseung had yet to speak to you alone since you reconciled with Jake. These days, you are always with someone. Whether it be the other guys or Jeonghyeon, Ningning and Hanbin. It was obvious you were closest with Jake and Sunghoon, but you quite liked spending time with Jay, too. It was your relationship with Heeseung that was still strained because of the past that haunted it — which was also entirely his fault.

But he really wanted to talk to you. He was just still building up the courage to do so. Which was strange since Lee Heeseung wasn’t usually the anxious type of guy who needed to properly think of what he would like to say to not sound like an absolute asshole.

“Heeseung!” Jeonghyeon’s voice took him out of his stupor. His cousin stared at him with panicked eyes, grabbing at his arm while frantically looking around. Jeonghyeon’s face dropped when he spotted only Jake, Jay and Sunghoon with Heeseung.

“Jeonghyeon, what’s—”

“Where’s Y/N?” he asked instantly, still looking around as if you would sense his panic and suddenly appear out of thin air.

“Sunghoon said she went to the bathroom, why—”

“We need to find her. Now.” Jeonghyeon pulled at Heeseung’s arm, which now fully had the attention of the other three guys, each staring at Jeonghyeon with raised eyebrows.

“What’s going on?” Jay asked, tilting his head to the side.

Jeonghyeon gave Jay a helpless look. “I heard someone say they saw Yoo Namsoon here,” he said, knowing that Jay was the only one who would truly understand his words. “We have to find Y/N.”

Yoo Namsoon was a familiar name to Heeseung. He remembered the girl from last year. They’d hooked up at a party once, and what he mostly took out of the whole encounter was her endless questions about you. He never quite figured out why she wanted to know so much about your childhood, though.

“Fuck,” Jay cursed under his breath, running a hand through his hair. “I thought she was out of the country?”

“No, that’s just Min Jiseo, since she was the one—”

“Wait, are you guys talking about the girls who got expelled for bullying?” Jake’s brows furrowed as he finally caught up to the several random names that were being dropped in the conversation. Then his eyes furrowed when he remembered the main reason why he’d known the name. “Min Jiseo… she was the one who pushed Y/N into the pool,” he said, his smile dropping.

“Yoo Namsoon was one of her best friends,” said Jeonghyeon, affirming the statement with a nod. “And right now, she’s somewhere at this party, and I can’t find Y/N.”

“Fuck,” Jay repeated again. “Let’s… let’s just all look around. One of us has got to be able to find her, right?”

“I’ll go upstairs,” Heeseung said instantly, knowing the house the best since he’d been to the house more than the few times the Chois organised parties. Choi Beomgyu was his friend, after all.

“We’ll look around,” Sunghoon agreed.

Heeseung ran toward the stairs, colliding with Beomgyu. “Hey, dude. Chill. What’s up?” The shorter guy’s laid back attitude only seemed to irk Heeseung more, but he stopped to respond regardless.

“Have you seen Y/N?”

“Oh, yeah. I think I saw someone pull her in one of the empty rooms. Was a bit weird, but I didn’t wanna pry.”

Heeseung blinked at Beomgyu several times. “You didn’t wanna—” Sighing, he shook his head. “Okay, thanks.” He wanted to think Namsoon hadn’t got to you yet, but he had a bad feeling about this.

Heeseung opened the door to every room he could until he found the right one.

“What the fuck is going on?” he asked, faced with Namsoon’s back.

You stood in the middle of the room, rooted in your spot. Eyes glossy with unshed tears, Heeseung’s immediate response was to push past Namsoon and wrap his arms around you. He ignored Namsoon’s scornful gaze and the scoff she let out.

“Should I tell him, or will you, Y/N?” she asked tauntingly.

“Heeseung,” you murmured against his chest, but he shook his head, glaring at Namsoon.

