#powder x sibling! reader

[pandoraslxna]

pervert!neteyam masturbating and imagine he's fucking reader 🫣

A mighty warriors need

adult Neteyam x female omatikaya reader

Words: 2.2k

Summary: The only trouble Neteyam allows himself to get into, is you.

Warnings: explicit smut, voyeurism, male masturbation, teacher/student dynamic, reader trained for her iknimaya at 18, slight age difference (Neteyam is 28, reader is 20), sexual fantasies

Notes: Just something short while we wait for my precious sun to come back and continue her event <3

Adult Neteyam art was made by @Cinetrix 🩵

Neteyam, for all that he tries to stay out of trouble and follow into his father’s footsteps, has never had a particularly relaxing life, or even one lazy day all to himself.

He has also always been what dad calls an "early bird".

When he was a child, his father told him stories of the time when he was a soldier on earth, how his superiors had called him an early bird too, because he was always the first to wake. Dad said, it‘s a quality that shows of discipline.

And that’s part, if not the main reason, why Neteyam has always raised from his hammock before the very first rays of sun could even cast over the horizon.

Stretching his limbs, his tired bones crack and he has to stifle a chuckle because he knows if mother was awake she would scold him because she dislikes the sound of that. After rolling his hammock together and stuffing it away, he walks over to his siblings, all three of them still sound asleep.

He pulls Tuks blanket up, gives her a little kiss on the forehead and then leans over to tip Lo‘aks chin up so he closes his mouth and rolls over in his sleep. It stops him from snoring, and then Neteyam watches with a fond smile how Kiris brows relax as the annoying sound finally stops.

Dad is now up too. He hears him shuffle around quietly in the dark, then nods his head at him when they pass each other. A silent greeting to not wake the rest of the family, before Neteyam ties his cummerbund around his hips and steps outside.

He knows his father is in no rush to start the day before he had what the human called coffee, a brownish powder brewed in a cup. It’s one of the very few human quirks his old man can’t seem to lay off.

But neither he nor the rest of the family seem to mind. It also gives him time to participate in the sacred morning rituals, offering prayers to Eywa, before he goes to pick fruit for breakfast.

Alongside his father, he then attends council meetings where they discuss matters of governance, strategize for the clan's protection, and ensure the well-being of their community.

As a skilled warrior, Neteyam leads training sessions for younger Na'vi warriors. He prepares his students for their upcoming iknimaya, imparting his knowledge of combat and hunting techniques, survival skills and the importance of harmony with nature, as well as the balance of life that eywa protects.

It’s not everyday, but he also engages in diplomatic meetings with neighboring clans whenever his father is too busy to attend himself, fostering alliances and resolving conflicts. It‘s his diplomacy skills, honed through years of observing his father, that help him navigate discussions and negotiations, that ensure the unity and prosperity of their people, which are also well respected, especially among the olangi clan. The flight on his ikran is short, and it’s barely an hour before he‘s back home.

Evenings are dedicated to spending time with his family. Neteyam joins his parents, siblings and the rest of the clan in sharing a meal, one who’s meat he often participated in hunting the day prior. Engaging in the lively conversations around him has always come naturally to him.

You see, with great responsibilities befitting his impending role, his day was usually filled with numerous duties and commitments, leaving barely any time for him to step out of line even if he wanted to. The only time during his busy day that he made sure was strictly reserved for himself, was the time past eclipse.

As the sun sets and dawn casts its ethereal glow over the forest, he leaves behind the clamor of his responsibilities and disappears far off the village. With agile grace, he climbs onto a tree, finding solace on a sturdy branch that offers a panoramic view of the forest below.

Seated high off the ground, Neteyam takes a deep breath, inhaling the fragrance of the forest. He closes his eyes, allowing the soothing sounds of nature to envelop him, the rustling leaves, the distant calls of animals, before he opens them again. Right on cue, he hears the sweet humming sound coming from below him, where a small river ripples.

He can't help it. He should perhaps try harder to help it, but he cannot quite summon the willpower.

His position gives him the perfect view of the main reason he occupied himself here in the first place. It was something he just had to do to maintain his focus and equilibrium. It even reached a point where he found himself eager for it, looking forward to this rare moment he had all to himself. The only time where he allowed himself to act upon his own desires. And it was the rush of adrenaline and the excitement of doing something so forbidden and dishonorable that bought him here day after day.

This spot here in the forest, this river below– it was your favored bathing spot. And Neteyam always made sure he had front row seats to the little private show you so unknowingly put on just for him.

The thing that Neteyam had with you, was that you‘ve always been trouble. The only kind of trouble he ever allowed himself to get into.

Logically, he’s known it since the first day of your training, when you were one of his numeyu [students]. He’d watched you undercut his authority a little more with every lesson, and underneath the spark of annoyance that had flooded his veins, he remembers thinking: this one’s going to be trouble, in the kind of way that made him want to smile. He hadn’t, at the time– but he had wanted to, and that was no small feat.

Now, you’re trouble in a different kind of way. Still in a way that makes him smile, but now... you’re the kind of trouble that he thinks could fuck up every single rule and regulation he’s ever made to keep himself disciplined, and he’s fairly sure that he’d let you if you asked nicely.

Fuck, he’d probably let you if you didn’t ask him at all.

His throat feels tight as he glances down below, his hungry gaze landing on you just the moment you untie your loincloth and let it slide down to your ankles. His eyes travel over every inch of your exposed skin, every curve of your body, as you step into the shallow water.

Eywa, you’re a real sight.

Splashing some of the water onto your chest, he watches every little drop roll over your pretty tits, down to your navel. It’s like you’re making a show out of this, bending down to collect more water into your palms in a way that gives him the perfect view of your pretty pussy from behind.

Great mother, the things he would do to press his face between your thighs, smell your arousal, to taste the wetness.

Neteyam can’t help but let his hand skim over his chest, his toned abs and down past the cord that holds his loincloth together. His cock is hard and aching beneath the fabric, begging to be touched. He feels his heart speed up in anticipation, so he shuffles out of his clothes and wraps a hand around his shaft.

Squeezing the tip of his cock, where it turns from blue into a faint hue of purple, he forces the very first droplets of pre-cum to form and spill over his knuckles. There’s a tightness, a warmth that swells inside him and it gets even worse when he inhales deeply and your scent fills his nostrils and he bites down on his lip to hold in a moan.

It’s the same scent that was right under his nose when he had trained you not many years ago. When he had guided your hands to hold your bow, corrected your stance by pressing himself against your back and straightening your spine. It’s the same scent, just so much sweeter now that he has his cock in his hand.

He then rolls your name in his mouth, testing the syllables in a hushed whisper. He can envision moaning it, wants to moan it if he can be completely honest.

Neteyam watches you use different soaps and kinds of oils you made out of herbs and tree sap to rub into your skin. Your hands cup your breasts, palms running over your perky nipples until they’re shining in said oil and he imagines those perfect tits bounce right in front of his face while you’re riding him.

It’s a mouth watering image in front of his minds eye. You on top, your back arched, your hips rolling. And Neteyam, rolling right back, on his elbows, mouthing your breasts, your collar bone, feeling the way you would squeeze around his length as you ride him.

He runs a ghosting touch down his stomach, the vision of your hand doing it. The imaginary weight of you on his lap grinding down on his hard member to put some friction onto your needy clit might have made him come when he was younger, but now he just groaned and let one hand wander to his balls to gently squeeze and knead them. His other hand strokes faster, tugging from base to tip in a quick rhythm that makes his eyes flutter closed for a moment.

Neteyam can’t seem to keep them away from you, though, so he quickly opens them again. Feeling the pressure build and the heat start to flood his system, he attentively watched your delicate hands roam your body to further massage the oils and natural soaps into your skin.

He could almost feel those fingers on his cock, kneading the flesh of his inner thighs, wandering up and down, gripping him tightly, urging him on. He could imagine exactly how your hips would circle against his groin, the rub and retreat designed to tease his cock until he couldn’t fight it anymore and just started mindlessly rutting against your body.

Stepping deeper into the river, a content little moan leaves your parted lips as the water encircles your middle. It’s just now that he sees you have a wooden bowl with you. It floats on top of the water’s surface, before you dip it into the water and then empty it over your head to rins yourself off. Neteyam imagines the feel of it sluicing over your shoulders, your breasts, your belly, soothing tired and aching muscles. He imagines the warmth of the water flowing further down, dripping off your rounded hips, your mound. Stroking himself faster, he imagines running his tongue along your skin to catch every drop of water, imagines how rich it would taste of you. It’s such a perverted thought, so shamefully dirty that the sheer thought of voicing those fantasies makes his cock throb so hard that his breath catches in his throat.

It’s so dirty– he is so dirty.

If only you knew how many times he came into his fist with your name on his lips and those thoughts in his head. Neteyams face burns hot with shame, and he doesn't need a mirror to know it's suffused with a purplish blush.

Shuddering, then moaning softly, he stares as if hypnotized at those wonderfully plump lips of yours.

Eywa, he was really losing the battle with his own arousal. His thoughts jumped from one filthy image to the other, it was hard for him to focus on any part of your body for more than a minute because there was always something new, something hotter, something he wanted more desperately.

And now it were your lips. Those lips that would feel so incredible wrapped around his length, he knows it. A mouthy little thing like you surely was good for more than just talking back. Knowing you, you would definitely give it your all as you sucked his cock. He knows you would work through the stretch in your throat like a champ, would take him in deeper and deeper despite the way the fat tip of his cock would make you gag and bring tears to your eyes. You would suck him like your life depended on it, he was sure of it. And you would enjoy it. Would milk him dry over and over again, hell you would definitely beg him to let you suck him off.

Neteyam felt his orgasm overtake him, heat surging through his body like white fire. His hand moved faster, quick strokes that made his chest heave with desperation, chasing that pleasure high like prey, but then you– you turned around, and fuck, your gaze suddenly lands right on him. So direct, if his head was anywhere near clear enough to think, he would’ve realized that you must’ve known that he was there this whole time. But it was already too late now.

Eyes dark with lust, Neteyam held your eyes captive as you then wordlessly pushed him into his orgasm with a seductive little wink, watching with a growing smirk how his back arched and rope after rope of cum splattered against his palm.

See? You’re trouble. Trouble, in the worst of ways.

[coryosbaby]

Can you give me something with barry from obx x innocent!reader and she's like rafe's little Sister and he like tells rafe that she needs to stay with him until he gets ALL his money plsss girls I'm deprived of my word porn 😫 ( Add some smut pleaseeeeeeee )

Honey <🧡 >

Barry (Outer Banks)/reader

Warning: slight dubcon, kidnapping, blackmail, mention of guns and drug use (reader gets high), slight age gap? But it’s not really important + the reader is of age // forced oral (m receiving), throatfucking, fingering, the word ‘bitch’ a lot, pussy slapping, p n v, dumbification, loss of virginity, sir kink, sub! Reader, dom! Barry

“Please let me go!”

Your voice is desperate, as Barry shoves you inside of his home. You almost trip over your Mary Jane platforms when your foot hits a step wrong, but Barry catches you with one of his strong arms and pulls you up.

“You know a deal’s a deal, sweet thing’.”

His voice has a slight southern drawl, and you squeak when he pushes you down onto the couch. “Now stay your ass right there.”

You don’t even know how you got into this situation. One minute you’re having drinks with a few friends from your private school, and then the next minute you’re getting dragged away by your brother’s drug dealer. You don’t know exactly what he means by deal. You had never made one with him.

You two had spoken a few times when he spent his time at the Cameron residence when everyone in your family besides you and Rafe were gone. Rafe, being the untrustworthy shit that he is, surprisingly doesn’t despise you like he does your other siblings. In fact, you’ve become his favorite and most important one.

But clearly not important enough, since he’s probably got you involved in his cocaine dealing stuff.

“Did Rafe…” you watch as Barry rummages around in his kitchen cabinets, clearly paying no mind as you speak. “Did Rafe make a deal with you? Or something? I-I have money, I have lot of it—“

“Thirty thousand?”

The number makes your eyebrows raise in surprise. Thirty thousand dollars.. for coke? A“few lines”, as Rafe had called it. Yeah right.

“I-I don’t—“

“Well until then, I’d advise you to keep that stupid little mouth shut.”

His demand scares you, a bit. In fact, this whole situation does. Barry had always been nice to you. Maybe a bit too nice, if anyone from outside the two of you saw the situation (Rafe certainly did). But regardless, you don’t know what’s going to happen if your brother doesn’t get that money.

Barry seems to finally find what he’s looking for inside a wooden drawer. When he pulls it out, it’s a gun.

Bile rises in your throat when you see the weapon, the safety off and, you assume, packed with bullets. He throws it down onto the table in front of you.

“See that?” He asks. You nod heavily, tears beginning to well in your eyes.

“Yes sir.”

You say it dumbly. You don’t know what else to say. Barry’s grin is wide when the words leave your lips.

“You try to run,” Barry starts. His tone shouldn’t be so tantalizing, but it is. “And I’ll use it. So don’t you fuckin’ dare.”

You nod, numb with fear. Barry picks up the gun and moves around the table to sit beside you. He’s exponentially close, his shoulder touching yours as he leans back against the fabric of the couch.

You don’t know what to do, really. What exactly are you supposed to do when your brother’s drug dealer is holding you for ransom? But you play with the hem of your skirt as Barry reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a bag of shiny white powder.

Your face scrunches up and you shiver. He uses his fingers to make a sloppy trail of cocaine on the hilt of the gun. You expect him to do the line he had created, but instead he just shrugs and stares at you for a moment with a glazed look.

“Why don’t you take some?“

You don’t think it’s a request. Your bottom lip catches in between your teeth. You sniffle.

“I don’t want to.”

“Cmon, now,” his tone is like honey but you can hear the threat. “Be a good girl.”

You look down at the drug, stark white against the metal of the shiny weapon and back to him, but you figure you have no choice. You just hope and pray that the addict gene didn’t make its way to you like it did Rafe as you press your nose against the gun. It’s right over Barry’s lap; if you weren’t so plagued with innocence, you would notice how close your face is to his aching prick as you peer over his lap. You jump when you feel the man’s hands twist themselves in your hair.

“Atta girl.”

The drug isn’t something you’re used to. You’re definitely not the type to drink, let alone do coke; but snorting it doesn’t seem as hard as you expected. Your brain is a little fuzzy once you lift your head up.

Barry puts the gun down on the table, and pours some more coke onto the glass in front of him. He snorts up a line, and lets out a low groan. And then he moves back and his hands move to your neck. He twists your strands of hair with two long fingers.

“You’re a pretty little thing, you know that?”

You flush. All the while your high begins to kick in, and you exhale shakily. Your thighs clench together, and you don’t really understand why. “T-Thank you..”

Barry chuckles. His lips are really close to your ear and you notice that he smells really nice. It’s making you a bit dizzy.

“Such good manners for such a good girl.” He praises. You gulp, the feeling of his hand suddenly on your leg making you jump. The man notices, and frowns. “Cmon now, sweetness. I don’t bite.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” You squeak out. He grins, his fingers inching up higher to ghost over the inner part of your thighs.

“Think we can keep ourselves a little busy before your brother gets here, don’t you think?”

You nod, dumbly, as his fingers ghost over your Cherry print panties underneath your skirt. It’s a new sensation; you’ve never been touched like this. You’ve heard it’s what people that are married do, people that love and care for each other. You don’t think this is how you’re supposed to do it.

“W-Wait, Barry—“

But it’s too late now, because his fingers are rubbing your clit in slow, soft circles. You let out a tiny moan, your legs automatically parting against your own will. You can feel an ache bubbling up in your core, your little button starting to throb.

“You’re so wet, goddamn.”

It comes out low and throaty, and when you look down at Barry’s hand you can see that he’s palming his cock through his basketball shorts. You don’t know why, exactly, but your mouth begins to water as you watch the outline of him through the fabric.

“W-Wet?”

Barry breathes out a laugh at your innocence, giving a teasing flick to the bud by thumping it with his thumb and forefinger. You squirm, a small noise of pleasure rippling out of you.

“You’re cunt, darlin’.” He says. “It’s wet. Happens when you start thinking about dirty things.”

You frown as your wetness drips on his hand. “‘M not… ‘m not dirty! I swear!”

“I think you’re lyin’ to me… I think you are.“ His fingertip teasingly ghosts over your hole. “— but that’s okay. I like dirty girls.”

His middle finger sinks inside you to the hilt. You gasp, the sensation making your hips lift off the couch when he curls it. You moan, breathy.

“That— that feels good..”

“I know, angel. And you’re gonna take another one for me, aren’t ya?”

“I-“ you hesitate, but another swipe against your clit with Barry’s thumb has you keening against the couch. “Yeah! Yes, yes, anything, I’ll take anything!”

His forefinger slips in, next. It’s tight fit, but nothing you can’t handle. And when Barry puts you into a chokehold with one of his strong arms, he drags your body into his lap. His bulge hits your ass and you let out a mewl, his fingers never leaving you. His pace increases, his other hand moving from your throat to your skirt. He lifts it up and pulls your underwear to the side so he can watch his fingers move in and out of you.

“These panties are so cute,” he whispers into your ear. Your eyes roll back when your sopping wet cunt begins to make harsh gushing noises. “It’s too bad they’re getting ruined, huh?”

You nod, not a single thought left in your hazy brain. Your ruffle socked feet accidentally kick the table from the pleasure making your body spasm. You barely even acknowledge it, but Barry’s unused arm goes to your neck again and he holds down on each side of your throat.

“Don’t break my shit, bitch,” he growls. “You and your brother owe me enough already.”

“I-I’m sorry!” It comes out choked, scared, and dripping of pleasure all at once. His thumb moves to your clit again. You can feel something inside you building up, a wad of tension threatening to release. Your brows furrow in confusion and you become worried. What if Barry gets mad at you for feeling this way?

“S-Sir—“ your hole throbs mercilessly, face scrunched up. “Barry— think ‘m gonna.. gonna pee! S-Stop!”

“No you’re not, baby,” He chuckles. “You’re gonna cum— only good girls cum. So wet my fuckin shorts, dollface.”

Your eyes roll back as your orgasm washes over you, all of your limbs seizing up with tension. Your mind becomes foggy, and you scream as you begin to squirt all over your panties and onto Barry’s thighs.

“That’s it, honey. Shit, look at you…”

You sob, overwhelmed from all the sensation flooding your psyche. You stay against Barry, the warmth of his body bringing you comfort as your eyes droop. But you know you can’t sleep yet; you won’t allow yourself to.

Barry presses a kiss to your neck, begins gesturing for you to get up. You move up on shaky legs. And as bad as it is, you frown when his body leaves yours.

“D-Did I do something wrong, sir?”

He doesn’t reply; he simply presses his lips to yours, harsh and full of want. His strong arms go around your waist and his fingers dance along the hem of your shirt. He moves the fabric up, and up, until your bra is the only thing left on your upper half. You let him do it.

He palms your breasts and you gasp at the sensation. You’ve always been a bit sensitive there.

“Take this off,” he says, gesturing to the cups holding your tits in place. You obey, shyly unclipping your bra and revealing your puffy nipples to him. His mouth goes down to suckle one of the buds into his mouth. He hums around it, scrapes his teeth against the sensitive nerves and then begins unzipping your skirt.

“Any guy ever touched you?” He asks, as your soaked panties become the only thing covering your body. You’re incredibly shy, now.

“No— no one has.”

“Good.” And then he’s taking your panties off, sliding them down your legs and leaving you completely in the nude. It’s invading, incredibly so, but your pussy begins to ache for another orgasm again.

“Sit back down.” Barry demands.

You obey and he sits down next to you. The material of the couch is cold against your skin as he grabs your hair and pulls you towards his body with a rough hand. You squirm, trying to find a position that makes you comfortable, and settling with facing him on your knees. He loosens the drawstring of his shorts as he looks down at you with lust glittering in his eyes. You aren’t sure where to put your hands, so you decide to rest one on Barry’s thigh and the other on the couch. He reaches into his now loosened shorts and pulls out his cock.

You gawk, the sight of a dick being an unfamiliar image to you. He’s girthy, perfectly thick and a bit long. Precum pearls at the head of him as he watches your pleading eyes. He grabs your hair, firm.

You gasp when he shoves your face against him. Your ass is up in the air now, your tits pressed flush against his thigh. His tip is wet against your cheek, smearing precum all over your nose and underneath your eyes.

“Feel that?” He purrs.

You nod, dazed. “Yeah..” your hand reaches to touch it, curiosity peaking your interest. “It’s— its really pretty.”

“Yeah?” He gathers a string of his pre onto his finger, brings it up to your face and rubs it teasingly against the opening of your lips while you busy yourself with playing with the base of him. “Get a taste, baby.”

Your face turns a deep cherry red as you shyly stick your tongue out. His arousal coats your tongue, and as disgusting as you feel you can’t help but love the taste of him.

“‘S good,” you murmur. “I— I wan’ more of it.”

“I bet you want my cum all inside, don’t you?”

Your bottom lip turns down and you cutely raise your eyebrows together. “What’s cum? You keep saying that…”

He laughs, genuinely laughs. Your stupidity is amusing to him.

“Dressing in all those short little skirts and lookin’ at me with those pouty lips and you still don’t understand what I’m saying? You really are dumb.”

You shake your head, the words “I’m not dumb” falling from your lips over and over as you lean down and lick up some more of his pre to satiate yourself. Barry’s tongue runs along his bottom lip as he watches you, a large hand going down to stroke your hair out of your face.

“Cum is the stuff that comes out when you get that really good feelin’. “ he explains. “You came earlier, so I bet that little pussy’s coated in it right now.”

You bite your lip, kitten licking his cock once more and then pulling back.

“I wanna make you cum.”

He grabs your hair and pulls you back down. “I know.”

You whine, and then he’s groaning and bucking his dripping length against your lips.

“God, I know that mouth is—“ he doesn’t even hesitate to find the opening of your mouth and slip his tip inside. The taste is odd to you, but not inherently unpleasant. He’s musky and you can smell the scent of his arousal radiating off of him. “—so goddamn good. Fuck yeah, that’s it.”

You moan around him, your mouth swallowing him up more as the weight of his aching prick makes you more and more turned on. You down him as much as you can, his girth making the corners of your glossed lips burn.

“Knew a little kook girl like you would be good at taking dick,” Barry drawls. His hips thrust against your intensely, heavy balls slapping against your chin and spit leaking down them from your gaping mouth. “Cock taste good, baby? Huh?”

The choked moan and the string of drool pooling out of your mouth and down your neck tells him all he needs to know. He chuckles. “Yeah, I bet it does. Drooling little bitch.”

You know he’s right. And as bad as it is, the humiliation that he’s bestowing upon you is pleasurable. Your wetness is dripping down your thighs at his words.

You moan, moving his hands off your head so you can move off of his cock and begin suckling his balls. He moans loud and his fingernails dig back into your scalp again. You’re desperate, desperate to feel his skin and his smell and his taste, and you’re whining while you lick his heavy sack with hard strokes of your tongue.

“God, such a sweet fuckin’ slut. You’re doin’ so good.”

You whimper, downing his cock again and gurgling around him. Your pussy is soaked, and you try to move it around on the material of the couch to get friction. Barry grins when he sees your desperation.

“Needa cum?”

You pull off of him with a pop, eyes looking up at him pleadingly. “Yes sir.”

His fingers touch your swollen clit. Teasingly, just to see you squirm as he shoves his cock in your mouth again. And when he begins to rub harshly, you begin to buck your hips against him. Your second orgasm is already nearing, and when it happens you shake and choke around his length. He gives your pussy a light slap and yanks you off of him. Your mascara is smeared, lipstick staining the edges of your mouth and your hair stuck to your forehead in messy strands. Barry pulls you up to give you another kiss. And then he pulls you onto his lap again.

And in the midst of your lips on his, you hear his phone ring.

It’s on the nightstand next to the couch. An easy reach for him, and as he grabs the phone you see the words ‘COUNTRY CLUB’ flash across the screen in bold white letters.

Your eyes widen, shaking your head as Barry chuckles out, “damn, sweetness. It’s your brother.”

“Please… d-don’t let him—“ you cry, exasperated, as Barry presses his bare cock to your entrance. “Don’t let him know what I did— please! He’ll be so mad at me…”

The older man grins as he holds you down onto his cock; not quite in just yet, but it makes you quiver thinking about him stretching you out. He mocks you with a bullying tone.

“Aww, don’t worry honey.” He coos. “I won’t tell your big brother you’ve been a bad girl. Just let me pick up this call.”

Relief almost washes over you, if it wasn’t for the fact that Barry is still pressed flush against you. It’s making it hard for you to concentrate. He presses the green button, signaling that he’s answered the call.

“Where is she?”

Rafe’s voice sounds on the other line, and he’s extremely pissed.

“Perfectly fine, country club. In fact, I think she’s having the time of her life right now” Barry quips, as if you’re not dripping down his cock with a look of shame on your face. “I just need my money..”

He pauses, watching as your eyes furrow closed and you begin to move against him. You’re lost in your own pleasure now. You can’t help it. The sensation of his cock rubbing against your clit has you clenching and aching to release. You bury your face in his neck, trying to contain your whimpers.

“Look, man,” Rafe starts. He doesn’t like the way those words spewed from Barry’s lips. It makes him uneasy.

“I’ll— I’ll get your money, okay? Just— promise me you won’t hurt her. Please.”

“Oh,” Barry lets out a laugh. “We’re far from that.”

He lifts your hips with one of his hands. His tip begins to probe your entrance. You gasp as your walls sink down on him.

“In fact, I think I can drown out your little debt and set you up for another month.”

[smileysuh]

ice cold, cabin fever - part 1

🌙 staring. Seungcheol & Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. "come on, let’s just go back to snakes and ladders and you can pretend we’re not snowed in with no firewood and a dude you hate locked in the bathroom."

cw/ tw. threesome, daddy issues, mean/tsundere cheol, wet dreams, spanking, marking, dirty talk, choking, unprotected sex, pain kink, dacryphilia, breast play, praise, degradation, fingering, oral, hand job, blow job, multiple orgasms, overstim, edging, orgasm denial, manhandling, size kink, cumplay, finger sucking, spit roasting, hair pulling, voyeurism, I petnames. (hers) princess, bitch, whore, baby (s.coups) cheol, douche, dick, daddy (mingyu) gyu.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 25.9k

🍭 aus. e2l, s2l, step brothers Jihan, non idol, ski resort, roomies, etc...

☀️ mlist + an. so when I tell you I know practically nothing about skiing... also, the recent soop episodes have been giving gyucheol and jihan and I'm dying. I other inspo: 🙂 🙂 🙂 I pls note. this fic has so much dialogue, it exceeds the number of paragraphs allowed in a tumblr post, so it will be split into 2 parts posted at the same time I read the whole thing in one post + the bonus by subscribing to my patreon and clicking here

Prologue: 

“You guys aren’t going to believe this,” Jeonghan says as he enters the main area of the flat he shares with his brother and two best friends.

Three sets of eyes turn to him, and it’s Joshua who takes a shot in the dark and asks, “Did you get chlamydia again?”

“Aish, fuck off,” Jeonghan picks up a pillow to launch at his brother, “I just got off the phone with mom you idiot.”

“Ouch, since when are you telling mommy about your STI results?” Seungcheol teases, earning himself a pillow as well, that he easily bats out of the air.

“Tell us,” Mingyu urges seriously, “what did your mom say?”

“Only that our new step-sister decided to join us for the destination wedding, super last minute,” Jeonghan explains, taking a seat next to the youngest and sweetest of his friends.

“Did your mom tell her that they already gave up the cabin?” Seungcheol’s heart drops to his stomach, thoughts of powdered snow and skiing swirling on the periphery of his mind.

“Fuck if I know,” Jeonghan shrugs. “She sounds like a bit of a bitch if I’m being honest- sorry Gyu, but it looks like you’ll be giving up your bed.”

“We’re sharing a cabin with her?” The maknae’s jaw drops.

“Well she’s definitely not staying with us,” Joshua stiffens in his seat, “I don’t know what weird step-sibling porn you’re into Gyu, but we’re not that kind of family.”

“Listen,” Seungcheol leans forward, eager to keep the peace, “none of us have met her before- but your mom really likes her dad- let’s just hope she’s as nice as he is… I really doubt she’s a bitch. If it comes down to it, I can give up my bed, there’s a pullout in the cabin too, right? We’ll make it work.”

The glances all four men exchange betray how unsure they all are, and Seungcheol only wishes he was as positive as he makes himself out to be. 

1: Thursday - Arrival

“Y/n! You made it!” your dad’s excitement should be contagious, but as you haul your suitcase into the lobby of the ski resort, you’re much too exhausted to mirror his attitude.

In fact, you’d bet you look exactly how you feel; done with this vacation before it’s even started.

Despite this, you accept the hug from your dad, trying to relax a little before he lets you go again. “Was your flight very long?”

“Too long,” you sigh, taking a deep breath before returning his question with “and you?”

“Too long,” your dad laughs. “But you can rest easy now, the hard part is over.”

Is it? 

“I’m so excited for you to meet Suelki,” he continues, “and her two sons.” 

“I’m excited too,” you really force a smile this time, trying your best to look sincere.

“Good,” your dad nods, beginning to lead you through the resort. “So listen, this trip is kind of like my honeymoon- so we really don’t expect to be seeing that much of you- Suelki and I have a suite in the actual hotel itself, but I think I mentioned to you over the phone that we booked two of the rustic cabins-”

“Yeah, you mentioned that,” your grip on your suitcase handle tightens.

“Because you originally said you wouldn’t be coming, we gave the second cabin up to Suelki’s boys’ roommates- and unfortunately, the entire resort is booked up this week, so we couldn’t get you your own room.”

“Right-” He’d mentioned something along these lines during your quick phonecall when you’d changed your mind about coming on the trip, and you’re eager to see what fix he has for this.

“Each cabin had a pullout though, so you’ll be staying in one of them, and whether it’s with Suelki’s boys’ or their friends, I really hope you use this trip to get to know your new step brothers.”

Your mouth feels dry, heart jittering in your chest at the concept of sharing a cabin for a week with two boys- 

“The wedding is on Saturday,” your dad and you have reached a door leading outside; icy air hits your face when he opens it. “And the cabins you’re looking for are the last two down this road here- cabin 6 and cabin 7. Just follow the string lights-”

“Are you-” you swallow. “You’re not going to take me out to where I’m staying?” You tighten your grip on your heavy luggage, eying the snowy path.

“Sorry darling, but your plane was late, and you’ve arrived at a bad time- Suelki and I have massages scheduled in-” he checks his watch, “ten minutes? I really have to go- but you’re a strong, capable girl, you’ll find the cabins no problem.”

This is exactly the type of behaviour from your father that you’re used to. 

Part of you had expected something to be different- you’d been hoping that the wedding jitters would make him more inclined to be compassionate to you- but it looks like he’s as intent on letting you go about it yourself as he’s ever been.

After your long flight, and now this- you’re really questioning if you should have come on this trip at all.

2: Thursday - Arrival

“Joshie, come look at this,” Jeonghan urges, holding his tea tighter while gazing out the small cabin window.

“What is it?” his brother sighs, putting down his book but remaining seated on the couch.

“Some girl is dragging her suitcase up the path.” 

He can’t help but snicker. With the road covered in snow for the winter season, accessing the cabins isn’t the easiest task in the world. 

Having been here before, the brothers had packed accordingly, and carrying their duffles had been substantially easier than the struggle Jeonghan is currently witnessing. 

“Oh shit.”

“What?” Now Joshua stands up.

“She’s coming to the door- shit-” Jeonghan pulls away from the window roughly, and hot liquid spills over the edge of his mug, making contact with his fingers. “Shit!” he shakes his hand out-

“Must be the step sister?” Joshua suggests, ignoring the elder man tending to his reddening skin. 

“Must be,” Jeonghan hisses, putting his tea down just as there’s a knock on the door.

The elder of the two takes a seat on the couch, pulling his hoodie sleeve down to cover his hand while Joshua answers the door. 

“Hi-” your voice carries into the small space, and Jeonghan silently urges Joshua to move to the side so he can get a better look at you. “Are you Jeonghan?”

“No, Joshua,” he shifts, allowing you to see into the cabin, “that’s Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan lifts his unharmed hand, wiggling his fingers at you and offering a smile. 

His eyes quickly take you in, assessing your cute outfit- and its lack of weather appropriateness. He finds himself stifling a laugh again, shaking his head to snap himself out of it before saying loudly, “Aren’t you going to let our new step-sister in?”

You look like a bunny entering a wolf’s den, and you stop just past the threshold, allowing the door to be closed behind you.

“I guess you guys know about the cabin situation?” Your first words aren’t something Jeonghan had particularly expected from you-

You’re much more forward than your appearance gives you credit for, and he begins to wonder if his little bunny has teeth. 

“Cabin situation?” Joshua comes to join Jeonghan on the couch, reaching for his book.

“Yeah-” you swallow, “I heard my cabin got given up to two of your friends?”

“Right, that cabin situation,” Jeonghan and Joshua exchange glances, and they leave space for you to continue.

“I was thinking,” you shift awkwardly on your feet, a chunk of snow shifts off your boot and onto the wood floor, “uh- you guys aren’t really going to make me share a cabin with two of your friends, right?” 

“What do you mean?” Joshua cocks his head, and Jeonghan leans back in his seat, enjoying the scene playing out in front of him.

“Just that-” you release a deep sigh. “Guys- I’m going to be honest, I’m really tired- is there no possible way one or even both of your friends could- I don’t know… crash in this cabin with you guys?”-  there’s a beat of silence, Jeonghan and Joshua exchange glances - “like, that’s a pullout couch, right? So- at least one could stay here-”

Joshua opens his mouth to respond, but Jeonghan places a hand on his knee to silence him, taking the lead in these new family negotiations; “You might be able to convince one of them to stay here,” he tells you, “but I doubt you’d be more comfortable alone with a strange man you’ve never met, than you would be having two.”

“I mean…” you look between your new step-siblings, “these guys are your friends, right? It’s not like they’re going to- erm… try anything?”

“You’re right,” Jeonghan nods sympathetically, “let’s go over there and you can see which one you prefer to spend a week alone with.”

You shift again, releasing a groan. “I know we just met- but I’ve gotta say, you’re a bit of an asshole, you know that?”

Jeonghan laughs.

“He’s right though,” Joshua sighs. “As unfortunate as it is that your cabin got given up, there’s no chance both of our friends are going to give up their beds to sleep on a pullout in here with us.” He stands up. “I saw you were struggling with your bag earlier- I’ll carry it for you, we can go to the next cabin over and discuss the situation with Cheol and Mingyu-”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” you open the door, holding your suitcase tightly, “I’m a big girl, I’ll handle this myself.”

The new brothers watch you leave the cabin, and then Joshua heads to the window, eyes following you as you trudge down the path back to the main road again. 

“Is she still struggling?” Jeonghan asks.

Joshua lets out something between a laugh and a sigh, then he nods. “She’s really struggling.”

3: Thursday - Arrival

“Is that your stomach growling?” Cheol groans, distracted from the Christmas film he’s watching for what must be the third time-

“I’m sorry-” Mingyu whines, hand rubbing his tummy in slow circles, “you know how I get when we go skiing-”

“Then eat more at dinner next time,” the elder man snaps, grabbing the remote to turn the sound up in the hopes it will drown out his friend’s stomach, “and make some ramen or something.”

“I’m too lazy, I can’t get up,” the large man sprawled on the couch groans, his voice switching to something more on the girly side when he says “oppa, make me ramen? We can have Netflix and ramen?”

“Aish-” Seungcheol reaches out to bat his friend’s foot.

Mingyu is the baby of their apartment back home, and all three of the men born in 95 try not to make a habit of indulging him in maknae privileges. In fact, Mingyu often ends up being the one who cooks and cleans, but Seungcheol will never admit that to anyone.

“Stop complaining and watch your movie,” Seungcheol urges, eyes returning to the screen, where Jim Carrey’s Grinch is having a similar meltdown to Mingyu’s.

A knock at the door stuns both men, their heads whipping towards the sound- then Mingyu is jumping off the couch, as if he wasn’t just claiming to be a lazy bum less than a minute ago. 

“Who is it?” Cheol groans, leaning back against the pillows, stretching his tired arms out in front of him. 

He’s never going to get through this movie if there keeps being distractions-

“Shh- it’s a girl-” Mingyu’s whispered response is another shock to Cheol’s system, and he suddenly finds himself sitting up in his seat.

“Well, answer the door!” he whispers back.

Mingyu follows through with the command, and a moment later he’s greeting you with a “Hello?”

“Uh, hi? Are you… Cheol?” 

“No,” Mingyu steps to the side, “he is.”

Seungcheol blinks at you, taking you in.

He’s definitely never met you before, so how is it you know his name- 

How is it you know the name that only his friends use?

“Then that makes you… Mingyu?” 

You’re not even looking at Seungcheol anymore, your eyes have slipped over him and returned to the large man in front of you faster than Cheol can even clock-

“That’s right,” Mingyu nods, then, “wait! You must be the step-sister!”

“That’s me,” you sigh. “The step-sister.”

“Come in,” Mingyu urges you, “and let me take your bag, I bet you’re tired from your flight-”

Seungcheol rolls his eyes, setting the remote down. It’s unlikely he’ll be returning to the movie anytime soon, and he supposes he should be friendly with you- despite his exhaustion from a long day on the slopes.

“Did you drag your suitcase all the way through the snow?” Mingyu asks, blatantly bewildered at your behavior. 

“Uh huh,” you nod, closing the door behind you and reaching down to take off your boots.

“No one helped you?” Mingyu’s tone makes the whole thing seem like blasphemy, and Cheol watches the way he fusses over you, setting your bag at the foot of his bed before rushing to help you take off your jacket-

“No one,” you confirm. “Joshua offered, but- I managed by myself, like always.”

“So you stopped at the other cabin first?” Seungcheol confirms, “Met Hannie and Josh-”

Your eyes meet, and then Seungcheol finds himself looking at your lips-

“Yeah,” you tear your gaze away, turning to Mingyu when you explain, “wanted to talk with them about bed arrangements first-”

“You can have mine,” Mingyu offers, flashing you an earnest smile.

“Really?” your eyes widen, and you look between the two men again. “You’re not uh… too big for it?”

Seungcheol feels like he’s been hit in the chest. 

If you’d had asked your question without looking directly at him, he might have been able to convince himself you weren’t insinuating anything- but it’s clear what you’re saying. It’s clear you’re clocking him as being smaller than his younger friend, clear you’re inadvertantly suggesting that as the shorter man - Cheol - should sleep on the couch.

A month ago, Cheol had suggested the very same thing, thinking you’d be some nice girl he could give his bed to.

But now? 

He wouldn’t give you his bed if your life depended on it. 

“It’s okay,” Mingyu is quick to assure you, “you can have my bed. Here, have a seat, we’re watching a Christmas movie-  did your flight serve you dinner? Are you hungry?”

“Starved,” you sigh, collapsing onto the couch, taking the corner Mingyu had inhabited earlier. 

“I’ll make us some ramen,” Mingyu tells you. “Ramen always goes well with Christmas movies.”

Seungcheol notes the way you smile at Mingyu’s words. 

He feels invisible, and most of all, bitter. He’s not happy about any of this, not the way you’d taken a hit at his pride, nor Mingyu’s new burst of energy and overly friendly demeanor.

Picking up the remote again, Seungcheol hits play, and he hopes nothing else sets him off tonight, or he just might explode.

4: Friday - morning

Waking up is slow at first, and then it hits you all at once. You sit up, clutching the quilt to cover your body while blinking away the last of your drowsiness, eyes acclimatizing to the soft glow of the room.

Sunlight is coming through the cabin shades, and you realize two things very quickly. First, that you’re alone, and second, that you’re not where you’d fallen asleep last night.

After settling in and eating your ramen, you’d gotten comfortable on the couch. The movie hadn’t truly captured your interest, and you’d begun to doze off with the intention of waking up when the film was complete to move to the bed- 

But you have no recollection of being woken up.

You hadn’t even had any dreams. You’d been so exhausted from a day of traveling that you’d blacked out, and now, you’re left with confusion and body aches.

Someone must have carried you to bed- 

You hope it was Mingyu.

When you look down, you see you’re still dressed in your travel outfit, so the first thing you decide to do is explore the small cabin and find the shower.

Part of you is grateful the men you’re rooming with allowed you to sleep. It makes finding a routine easier. You take your time in the shower, allowing yourself to relax a little, and you consider what your day might look like.

You guess the men are on the slopes, as the skis that had been propped next to the door when you’d arrived are gone, and you decide exercise might be exactly what you need.

Besides, you’re at a ski resort, skiing seems like an obvious choice- although you’re not quite sure how it will work, seeing as you haven’t brought your own equipment-

You begin looking around the cabin for a resort map- and you’re so busy looking in all the hard places you almost miss the glaringly obvious piece of paper resting on the coffee table under a set of keys. 

Your heart lurches in your chest. You pocket the keys and open the paper to find it’s the resort pamphlet you’ve been searching for. 

Along with a map of the mountain, someone has taken the time to circle cabin 7, draw a line to the main hotel, and circled another section, which has been labeled ‘ski rentals’ in handwriting that’s just barely legible. 

There’s no other writing to indicate which man has left this for you, so you decide to assume it’s Mingyu.

Cheol had barely talked to you last night. He’d given off cold vibes; a man with walls built up around him. 

You truly can’t imagine that the quiet, brooding man had stopped to write on a map and leave you keys.

And honestly? You don’t want to imagine it.

It’s much safer to identify one of your roommates as a tall, white knight, and the other as a dark entity you’ll have to suffer through for a week. 

It makes it easier to plan on ignoring Cheol. 

5: Friday - afternoon

Today is a good day for Seungcheol. 

He’d been worried that your arrival would mean babysitting duty, so when you’d slept in and he’d convinced Gyu to leave you be, he’d been nearly ecstatic. 

He’d clocked you as a non-skier the moment you’d arrived without the correct equipment, and despite his day job as a physical trainer, Cheol is not in the mood to be teaching anyone how to do anything.

No, he’s much happier taking the slopes with his best friend. 

Mingyu isn’t as adept with skis as Cheol is, but he’s good enough for the elder not to worry too much about him. 

After tackling a few of the harder slopes, the two men find themselves on a green run. 

It’s enjoyable to take the hill in an easy manner, crisscrossing down the incline, watching the powder fluff up and take air with each harsh turn-

The day is gorgeous-

And then Cheol spots you, and his mood drops instantly.

You’re a couple hundred feet down the mountain from he and Mingyu, and they both stop for a moment, battling the glare from the sun-

“Is that-”

“Y/n,” Seungcheol confirms with a sigh. “First the thing with her bags, now this- it’s like she’s never been to a ski resort before.”

“Maybe she hasn’t,” Mingyu cocks his head to the side, looking thoughtful for a moment. “We should go help her.”

Seungcheol scoffs. “You really think she wants our help?”

“It never hurts to offer,” the younger, more considerate man points out. “Besides, this is Jeonghan and Joshua’s new step-sister, we’re trying to be nice to her, right?”

With a sigh, Seungcheol agrees, and the two continue down the mountain, catching up to you easily. 

“Hello!” Mingyu calls out to you, in classic extroverted Mingyu fashion. This earns him a smile from you, and you stop your slow slope descent to chat.

“Hi Mingyu,” you say, pushing your hair out of your face and adjusting your hat.

You don’t say hello to Seungcheol, and he doesn’t greet you either.

“How’s your day going so far?” Mingyu asks. “Are you enjoying the fresh air?”

“Yeah- found some skis at the rental and I think I’m getting the hang of it,” you tell them, “wasn’t sure I’d be skiing much this trip but, well, here I am.”

“You slept in,” Seungcheol finds himself stating. “We weren’t sure we’d bump into you today.”

“Right…” you trail off, giving Seungcheol a quick once over before your eyes return to Mingyu, and an easy smile works its way across your face again, “Have you been skiing long? I mean, I get the feeling that I’m the only person on the trip who doesn’t have much experience with all of this- you guys all brought your own skis.”

“Yeah, we’re all big snow sports people,” Mingyu tells you. “Seungcheol was actually almost an olympic level snowboarder-”

“Really?” Now you’re looking at Seungcheol. Truly looking at him. “But… you brought skis?”

“He’d be much too fast on his board,” Mingyu grins. “Skis slow him down, make him level with the rest of us. But, he’s still pretty good at skiing too.”

“Could give you a few pointers if you want,” Seungcheol says, earnestly. 

He’d gotten a good look at what you were doing wrong before they approached you, and a few minor tweaks would have you skiing with the best of them-

“Erm, thanks, but no thanks, I think I’m good learning at my own pace for now.” 

He notes the way you avert your eyes, upper lip curling slightly with disdain. 

He should have never bothered to offer you help. 

Seungcheol takes a deep breath. “You two are probably more compatible for your level, and I want to do some harder runs. I’ll see you around.”

And with that, he leaves you and Mingyu, taking off down the mountain at a speed his friends can only dream of.

6: Friday - evening

It’s been a good day for Mingyu, and settling in for dinner with his friends is the perfect ending for it. They order half the menu, covering the table in all sorts of foods to try together, and it reminds him of their time in university. 

While Mingyu is younger than his friends, he’d entered their frat before they’d graduated, and the bond he has with his older hyungs is truly one born out of a shared love for food. 

“Try this,” Jeonghan insists, and Mingyu opens his mouth before he even gets a good look at what’s about to be fed to him. “It’s good right?”

Mingyu can only nod happily while munching, hand reaching for his beer.

“Where were you guys today?” Joshua asks, “we missed you on the slopes.”

“Did a couple of the harder ones,” Seungcheol responds while the maknae has his mouth full, “then bumped into your step-sister on the easier hill-”

“Oh?” This grabs both Jeonghan and Joshua’s attention. “She was skiing?”

“Badly,” Cheol leans back in his chair, sipping his beer.

“She wasn’t that bad,” Mingyu insists, swallowing his food so he can defend you. “I did a couple runs with her and she wasn’t that bad, really.”

The brothers exchange a glance that Mingyu can’t read. 