“Well, isn’t this just so cute.” The girl rolled her eyes. “But she hasn’t told you that she’s the one who’s been shit-talking you for years to the whole school, has she?” Namsoon tilted her head, smirking. “Little Y/N trying to pretend to be something more as Miss Decelis.”

Heeseung licked his lips but didn’t react. He didn’t want to give Namsoon the satisfaction. It was certainly a conversation for later, but not now. “Who the fuck cares?” He feigned nonchalance. “Just get the fuck away from us, Namsoon. Nobody wants you here. You’re just a self-conscious bitch, and it shows. It’s pathetic.”

The offended gasp Namsoon let out made you chuckle against Heeseung’s chest, and he pressed you closer to him, creating a sort of shield between you and the girl who came to the party just to terrorise you.

“Whatever. I’ll just tell everyone else.”

“You won’t be telling anyone anything.” Jay appeared in the door, blocking the path for Namsoon. “Nobody’s gonna believe shit you say because if you haven’t forgotten, you got kicked out of Decelis for bullying.”

“Choose your next actions carefully. Because I have Y/N’s father on speed dial.” Sunghoon showed his phone from behind Jay, peering into the room. Jake was there, too.

That seemed to knock some sense into the girl. You still remembered your father threatening to take legal action against the families of anyone who would dare hurt you in any way. You hated that other people were fighting your battles, but your whole body felt numb the moment you saw Yoo Namsoon.

Her derisive laugh made you look at her. “Did you sleep with all of them? God, Y/N, out of all the things I’d expect from you, homie-hopping is definitely not one of them.”

“It’s hardly homie-hopping if we’re all fine with it.” Jake rolled his eyes. “Now get the fuck out while we’re being nice.”

Stepping to the side to create enough space for Namsoon, they pointed at the door. She glanced at you one last time, her spite seeping through every pore in her body, before finally leaving. “You’re all insane,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Are you okay?” Heeseung let go of you, only for his hands to cup your cheeks, examining your entire face. “She didn’t hurt you or anything, right?”

You shook your head. “She didn’t touch me,” you whispered, practically collapsing in Heeseung’s arms from the imagined lack of oxygen in your lungs. “I think she just wanted to prove she still had an effect on me.”

“Y/N.” Heeseung held you tightly.

“I’m sorry,” you said, shaking your head.

“For what?”

“I’m not really sure.”

“Then don’t be sorry,” he said. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” He should’ve known you were Miss Decelis, now that he thought about it. It explained why the blog centred around you most of the time — and not necessarily in a good way. “I’m the one who should be sorry. For a lot of things.” For ignoring you. For not noticing what you were going through. For refusing to see how amazing you were and making you feel like you were less.

“Yeah. If anything, we’re the ones who should be sorry.” Jay chuckled, approaching you and Heeseung.

They didn’t have to be, though. You already forgave them.

“But we’re here for you now, Y/N.” Jake smiled, stealing a kiss from you in front of everyone. “You can always talk to us. As your friends. Or your boyfriends. Whatever you wanna label it.”

Sunghoon cleared his throat. “Technically, I’m the boyfriend,” he said matter-of-factly, raising his hand.

“Piss off.” Heeseung rolled his eyes.

You giggled, watching them pretending to fight over you. Hopefully, none of you will ever have to explain the relationship to any of your parents.

Good morning, Decelis!

It seems the rumours have reached you all. I guess one day, even this blog would have to come to an end. It is only fitting that it happens now, when the very reason I started this blog for has been resolved. If you can call it that.

I doubt most of you will miss me anyway. XO, Y/N.

tags: @moonpri @strxwbloody @starsenha @chaconadine @in-somnias-world @tmtxtf @missychief1404 @mitmit01

#enhypen #enhypen fic #enhypen ff #enhypen x reader #lee heeseung x reader #heeseung x reader #heeseung fic #sunghoon fic #park sunghoon fic #sunghoon x reader #park jongseong fic #park jongseong x reader #sim jake fic #sim jake x reader #sim jaeyun fic #haia writes

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