He’s always been jealous of how in tune Jeonghan and Joshua are. As ‘irish twins’ - siblings born within the same year - it’s like they can read each other’s minds, and Mingyu always feels like he’s missing some crucial part of the conversation.

“Did you guys sort out the bed situation?” Joshua asks, looking down at the steak he’s cutting. He gives off an air of nonchalance, but Mingyu can tell that this is a topic both brothers are interested in. 

“I think you mentioned giving up your bed when we talked about it a few months ago,” Jeonghan adds, “isn’t that right, Cheol?”

“That was before I met her.”

The brothers exchange a glance, and a smirk works its way onto Jeonghan’s face. “Looks like Gyu got the short end of the straw, huh?”

“I offered her my bed,” Mingyu insists. 

“But she fell asleep on the couch during our Christmas movie,” Seungcheol says smoothly. “I moved her to his bed, wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easy.”

“My neck is aching,” Mingyu groans, rubbing at it, “but it was worth it. I told her she could have my bed, so she had my bed.”

“He’s so eager to help her out,” Cheol teases, pushing at Mingyu’s shoulder. “When we saw her on the mountain earlier, she refused my help, but was more than happy to ski with him.”

Joshua and Jeonghan exchange a glance that has Mingyu rushing to assure them, “she’s your new step sister- I’m not trying anything, I just want to be friendly-”

“What was that?” Cheol leans closer, “I don’t think I heard you?”

“I said,” Mingyu raises his voice, “she’s their stepsister, and I’m not trying anything!” 

“Perfect, that’s exactly what I thought I heard,” Seungcheol grins, and then he’s looking at something over Mingyu’s shoulder. “Hey Y/N, you should join these three for dinner.”

“Uh…” 

Mingyu turns to find you standing there, and his skin heats with embarrassment. 

He’s pretty sure you’d just heard what he’d loudly said to his friends, and his skin tingles with regret, ears heating-

“Really,” Seungcheol stands, “take my seat, I was just leaving.”

“Where are you headed?” Jeonghan asks, more curious about his friend than his own step-sister.

“The pool.” Cheol grabs the jacket on the back of his chair. “Have some knots in my back, but nothing the hot tub jets can’t fix.”

For the second time today, Mingyu finds himself watching Cheol make a hasty retreat in order to avoid spending time with you. And for the second time today, Mingyu finds himself eagerly attempting to help you fit in, despite his oldest friend’s rejection of you.

“Come eat,” Mingyu urges, patting the newly empty seat next to him. 

“Are you guys sure? I can always eat alone-”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Joshua laughs. “You’re one of us now, come sit.”

Mingyu is glad that your step brothers immediately start asking you questions, and for a little while, everything runs smoothly. 

Every minute he spends with you, he warms up more and more to your presence.

It’s obvious to him that yesterday, when you’d arrived, you’d been out of sorts after hours of traveling. Your temperament has improved drastically, and Mingyu finds himself laughing along with his friends at small jokes you make here and there.

The four of you spend a much longer time in the resort restaurant than Mingyu had expected, and it’s only when Jeonghan begins to yawn that you all decide it’s time to head back to your cabins.

The night is cold, but it’s not snowing, and your small group follows the poles of string lights diligently.

Jeonghan and Joshua pull off one stop earlier than your own, wishing you goodnight before heading into their cabin.

As you and Mingyu continue up the path, Mingyu finds you walking closer to him, and he’s surprised when you say “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Carrying me to bed last night,” you respond, “and the map you left on the coffee table, the one with the ski rental circled.”

“Oh, uh…” Mingyu swallows thickly, “that actually wasn’t me. I think it’s Cheol who you have to be thanking.”

“Oh…” 

‘Oh’ is right.

7: Saturday - morning

When you wake up, you’re struck by two things. First, that you’re alone, as you were when you woke up yesterday. And second, that your father is getting married.

Your body aches when you sit up, muscles screaming at you for having the audacity to ski as long as you had with Mingyu, and you decide pretty quick that another attempt at the slopes is off the table.

You remember what Seungcheol had said yesterday, about the pool and the hott ub, and decide maybe he had the right idea about jets and sore muscles.

He can be an ass, but you suppose he uses his brain sometimes.

You change into your swimsuit, and make sure to layer yourself with comfy sweats and your parka, pool bag in hand before you set out to take on the weather. 

For the billionth time since arriving at this God forsaken cabin, you wish you’d gotten a room in the resort itself. It’s snowed over the night, but the path is somewhat cleared. Even so, the trek to the main hotel is difficult, and your muscles are even more tired when you arrive.

The resort is a ski destination, and you cross your fingers that most of its patrons are on the hills and not utilizing the various pools and saunas. 

Your wish comes true, and you’re pleased to see hardly anyone as you pass through the indoor pool to check out the outdoor areas, intent on having a hot tub to yourself-

As you’re walking along the pool deck, clutching your parka tight around your body, you notice someone swimming. 

He’s underwater, slicing through the pool like a professional swimmer. The glare from the overcast sky makes it impossible to get a great look at the athlete and you settle next to the hot tub, hoping to see more when he comes up for air. 

You’ve just taken off your parka and are wading into the hot tub when the swimmer stops at the edge of the pool. He’s in the shallows now, and he’s able to stand up, his back to you.

Droplets of water glisten down his back in the light, steam immediately beginning to lift off of his skin-

His shoulders and back look like they were crafted by the Gods, and the man runs a hand through his hair, shaking it out of his face.

You just wish he would turn to look at you, so you can see who you’re drooling over-

In no time at all, this wish is coming true, only, you wish it hadn’t, because the moment the gorgeous, well-muscled athlete turns to look at you, you’re locking eyes with your least favourite person on the mountain.

Seungcheol is as taken aback as you are for a moment.

He’d been reaching for the rail to pull himself out of the pool, but now, he’s simply frozen.

You’re practically gawking at each other, and you’re the first to break eye contact, clearing your throat and looking away.

You can feel your skin heating, and it’s not just from the hot tub, which you wish you could simply submerge yourself in and never come back up-

In the periphery of your vision, you see Seungcheol getting out of the pool, and it takes every ounce of self-restraint in your entire body not to turn and watch him.

Then, to your surprise, he gives you an excuse to look at him, calling out, “The wedding starts at four, don’t be late.”

Your jaw hits the hottub floor, and you watch Seungcheol practically run away from you.

It’s becoming an all too familiar sight. 

8: Saturday - afternoon

Sitting in his mother’s hotel room, watching her do the final touches on her wedding look, Joshua is struck with memories of the past.

There’d been many mornings growing up where he’d sat on the closed-lid toilet, watching her brush through her hair, sometimes braiding it, before taking him and Jeonghan to school.

In the quiet of their small apartment bathroom, nothing could come between them, not Jeonghan whining for whatever reason, nor the angry father who’d disappeared from the picture when the boys had turned ten.

To Joshua, the moment feels like peace, or at least, as close to it as he’s ever come.

He can tell, by the way his mom smiles when she looks at herself in the mirror, that she’s truly happy, and it’s all he’s ever wanted for her. 

The moment is fleeting, as Jeonghan enters the room and brings with him a certain level of chaos, the kind of windswept mayhem that follows him everywhere, like a moving storm.

“Booze?” The first word to come out of his mouth.

“In the fridge,” Joshua motions to the small cooler before asking his elder brother, “drinking already?”

“Just spent half an hour running all over and making sure everyone’s doing what they’re supposed to be doing,” Jeonghan sighs, bending down to retrieve a can of beer, cracking it open with nimble fingers.

“You wanted to be the best man,” Joshua points out.

For such a small wedding, consisting of only close family and a few friends, roles hadn’t been a necessity, but Joshua wasn’t aware that scrambling around to make sure people are in place would be necessary either.

“Y/N forgot her shoes at the cabin, so Mingyu ran to get them, but by the time he got there, Seungcheol had apparently realized the heels were needed, so he’d grabbed them- and somehow they’d missed each other in the lobby-” Jeonghan cuts off his own ramblings with a large sip of his drink. 

“Sounds like quite the goose chase,” their mother’s calm voice visibly settles the best man, who takes a seat next to his brother.

“You look amazing,” Jeonghan tells her, as sincere as Joshua’s ever seen him. “Our new step-sister’s dad is a lucky man.”

“Since when did you stop calling him by his name?” Seulki laughs, returning her gaze to the mirror, fixing her veil. “Looks like you’re both getting used to Y/N though, Joshua mentioned that you all had dinner last night. Is she settling in okay?”

“I think so,” Joshua says thoughtfully.

“Mingyu really likes her,” Jeonghan adds.

Joshua nods. “And we do too.”

Their mom gives them a knowing look. “How’s Seungcheol finding his cabinmate? Haven’t you both always said he’s a good judge of character?”

“He’s also a stubborn ass,” Jeonghan grins over the rim of his drink, “so we can’t really trust his opinions on her- besides, any time she’s around, he runs the other way. I doubt they’ve talked much.”

“That’s a shame,” Seulki frowns. “I bumped into her with Mingyu on the slopes yesterday, she seemed really lovely.”

“She is,” Joshua admits. He’d also enjoyed getting to know you last night over food and drinks.

“Well,” Seulki turns to her boys, “let’s just hope Seungcheol warms up to her, but we’ll put that to the side for now, we have a wedding to get to.”

9: Saturday - evening

The ceremony had gone exactly as planned. 

After the initial goose chase looking for your shoes, there’d only been one or two small details Jeonghan had been forced to attend to. But after it all, his mom had walked down the aisle, vows had been said, and Jeonghan had gained a father figure.

Standing at the alter next to his brother, Jeonghan had watched everything take place with a keen eye.

He’d been pleased to see the three couples invited - his aunt and uncle, and two of your father’s friends with their wives - sitting in the small venue with his roommates. And he’d been even more interested in watching his friends react throughout the service.

Mingyu had gotten teary-eyed the moment Seulki had begun her walk down the aisle, and even Seungcheol had torn his gaze from you for long enough to admire the dress.

When everything was said and done, the small party had moved to a secluded room off the main restaurant to have food, drinks and further celebration. Here, Jeonghan had again noticed Seungcheol’s affinity for having you in his line of sight.

“You know,” Jeonghan says, as he settles into the seat next to his brother, eyes fixed on his muscular friend by the small bar, “for a guy who runs away whenever y/n is around, he spends an awful lot of his time watching our step sister.”

Joshua chuckles, sipping his champagne. “You noticed that too, huh?”

“Hard not to,” Jeonghan grins, following Seungcheol’s gaze to where you’re clinging to Mingyu on the makeshift dance floor. “What do you think about those two?”

“I think Cheol better cut his losses now,” Joshua says, setting his drink down. 

“Really?” Jeonghan cocks his head, considering it all. “We’re only two days into this trip… a lot could happen before the week is done, don’t you think?”

“A lot could happen,” Joshua admits, “especially if someone like you decided to meddle.”

“I never meddle, only… help push things along.”

“In the direction you want it to go.”

“Touche,” Jeonghan lifts his champagne, gently clinking it against his brother’s discarded glass. 

“I think I’m going to go ask y/n to dance,” Joshua says, pushing his chair back and standing.

“Now who’s meddling?” Jeonghan laughs.

“Still only you.”

10: Sunday - morning

The couch had been uncomfortable on a normal night, so Mingyu supposes it’s his own fault that he wakes up aching after a night of drinking and dancing at the wedding.

Stretching his arms over his head, he tries to ease the tight muscles in his shoulders, but he’s unable to get comfortable again.

He lays there for a few minutes, watching you dance in your cute bridesmaid dress on the back of his eyelids. He’s not sure if it’s you, the dress, or the visual combined, but he knows he’s going to remember last night for many years to come.

When he finally sits up, Mingyu looks towards your bed, and he’s not shocked to find you still sleeping. This is the third day waking up in the same room as you, and Mingyu’s becoming accustomed to the fact that you sleep in longer than he does.

He’s becoming accustomed to your cute, unsuspecting, resting face.

It makes sleeping on the couch worth it, and his sore muscles are almost forgotten- until he has to stand up, and they scream at him again.

Cheol is sitting up in his bed, scrolling through his phone, and he looks up when Mingyu stretches his arms above his head to release his shoulder tension.

‘Did you sleep well?’ Cheol mouths at him.

The two have been scared to even whisper in the mornings - scared to wake you up - and have adopted this silent way of communicating. Mingyu nods quickly, pointing back at his hyung as if to say ‘and you?’

Another quick nod, plus a thumbs up, then Cheol makes the motion of a man shoveling food into his mouth and points to the door.

Mingyu holds up his hand, ‘give me five minutes’ and slowly begins to tiptoe to the bathroom, where he can have some water, fix his hair, and change into better clothes. 

It’s a routine they’ve gotten used to, and for the third day in a row, Mingyu prays that when he exits the bathroom, by some miracle, you’ll be awake and eager to join them in the resort restaurant for breakfast.

Mingyu and Seungcheol - quite predictably - end up weathering the early morning elements without you, and it’s on the snowy path that Mingyu tells Cheol “I think I’m going to skip skiing today.”

“Really?” Seungcheol’s shock is written all over his face.

Mingyu nods. “I feel bad that we’re always ditching y/n- and we mostly go on the slopes she can’t ski on, so… I figured, after breakfast, I'd stay behind at the cabin and wait till she wakes up, then see what she wants to do today.”

There’s a long pause, and then Seungcheol sighs. “I see how it is.”

“Hmm?”

“You also walked her home last night after the dinner. Hannie, Joshie and I stayed up drinking, you usually join, but instead, you walked y/n home.”

“We were both tired,” Mingyu defends himself. “Watched a bit of a movie, then fell asleep.”

“Is that all that happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… part of me wondered if I should have stayed on Jeonghan and Joshua’s couch last night, to give you privacy.”

Mingyu’s heart skips a beat in his chest, and he fumbles with the hood of his parka. “We didn’t- we aren’t-”

“You guys danced a lot last night, then you walked her home… if it’s not like that then… well, people might get the wrong idea.”

“Who’s people?” Mingyu nearly laughs. “It’s just us here- you think anyone really cared last night?”

“I guess not.” There’s a pause, then Seungcheol changes the topic, asking, “What do you think you’ll have for breakfast today?”

It’s then that Mingyu realizes, someone did care last night, and that someone, is Cheol. 

11: Sunday - afternoon

You’d been a little shocked to find Mingyu reading on the couch when you’d woken up from your long sleep, but when he’d explained to you that he’d stayed behind from skiing with friends to make sure you had a proper buddy for the day, your heart had melted.

After a slow start, the two of you had decided to rent some snow shoes and use the back slope trails, which is how you end up climbing one of the smaller mountains together.

“We’re almost at the top,” Mingyu tells you, pulling out the trail map provided by the resort. You try to catch your breath while he points to a spot on the paper. “I think we’re about here, so just-” he drags his finger up the green line, “this far to the top.”

“Are you sure?” you laugh, grasping onto his arm to pull yourself closer so you can get a good look at the map.

There’s a pause, then he shakes his head, “No. We could also be sort of lost.” 

“Don’t say that-” you grin, pushing at him, “you’ve been mostly using this map alright- I trust you, and your trail-following capabilities.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t though,” Mingyu insists. “Honestly, following maps is definitely Cheol’s thing. One time, we were on a road trip, and we were going down this road for half an hour before we had to pull over and he got to look at the map- we’d missed a turn and it set us back like two hours-”

“It’s easier to miss a highway turn than a trailhead,” you assure him. “Come on, we said we’d climb this small mountain, and then we can take the lift back down and finish our movie from last night at the cabin- just think about our nice, warm cabin-”

“Nice, warm cabin,” Mingyu nods, folding the map back up to put in the pocket of his parka. “Let’s go, we can do this.”

You watch the large, beautiful man pull away from you and continue your trajectory up, and you can’t help but smile, echoing the sentiment, “we can do this.” 

12: Sunday - evening

Seungcheol had been surprised to find the cabin empty after skiing, and he’d been even more surprised when he went to the restaurant to find you and Mingyu not there either. 

However, he does find Jeonghan, who informs him that he’d seen you and Mingyu getting snow shoes a few hours ago, and Seungcheol’s heart sinks.

There’s a storm coming, and darkness has already begun to settle in across the resort- 

He hopes, for both your sakes, that you’re not on the top of the mountain, lost in the trails, when the worst of the winter weather hits.

After waiting diligently for his meal order to come through, Seungcheol ends up trekking back to your cabin with food and firewood in hand just as the snow begins to get heavier.

The last thing he expects when he enters your lodging, is to find you sitting there with a minty green facemask on, and for a second, he stands in the doorway just staring at you.

You break eye contact first, calling out “Cheol’s back!” and a moment later, Mingyu comes out of the bathroom, mid-facemask application.

“Cheol!” Mingyu beams, rubbing the green goo against his cheek, “you’re back from skiing!”

“I was back earlier-” Seungcheol closes the door behind him, “stopped here for a bit but you guys weren’t around.”

“We just got back from a snowshoe hike like, twenty minutes ago?” Mingyu tells him, looking at you for confirmation. Seungcheol watches the way you nod at Mingyu, and his friend lights up. This time, when he says “twenty minutes ago,” he says it with confidence.

“Well, I brought food and firewood,” Seungcheol sighs, kicking off his snow boots and entering the small space.

“Firewood?” You’re looking at him again, and Seungcheol can’t find it within himself to meet your eyes while you’re green in the face like this, so instead, he sets the food down and moves to the small cast iron fireplace in the corner.

“Did you think this cabin heats itself?” The question comes out much snarkier than he’d intended, and he regrets it as he begins to build the fire.

“No- I mean, I noticed it was cold when we got in twenty minutes ago- but I don’t know, I sort of assumed that maybe hotel staff would bring the wood and keep the embers going-”

Seungcheol scoffs. Of course another good deed of his would go unappreciated. 

“It’s plausible!” you try to insist.

“I never said anything.”

“You scoffed, you went like-” you mimic the throaty annoyed sound he’d made, “you went like that, a scoff- you scoffed at me!”

“Here’s your dinner,” Seungcheol pushes the bag of takeout towards you across the floor, eyes fixed on the fire he’s still building.

“What if I don’t want your food? What if I want to finish with this mask and go grab food for myself?” 

Seungcheol sighs again. “There’s literally a storm coming in- if you go out, you’re going to get windswept away- just eat the food I brought.”

“What if I don’t like the food you brought?” you insist again, and Seungcheol’s getting real tired of your bratty stubbornness. 

“You will, it’s what you’ve been eating for two nights in a row.”

This finally gets you to open the bag he’d brought, and you remove the three takeout items, eying them. “How did you know I like this?”

“Like I said- you’ve eaten it two nights in a row.”

“Why were you watching?”

“Oh my god,” Seungcheol groans, running a hand through his hair. “Just say thank you and eat your fucking food while I make this fire so you don’t freeze to death- why does everything have to be so hard with you?”

There’s a long pause, and he hears the sound of a food container opening. 

He’s thankful you’ve finally shut up and are going to eat.

“Even without the fire- this cabin is well insulated enough that we wouldn’t die,” you say after a moment. “The hotel wouldn’t be able to have a cabin where its renters could just die.”

If he hadn’t just lit the fire, Seungcheol might have considered allowing you to test your theory out of spite.

“You always need to have the last word, don’t you, brat?” He stands up, dusting his hands off on his pants before turning to look at you.

You open your mouth to respond- but quickly shrink under his hard gaze.

A moment later, you pick up the remote, and a movie begins to play.

At least in this, Cheol’s gotten the last laugh. 

13: Monday - morning

“Fuck-” Jeonghan’s cursing does more to wake Joshua up than the knock at their cabin door had, and the younger irish twin goes to cover his ears while Jeonghan stumbles out of bed.

“Who is it?” Joshua groans, giving in and sitting up, squinting at the door that his brother throws open to reveal their eldest friend.

“Are you two really still sleeping?” Seungcheol pushes into the cabin, throwing his gloves down before gruffly kicking off his boots.

“What time is it?” Jeonghan asks, rubbing at his eyes and groaning before running back to nosedive into his bed.

“Late enough that you should both be awake.”

“Y/n’s not awake,” Jeonghan insists, tucking himself back under the covers, “and I don’t see Mingyu anywhere- why do they get a free pass from your bitching but we don’t?”

“Because they’re not my ski buddies today,” Seungcheol says smoothly. “Seriously, what’s up with you two- and why is it so cold in here?”

They all look towards the castiron fire place, and the emptiness of it gives Joshua a chill that he feels tingling through his entire body.

“We thought we had enough firewood to carry us over from the evening and into the night, so neither of us picked up any dry wood from the hotel yesterday-” Joshua begins to explain.

“Evidently you both ran out,” Cheol concludes, scanning the rest of the small space with his precise, all-knowing, eyes. His gaze lingers on the bottle of fireball on the coffee table. “Instead of running to get more wood, you guys took to drinking, huh?”

“It’s not like we were going to cuddle,” Jeonghan groans.

“So you’re both hung over.”

“Just a little,” Joshua sighs, swinging his legs out of his bed. “Give us half an hour and I can be up.”

“It’s funny,” Cheol says, moving to sit on the couch, “I just had a fight with your step-sister last night about whether we’d freeze to death if we forgot firewood- and at the same time, you guys were over here, resorting to fireball instead of an actual fire-”

“It’s not like we could go out and grab wood once we realized we didn’t have enough,” Jeonghan defends himself. “The storm was really bad.”

“And it’s going to be bad for the next few days,” Seungcheol tells them, “so you better get used to grabbing firewood every evening after dinner.”

Both of his friends groan. “Sure, dad,” Jeonghan buries his head in his pillows. “You know what? If you’re going to be like this, maybe I’ll sleep in and not be your ski buddy today.”  

“Mingyu ditched me yesterday, and now you’re ditching me today-” Seungcheol clicks his tongue, “am I really being that much of a dick this vacation?”

It’s Joshua who responds, pointing out, as thoughtfully as he can; “you have been more of a dick than usual.” 

To which Seungcheol replies, “Yeah, well, you guys have been pissing me off more than usual.” 

Except, Joshua knows it’s not necessarily he and Jeonghan who have been pushing Seungcheol’s buttons this trip- but he keeps that to himself. 

14: Monday - afternoon

After skipping out on skiing with his friend and brother, Jeonghan had gotten some much-needed rest. Then, around lunchtime, he’d left his cabin in search of food only to bump into you and Mingyu doing the same thing.

As if that wasn’t coincidence enough, when your odd trio had entered the resort restaurant, you’d found Joshua and Seungcheol midway through their own meals.

Jeonghan had insisted you all join together, fully intending to meddle with you and your cabin mates. After all, he’d just gotten some sleep, and his mischievous mind was eager to stir the pot.

To his disappointment, the seating arrangements make poking people’s buttons difficult- with Cheol all but ignoring you from his vantage point as far from you as possible.

Despite the less-than-ideal format of your table, Jeonghan still finds a way to draw everyone into the conversation when he states, “so I heard there was a fight over cabin temperature last night.”

This earns Jeonghan a rough kick under the table from Cheol, as well as a harsh look from you. 

“Who said that?” you ask.

“Cheol did,” Jeonghan smiles through the pain in his shin, and this time, when Cheol goes to kick him, a quick movement of his leg has him narrowly avoiding his friend’s boot. “This morning, when he came to pick of Joshie for skiing.”

“It wasn’t a fight,” you go to insist, but the harsh glare you send Seungcheol’s way has Jeonghan nearly laughing.

“Definitely not a fight,” Mingyu confirms, and Jeonghan almost feels bad for the way he’s sat between you and Seungcheol. A man caught between two stormy personalities ready for a clash.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Jeonghan says, “we ran out of wood last night, and we didn’t die.”

You sigh, leaning back in your chair. “Well, that’s good to know.” 

“Y/n was saying last night,” Mingyu adds, “that she doubted we’d die without wood- hotel regulations and everything-”

“Was Cheol insisting you’d die without a fire?” Joshua’s eyes have widened, and he leans in, elbows on the table next to Jeonghan’s food. “Cheol? Really?” 

“He was just being dramatic,” you say, and Jeonghan watches the way his friend’s ears turn red at your statement.

“Says the girl who was going to go out in the storm instead of eating the food I brought for her.” Seungcheol crosses his arms over his chest, and a muscle feathers in his jaw. He’s glaring at his plate, and a thick tension blankets the table.

Jeonghan loves it.

But then something happens that he couldn’t possibly predict: your parents enter the restaurant, and before he knows it, you’re hopping up to go say hello to Seulki and your father, leaving the men to deal with the unresolved tension.

“Are you trying to start something?” Seungcheol whispers angrily as soon as you’re out of earshot, his angry gaze fixed on Jeonghan.

“Who, me?” Jeonghan touches his chest, pretending to be the most innocent person in the room. “I was just looking for conversation. Besides, we’re the one’s who forgot firewood last night, it’s quite embarrassing for us.”

“You don’t look embarrassed,” Seungcheol notes, sitting back in his chair.

“He has no shame,” Mingyu adds, nodding sympathetically.

“You’re right, I don’t,” Jeonghan’s grin widens, and he looks over Seungcheol’s shoulder to see you leaving the restaurant. “Now that it’s just us, I suppose I should be a good big brother and figure out which one of you intends to fuck my new step-sister.”

Mingyu had been taking a sip of his drink, and now he’s choking, which only adds to Jeonghan’s delight. 

“Jeonghan,” Joshua’s harsh warning bounces off the elder brother, whose smile is becoming something akin to the Cheshire Cat’s.

“Neither of us are going for your stupid step-sister,” Seungcheol growls, thumping Mingyu on the back to aid with the water caught in his lungs.

“Oh, so you’re both in denial?” Jeonghan’s eyes widen. “I’d thought at least Mingyu would fess  up.”

“Fess up to what?” Mingyu says between coughs. “I’m just being nice to her!”

Jeonghan nods. “Sure you are.”

“Why do you all think I want to fuck your stepsister?!” Mingyu whisper screams at his friends, doing a quick look around the restaurant before adding, “you guys are all horrible.”

“Cheol’s been bugging you about this too, huh?” It’s one of the first things Joshua’s really said, and Jeonghan realizes his brother is right. 

“Bet he had a lot to say about the way you danced with our sister at the wedding.”

“Were you all watching that?!” Mingyu’s eyes have widened. 

“It was quite the spectacle,” Jeonghan plays with his glass of water. “Cheol was jealous.”

“What!?” This time, when Seungcheol misses Jeonghan’s shin with his foot, the whole table shakes from impact along the underside of it. “Was not! I didn’t even dance with her- how could I be jealous when I never even danced with your stupid sister-”

“Stop calling her stupid,” Joshua’s harsh tone is a surprise to everyone, and the table goes quiet. “Just because you’re in denial about everything doesn’t mean you get to call our new sister stupid.”

“Someone’s taking their older brother role a little seriously-” Seungcheol lets out a whistle.

“Deflect all you want,” Joshua sighs, “Change the topic and make fun of me, but at the end of the day, you’re only making things harder on yourself… both of you.”

For a moment, both Seungcheol and Mingyu are put on the spot, then Seungcheol insists, “We’re not doing anything.”

“And denial is a river in Egypt,” Joshua sighs, shocking the whole table with a pop culture quote- something that’s very unlike him. “Cheol, you’re done eating, let’s leave these two and get a few more runs in before the storm makes skiing impossible.” 

15: Monday - evening

Sitting on the floor with your roommates, roasting marshmallows on the fire while the storm rages outside, you find yourself noticing all the small details about them both.

It’s the first night that you’ve actually allowed yourself to take a breath and relax, accepting that, with the extreme weather, there is really nothing else that can be done except to work on enjoying your company.

Mingyu is easy, as you’ve grown accustomed to having him around. You’ve gotten used to his large form, the clumsiness and easy smiles.

Seungcheol, on the other hand, is something you’re newly exploring, sneaking glances at his side profile whenever you think he’s fully distracted in his marshmallow making.

Unlike Mingyu, who thrusts his treat into the fire and watches it burn, Seungcheol is meticulous about his food, preferring a spot where his marshmallow can slowly turn golden near the embers.

He’s got a pretty side profile, and there’s a stubborn set to his jaw when he focuses, eyes fixed on flames that light his face in pretty hues. 

His nose is also quite striking, and along with his strong brow, his face is altogether quite attractive, something you’ve been fighting yourself on since the moment you entered the cabin and he’d been cold to you.

There’s something about the duality of him that has your heart racing whenever he’s around. 

You’re never sure which Cheol you’re going to get.

You’ve had glimpses of his softer side, especially on your first day when he’d carried you to bed and then left you a map- then there’d been the way he brought you your dress shoes after you’d forgotten to pack them and trekked to the hotel in snow boots on the day of the wedding-

It seems as if Seungcheol is the kind of man who likes to do nice things for you when you’re not watching, but after your small altercation last night, wherein you’d realized he’s also been doing fire duty, you’ve made more of an attempt to notice small things.

 Small things like the way he takes the perfect golden marshmallow out of the fire, places it between two chocolate graham crackers, and hands it to you without a word, giving you the best s’more of the night.

He balances his kindness to you by offering Mingyu the s’more after, and you think he must be doing it as if to say ‘you’re not special, I’ll share with everyone’ but you can’t help but think there might be more to it. 

To your surprise, Mingyu is the first of the three of you to get sleepy, and after a quick washup in the bathroom, he’s collapsing onto the couch and falling asleep. 

For the first time since arriving at the cabin, you find yourself truly alone with Seungcheol, no big, human buffer to keep you both in line.

The silence is thick. Even so, in the quiet, Seungcheol gives you wide birth to go wash your face and brush your teeth while he cleans up the few items from your s’mores.

There’s hardly anything to be said, and the two of you find yourselves getting into your own beds in no time at all.

“Turning off the light,” Seungcheol tells you, hand reaching for the lamp chord. 

He pauses, waiting for your curt “okay” before following through with his statement of intent, and the room is captured in darkness.

The wind howls outside, drowning out any sounds of your roommates breathing, and for a little while, you can almost pretend you’re alone. 

Almost. 

In the dark, your mind begins to have all sorts of thoughts, and you surprise yourself when words slip out of you; “I’m sorry for calling you dramatic today.”

The air feels thick and heavy, a few beats of silence passing that almost convince you Seungcheol’s asleep, but then, he responds. “I’m sorry for referring to our disagreement last night as ‘a fight’ when I talked to Jeonghan this morning.” 

“It’s okay,” you say quietly. 

For a short while, you think nothing else is going to be said, but then; “Goodnight y/n.”

You take a breath, wrapping yourself tighter in your blankets. “Goodnight, Cheol.” 

CONTINUE READING PART 2 HERE I note. the fic was too long to be posted in one tumblr post 🤪

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[callsigns-haze]

A blow for an answer

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!classmate!reader

summary: people see the two of you as the goody two shoes but truly there's only one real way you study.

warnings: smut, mention of bombings, blowjobs, unhinged coryo, work sex, dominance, short fic

A/n: This is my first hunger games post so I hope y'all enjoy!

It was a wednesday morning. It was your day when classes start an hour later than usual, allowing you to have a light sleep in before starting a whole day of hard study. Your room was only illuminated by the thin, bright beam of light that peaks through a gap in your curtains. It didn't quite disturb you till the light hit your face, stirring you to awake, quite so lightly.

You decide to turn in your bed to face the other way, pulling the covers further up so that the light didn't disturb you but the young seven year old did it instead. "Wake up! Coryo is about to be here!" Ellie's voice broke the silence as you lift your head to look at the alarm clock next to you. You slept in.

Nobody in the world would have ever experienced you jumping out of bed so quickly, running to your chair to get your ironed uniform to run to the bathroom. "Ells, why didn't you wake me sooner!?" You squeal running into your bathroom. "I tried to! It's not my fault you hibernate!"

You close the door shut and the first thing you do is run to the sink and open the cold tap. You let some water run before you splash a gracious amount onto you face to awoken you.

You had to get ready as soon as possible, Coriolanus will arrive any minute now and you've only risen from bed. Coryo, he was your classmate and assignments partner. The two of you always study together, it's what you do best. A lot of classmates tease that even though your head barely makes it out of books it's not like your father can't buy your way into further studies.

You didn't care about what they thought, now or never, their opinion doesn't matter, especially as you swash your mouth empty of toothpaste and begin to quickly brush your hair before grabbing some jell, water and hairspray. The quickest hairstyle you can maintain is your signature slick bun with a fancy hair tie at the base of the bun.

You've never dragged your hair back so quickly and aggressively, you needed to get it done now. The uniform was easy to put on but you wanted an easy make-up, just plain powder and mascara. You'll still look daring but quite plain for a rich kid.

You take out your powder and apply it onto one of your brushes. Your mom bought you this powder box years back, each time saying that she can replace it but you didn't want that you only got it refilled, it reminded you of times she was around more and let you dig in her stuff to play.

No more time to have sad flash backs. You throw off your nightgown, allowing it to pool around your feet as you slip on some red tights and your blue button up shirt. You put on the skirt, which has been made shorter for women during the years and throw on your blazer. Just on time.

------

Coriolanus was a man who was always punctual. Never missed a day of school in ten years or has never shown up late to any class. You admired that in him, he had potential, like your father says, 'his father was a man who loved his country, his son is much like him', and that was true.

Coryo knocks on the big wooden doors of your family home just to hear some squealing and screaming between the siblings. Like always your little sister Elizabeth runs to the door with hesitation, and peaks through the corner glass to see who has arrived. She smiles when she sees Coriolanus and screams upstairs, "Y/n, he's here! He's here!"

She does a little jump up and down as she twist the key that is at the other side of the door unlocking the door. She runs to him as he leans down locking her in a short hug as the little girl whispers to him ,"She slept in."

He let out a slight chuckle with that. The little girl throwing her older sister right under the bus at every chance she gets. He smiles at her as she talks about her playdate she had with a friend yesterday and how they have a rose garden, like the one his Grandma'am talks about but is quickly interrupted by you standing on the bottom step calling out.

"Ellie, Chase is in the kitchen waiting for you." She rolls her eyes and you give her a darn stare, the one that tells her to get in the move now and you close the door as you exit it and sigh. Coryo let's out another chuckle with that and smirks, "You slept in again, didn't you?" You groan, it's like he knows every time. Are you really that predictable? He laughs at that as he takes some of the books your holding and carrying them under his arm.

"I wouldn't have, if Highbottom was so stuck up and gave us a ten page essay to do in one night!" You moan as you never liked your dean. He was rude, alcoholic and possibly even a drug addict. In all those cases it proves that he should not have the right to teach young adults.

"Hey, I've seen you write essays and each time you get top notch marks. He can try to bring you down but he never will," Coriolanus confronts you as the two of you weave through the crowds trying to get to the university as fast as possible.

"And anyways, if you ever need some motivation to write an essay, you know where to find me," his stupid teasing, especially in public, makes your whole face go red and you shove him slightly but instead of managing to get him away he wraps his arm around you. "Aw, come on Y/n, you can't fight it."

"Oh, you're about to find out what I can or can't fight." You break off running leaving him miles behind. You look behind you to see Coryo throw his hands up in the air as you take off.

------

"Here's our golden girl," Arachne drags those words like nails on a chalkboard. She is one of those girls who run off daddy's money because between both of those ears is suppose to be a brain but no. Just emptiness. "Leave her alone Arachne, I bet once we all hear her essay our jaws will drop." Festus's comment made you let out a small smile, spoiled kids always tried to be bitchy and the best but there's nice words around sometimes.

"So where's your golden boy, I hope he's not with Plinth," Felix roles his eyes. Such an unmannered daddy's boy, your waiting for his father's campaign to be over to see what he's got to say then. He'll become a basic like the two of you.

"Don't be rude Felix, at least he has more manners then a pig like you," you snap at him being fed up of how he quickly insults Sejanus for his family and wealth but none of you are any better than that, it's just that he comes from district.

Festus let out an airy laugh as Clemensia bit her lip to prevent her laughter. You always knock Felix off his high horse and he always reminds you off the position his father holds so you come back at him with the same. You would've continued your little word scrap but the bell rang at that.

"Don't make me finish this off later, zip it."

------

"Who knows what sparked the painful action in the Capitols heart during the dark days?" Your dean asks the class. None of them try to make eye contact with him. Trying to avoid getting picked but here you where raising your hand to answer the question. "Yes Ms. Trevino."

"During the dark days the rebels bombed a shelter where the capitals wife's and kids of politics or generals where hiding. It caused deaths of twenty seven kids and nine wifes."

He nods at you, quite impressed of your knowledge and smiles. "Right, word to word, Ms. Trevino." He was impressed, no one writes about that in any book, the information barely exists anymore yet a girl in his class knew the question to the question almost immediately.

"Very well, what districts or rebels caused the bombing?" That question was meant for you only and know the whole classes eye lay upon you, waiting curiously for the answer.

"They were travellers. Didn't belong to a certain district, always on the move. They were found almost immediately and hung for their doing."

Another correct answer that he did not expect you to be able to get. You look up to see Coriolanus smiling with a proud look at you. He didn't know this himself but for you to be able to know that is quite incredible.

"If you don't mind me asking, Ms. Trevino. How do you have this information?" You hated talking about it, it was quite forbidden at your house. No word was mentioned, no tears were shed anymore, just pure acceptance.

"I lost a family member at that bombing, sir." The looks of pity filled the classroom as you said that. Coryo knew that you mentioned before that you had another older brother but all he heard was that he passed away tragically and here that theory was quite confirmed.

With you saying that, Highbottom went back to teaching from the book. It was a quite slow class leading from then on since all this information was way better covered in the essay you wrote from better sources, this was like a whole baby type of revision.

As the class went on your dean questioned you all on the material, which you knew top notch but the thing he announced after that was truly unfair. "Since you all seem so 'interested' in this sector, tomorrow I shall exam you on it. Ms. Trevino, you will be free from the exam since you've covered all of this in the work you handed me. Now, your all dismissed."

------

Your parents always liked Coriolanus, they believed that even though you get highest marks that he has a great impact on it and they're not wrong. The two of you work rather marvellously in a studying pair.

He sits at your desk since tonight you'll be studying here. You didn't have homework or study due to your dean letting you off but you could clearly see that Coryo was overly stressing at this point and none of the information was going into his head.

"Coyro," you murmur, sitting down upon his lap, pestering his neck with kisses and light bites as he continues reading the papers in front of him. "Hmm?" He hums as he is slowly losing concentration as you rock your hips back and forth over his clothed shaft that is tucked away in his uniform pants.

He isn't wearing the usual red skirt that comes with it, meaning you have less to remove before you start your magic, "let me relax you."

You sink down onto your knees and Coryo begins to feel the kisses that you give to his groin area. You sit up, perched, with your knees hitting the carpeted bedroom floor, in between his legs. You slip down the pants as they reach his ankles and to remove them fully he kicks them onto the floor, bringing his underwear with him.

He's fully exposed besides the blue school shirt that he still wears. You wiggle your body up straight and your face is in front of his sprung, half hard cock. You lean the side of your cheek in the dip of his hip and grab a hold of the hardening cock. You gently begging to tug at him watching his foreskin go up and down as it comes over his shaft. You stare at how he looks so big with your small hand.

As you continue the pre blowjob, Coryo tries to focus on his study notes, but each delicate touch of yours makes him feel like on cloud nine and it's only your little hand. You lean your head more in his hip dip to kiss his shaft from the bottom base to the very top of his shaft. You know this is making Coriolanus sensitive from the feeling of your lips on him creates an arousal.

"So, kiss kiss tell me what was the war?" The most simple question but you kissing every square inch of his cock made it hard to think straight. "It was…fuck…a rebolt against the capital…holy shit."

With the right answer you bend down to take his whole cock head in your mouth and begin giving it soft sucks, you weren't going to go very hard at the beginning. The hiss that left his mouth showed that he was beginning to enjoy this .

You hollow out your mouth and sink a tiny bit more, this wasn't a cheap fuck, it was basically a quiz, but with a lot more spice.

One of your hand is wrapped around his base as you lower your mouth in the top. You keep your movements steady after you ask the next question. Just the way he likes a blowjob. You eyes keep closed and enjoy the moment.

Around four questions later you begin to feel Coriolanus's breathing to pick up as you watch his chest move up and down more rapidly. From now, he has completely lost the ability to speak straight. He was feeling to good to concentrate and technically you've asked him on pretty much everything. The only thing that was in his mind was your warm little mouth around his big thick cock.

He accidentally jerks his hips up leading you to let out delicate gags as he hits the back of your throat, usually he's able to control himself unless he's fucking your mouth.

"God, Y/N." His moans are deep. Hearing him moan so loudly makes you get wet and turned in. You know that once your done with him, he'll give back a favour in return.

You continue bobbing your head up and down for a bit longer until you feel something on your tongue at his very tip, which he was leaking precum. He feels so good he feels his muscles in his stomach contract and thighs shake. He wanted to give you a warning before loading off in your mouth. "Y/N, fucking hell! I'm going to cum!"

As he throws his head back you begin to go faster. You suck hard since you don't intend to pick up the speed to much but you know it'll drive Coryo over the edge, it always does.

He ejaculates his hot cum in your mouth as you continue sucking his tio and rest your hand at the base of his shaft. His salty liquid happily makes it down your throat once you swallow.

Coyro's careless moans escape, he doesn't care about how load he's being. You make him feels so good and the two of you are alone in your house. He grabs the sides of the chair to build up pressures as he believes his orgasm moments. You stop sucking and tugging to not overstimulate him and lift your head off his limp shaft.

You sit up on your bent knees, breathing heavy from your lack of breath while giving the blowjob, and Coryo lays there almost lifeless, still trying to float back to earth. Then you crawl up his body and lay flat on his heaving chest, wrapping your arms under his back.

"I know you don't need to study but I think you deserve a recap of the woman's body autonomy."

Hunger games taglist:

@rosiahills22

@shanimallina87

@callsign-magnolia

@hardballoonlove

@sweetwhispersofchaos

@buckysteveloki-me

@hookslove1592

@kmc1989

@callsign-dexter

[sodaabaa]

all stories masterlist

bridgerton

stories

to flee or not to flee? anthony bridgerton x OC [completed] what happens when a charming and determined viscount courts someone whose worst fear is to marry a man like him?

noor benedict bridgerton x OC [ongoing] noorjan begum, a newly minted tawaif, flees the royal court of india to avoid becoming the mistress of a wealthy patron. she makes it to london where she finds work at the royal academy of art and meets the man who will turn her world on its axis.

one shots

late night mischief anthony bridgerton x wife!reader reader gets dragged into a bit of late night mischief with the bridgerton siblings while anthony is away.

powdered sugar kisses anthony bridgerton x wife!reader anthony searches aubrey hall for his wife, only to find her where he least expected a viscountess to be.

birthday anthony bridgerton x reader excited to celebrate her husband’s first birthday since they got married, reader is confused to find anthony missing. she takes a trip to mayfair to ask the bridgerton family where anthony has disappeared to.

suitors and sutures anthony bridgerton x reader reader is named the diamond of the season but despite this, she finds the men of the ton avoiding her rather than courting her.

a court of thorns and roses playlist

one shots

wings rhysand x reader reader is mesmerized by rhysand's wings and he makes a tempting suggestion.

reunited rhysand x reader after reader is taken by tamlin, she yearns for the day she can be reunited with her mate.

shadows and spirits azriel x reader reader is azriel's mate but she hasn't accepted the bond yet due to her fear of azriel himself. part one part two

grishaverse

stories

his shadow nikolai lantsov x OC [on hold] inessa, the darkling's daughter and a childhood friend of ravka's golden prince, joins nikolai and alina in their plan to fight against the darkling.

redhood playlist

stories

stolen tires [completed] jason returns to gotham after the world believed him to be dead heavily inspired by the film, under the red hood

one shots

boss jason todd x reader reader is eager to work with the redhood, he's not so thrilled.

disclaimer: unless stated that a character is an OC, i do not claim to own any of the characters used in these stories. all credit is due to the appropriate parties.

[entitled-fangirl]

I hope I do.

Barty Crouch Jr. x Potter!reader

Summary: The reader wants Barty to meet her parents. He could not be more worried.

Warnings: cursing. Daddy Crouch issues.

A/N: This was based on an ask!

Masterlist

................................................

"I think you're overthinking this." Y/N stated.

Barty Crouch Jr. had been dating the beloved sister of one James Potter for over a year. 

Although she had been placed in Slytherin, nothing had changed in her family dynamic between her parents and brother.

Sirius and Regulus found themselves a little jealous.

Y/N reached out and grabbed Barty's hand from across the Slytherin table of the Great Hall. "Trust me on this."

Barty took a breath. "But I'm no angel, darling."

She leaned back with a small laugh, "They'll like you because I like you."

He nodded, but his mind was far from eased.

…

Regulus sat at the foot of his bed while half-listening to Barty's rant.

"I mean, her friends? Sure. Her brother? Yeah. But her parents? Parents… they're…" he paused his pacing in thought.

"Hard to please?" Regulus finished.

"Yes! Hard to please." He continued his stride back and forth. "The stress of pleasing your own parents is more than enough. But the parents of your future wife?"

Regulus' eyebrows furrowed, "Maybe don't start your introduction by saying she's your future wife."

Barty sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "You're right. You're always right. But, do you get what I'm saying?"

The youngest Black sibling nodded his head, "Especially if they're anything like James. Bloody annoying and brass."

Barty's eyes widened, "I didn't even think of that. Surely they're not horrible if Sirius is over there constantly."

Regulus shrugged, "He's just as thick headed as Potter."

The two laughed as his clever quip.

The laughter settled and the two were left in sudden serious silence.

"It's just," Barty sighed. "I already know I'm not good enough, especially for her. Blimey, she could have anyone in the world, and I was fortunate enough to be chosen. I already see that, Regulus. I can't take her father reminding me."

Regulus quit fiddling with his tie to look up at him, "That's what this is about? You're going in thinking they've already made up their mind about you?"

"It's Fleamont Fucking Potter! How could he not?"

A long sigh left Regulus' mouth as he stood up to get ready for bed. "You look the Dark Lord in the eyes every meeting, and you're scared of the Potters? J…Just talk to your girlfriend. I'm not qualified enough for this shit."

Barty didn't get much sleep that night.

…

"Stop messing with your jacket. You look fine." Y/N reprimanded as she fixed his jacket.

Barty's eyes were wide as saucers and his breath was shallow.

Y/N thought it was kind of cute.

"Is there… is there anything I need to know?" He asked quickly.

"Anything… what?" She asked confused.

"Any weird rules around the house? Any traditions? Anything I could do wrong?"

Y/N's eyes looked at him like he had two heads, "No."

"I mean that seriously, love. Any topics off the table? Does someone have a wonky eye I shouldn't stare at? You have to give me somethi-"

"Barty!" She laughed out. Her hands rested on his chest. "Take a deep breath. My parents will love you, alright?"

Regulus had a point. How could he look at Voldemort and feel nothing, yet two middle aged parents had him running for the hills?

"Are you ready?" She asked.

He nodded as he took a handful of floo powder. "I'm ready."

As he threw the powder down, the two disappeared in flames.

Their bodies appeared in the fireplace of the Potter Manor.

James was seated on the large sectional, and his heads snapped up at the sight. He smiled, "There you are. I was worried you two were too busy snogging to join us."

She took a deep breath and rolled her eyes, "Do you ever mind your own business?"

He shrugged, "No, not really."

"Where's mum and dad?"

He pointed his head over towards the kitchen.

Y/N grabbed Barty's hand and pulled him to the kitchen.

As they rounded the corner, Barty finally saw the faces with traits his beloved girlfriend had inherited.

And wow, was it now obvious to him how well the two Potter siblings resembled their parents.

"Mum. Dad."

The two fully turned and their faces lit up. Euphemia grinned and quickly walked to her, "Oh, hi, sweetheart!"

Barty wasn't used to such excitement when your own kids walks into a room.

Euphemia embraced Y/N tightly before pulling away to look at Barty.

Fleamont had leaned against the counter happily watching the exchange before his eyes too, found the boy.

Y/N turned, "This is Barty. Um… Mr. Crouch's son."

Fleamont's eyebrows raised at the mention of Crouch.

Barty felt like he could puke.

Here it comes.

"Oh. I see. Lovely to meet you, Barty."

Barty was so lost in his own mind that he barely registered the outstretched hand of Fleamont Potter. He blinked and reached out to shake it. "The… The pleasure is mine, sir."

Fleamont let out a small laugh, "Please. Just Fleamont is fine. I hate formalities."

Y/N turned to Barty, "That's where James gets it from, if you couldn't tell."

This actually made Barty let out a small chuckle.

Euphemia found her place next to Fleamont. "Our girl has said so much about you. I feel like we know you already."

That's weird, Barty thought. I don't feel scolded at all, yet.

Perhaps it would happen later.

…

Barty pulled out the chair for Y/N, who let out a small thank you, before he found his place next to her.

Though the table was large, he didn't feel intimidated as he sat there.

It was a nice change.

Fleamont sat at the head with Euphemia at the foot. Barty and Y/N sat together on one side, and James on the other.

Fleamont broke the silence, "Where's Sirius?"

James shrugged, "Washroom, I think."

Y/N's head shot up, "I didn't know Siri was here."

Fleamont grinned, "Oh yeah. You said the boys are coming over later, didn't you?"

James' grin matched his father's, "After supper, yes. We wouldn't miss watching the Quidditch Cup for anything."

Y/N sighed at turned to Barty, "It's just them yelling for four hours. Except poor Remus."

"Hey, Remus is fine." James butted in. "We feed him. He's not mistreated."

Y/N smirked, "Sure. That's what he tells you."

James cocked his head, "Oh really? And what? He tells you things?"

Y/N matched his energy, "Unlike you, he talks about his feelings."

Although there was bickering, no one raised their voice.

In fact, they seemed to be having fun.

Barty was slightly confused.

His eyes flicked back and forth, once moving to their parents.

The two rolled their eyes but held the widest grins on their faces.

They actually… could bicker for fun?

Sirius strutted in, "Sorry, Mum. Didn't mean to be late."

Euphemia smiled, "You're just fine, love."

Barty's eyes widened. Mum? He called her Mum?

His thoughts were interrupted by the continued argument.

"Remus doesn't have feelings!" James rebutted with a knowing grin.

"See? Now you just sound ridiculous!" Y/N laughed.

Sirius found his way in, "Hey! Remus is a ball of steel that lives off of sheer spite. Don't let him fool you!"

Y/N scoffed, "He's the most sensitive of all of yo-"

The two boys began to rebuttal at the same time, causing their voices to overlap.

"No, that's not true"

"Remus is heartless"

"You don't know him like we do"

"He's playing you for a fool"

Barty let out a small cough, and the entire table went quiet.

Sirius finally acknowledged his presence, "And why are you here, exactly?"

It wasn't rude. More, inquisitive.

But Barty took it the wrong way.

His head cocked to the side challengingly, "What am I doing here? What are you doing here? What? Was James allowed to bring his boyfriend, too?"

His eyes grew wide and his mouth closed as soon as the last syllable was uttered, like he didn't know who said that.

He ruined everything.

How could he ever show his face around her family again?

As he began to spiral, Sirius' mouth slowly formed a grin.

And he laughed.

The entire table broke out into a fit of giggles.

Even Euphemia covered her mouth to hold back.

James laughed until he thought he would fall out of his chair.

Fleamont's laugh came out in a boom, much like James'. 

And Barty sat there in confusion.

He just couldn't comprehend what was happening.

Sirius wiped the tears that had fallen in his laughter and sighed, "I'll fucking give that one to you, Crouch. Merlin, you're much funnier than I thought."

And cursing was allowed?

There really were rules Y/N should have told him.

…

After dinner, the family was gathered around the muggle TV James had begged them to buy. Of course, it was enchanted to play the quidditch games.

Fleamont and Euphemia had their respective chairs.

All four marauders took up half of the large sectional and Barty and Y/N spread out on the other half.

Well, Y/N had.

Barty was uncomfortably stiff in his seat, but Y/N had taken the liberty to rest her head on his lap, and lay out on the rest of the couch.

And no one had thought twice about it.

Eventually, her legs grew tired and she sat up, "I'm going to fetch a drink. Need anything, Barty?"

He looked away from the TV to her, "No. No, thank you."

She nodded, brushing her hand across his shoulders when she passed by.

She had left him alone with them.

What does he do? What does he say?

He's in the Potter Manor with all four of the marauders and the Potters. By. Him. Self.

He let out a sigh.

"Everything alright, son?" Fleamont asked.

Barty's head snapped to him. Son?

Did he just say Son?

Oh, fuck. He said Son.

He just stared.

James reached over and elbowed him.

Barty snapped out of it. "Hmm?"

"He asked if you are alright, mate?"

"Oh. Oh. I'm just fine. Long day, is all."

Fleamont nodded with an understanding smile and turned back to the TV.

Barty was too lost in his thoughts to hear them cheering at the next goal.

…

Y/N smiled widely as she sat on her bed, "Well, I'd say that went fairly well."

"I don't want to do it anymore."

Her face fell, "What? Do what?"

Barty's mind was racing as he stood barely out of the doorway. "I can't do it."

She tilted her head, "Barty. Talk to me. What?"

His eyes were staring out of the window across her bedroom, "I don't want to be a death eater anymore."

Her eyebrows raised, "Oh." She wasn't sure what to do in that moment. She wouldn't push him. It was his decision, but she was too curious for her own good. "Can I know why?"

"Your father likes me."

She nodded in confusion, "He does."

"That's why."

"You… You don't want to be a death eater because my father likes you?"

He nodded as if it was obvious.

"Okay. Um… a follow up on that?"

Barty broke from his trance to sit on the bed next to her. "My… my father isn't like that. I'm always underachieving in his mind. But… I feel like I couldn't disappoint your father."

She shrugs, "It would be pretty hard to."

Barty's jaw clenches in thought, "If we ended up even close to as happy as your parents, I'd be the luckiest man in the world."

Now it was her turn to be lost in thought. "Really?"

He nodded. "Your parents love each other. And they love you. And James. And even James' friends for some reason. I want that."

She smiled and ran a hand through his hair, "Then we'll have it."

He smiled too and gently kissed her.

She pulled away with a laugh, "Regulus is going to be upset."

He pulled her closer with a grin, "Ah, he'll be fine."

Their lips connected again.

…

"Going so soon?" Fleamont asked.

"Oh, yes. He has to be up early tomorrow, dad." Y/N said with a smile as she walked Barty to the fireplace.

Fleamont nodded and walked to them, "I'm glad you could come over, son. I hope I get to see you around more."

Barty smiled widely, "yes, sir- uh… yeah. I believe you will."

Her father's smiles widened, "Great." And he disappeared into the kitchen.

Y/N had to practically push Barty into the fireplace cause he was so lost in thought. She placed a hand on his shoulder, "I'll see you Thursday?"

He nodded, "Of course."

She grinned and stood on her tiptoes to place a light kiss to his lips. "I'll wait until then."

He smiled, "Goodnight, love."

James' head peered around the corner with a teasing grin and a dramatic tone, "Goodnight, darling. My one true love! I wait in agony until I see your face again-"

He was interrupted by Remus' hand yanking him back into the kitchen.

Y/N let out a sigh. "You'll get used to that one day."

Barty smiled, "I hope I do."

…........................................................

[astonmartingf]

REAL LIFE RELATIONS — BREAKING NEWS

mick schumacher x reader x liam lawson

series summary— the world of motorsports is vast, yet it is also very limiting. like an intricate web of relationships, connections can get you everywhere, and underneath the pinnacle of motorsports are the secrets waiting to be unfolded.

OPENING — SCARY AS HELL BUT I LOVE THE THRILL OF IT

drama seems to follow you around— after a long time of hiding the paddock puts the pieces together about your true identity.

warnings: mommy and daddy issues, toxic family dynamics, there's a bit of mystery going around so there's that

masterlist ★ next

If you had to choose between going to a family dinner with your forsaken father and stepmother of the decade or jump out the window from your apartment, hop in a hot blondie's motorcycle and run away for the rest of the evening, you'd choose none and hide in your friend's apartment.

Your reason? The family dinner is a farce you didn't have time to deal with, while the motorcycle sounds promising, said hot blondie gets attached too quickly for your own liking. And you didn't like to get tied down.

Why is it that you're so bent on "running away"?

Simple.

If given the chance to annoy your deadbeat of a father and overbearing stepmother, would you do it? You would.

And that's where hot blondie comes into the equation— he's just convenient. Especially when you learned to wrap him all over your fingers. Yuki would be disappointed in you, both at the fact that he knows how much you'd rather stay up holed in his crib, and how you're manipulating hot blondie.

If you're so hell bent on not going, why not just go with hot blondie? The predicament you're in is— you're already stuck in the family dinner.

Stopping the urge to roll your eyes, you watch them make small talk about their day. Your father is watching your stepmother with honey dripping his eyes, further reminding you of the hot blondie's invitation.

A "get out of jail for free" card he says. This wasn't your personal cell, rather it felt like a personal hell. There are a hundred other things you'd rather do, in fact you'd rather babysit your step siblings and connect with them, but no— insisting that you come with them and catch up.

Catch up?

What is this dodgeball? Because that would be fairly entertaining, you chuckle imagining yourself throwing it in between them to catch. There's no need to catch up, not with the guards they hired to keep you in check.

A headache they said, you don't mind your father calling you nicknames knowing he has given up on you decades ago. If only your stepmother would stop being so relentless in building back your relationship with your father.

Some things aren't worth fixing— your relationship with him is one of them.

Your eyes wander around the restaurant, watching people come and go under the windy London weather. The glint of a familiar helmet caught the corner of your eyes.

A few feet away from the window of the restaurant, you see hot blondie's motorcycle lights blink, calling your attention, lulling you away from your meal. You'd give it to him though, his persistence beginning to change the train of thoughts in your head. Smirking to yourself, you halt in playing with your food, taking a few bites planning the next steps to your escape.

Placing your fork down, you wipe your mouth using the napkin. "Excuse me, I'll use the powder room for a moment."

Your father grunts, nodding his head towards the bathroom, you smile courteously fighting the urge to do anything that could trigger your father's outbursts.

You weren't tiptoeing around him per say, it's more that you'd rather keep him calm and at peace in public knowing very well that your next action might burst a vessel in his frontal lobe.

Reapplying your lipstick, you clean the edges adding finishing touches before making a beeline to the back door, to meet hot blondie where he'll be waiting and save her escape the jail that is disguised–

"Going somewhere?" The voice of your stepmother causes you to freeze. Shit. She's learning much more quickly than your father.

Slowly turning around you and putting another facade in front of her, as much as you tried to hate your stepmother, she cared for you if not more than your father ever did. But caring is not enough, not at least for you. It's not an excuse to let your father continue doing what he does the best.

If comparison is a thief of joy— then they're both thieving the joy out of you. Your father for his usual antics, and for your stepmother, whose presence only reminded you of what you'll never have.

Your silence throws your stepmother off, surely by now you'd have spoken a string of curses towards her. But this time you're silent, you learned the hard way.

In a series of unfortunate events the universe keeps shoving at you, you end up causing a scene in a restaurant, which ends up with you getting grounded. One that wasn't even your fault to begin with, but your father is not a man of reason, not that he was ever a man to you. All you could see was a weak man, with a bruised ego, who is a deadbeat of a father to you.

And it hurts more seeing him playing family with your stepmother and step-siblings knowing fully well you'll never get the same affection from him. He often looked at you like scum on his feet, the lowest of lows. Which is why you knew that you couldn't act in front of your stepmother like that, not when she's the only thing holding your family together— or at least she's trying.

"You don't have to say anything. I saw his motorcycle move to the back of the restaurant, is that how you've been leaving events and galas without us?"

You raise your brow at her statement, clearly avoiding conversation. One thing you like about your stepmother is her astute perception, at some point you found yourself enjoying her company more than your father's.

But she doesn't have to know that, and your stepmother knows her boundaries, if she wanted to keep this relationship civil, she'd walk away without saying a word.

"I'll talk to your father about it, you're free to go."

You turn your heels walking away from her, scoffing— she always has to be the hero, the good guy, and because she lets you leave, you owe her one.

Grabbing the helmet presented in front of you the moment you open the back door, you slide into the back of the hot blondie's motorcycle. Arms around his waist, you close your eyes, the sounds of the engine revving up accompanied by the goosebumps glittering around you as the cold London weather lingers atop your skin.

Relish in the moment, you keep your eyes closed, pressing your body closer to his for warmth, as your bodies cut through the wind. It was your escape.

He was your escape.

"Feeling better?" The blonde asks, grabbing the helmet from your hands as you settle in a park near the river. The weather is not as cold as you thought in comparison back to when you were in the motorcycle.

"I know you don't want to hear this, but-" You roll your eyes, scoffing at his words. One thing or another at least you know you don't have to hide in front of him, not that you are being truthful to him as well, but blondie doesn't need to know anything. As long as he's catching up on the important bits and pieces, there are still lines they don't cross.

Lines that you won't let him cross.

"Then don't. If I wanted to talk to him I could've chosen to stay in that damn dinner, but guess what I'm here with you aren't I? Or is this interrogation a part of the "get out of jail for free " card?"

The blonde male raises his hands in surrender, dropping his jacket on your legs before situating himself next to you.

"Don't you think it's better for you to stay in the restaurant."

Flabbergasted, you turn around raising your brows. "I mean look at you in that fancy outfit, it's probably 8 degrees out here, isn't it much warmer there? And with food, sure the company isn't as lovely as you want to be..."

Your eyes squint, watching him intently, "For someone so adamant about me leaving the restaurant you keep saying contradicting things. Is this a test? I want to be here, I think I am capable of choosing what I want to do blondie."

Shaking his head, he chuckles at the mention of the nickname you coined a few years back. "You've got to stop calling me that."

"It stuck around with you, I'll never stop calling you blondie."

A sigh escapes your lips, thinking back on your memories together. Life was easier then, young, naive, full of life, and free from the sins that follow the controversy of your family.

Not that anyone else knew, they worked hard to keep it out of the news, now they're just whispers, fragments of the reality. Even to you, it's all a mystery.

Somehow they couldn't keep you away from the paddock, despite all the talk and hearsay about what actually happened you chose to stay and that's all because of blondie.

You're a ghost from the past— each day as you live, a piece of you slowly gets taken away. Forced to hide away from the world you didn't choose to live in.

"Heavy thoughts there... come back down?" You blink, facing the blonde beside you, your stomach growling.

"Let's go eat somewhere before you drop me off."

In an instant, the blonde stands up wiping his hands clean before hoisting you up from the grass.

"You want fries?"

Your eyes dilate, nodding your head excitedly grabbing on eof the helmets, putting it on the blonde males pushing him to start the motorcycle.

"And tacos." You mumble under the helmet causing the blonde to laugh at your antics.

"And tacos, here we go."

His voice infecting yours illiciting a laugh from your lips. He has that effect on you.

Which is why you'd never let him cross that line, what you have with each other— no one can take. Not even your father.

Which is someone you'll have to deal with once you get home, hopefully stepmother dearest has done her best to placate his anger. You didn't want to deal with any more bullshit as is.

But a funny thing about being under the scrutiny of the spotlight is that no matter how hard you try and hide, someone is always lingering around, poking and prodding, waiting for you to fuck up and shit yourself.

amgf ★ superstars @woozarts @minkyungseokie @iienstein @eugene-emt-roe

[elliezlils11utt]

jinx x f reader!

summary: jinx teaches you how to make bombs !!

content: sfw!Jinx being insane ! Fluff fluff fluff !! reader calms jinx down when she sees Milo, bomb descriptions.

wc: 515.

a/n: I’ve never written for jinx or anyone in the arcane fandom so if this is shit I’ll take it down! probably won’t get any attraction bc im genuinely insane and love jinx. if u like this PLEASE send me arcane asks for vi and jinx😓

music reverbed off the wall of the hollow room the two of you occupied. the silly girl in front of you dancing to the beat lazily. a goofy smile spread across her face. you watch her work away at the new toy she was creating. her goggles looked so cute of her head as she shook her butt to the tune of the song blaring in the background. you giggle, watching your girlfriend in her element was so fun. she looked so focused as sparks fly in front of her.

‘whatca doin baby?’

you ask, wrapping your arms around jinx. you kiss her cheek.she flips up her goggles and spins to look at you, her eyes explore your face. rapid eye movements to catch every aspect of your features.

‘workin on a new toy.’ she deadpans her expression flipping back to her work desk. she flings the bomb into her hands, holding it by the smallest part of the machine. she shoves it into your face. her teeth capturing her bottom lip into a grin.

“here, look.”

she grabs your arm and pulls you down to her level. you crouch down next to her. she rips her goggles off her face and gently places them onto yours. she kisses the goggle lense.

‘alright cutie, blue to red.’ she says quickly, pointing at two wires.

‘Hm?’

‘put the red wire to the blue one dumbass’ she laughs sarcastically, throwing her head back.

you do as she says connecting the two wires. jinx stands up and grabs you from behind, sitting you down in her chair. her body leans over yours, she takes your hands in her own and works with the trinket. guiding your hands where to go. she hums to the tune of the music.

‘anndddd, volia !! she’s done’ she holds up the toy handing it to you with a proud smile. her face looses all expression for a second.

‘no she’s not, shut up!’ she shouts out to no one. her gun jumps into her hand and points it to the corner of the room.

‘Milo again? it’s okay baby.’

you calm her down. you always feel bad when she gets upset. The figment of her past tormenting her. the death of her sibling haunting her, following her.

her mood changes again, in an instant. she giggles, grabbing the bomb the two of you had just created. she looks at you, a mischievous look plastered onto her face. she sticks her tongue out slightly before throwing the weapon into the void beneath the two of you. quickly you jump up at the loud noise of the explosion under your feet. your girlfriend giggles, grabbing your hands she pulls you to your feet.

the bomb created a tint of pink light over the room. pink powder flying all over the place. she spins you around giggling. you watch her in awe, your insane girlfriend is so perfect to you. her craziness making her unique and fun to be around. you smile and join her. dancing around the room in the haze of the bomb

A/n: If this flops I’ll know not to post arcane again🤗

[bloodynereid]

would you do a roman roy imagine where he crashes shiv and the reader’s lunch cause he’s feeling jealous of shiv having the reader attention (like in childhood despite the reader being shiv’s age) and he and the reader’s long standing “will they-won’t they” finally ends?

Lunch Confessions

pairing: roman roy x fem! reader

a/n: hii sorry for taking so long to answer this request! hopefully i did it justice. i miss rome sm omg - COME HOME! for anyone who follows me for gen v sry lol i have a ton of other hyperfixations and i'm in the midst of my succession rewatch so...

tw: roman being his usual slimy self (only for a bit tho we love him), tom bashing (only a warning if you actually like him), swearing A LOT, rich people, allusions to sex

description: a lunch meeting with shiv takes an interesting turn...

The rain pattered against the glass of your car as you fixed your hair in the compact mirror. The slick leather seats slid under the fabric of your pants and a smile blossomed on your face. You were finally back in your favorite city, New York, after having to be abroad in Tokyo for a while. Father needed some help with the expansion over there and obviously he had decided to turn to his favorite daughter.

Your family founded and owned one of the most prestigious pharmaceutical companies in the world. It had been passed down from your grandfather to your father and then hopefully to you. Thankfully your other siblings weren’t exactly interested in running the family business, which meant less competition for the throne. You shuddered thinking about the fucking gladiator fight Logan had Shiv, Ken and Roman competing in.

Your youngest brother had started up his own tech firm in Silicon Valley and was doing pretty well for himself… even if he didn’t actually manage his fucking company. Your two sisters were influencers, or rather they liked to call themselves life-style promoters but still. 

Tracing shapes on the cool glass, you closed your eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. You were on your way to go see one of your closest friends from boarding school, Shiv motherfucking Roy. Your family had always been pretty close to the Roys, especially since Logan and your father had a whole deal going on about ATN, which even after years of being at the company he still hadn’t given you the exact details about.

Roman and Shiv were the only two of the whole family that you could really stand. Ken was sort of never around - instead he preferred the company of Stewie and various powders, Connor didn’t take anything seriously which constantly struck a nerve and Logan cycled through wives like they were the newest TikTok trend.

“Miss, we’re here.” You turned towards Ben and smiled before looking up at the building where you were having lunch with Shiv.

“Thanks Ben. Go ahead and park the car. It should be a few hours.”

“Of course Miss.” You smiled and waited as he got out of the car, opened up an umbrella before unlocking the car door. Your black boots met concrete as you stepped out into the cool Manhattan air. The heels of your books clicked against the sidewalk as Ben covered you with the umbrella and you made your way into the building.

The host smiled as he saw you walk in and quickly took out a menu before waiting for you to make your way over to the main desk.

“Hello Ms. L/N, how are you doing today?”

“Quite well. I have a reservation with Shiv Roy.”

“Of course, she has just arrived. Right this way.” You nodded and followed him as he made his way towards your usual table in the more private lounge area. You instantly spotted Shiv, her red hair hanging over her face like a curtain and her fingers moving quickly over her phone screen.

“Here we are.” The host said as he pulled out your chair and placed the menu in front of you. “Is there anything we can get for you at the moment?”

Shiv looked up and her face brightened when she realized you had arrived. She quickly locked her phone and looked up at the eager host.

“A bottle of the 1945 and some sparkling mineral water for each of us.” You said, quickly dismissing the host who nodded and left to procure your drinks.

“God hi I missed you.”

“Missed you as well Shivvy.” You smiled back at her and you quickly stood up and exchanged a short hug before settling back into your chairs.

“So how was Tokyo?”

“Busy. How’s Tom?”

“Well… he’s Tom.” 

You scrunch your nose up and Shiv chuckles slightly at your expression before she takes a sip of the wine you had ordered, which was currently being poured into your glass. You fall into easy conversation, taking turns to explain all the new company gossip as you order your food and start to dig into the Michelin star meal.

“Your dad is truly insane. I mean Pierce really?”

“I know, thank you!” You laugh when you hear a familiar voice in the distance, one that belonged to one of Shiv’s many brothers.

“You invited Roman?” You asked as you cut up another piece of food in frustration. Ok so maybe going to Tokyo wasn’t all because of your father… it might have also been because Roman was so fucking happy with Tabitha. Not that you didn’t like Tabitha but you and Roman had a thing. An unspoken thing sure but still a thing.

“Fuck! I mentioned I was going to have lunch with you today and I didn’t fucking realize-”

“Shiv, it’s fine. Trust me.” You sent a reassuring smile as you patted her hand in sympathy. This honestly happened pretty often. Roman had a habit of interrupting any kind of event you had scheduled with Shiv, it had been that way since you were kids. You didn’t really get why but you were usually fine with it but right now…

“Ah if it isn’t my favorite women. Y/N, darling, you look fucking exhausted.” Roman said as he got one of the waiters to pull up a chair to your table and promptly sat down in one of his weird contortionist shapes.

“Fuck you Roman, you look like you have the plague.”

“You are so sweet to me, isn’t she Shiv?”

“I don’t understand why the fuck you decided to interrupt our lunch, Roman.” Shiv spit out, she accentuated his name with so much venom that it even made you widen your eyes.

“Aww don’t be like that dearest sister. I already know you want to fuck her so why don’t we all just have one big orgie.” Your face twisted in disgust and you thrust your foot out to hit Roman’s knee.

“Ow! Fuck.” Roman exclaimed, making a triumphant smile on your face.

“You’re fucking disgusting, Roman. Shit!” Shiv looked down at her phone and sent you a sympathetic glance. “Sorry to leave you with the fucking scum of the earth but I have to go.”

“Oh god don’t worry, go ahead. It’s my turn to take care of lunch anyways.”

“Thanks Y/N, we should reschedule without this creep interrupting us.” You stood up and gave Shiv a hug as she left the restaurant before looking over to Roman who had a happy smile all over his face.

“What’s making you all fucking smiley over there?”

“Oh nothing, don’t you just love a good female bonding moment?” Roman asked sarcastically as he stole your wine glass and took a sip.

“Ugh Roman, really? Why did you have to interrupt our lunch again?” You asked as you snatched your wine glass back and took a big gulp, you were going to need it if you wanted to survive this fucking conversation.

“Well you obviously needed saving from Shiv, duh.”

“Rome… look I love you but I don’t ever need saving from Shiv.”

“Aww you love me?” Roman said with an exaggerated sweet tone lacing his voice.

“You focused on entirely the wrong part of that sentence. Now really why did you crash?”

“I… fuck I broke up with Tabs and… I wanted to see you okay?” Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped as your heart started to quicken.

“You- really?”

“Yup, completely cut her the fuck off.”

“What? Why? I thought you liked her.”

“Eh.”

“What exactly does this have to do with my question?”

“You’re fucking blind aren’t you?”

“Excuse me? You’re the one who’s being all fucking cloak-and-dagger?”

“Do you need me to spell it out to you? I fucking missed you!” He said as he looked up to you with his hands nervously twisted the cloth napkin.

“Geez Roman, I didn’t realize you were capable of basic human emotions.”

“Fuck you.” Roman made a move to get up from his position.

“Woah Rome, I didn’t mean it like that. I- I missed you as well.”

“You have such a big crush on me, don’t you?” Roman asked with a mocking twist of his lips, the only thing that gave away his happiness were his eyes, which sparkled in the light of the chandeliers.

“Hmmm what if I do?” You said as a smirk rose up on your face.

“Y/N… now you’re playing a dangerous game.” Roman said as he leaned closer to you and dragged his fingertips down the side of your face.

“Oh I’m the one playing a dangerous game. Darling, we’ve been playing this game for as long as I can remember.”

“Fuck call me that again.” 

“Only if you promise to be a good boy and stop crashing Shiv and I’s lunches.” You said as you pushed your chair back and smoothed out the creases in your pants. Roman’s face had changed from mocking to surprised as fuck.

“Well are you coming?” You asked as you started walking to the door of the restaurant, quickly swiping your card through the reader.

“Fuck yes.”

hehe hope u enjoyed. will def try to write for succession more in the future

[wavetorhia]

homesick

james potter x sirius' sibling!reader

summary: in which you run away from home after you've had enough and find refuge in james potter.

1.3k. hurt/comfort. angst. warning: minor implications of abuse.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

it had all happened so fast.

there was yelling, screaming, and a faint crashing of glass. spiteful words filled with hatred, dripping off the tongue of the woman you once called "mother." tears dripping down your face, blurring the face of your mother in front of you.

standing in the dining room that seemed to feel bigger and isolating, your figure shrinking and shaking as glass shards crumble next to you.

"YOU ARE A DISGRACE TO THIS FAMILY! JUST LIKE YOUR GOOD FOR NOTHING BROTHER!"

hearing sirius' name only caused more heartache as you realize that there was no one to defend you now. he had run away from home. no note. no warning. you and regulus were left to fend for yourselves in this place you called "home."

"don't speak ill of my brother that way." your voice was weak and shaky, only so much as coming out as a mumble. this response however caused your mother to see red - pure rage erupting more than before.

before you knew it, the enraged woman stood in front of you, her hand raised and a stinging pain on your left cheek could be felt. the sound echoed and bounced off of the dark walls of the black residence, even merlin could have heard it from his grave.

in a loud whisper, through gritted teeth she spoke. "get the hell out of my sight."

without another word you turned around and swiftly left the room, tears continuing to fall as you ran up the stairs to your bedroom. you spotted your beloved younger brother, regulus, peaking over the hallway - having heard everything that happened. you paid him no mind, however, as you made your way to your room (also hearing him following behind you).

as you both entered your room, regulus shut the door behind him as you collapsed onto the floor. all of the emotions, pain, hurt, and suffering finally caught up to you. you felt your brother pull you into his arms, trying to provide any comfort that he could possibly give to you. muffled sobs could be heard and his shirt dampened with your overflowing tears that seemed never ending. 

it felt as if hours had passed before you could regain your breath. you let yourself out of regulus' grasp, bodies still near each other, and remained on the floor together, a deafening silence engulfing the both of you as the both of you processed what happened.

"...this isn't the first time mother has done this to you."

"i know."

"are you going to continue to let her treat you like this? how much more of this can you take?"

you were left unable to answer. regulus was right, this wasn't the first time she has unleashed her anger onto you. but today was far worse than before. you continued to stay quiet, your eyes trying to avoid regulus' as he stared at you waiting for your answer.

finally you spoke. "i can take her hits and jabs at me. but if she does the same to you i don't think i could take it."

regulus eyebrows knitted at your answer, both sadness and frustration mixed in his dark eyes.

"mother wouldn't do such a thing to me. but if you continue to stay here...she'll kill you."

at this you looked up at him, looking at his now teary eyes caused your vision to blur. a new wave of tears engulfed you both, reaching out and embracing each other at the truth behind his words. together you knew what you had to do, and the thought was heartbreaking. nonetheless, you both knew it was the only choice you had.

for the next hour, the two of you grabbed a large duffel bag and began to pack some of your things. items that were essential and valuable to you. it had soon reached three in the morning when you finally gathered all your things, exhaustion had begun to take over you and your dear brother.

looping your bag over your shoulder you both quietly made your way to the fireplace. regulus hurriedly found the floo powder and made his way back to you. taking your place inside, bag in hand, you grabbed a handful of the powder and looked up at your brother.

"be safe reg."

"you too."

a small sad smile stretched on both of your faces as you looked at each other. a bittersweet goodbye, not knowing when you would be able to see each other again.

as you said the words, "the potter residence" you could feel and see your surroundings begin to change. taking one last glance at your beloved brother, noticing his mouth wording a sentence you knew all too well, you had now found yourself in a dimly lit living room.

it was far different from your own. it was warm and cozy, a feeling of safety brushed over you just by stepping into the lovely home. trying to be as quiet as possible you made your to the couch, not wanting to wake up the residence of the home you (to put it lightly) intruded in.

sitting on the couch you finally allowed yourself to take a breath. you had finally taken the chance to realize what you had done, abandoning the life that you had been living.

you were finally free.

"(reader)? what are you doing here love?"

however, as you were preoccupied with your own thoughts, you failed to notice the figure making its way from the hallway. recognizing the voice, you turned your head to see james potter looking at you with confusion and worry. the wand was occupying his right hand lowered at the sight of you and not an intruder, and he made his way over to you.

"im sorry for coming out of the blue." you weakly smiled in embarrassment, looking down at your hands. seeing james take a seat next to you, your hands now being held by his, a small comforting squeeze causing you to look up at him.

"there's nothing to apologize for love, you're always welcome. but did something happen?"

at his question you began to remember the fight, the screaming, the crying, and even regulus. not saying a word your eyes began to water, silently begging for them not to fall but your body denied that request. james noticed the tears that fell and pulled you into his arms. quickly returning his embrace, you both stayed in that position for what felt like forever, more tears soaking his shirt.

after a while you both pulled away, james placed his hand on your cheek, his thumb softly grazing it. no words had to be said in order for him to understand your situation. it was one he had dealt with before not too long ago either. 

as he inspected your face, his eyes landed upon the bruise that had formed on your cheek. his eyebrows furrowed, his other hand reaching over to get a better look at it.

"it's okay. it doesn't hurt anymore."

you tried to reassure him that the pain was gone. however his face never wavered as he looked at the red and purple splotch.

"im sorry that you had to go through that."

"you don't have to apologize for something you didn't do."

"you deserve an apology anyway, even if it isn't from the person you want it to be from."

at those words you weakly smiled at him, a silent 'thank you' coming from your lips as you reached out to hug him again. the warmth of his body softened the tension that your body was unknowingly holding.

a gentle kiss was placed on the top of your head making you squeeze him tighter, no words being able to express the thankfulness you felt to have him here.

before you knew it, you had fallen asleep in his arms. the both of you laying on the couch as the sun greeted the moon and peaked through the windows. no more words had to be said or spoken. no need for tears. for anger. for fear.

all you needed to know, and feel, was that with him-

-you were home. 

•°. *࿐•°. *࿐

© wavetorhia 2023

[mingiswow]

Rebel Rebel | Seonghwa

Pairing: Rebel!Seonghwa x fem!reader

Word count: ~ 4.3k

Genre: dystopia, apocalypse, angst (?), smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

Summary: When the devil of a man you had the disgust of calling a grandfather destroyed the country and turned it into his little isolated dystopian world so he could rule and sell his powdered food, lots of people, animals, and vegetation died. Now, years later, you are born into this hell of a family who couldn't give less fucks about you, what can you do except rebel against this system you grew to hate? Maybe fuck your dad's biggest enemy?

Content Warning: mentions of death, family issues, cursing, fighting against the system, and sex (if I forgot anything here let me know)

Smut Warning: Filth, pure filth (I was inspired), unprotected sex (would there be condoms in an apocalypse/dystopic universe?), oral (both receiving), piv, face fucking, cum eating, multiple orgasms, Seonghwa calls reader princess and baby a lot of times, he has a filthy mouth and a big dick

a/n: another part of my Halazia brain rot series, I don't know if I'll do with all the boys, but I NEEDED to do Yunho and Seonghwa (maybe if you want you can request another member). So hope you enjoy and let me know what you think in the comments or tags or dm or whatever

You covered your head in the white hood and left the building from the back part. The path already engraved in your brain from how many times you’ve escaped the fort that held your dad and his lackey monkeys. 

You see, it’s been years since your grandfather destroyed the country and turned into something you could only imagine seeing in dystopian movies. He cut the connection to any other country, he destroyed basically every sign of vegetation and wildlife he could encounter. All because he could and he was an evil man. Ever since, your family is the one ruling whatever was left and the people that survived. But for everyone’s safety - and your own enjoyment - nobody knew who the family of the ruler was. When your grandfather was the ruler, your grandmother, as well as your dad and his siblings, were forced to be inside the fort. No one could leave or enter. It was a way of protecting not only the family but not giving the enemies the knowledge and power to enter the weak spot. Not that your grandfather cared, he was the one to kill his only daughter after he found out she escaped the building. 

Your dad, on the other hand, cared a lot about your mother and your younger brother. You? Just a mistake. Women couldn’t rule, so he didn’t give a single fuck about you, which was great. For you.

You don’t care about your life, what was the point of it? You just want to live the day as if it was last, because it can be. You found your aunt’s diary when you were around twelve years old, and became obsessed with the idea of escaping the fort. So since then you’ve been doing it. And you’re already an adult. 

It was during one of your night escapades that you met the group of rebels that was planning on dethroning your father. To say you were thrilled to go against your father but also be part of something was an understatement. 

The leader was this tall, handsome, and alluring man. His voice was sultry, low, almost like he was always whispering even when he was screaming all kinds of filthy words against your family. You caught yourself going there more often than not, as if you were hypnotized by the man. 

Over the course of the months you've been going there, a lot of the members of the rebellion tried to know more about you, to pry into your life and story but you just push them off by saying you’ve been living alone ever since your family abandoned you. Some of the days you don’t even go home knowing that they were following you, so you just sleep at the abandoned mall. 

You were quite a mystery in that group, but a good addition none the less, your ideas always turned out to be good and helpful since you’ve known your dad your entire life and the inside knowledge helped, not that they knew it was inside knowledge anyways. 

But that didn’t go unnoticed by the leader himself. He was as intrigued as everyone else by you, even his finest men couldn’t find anything about you. You weren’t registered in the country’s births for the year you said you were born or a couple of years before and after. You were a ghost. And Seonghwa wanted to know who you were. 

So when you arrived at the meet spot that night and didn’t find anyone you got scared. Were you trickered? Did they find out about your origins? Were you going to be executed? 

“Hello? Is anyone here?” You asked, your voice almost echoing in the empty place. “Wooyoung? San? Mingi?” You called for some of the rebels you’ve talked the most but still no one replied. You got up at the improvised stage that usually Seonghwa spoke and started to play as him. “These dirty motherfuckers want nothing but to destroy us. They don’t give a fuck about us the poor. They just want to sell that disgusting powder food of them” you said as you were talking to the rebels. “They are nothing but the scumbag of humanity. They just want money and power. The ruler doesn't even care about his family. Why would he care about us?” 

“How do you know he has a family?” The familiar sultry voice scared you, your body turning to the side where the sound came from, finding a relaxed Seonghwa, his arms crossed on top of his chest as his tall figure leaned against one of the pillars that held the place up. 

“Don’t you think he has a family?” You asked, trying not to sound too caught up by his presence and his questions. Was he testing you? “After all, when he assumed no one knew that he existed, what stops him from doing the same?”

“You have a point, miss yn” he walked towards you, stopping in front of the stage, arms crossing again. You walked towards him and sat on the edge of the stage, staying almost face to face with him, your feet wiggling in the air. “You are a rare figure, do you know that?”

You tilted your head genuinely curious at the man. “How so?”

“You appeared out of nowhere in our group, you have no family, no place to live and no register in the country’s systems. Who are you?"

“I’m not registered?” That was new to you. But it made sense, your dad wouldn’t risk putting you or your brother in the registers, it would be too easy to track you down. He denied. “So you went after me huh?” You smirked at the man, who simply put his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Are you that interested in me, leader?” He rolled his eyes at your question. . 

Was he interested in you? Sure, you were an intriguing being, a lone wolf in this messed up place you called home, smart, smarter than most of his men. Combined. And to say he didn’t find you attractive was a lie. The way you swayed your hips when walking or how your flesh was squeezed whenever you hugged some of the others when celebrating a plan that worked. The way you smiled or laughed at some of the jokes that were cracked to break the ice of the seriousness that they were dealing with. Or how your ass looked so squeezable and spankabe whenever you bend down to grab something. He was indeed interested in you, in both your story and your body. 

“I guess I’d be interested in a ghost if I’ve seen one as well” you answered yourself after his silence. 

“Are you telling me you’re dead and just a soul wandering around?” You smiled at him, he wasn’t usually playful, always so serious, so seeing him being slightly funny with you made your pride swell and give you a confidence boost. 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I'm a mirage. You imagined it all” he chuckled at the way you swayed your arms. 

“If you’re a ghost how can I touch you?” He smirked at you, taking two steps closer, but still not touching you. 

“Can you, sir?” You challenged him, hands resting on your sides and holding the weight of your upper body, legs slightly open and relaxed on the edge of the wooden stage. 

He felt like a winner, you were biting his bait just like he wanted. Little did he know that you knew the game he was playing and you were more than excited to play with him. 

Seonghwa took another step, this time staying in between your legs, and gently laid his right hand on your knee. “See? I can definitely touch you” you chuckled. 

“That’s what you call touch?” You got yourself up and grabbed both his hands, laying on your thighs. He instinctively squeezed them, making you smirk. “See? Like that is better” your fingertips slowly went up his arms and you could see his hairs shiver with the touch. “Have you touched someone else before?”

“Many times” he answered proudly. Men… always the same. “Have you ever been touched?” You smiled remembering your escapades with your dad’s soldiers. They were dumb but at least did whatever you told them to. You nodded.

Seonghwa finally took his hands out of your thighs and grabbed your waist, squeezing the flesh and bringing you flush against his body. You could feel his semi-hard cock under his pants and wondered if he got even bigger when hard. The thought made you bite your lips, which didn’t go unnoticed by the man that rubbed your lower lip with his calloused thumb, the tip teasing to enter your mouth for you to suck but never did. 

“And have they ever made you cum?” You chuckled at his question.

You leaned over his ear and let a breathe out, tickling his ear before speaking “Bold of you to assume I’d even let someone leave before making me cum at least twice”

“Is that a challenge?” 

“Does it sounds like one for you?” you kept looking at each other, the intensity of it making you burn inside, you were sure your wetness was passing through the thin materials of your pants.

His long fingers went under your hoodie, feeling your warm skin shiver with his touch, the tips squeezing the skin, pretty sure the indents of his nails would be a mark for tomorrow. You instinctively sighed at the feeling and his reaction was just to chuckle at your desperation. “Before we start I just need you to tell me one thing” you nodded, eyes never leaving his. “Are you sure you want to do this?” You nodded again. “I need words, princess”

“Yes, I want to” you bit your lip again, consent never felt so hot.

Seonghwa replaced your teeth with his, biting your lower lip before sucking it and starting to kiss you. You expected him to be hushed, to kiss you with desperation but no. He was soft, gentle, kind, it was such a nice contrast to his chapped lips. And a big contrast to how needy you were. His hand kept massaging your skin under your hoodie, squeezing and bringing you even closer to him. Your legs wrapped up on his waist, your core rubbing slightly with the now even bigger tent in his pants. A little whine left your lips as soon as he disconnected your lips to attack your jaw and neck.

“Can you feel it, baby? What you have done to me” he grinded on you and you felt your pussy squeeze on nothing. God, you felt so ridiculously horny for this man. His voice in your ear was like a feather, slightly touching you but still making you shiver from head to toe. If it was sultry normally, now, full of lust, was even more velvety. He kept lowering his kisses and love bites, marking your neck and chest, you definitely would have a hard time hiding it from your parents. Not that they even cared. But a little care never killed anyone.

Seonghwa stopped his ministrations and moved away from you a little so he could grab the hem of your hoodie and pull off of you, leaving your bare breats exposed to him. If once you had any ounce of self-doubt or shame it went out of the window with the way he growled before attacking one your breasts, kissing it, sucking it, biting it. His teeth grazing your niple and biting a bit harder so he could pull a little before letting it go, the stinging sensation only adding to your experience as you threw your head back and let a low moan leave your lips.

He stopped his ministrations on your chest so he could pull your face close to his again, foreheads touching and eyes staring at each other “I wanna hear you moan, I don’t want you holding your sounds like you did just now” he bit your ear, making you shiver before adding “I want everyone that passes through here to be able to know that I’m fucking you good” you nodded, eyes meeting again. “Such a good girl you are, aren’t you?” you eagerly nodded again.

You’re never the one to submit, always used to boss around the men you’d fuck, making them beg for you to touch them and making them eat you out until you came. But Seonghwa was different, there was something about him that made you a puppy around him, eager to do what he says, to be and do good for him, to impress him, make him like you. It could be your daddy issues speaking louder but you couldn’t care less, all you wanted was for this man to destroy you.

He stroked your hair, hand slowly sliding to your neck, holding it on the sides without applying any pressure. “So why don’t you be a good girl for me and get on your kness?” you could feel like a cold snake going down your body, taking shivers wherever it touched with the way he talked to you. You left the stage and kneeled in front of him, his tall figure hovering over you and you couldn’t feel smaller. He ran the tip of his fingers on your face and hair and you closes your eyes enjoying the touch. “Now put that smart mouth of yours to some use, eh? Suck me” you were dazed, your body reacting by instinct as you pulled his pants and underwear together, his penis finally getting free of the confiments of the fabric and hanging hard in front of you. 

Never in your right state of mind you’d think a dick was pretty, but Seonghwa’s was a sight to be seen. He was on the bigger size and it was thick. You saliveted imagining his girth splitting you open when he fucked you and your legs stinctively rubbed together and you could hear a little chuckle that came out of the man’s mouth when you did. You finally grabbed the member in your hands, excited with how big it looked in your hands, and took a squeeze. You licked his slit, the salty tasty of his precum touching your tongue before your started licking it’s sides slowly trying to wet the length. While one your hands stood on its base, holding a bit tight, the other went to massage his balls as you kept licking it stroke by stroke like a popsicle. Seonghwa grabbed a handful of your hair and guided your mouth to finally suck him, which you gladly did. You started to bob your head, each time trying to fit more in your mouth. When the tip hit the back of your throat it was the first time he moaned a bit louder, grabbing your head again and looking down at you, that looked up with the most innocent eyes you could convey.

“I really wanna fuck your mouth, princess” you nodded, holding his tights and looking at him one more time as a confirmation. He grabbed your head by your hair, holding you im place before starting to move his hips slowly, but as soon as he heard the filthy sounds of your mouth on his dick and the spit falling to the sides of it he lost and started to fuck your mouth fully. You tried to breathe through the nose your mouth was too busy gagging on him, his tip hitting the back of your throat repeatedly. “Fuck! You’re so hot like this” he managed to say through his grunts, right hand caressing your face softly as he cleaned the tears that started to fall. “Just a little bit more, princess. I wanna cum in your mouth and I wanna see you swallow it all like a good girl” you nodded freneticaly, holowing your cheeks a bit more as he kept using your mouth like his personal fleshlight. 

As his grunts and moans and whispers of princess started to fall more repeatedly from his mouth you could feel your pussy starting to pulse as well, his moans were so hot and you were the one causing them, you couldn’t help but be extremely turned on by the ego boost. Not only that, but anyone could walk at any minute and see you devouring his cock. With a few more thrusts Seonghwa finally came in your mouth, a bit of his semen falling out of your mouth and landing on your chest. You swallowed the thick liquid and showed your empty mouth to him proudly. “Such a good girl for me. If you keep like that I might reward you” you smiled at him, eyes hazy from pleasure. 

He pulled you on your feet and started to lick his own mess on your boobs. “Fuck, Hwa” you managed to moan. The scene alone was too hot for you, he was cleaning his own cum and your spit from your chest. He was filthy. In all the good ways.

The man got on his knees and took the rest of clothes you had, his hands squeezing the skin of your legs and going up to your mons pubis, caressing the soft skin and eye-fucking you. “Now here’s how we gonna do, you’re gonna rest your back on the edge of the stage, open your legs and put one of them on my shoulder” you did as he told you to, anticipating what was about to come. He smirked at you before without any warning or preparation attack your clit with licks. You almost fell from the sensation but your leg on his shoulder held you in place. His mouth kept working wonders on you, from his thick lips sucking you, to his long tongue licking you up and down, spreading his saliva and your wetness all over your vulva. Your hands held the edge of the wooden stage, knuckles turning white from how hard you were holding not to fall. “You taste heavenly, yn. I could eat you out all day” you don’t know how he managed to speak but you were too turned on to care, the coil in your stomach starting to grow as he kept his ministrations. “Now I understand why the men gave you at least two orgasms, I could give you so much more just by tasting this delicious pussy of yours” his hoarse voice mixed with his dirty words made you moan louder, one of the hands finally leaving the stage to hold on his hair, pushing him closer to your core.

He started to enter the tip on his tongue inside your vagina and you lost, finally coming without a warning on his face, moaning his name like a prayer but he didn’t stopped. He moved his tongue to your clit again and finally inserted two fingers inside you. You lost your balance almost falling on top of him with the sudden intrusion added to your sensitivity post orgasm. “Se.. Seonghwa… More, please” 

“More what, princess? Tell me what you need” the vibrations of his words on your clit and the rapid pace of his fingers send you over the edge instantly, your second orgasm threatening to explode.

“Dick.. I need your dick, please” your head hung back as he darkly chuckled and started going faster with his fingers. Your mouth opened but almost no sound left, you were already completely fucked out and he had even fucked you properly yet. 

“Cum again for me, baby. Cum again and then I’ll give you my cock” you nodded rapidly, a string of ‘please’ leaving your lips as he added a third finger and you finally came again, this time stronger, your legs finally giving out on his shoulders but thankfully he was there to hold you. He gently placed you on top of the stage, getting inbetween your legs and wiping the sweat out of your forehead. “Are you sure you still can take my cock, princess? You seem tired already” you denied with your head, hands circling around his neck as you kissed him. 

The kiss was once again calm and gentle, like your mouths were meeting each other again after many years and cherishing the sensations of the other. You sighed against his lips and brought your body closer to his, chest flushed against each other and warmth irradiating from both bodies. He deepened the kiss, invading your mouth with his tongue as his arms held you flush in your place by your lower back. You two made out hapilly for a while until your bodies started to grow impacient and horny again.

Without separating your mouths, he guided the tip of his member into you, slowly entering your vagina. You moaned against his mouth, face scrunching with the sudden intrusion. You were right, his girth was gonna rip you. The man didn’t say a word, but you could see by his smirk that he was feeling himself with the way you almost didn’t take his cock, stretching you open just for him to ruin you for the next men that even though of getting near you. Not that just his mouth alone hadn’t done the job.

When he felt your walls pulsating around him, he started to move slowly, being careful to not going too fast to quickly otherwise he wouldn’t last long just by the way you were squeezing him inside you. “Breath deeply, princess. Look at you, taking my cock so well” you nodded, fingers holding his shoulders. “Are you cock drunk already? I barely fucked you and you are already cock drunk for me?” you nodded again, a whine leaving your lips as he started to quicken his pace a little. “I want you to remember today, baby. I want you to remember my cock everytime you’re going to fuck those stupid men again”

“Hwa…” you moaned, head hanging low and resting on his shoulders. “I want you, only you to fuck me, please…” you choked on a moan as he sudenly started to piston inside you, his arms holding your legs open even wider, the lewd noise of skin slapping echoing through the empty room as he fucked you into oblivion. “I’m… close…”

“I can feel it, princess, me too, cum for me so I can fill you up” you threw yourself back, lower body falling almost with a thud and arched your back. With a few more thrust and dirty words by the man, you came undone on his cock, almost no sound coming out of your mouth as he kept fucking you even faster before stopping by a halt and letting his seed paint your walls. 

His body fell on top of yours, his weight comfortably reminding you that you were alive and everything was real. The following silence making you feel comforted, at home, like you never felt before. Not even at the meetings. Maybe it was the warmth of his cum and softening cock inside you, but you never felt so full, physically and emotionally. And that scared you.

After a few more minutes of you both getting your energy back, he finally came out of you, a whine leaving your lips at the sudden emptiness and wave of cold air that hit your body. He grabbed a cloth from God knows where and cleaned yours and his mess, before handing your clothes for you to put back. Even with jelly legs you managed to finish the task.

He pushed you against his chest by your lower back, a smirk on his lips before he spoke “I hope that from now on you don’t fuck that stupid soldiers of your father again”.

“I won- Wait what?” you blinked at your scared expression, like a deer caught in headlight. “You always knew?” he nodded. “I…”

“What? You thought we were too dumb to know that? You came out of nowhere, no registration, clothes made with fabric that nobody under here has access, always glowy and healthy”

“So why didn’t you guys killed me?” you asked genuinely dumbstruck. So all his talk about you being intriguing was a lie? The sex was a lie too?

“Because you are much more worthy alive than dead, at least for us” 

“So you were using me this whole time?” he nodded.

“Yes but not so much” you tilted your head in confusion. “You see, we dind’t know who or what you were until your first plan, your informations were very valuable to us, but until that day, you were just another rebelion” you looked at your feet, not knowing how to feel after all. Seonghwa grabbed your chin with the tip of his fingers, making you look at him. “Might I ask why you decided to rebel against your father?”

“He’s not my father, at least he doesn’t consider me his daughter and don’t consider him my father, I’m a woman, I can’t rule after him” you sighed and kept going. “Not that I want anyways, I hate this place and I hate this system, I wanna know the world, I wanna know different places, different people, I want to leave this country that lives like we are stuck eternally in the past. I hate my grandfather for doing this and hate my dad even more for still doing this. Those selfish bastards. I hope they rot in-” he cut your rant with a kiss and just then you realized how angry, sad and desperate you were, tears spilling down your cheeks as you finally allowed yourself to be weak and vulnerable. He held your face between his hands and looked into your eyes, foreheads touching each other.

“Let’s make a deal, you, me and the rest of the group are gonna dethrone your father with your help from the inside and when that happens, I’ll take you to meet the world, ok?” you nodded. “But you gotta promise one thing first”

“What?”

“Just fuck me from now on”

“Oh that it’s a promise I am more than glad to keep”.

This is a piece of fiction. The descriptions and actions of the people involved do not reflect the reality.

Masterlist | Request and Feedback

[grapejuicestyless]

i have had this idea for so long, but i really think you could do this justice. sort of like the film the holiday!!! but not really set in Christmas and more so through the seasons. harry moves out of the city (doesn’t need to be a singer and could just be a CEO) into a small village in a lovely cottage where all of the furniture is mismatched and there’s sash windows which are always open. He’s there for a few months before he starts to feel lonely so decides to bring in a lodger! He hand makes posters and puts them on the village hall board and … he finally gets a taker! It’s a quirky girl who is totally all over the place and she moves in .. the seasons change and so does their relationship.. friends to lovers OR ACTUALLY maybe it could be so interesting for it to be enemies to lovers! That could be fun to write. But idk I’ve been thinking about it for so long !!! They could organise a dinner party for friends one night or maybe Harry goes away to the city for a meeting and that’s where y/n realises how much she misses him / likes him. Definitely has to be fluffy but also needs to have some drama. I haven’t figured that out yet 😭😭😭 I’m so sorry for this really long rambly post but I wanted to give u as much of my brain as possible lol. I would LOVE LOVE LOVE to see what you would do with this / if it’s something you’re even interested in. Have a gorgeous evening / day / morning xxx love you!!💖💖💖💖💖

Bad People

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: Harry and Y/n met by pure luck. Sharing secrets and laughing like little kids, ribs and cheeks hurting. Y/n is sure Harry is destined to be in her life forever. She’s just not sure when that became a bad thing.

FLANGST/FRIENDS TO ENEMIES TO LOVERS

The pale blue sky looked gray from certain windows. The glass was cracked and the stove stained with boiled over soup broth and old sprinklings of spices.

The birds sang solemnly, humming the tune to what I believed sounded like something you’d hear at a funeral. Here, the pavement was cracked and the stars were consistently covered with clouds. Snow, more often than not, fell heavily. From October to April. The nearby ocean nearly always too cold to swim in. The backyard pool cold and clean, still with nobody to inhabit it.

All the beauty ripped from the earth, and replaced with another kind of it. I wouldn’t mind it half as much, if I had someone to enjoy the snow with. To enjoy the polar plunges, the visible breath and numb fingers.

Like old times sake, snowmen and snowball fights. Sledding or fort making. Rosy cheeks and icy hair a memory of the past. Cheeks hurting from smiles, not the winter chill.

The laughter of my mother was long gone, and my brother outgrew his desire for a sibling as soon as he turned sixteen. Few friends, not any at least, that would enjoy the activities the white powder offered.

So now, I look out the window, nursing a glass of wine propped up on the windowsill. I don’t see the snow day ahead or pray for a white Christmas. I pray that one day, I’ll find someone to enjoy it with me. To soothe the pain little eight year old me suffered with the absence of her father, her distant mother and her selfish brother.

“Looking at it won’t make it fall any faster, Y/n.” The puff of air coming from my nose fogs up to cool glass, and my fingers leave prints along the center.

He’s not looking at me, he rarely does when we aren’t fighting. It’s like I disgust him. I feel like a fool every god damn time.

“Have you always naturally been an asshole or did you grow into it?” I don’t look at him, but I feel his gaze settle on my reflection in the glass. His voice alone urges me to take a large drink from the wine glass. The ruby red staining my top lip. I spread it around and taste the bitterness of it on my tongue.

He begins to leave, almost succeeding without a passing glance, but biting his tongue is something Harry nor I have ever been able to do. So it’s natural how he goes for the last word.

“Theres only so much wine, Y/n.” He teases. I down the rest while he walks away. The sigh that leaves my mouth after I feel the ghost of him leaving me isn’t only for air, but because suddenly the room feels lighter.

It’s funny, how someone so special can leave such a disgusting taste in your mouth. Hatred doesn’t just happen. It creeps, seeps, saturates. It’s a pesky little thing that starts small until finally you can’t ignore how bothered you are. It’s vile and cruel. A poisonous little thing that no one is immune to. It’s a sad yet funny thing. To remember that it wasn’t always like this. I didn’t always hate my old friend, bounded to me through the home we share. I once enjoyed the company of Harry styles.

It was nearly a year since I’d moved in. A year since the slow turned to thick ice and roads became bare with people too afraid to try and navigate through the harsh winter.

Nearly a year since I first saw the house at the end of the road, with a neat front lawn and a tree with hanging branches ready to snap.

A red scarf and red mittens is what I wore. With a faded brown coat and worn blue jeans. A hat on top of my head and a journal tucked underneath my arm. He had the greenest eyes I had ever seen. The stars in the night sky didn’t quite shine as bright as his eyes, I swore it to myself.

He had an english accent, one that I wasn’t familiar with. Peach fuzz and dark chocolate curls a mess on his head. When I told him my job, he laughed, but something about his shocked expression after told me he didn’t mean it cruelly. Rather, that he was shocked, or just piecing the puzzle together.

“I’m my mother’s daughter.” I told him, “She always had a thing for poetry. The sappy ones with the tragic endings. I got it from her and I’m damn good at it.” I smiled at him then, and he smiled back bigger.

“It’s just funny. Moving somewhere so quiet for a job all about fantasy and adventure.” He explained, already guiding the two of us through the wide doorway. I set my boots in the old entryway which it seemed he had turned into a mud room. I admired the shade of green on the wall and nodded along. My cheeks hurt from smiling.

That night, while settling into my new space, I shared with him my life. My goals and dreams. With his toothy smile and boyish eyes, he made it so easy to trust him. I sat on my newly made bed and he sat in my spinning chair by my desk. Moving it back and forth, swaying slowly. A cigarette started dangling from his pocket, I still remember the way he took it between his thumb and his index finger. Rolling it around, debating whether or not to light it. It was like he didn’t know he had it.

“I didn’t take you for a smoker.” I laughed at him, he laughed back. Shy almost, only looking at me for a moment.

“M’not. A few here and there. Helps to wind down.” When he ran his hand through his hair, I remember seeing all his rings. A rose and two with his initials. One looked like a lion. That one was my favorite.

Other than his charming smile and infectious laughter, I knew nothing of him, I had come to realize. Here he was, knowing about my family and friends. My job and my hobbies. All I had asked him was his name.

When I asked him, he was just as talkative as I was. A sparkle in his eyes when he talked about his job. I remember specifically, how they lit up extra bright when he mentioned his mother, Anne, and his older sister, Gemma. I learned about his job too. Harry had everything he could ever truly want. The money, the power, the glory. His office at the top floor overlooking the bustling city that never sleeps. Families dancing around the square and traffic backed up into the city line.

The sad thing was, that even with all this pride he got to carry with his reputation, the city was no home to him. The summer held no comfort. Not the same now that he was long out of school. The heat was simply uncomfortable. His lavish suit sticking to his skin. Even the air conditioner couldn’t soothe the pounding of his head against the strong New York heat.

His nose stung in the summer. The warmer it got, the worse it smelled. Garbage littering the streets no longer covered by thick snow. Tourists and their children filling up all his favorite places of relaxation. Each carrying their own scent from home. The calming pine from the North or the tangy citrus of the west coast.

Harry felt no true love for his home anymore. No real attachment. There was no smell of home, and there certainly wasn’t any old faces with their gravelly voices and thick accents. If it weren’t for the business there, he would’ve fled somewhere else long ago. Somewhere quieter. Somewhere that felt like home. If he could, he would have tucked himself back into the small home his mother raised him and his sister in. He would’ve curled up happily in his twin bed and looked out the same crooked window each night and feel happy with only that.

He tells me that when he got in the car waiting for him at the airport, he was tempted to tell the driver to take him home, to see if it would make him smile. He’d seen the gag used in all the old rom-coms he and his mother used to watch. The short blonde running from the love of her life only to be led back into his arms. But Harry know’s better. He tells me so. So when the driver asks him where to, he tells him the address.

He told me about his work life. How there was a branch out in the UK. The one that started it all. And as his success grew, so did his aspirations and his needs. London no longer provided him with the luxury and opportunity that New York could. So he swapped out his office for a penthouse and acted like the smell of burning garbage and mysterious wet spots on the sidewalks didn’t bother him.

It’s a vicious cycle. To outgrow, to long for, to move, to hate all over again. Thats how he decided that London has just what he needed. His business within reach and smaller towns surrounding its borders.

“And what about now? Are you happy?” Harry crinkled his eyes then, smiling a nodding along. He didn’t even mind it then, when I would interrupt. In fact, he welcomed it. Claimed he loved hearing me talk.

I agreed with him when he said that the grass is greener down here. The stars are just that much brighter and theres not a single car honking their horn past nine. All things that left him feeling a whole lot calmer than the chaos of the city.

Here, Harry told me he didn’t mind not living in a lavish penthouse just a few blocks away from his work. Here, he was hours away from the city. He stays in a medium sized cape cod styled house, pre-decorated from the past owners who didn’t care to take their things when they left for something bigger. It sticks out from the rest of the homes nearby. He wonders how something so different ended up within the same area. And he smiled and sat on the floor when I laughed and told him he’d already lived quite the life for a nearly-thirty year old man.

When silence took over after over an hour long conversation, I bit at my nails and looked at the floor. Suddenly, it came to me.

“Harry?” I had asked. He hummed, looking at me. Even if I hadn’t looked back, I could still feel his eyes on mine. “What made you want a roommate?” When my eyes flickered up to his, I saw no hate, or disgust, or shame. Nothing that I am familiar with now in Harry’s eyes. I saw curiosity, warmth and happiness.

“I like the quiet. I like being able to sleep without someone yelling down the hallway. I like how green it is over here.” I nodded, waiting for him to continue. “But the quiet get’s lonely. And while I like the quiet, I hate being alone.” And it made me smile back then. Maybe it still does thinking about it know. He had been helping me in finding a home, some place warm to stay. Meanwhile, I had been able to give back. Give him what he wanted. At the time, my heart warmed.

For a long time after that, Harry made my heart beat fiercely. He brought me flowers and made us pancakes. Freshly picked blueberries from the local market. He cracked jokes and I repeated them back between our broken laughter, imitating his english accent.

He was a charming man, with an energy that invited and kept you drawn to him. Everyone wanted to be around Harry. The men and the women. Always wanting a piece of the pie. I felt rich in life, that while others had to work for a lifelong friendship with him, naturally, we fit together. We worked.

He entered my life by some kind of coincidence. I needed a place to stay and he was offering a room up.

When he brushed his thumb over my knuckles and kissed the skin, I believed we would be like this forever. Just the two of us.

When he whispered to me that he loved me that same night, I thought it was something he would never take back. Something that would never change. His warm breath and glistening eyes. He was red and shiny. A bottle of the cheap champagne sat on the table and an empty glass beside him. I let his lips trail around my hand and laugh at his antics.

“Harry.” I mumbled into the darkness, he doesn’t move. I silently giggle again after he puffs air out of his own nose onto my hand playfully. His shoulders shake with his own fits of laughter, “Harry.” I call out again, and my eyes are met with his dazzling emerald ones. I almost got lost, forgot how to talk looking at him.

My palms were sweaty with nervousness then. My heart beating out of my chest. I wanted more than anything to tell him everything. As a poet, it should have been easy to put my thoughts out in the open air. But they hadn’t sat within me for long enough to curate a straight forward answer.

How would I even manage to start on how beautiful I thought his brown hair was? Perfectly colored like milk chocolate treats that curled over his forehead. Or his toothy grin which pulled butterflies from the pit of my stomach and made me feel lighter? I couldn’t find just one thing to focus on. And the words that came out of my mouth tumbled out quickly.

“You’re my best friend.” I hoped that he would’ve been able to see how much love I held for him in my face. How even in the dim lighting of only the fireplace and the fading lamp in the corner, he could see how they sparkled just for him.

He pulled his hand away after that, clearing his throat and nodding. But he smiled so softly after that I didn’t see how his eyes welled up with tears. I only saw his perfectly pink lips and his rosy cheeks. For once, I wasn’t focused on his eyes, and I paid the price.

He never made pancakes for us after that night. Nor did he ever pick flowers from the fields or crack jokes until our stomachs hurt. My hand was never slotted between his and my head didn’t rest on top of his shoulders. His was colder, more distant. Quiet.

But the quiet grew old for us both. And the slipping away hurt more than anything I’d ever experienced. I was everyone else in his life. Fighting for a spot in the light so he would see me, smile at me, acknowledge me.

Part of me wondered why he never asked me to leave. To pack my bags and find another innocent man to love because he wouldn’t tolerate it anymore. But he never did. Harry hated being alone and I knew better than anyone else. I knew it because I was his best friend at some point. We shared the same breaths and drank from the same glasses. I wore his shirts and he used my hair clips. He kept me around not because he still wanted me, but because he still needed me. And the realization of it all hurts worse than the silence because it’s then I know that I’ve really lost him. It leaves me with the question, ‘What have I done to deserve this?’

I think back on that night when our world shifted on its axis and I go over every word that was said. I check for any signs of discomfort or anger and I find nothing. It plagues me with a new insecurity.

Maybe it wasn’t something I’d said, maybe it wasn’t something I’d done. Maybe the warmth from the champagne grew cold in his blood and the false euphoria from it all cleared from his peripheral vision and he realized that I was no longer enough. I was not what he wanted. The idea of his roommate becoming his only friend too pathetic for a man with such power.

Soon after, I stop putting up a fight. I stop fighting for a spot in his life and I stop trying to win back a man that was never mine. I figured at least if he could never be mine and I would never be his, at least I still got to see his pretty face everyday. And I could imagine that we never drifted.

I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost. The tears running down my cheeks are hot, burning my skin until my throat dully aches and my chest is red with flakes of nail polish and the dragging of my nails clawing at my chest.

I am sobbing, broken and tired. I dream of a life that is not as miserable. I dream of a life where I no longer doubt the things I love. Where I don’t have to question my friend’s loyalty.

He knocks on my door, leaning against it in only his flannel pants. He has tattoos that compliment his skin so well. He looks like a painting. I’m relieved to see him again. Even if it’s under these circumstances.

I wait for him to speak, even if it’s merely a mumble. Even if I cannot understand.

“Can you stop crying? I can’t sleep.” He requests. My lips part and I swear my lungs collapse within my chest. I can’t breathe and somehow I remain composed.

“Okay.” I say quietly, nodding along and trying to find his eyes. They look at the floor, and his face is contorted like it pained him to say that to me. Like it was against his will. But he doesn’t even look at me.

When he leaves, I collapse, shoulder shaking with rage, sadness, confusion instead of the contagious laughter that once rang out through the halls.

I decide then, July moon shining through the sash windows of my room that I couldn’t continue holding onto Harry. My heart still beats for him and my eyes still sparkled when his own lingered for just a moment longer on me, but I couldn’t like him.

Hatred doesn’t just happen. It creeps, seeps, saturates. It’s a pesky little thing that starts small until finally you can’t ignore how bothered you are. It’s vile and cruel. A poisonous little thing that no one is immune to. It’s a sad yet funny thing.

After that night, his selfish wishes turn to bitter comments which turn to vicious attacks at my confidence. And my resilience and devotion to silence, to ignore the cruelty of it all is worn thin. My bitten tongue is freed and I am betrayed by my own words. My own comments targeted at his deepest hurts. It’s a mutual hate between us, a mutual dislike.

We live within the same four walls, the same windows and creaky roof over our heads. We cook in the same kitchen and we sit on the same couch, but we cannot stand each other anymore. The house is no longer filled with love, and the warm heat turns to bitter cold. And yet, neither of us have the guts to leave.

We sit here, in a life thats so mean to us just because we are afraid of the loneliness that is surely to come with the other’s absence.

We are here, but we aren’t present. It makes me laugh, it makes me wonder.

Who could ever leave me? But who could stay?

The candles burned down to the floor, wax melting over the wood as the lights set a warm, homely mood for the night. The late December rush throughout the town turned to the few and far between searching for last minute supplies to ring in the new year. It’s peacefully still outside, and the dining room looks so nice I forget why the candles burn and our nicest plates are set out.

Harry insisted on having a small gathering with some of our friends to celebrate the new year before he went away for sometime for work. Being roommates, despite our lack of interest in establishing our own friendship, his friends become my friends and mine become his. It’s a fairly large group that was once two. But have now become so closely intertwined that it seems hard to differentiate who was friends with who first.

There was wine, pastas and breads. Hams and potatoes. Drinks and endless desserts. It felt nice, to have all those people we cared so deeply about chip in and help to create such a lovely meal for the few of us.

Hearing that first doorbell ring to see all of our friends stood proudly on our crooked doorstep made my heart flutter. Sarah, Mitch, Pauli, Elin, Charlotte, Nyoh. All holding various foods to add to the never ending supply on the multiple tables set in a row.

“Harry! Y/n!” The enthusiasm from our friends seemed to lighten the mood, letting the heavy feeling of heated arguments and constant anger slip down my back and into the farthest part of my brain.

It was times like these where I’d forget how to hate. How to spread anger and disgust to someone who clearly showed none of it in return in these times. Here, Harry was talkative. Always plastering on a fake smile and wave.

He was good at pretending. And while the walls of the house had seen a different story, those around us were innocent, forever unknowing of how Harry constantly belittled me, bothered me. Of how I was no better. How my tongue was sharp and my words shot to kill.

Nobody minded the difference in height of the dinning room table against the kitchen table. How one was round and the other a rectangle. Both covered by one long table cloth. Nobody minded the soft music in the background or how the light wasn’t the brightest. The soft flickers never mentioned.

We let the candles burn until they had nothing left to give, and we ate until it was bare and our stomachs hurt. Here, I never felt like I was trapped. Here, I remembered by I came to live with Harry in the first place. And I was thankful. It was times like these I couldn’t help smiling like an idiot. Cheeks sore and eyes crinkling. I would laugh at just about anything, trust anyone and agree with everything.

“When are you going to tell him?” An elbow to the ribs pulled my gaze from the end of the table, my smile dropping for only a moment at the sudden shock.

“Sorry?” I mumbled softly into Sarah’s ear. Her eyes glimmered with something mischievous, like she knew something that I didn’t. She licked her pink lips and looked briefly back to the end of the table. All the way over by the dining table, sat a few feet away and a couple inches higher, was Harry. Laughing and talking with Pauli and Elin about anything and everything. I couldn’t quite make it out over the soft chatter of Mitch and Charlotte and the clinking of forks on plates.

“Harry!” She called softly. When my eyebrows furrowed she rolled her eyes, sighing heavily.

“I don’t get it.” Forking another bite of vegetables into my mouth, I watched her fight for the right words to say. Her lips finally settling on the soft smile I knew very well.

“Don’t play dumb, Y/n. I know that look. Better than anyone. Thats how I look at Mitch.” She playfully nudged my shoulder. Did she believe that I held any romantic feelings for Harry? I couldn’t, it was impossible. Right?

His rude remarks and his mean demeanor. Sure, at one point my heart beat for the brunette with an infectious smile and shiny green eyes, but now it was a memory of the past. Another pretty face who had thrown away all of his charm and care and exchanged with unwavering cruelty.

“Oh, no. Sarah, I don’t think about him that way.” I tried to wave her off, trying to sound the least amount disgusted by her assumption. I couldn’t help but wonder why she thought that.

“I don’t believe you.” She sounded smug, crossing her hands on my thigh and giggling. “You don’t have to. I believe myself.” Brushing her off, I take another bite of any remaining scraps on my plate. Trying to avoid conversation.

“Come on, you seriously don’t see it?” She sounded exasperated now, even more so when I nodded carelessly. She was getting tired of my avoidance to the conversation, my disinterest in her false discovery. Still, the longer she pushed, the more I felt the heat rush to my face. The more my cheeks burned and my skin tingled.

“I’m serious, Sarah. I don’t look at him in anyway. He’s just my roommate. Nothing more, nothing less.” I lean back, volume brought down to a mere whisper with the dying laugher at the other end of the table.

“Well, he’s your friend at least, right?” The lump in my throat was unswallowable. With the growing tightness in my throat and the clamminess of my palms. I wanted nothing more than to slip away and pretend this never happened. So, I bite my tongue and nod, eyes flickering to Sarah while I do so. I pray that she doesn’t see the tears welling in the corners and how glossy they’ve gotten in such a short period of time.

“Yeah, he’s my best friend.” The lie stings, burning as it comes out. Partially because I hate lying to my dear Sarah, but mainly because at some point it was the truth.

Harry was my everything at one point in my life. He might as well have hung the damn moon and stars. I thought the world of him, wanted nothing more than to feel his arms wrapped around mine all the damn time. And it killed me that we’d gotten so far away from that idea that I had to lie about even being acquainted with him.

“Word of advice.” She started, eyeing Harry carefully. My eyes remained glued to the table, fork wobbling between my pointer finger and my thumb. “Best friends don’t look at each other that way.” And when she finished what she wanted to say, I swear my heart just about stopped. All color draining from my face and my eyes rapidly blinking away the tears by now.

Setting my fork down, I ignore her playful smile and the nudge of her shoulder into mine. I look for another face to converse with, to make me begin to forget everything I was trying so desperately to escape. When I search the table, it seems like each person has found themselves in deep conversation with the other. All but one.

And his green eyes capture mine in a way I haven’t known in so long. I’d forgotten what it was like to be the center of his gaze. How thrilling it was. With my eyes, glossed over and heart beating through my chest, it seemed impossible for me to ever consider looking away. His chocolate brown curls and sweet pink lips in a gentle smile. It was consuming and alluring. Irresistible even.

A face that once disgusted me, shattered my heart, angered me and knocked me down with no air left to breathe seemed not all that frightening anymore. And the warmth that spread in my chest scared me more than anything.

I begin to realize, maybe Sarah was right. Maybe that was why I hated him so much. I didn’t hate Harry Styles. And thats why it hurt just that much more. I didn’t hate him at all, in fact. No, rather my poor heart couldn’t handle the heartbreak and deflected in the most malicious way possible. I missed my best friend.

“Y/n.” Sarahs voice pulls me from my haze, and my eyes are flickering over to hers quickly. Lips still parted and eyes still wide.

“You’re crying.” I hadn’t felt the salty heat dripping down my cheeks until she announced it. My skin too numb from embarrassment to even understand what was happening.

My tongue is tied, and my throat is killing me. I feel like I might vomit if I stay here any longer. I can’t be here any longer, I can’t do it. Not when I’ve just realized what I did. I feel what I felt all those months ago when Harry told me to stop crying. When he shut me out for good and became bitter. I feel all air leave my lungs and my knees wobbling. I am going to collapse.

“I just need air.” I say all too loudly, pushing out the chair clumsily and stepping back. The loud scratch of the wooden legs of the wooden floors turns heads and my heavy breathing tells me to get the hell out.

I pardon myself after that, waving off any concern from Sarah, and making sure nobody else saw my escape. Everyone’s still deep into conversation when I turn the corner. All but Sarah and Harry. But neither of them make a move to reach me. I let myself collapse on my bed, mascara running down my white sheets and back aching from how stiff I became at that table. I silently pray that I’ll sleep through the rest of winter.

When the dinner got cold and we’d all run out of things to say, we all look around and silently agree to part ways. It was nice to have some company, I enjoyed being around these people so much. My heart should have been full, yet it felt heavy and empty all at the same time. Littered with a guilt I wasn’t even sure was mine.

I’d seen the way she looked at me. Really looked at me. Glossed over eyes and a quivering lip. She was red with the rush of adrenaline in her blood. Anyone could see how quickly she began to breathe. It was like she was stuck, consumed by something so strong that it left her powerless, weak, crumbling quickly under an undetermined pressure. She started to cry, biting back a sob by biting harshly into her bottom lip, eyes shaking while she searched my face. I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. Who had said what, and how I could help her.

I wanted to yell at whoever hurt her this bad. And the feeling of that in itself was unsettling. How my heart still longed to comfort, protect the heart of the girl who once shattered my own with her own words. More than that, I wanted to scream when nobody followed her when she ran. How nobody cared nearly enough about why she was so upset.

I couldn’t understand why I was so invested in her. Someone I was sworn to hate. Someone I had teased and fought for months and let hurt me constantly in retaliation.

But then again, we were no better than one another. We never were. Always saying too little and not opening up quite enough. Creating issues instead of solving problems. We were explosive, nobody could hurt me quite like she could and yet, I felt horrible that she was so upset.

Like the day I’d found her pacing restlessly across the floor. Skin blotchy and eyes puffy with tears. Throat sore with the violent sobs ripping through them. I’d wanted to hold her then too, but I was too bitter to do anything but tell her to quiet down. I felt the same guilt in my bones. And I make the same mistakes I made the first time. I watch her break down and sit with the uneasiness of it all.

Mitch lays a hand over my shoulder, his other arm wrapped around Sarah as he leads her through the door. His eyes look sad and tired. But his smile is genuine and filled with concern.

“Check on Y/n for us okay? Sarah thought it would be best to leave her be for now.” His hand left my shoulder and the door shut quickly after. Leaving me with the unbearable silence and loneliness I felt so frequently nowadays. It breaks down my walls and scares the shit out of me.

Maybe thats why I make my way to the kitchen, shuffling slowly along the floors and leaning slowly over the makeshift tables. A bottle of rouge in one hand, a pack of cigarettes in the other. I stuff them in my pocket and hold the bottle close to my side.

I’m slow, delaying the inevitable question. When I knock on the door, it’s quiet. Almost like I’m hoping that if it’s soft enough, she won’t hear and I can pretend she was ignoring me. But, she does hear me, and she calls out a raspy, muffled welcome, signaling for whoever was hidden behind the door to come through and take in her puffy eyes and wet cheeks.

My throat tightens when I smell her perfume. Something that I would have drowned in not so long ago. She has clothes thrown on a chair in the corner, the same one I sat in so many months ago. I’m tempted to push them off and just sit in the silence with her like we once enjoyed doing.

Her head is in her pillow and her arms are underneath her. She is unaware of who she has let in, but her silence and unmoving body tells me she’s lost all ability to care. I want to leave. I want to turn around and convince myself it was all a mistake. I’d checked on her and she was still alive and well. I’d done my part and I could go on guilt free and forget about how crushed she’d looked just hours before.

When I begin to turn on my heels and pray for this day to be over, I see something unforgettable. A small Polaroid from last year. Just weeks after she’d moved in and charmed me with her beauty and whit. She’s sat with her legs over my lap and my arms around her body. We couldn’t be any happier, and the memory makes my chest sting.

She still cared enough to keep up the old memories of us, even after all the fights and mean glares. Why did she have to keep the damn photo up?

Guilt consumes me once again, and I am faced with the sad woman in front of me, still in the same place as before and just as sad as before. My feet betray my mind, and soon I am stood beside her bedside table with a bottle of wine dangling between my pointer finger and my middle finger.

The glass knocks against her shoulder in a silent invitation. My eyes wordlessly asking her to follow. Her eyes are red, and her lips still shake. She looks completely torn apart, desperate and distraught. Disheveled even. But for some reason in my blurry head, all I can think about is how absolutely beautiful she is in the pale moonlight.

“Come on.” I ask her softly, offering her my hand. When she takes it, she’s nodding already. Trusting a man who deserves no second chances, no trust whatsoever for his cruelty and his inability to communicate. But she follows regardless.

I can’t help but realize how having her so close feels good.

He lights the cigarette for me and watches as I let it burn. My lips twitch as they wrap around the end, tasting the bitterness of its contents and the dry paper.

“How did we end up here?” I ask him, looking over the horizon. The waves are calming over here. They almost silence the ringing in my ears, despite the distance between where we sit, feet dangling over the empty pool edge and the large grass behind it.

He shrugs, snagging the cigarette from my hand delicately and taking a long drag from its end. We swap, my hands wrap around the neck of the wine bottle. It’s tinted green and nearly full.

“Unlucky people, I guess.” He looks at his feet. They dangle in the pool beside mine. You can see just how close we are in the turquoise tint. How the lights make us look less vibrant.

“I wouldn’t consider us unlucky.” I look at the sky, and I can feel his eyes on my face. It makes me swallow, how intense his gaze is. It almost makes it feel that much more real.

“Why’s that?” He asks, twisting the bud out on the cement. It stains the freshly cleaned grey stone an ashy black, but I bite my tongue.

“We had each other. Maybe we aren’t the best people, maybe we’re cruel, but I’d rather argue than live in solitude, right? Company can’t be bought. Even the most painful of it. That’s something real. Something without a price. And we’ve got it.” And it’s true. We fight and we throw shit. We stain the walls and rip the curtains. We start fires and try to blame the other. We make a mess and make amends. But a house isn’t a home without someone to share it with. And at least if we had to suffer to get there, we got it.

“Thats some of your poet shit.” He laughs sadly into the silence, looking at his feet. I laugh along, though I can tell he was only half joking. Then, I let the silence wash back over us. Forgetting how we almost had a full conversation.

“I’m not a bad person. I don’t know why I’m so mean.” He says sincerely. It’s sudden too. I can tell from the rawness in his voice. How his eyes tear up and his lips quiver. His voice cracks. Our feet hang off the edge of the backyard. It’s a quiet life. Even now. With our fights and all the fraud. But it’s never a lonely life, and we only have each other to thank for it.

I want to tell him I know, and I’m so sure of it. I’ve seen the real him, we might just not mesh together. But we once had, and that fact alone holds me back. He takes the lack of response and an opportunity to excuse himself. Pulling his body up by the arms and grunting through the sliding back door. I sit alone in the backyard for hours, body curling up into itself and layers of clothing becoming less than enough after some more time.

“I know.” I whisper into the silence. I know he’s not a bad person, I know it so well and I am so certain of it. I knew Harry once. He’s loyal and kind and the smartest man I’d ever met. And I miss knowing him like that so much.

I thought for a second tonight, I’d gotten part of him back. And maybe I had, but he left so soon I couldn’t really tell all that well. He’s left me back in the silence, wondering what happened to us, and what will happen to us. Why he came to get me, and why he even bothered to open up to me. But he never gives me the time to properly ask, even if I planned to.

I ring in the New Year alone.

The next morning he’s gone. Back to New York for his business in the big city and I am left to sit and think about what was said. A half empty bottle of wine stained with my red lipstick and glitter on the floor from old party poppers Charlotte and Elin had made sure to use before making their exit. I repeat his words.

He’s not a bad person, so why is he so mean? It’s best left unknown. Because if theres one thing I fear more than anything, it’s the realization of rejection.

Even from a man I hate so entirely, it consumes me. That I could not stand to be faced with the fact that Harry and I do not get along simply because we do not work and not because of some other underlying reason.

After all, we had it all. Gave each other everything the other had wanted. Food, shelter, company. There was really so explanation for the bitterness between us.

After all, all this time, despite his anger and hatred, he never left me to the wolves. And despite my heartbreak and sadness, I never left him with an empty home.

A wise man once said to never bite the hand that feeds it. Yet, here we are. Ripping skin from bone until we are left with nothing. We are the ungrateful, the selfish, the cruel. And we both believe that we are in the right.

I am so scared of rejection from this man who I claim to hate because he is the hand that feeds me and I am the hand to him.

We aren’t bad people, so why are we so mean? We recognize all we have to be grateful for, so why do we bite the hand that feeds us?

I guess the vulnerability of it all must have scared us. And while facing the storm, we did what all people do. We let fear consume us and we bite.

Somehow, through all of this. The realizations and the tears and wine and dusty ashes, I love him. Even with my teeth sinking into his skin and his own in mine, drawing blood, I love him. I love Harry Styles. He is my best friend and I am his. That is why I am scared and that is why it hurts so bad. Not because I simply missed him, but rather because my heart was devoted to a man who did not want it.

My fingers fumble over the pad on the phone. I type up his phone number by heart and let it ring. He answers quickly, still waiting for his plane at the airport.

“Y/n?” I can hear the bustling crowds around him and the loud engines taking off from other terminals. I imagine he is plugging one of his ears and mentally cursing the noise for making it so hard to hear.

“Come home.” My breathing is unstable, and my hands run through my hair so much I create new tangles by my neck.

“What? No, Y/n, I have to go. People are expecting me.” He starts to explain how important this is for his business. How it would be so much simpler to be there rather than over a computer screen.

“Fuck them, who cares! Harry, I need you, and I want you, please just listen to me for once. Don’t scoff, or…or roll your eyes or leave! Listen to me this once and if it’s not worth it to you, I promise you’ll never have to listen to me again. Please, it’s important.” I ramble, endless pleas met with silence. I can feel the rejection coming, I can hear the way he chokes on a breath, debating what I said.

“Okay.” The phone goes dead with his promise to come home. With the continuous beeps, I slowly come to terms with what I’d just done. But I do not feel panicked, or scared. I feel lighter with the fact that I am about to tell the moody boy something I wished I told him a long time ago.

The door opens with a creak, keys jingling in his large palms. I’d spent the morning pacing the kitchen. Leaving a trail of confetti behind in my wake. I hadn’t cared enough to clean with my endless thoughts and extreme amounts of adrenaline.

“Y/n?” His voice was unsure when it rang out. As if he didn’t know what to expect. The door shut behind him not long before I came rushing around the corner, fingernails bitten to the skin and hangnails bleeding profusely.

“God, Y/n what the hell…” Taking my hands into his, he examined the redness of my irritated skin stained further with dry blood.

“I know.” I looked at him, and he looked back at me like I was crazy.

“What?” His thumbs bent over the backs of my palms, holding me in front of him.

“I know.” I breathed out again, looking at him with such sincerity, praying for him to understand. “You’re not a bad person, and I know it because I know you. Because we fight and we tease and we scream and cry. But I know you because once we didn’t do all of that. And I needed you to know that because it wasn’t fair of me to make you believe that to be true after everything you’ve done for me.” My voice shook with how vulnerable I felt myself becoming. Harry’s hands only tightened the further I explained.

“But what about all I’ve done to you. Y/n, I’ve been awful to you and I never even told you why.” He tried to argue. I shook my head, biting my lips.

“I haven’t been much better.” I smiled sadly. He shook his head back.

“No.”

“Yes.” I blinked hard, pushing back the tears that formed watching his own gather by his waterline.

“No, Y/n, I’ve been horrible. I’ve been mean.” He tried to push away everything I was trying to ignore.

“And so have I.” I tried harder to make him understand.

“But you only did it because I had. And for what?” He finally spoke, voice raised with so much desperation behind it, I froze under his touch.

“Because I loved you so much it drove me fucking insane? Because I still love you and I’m afraid if I can’t get you to hate me I’ll never be able to stop.” He was crying now, pleading with me to make me see his side of things. All I could do was shake my head.

“Harry I could never hate you.”

“But you could never love me.” He argued.

“Thats not true, Harry tell me you know that it couldn’t be true.” I rip my hands from his grip to rest them on his cheeks. I try to wipe away his tears, but his hands cover my wrists and pull them back down.

“How could I? You said it yourself. All those months ago, I told you. I held you close and I told you I loved you. You told me I was your best friend. You couldn’t even pretend!” Neither of us could tell if he was angry or just sad. Maybe both, but no amount of denial would calm him down.

“I didn’t have to, I still don’t have to pretend! Harry, I only said that because I was so fucking scared. Scared of us, of me, of you. Of losing you if it didn’t work. And I lost you anyways, I would’ve just said it if I knew I’d lose you like this.” Our chests bumped and his fingers slipped between mine.

“Y/n.” He whispered into the silence, over our heavy breathing and salty tears.

“I love you, and I miss you.” He didn’t say anything. I could feel him slipping away as soon as his response never came. Not a single word left to say between us. Not a single amount of energy left to fight.

And then he was kissing me. Hard and sweet. Like I was everything he’d ever wanted and more. Like he was hungry, needing more and more of something he had always wanted but could never have. And at the same time, it was soft and tender. Like he never wanted it to end. My back arched within the grip of his wandering hands and my fingers tangling in his curls. I swore I would never let him go.

But it was a swear I couldn’t keep, because air dwindled quickly and spit strung between our lips. Something I would usually gag at, but didn’t mind at the moment. His forehead against mine and arms gripping the fabric by my hips so tight if I moved he could have ripped it.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized in between his heaving breaths.

“Me too.” Looking at him, I could see the red staining his lips from the makeup I’d slept in. It made me laugh, which in result made him smile.

“What? What!” He laughed along cluelessly, letting me back away for a moment.

“You have something-“ I pointed again his mouth and smiled.

“Oh do I? Do I?” He kissed my cheek, smearing the remnants of our kiss across my cheek. “Still there?” He asked with a sly grin. Like he knew he was winning.

So I kissed him hard again, smearing red around his skin and his pink lips with so much love, there was no denying my feelings anymore. There was no hate left to give.

“Yeah, you do.” It was yet another fight, but not one I minded.

After all, thats what we did for so long, it was what we were good at. The teasing and the fighting. Only now it wasn’t bitter, it was playful. And we didn’t coexist with the sole purpose of it.

Because now I was his and he was mine. And this knowledge answered all my questions, all my doubts I’d had before about our relationship and our shared insecurities that led us down this scaring path.

Harry was my best friend, and I was his. And there was no love greater than that.

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Touch: Winter (Benedict Bridgerton x Reader)

Benedict Bridgerton x fem!Reader Rated: G, fluff and romance Word count: 1.5k Masterpost Next part Summary: A snowy visit at Aubrey Hall with your friend Eloise and her family.

You are bundled into your carriage, watching the snow-covered fields roll by on your way to Aubrey Hall. Your friend Eloise Bridgerton invited you to visit after the Christmas holiday, and you eagerly accepted. You have been bored out of your skull, trapped in your own country estate for the cold season with just your parents, and Eloise is one of the most interesting young ladies you know. Though some might think it an odd friendship because she is a few years your junior, she is the only lady you have found within the ranks of the ton with whom you can have a conversation that ventures beyond hair styling and gossip. You both love to talk about books and art and politics, to dream of travels you’ll never actually go on, and to just plain have fun. Your mother says your inclinations toward such things are the reason you aren’t married after three seasons.

Aubrey Hall rises into view, looking like an ice palace against the white grounds. You already feel your spirits lifting, even before you and your maid exit the carriage and are greeted by the retinue of Bridgertons. The day passes in a whirlwind as Eloise and her three younger siblings drag you outdoors to march patterns through the snow and pelt each other with snowballs. Eloise is a crack shot and Hyacinth resorts to shoving a handful of frozen powder down the back of her elder sister’s coat for revenge. Though you are having fun, you do wonder if you are perhaps too old for such activities, when you suddenly turn and see your numbers on the field have doubled. Eloise’s three older brothers, all dark-haired and ravishing, have joined in the fray, shooting snowballs at the younger children with deadly speed and accuracy. Beside them, the Duke and Duchess of Hastings, another Bridgerton sibling and in-law, take aim at the eldest brother, the Viscount. Everyone is running and dodging, shouting taunts and encouragements, and crowing with joy.

That evening, when you have all changed out of your freezing, sopping clothes and gathered around the dinner table, the conversation is lively. You still can’t fathom how a family can all be so close with one another - nor how they can all be so attractive. You try to maintain your manners, but you can’t help your eyes wandering from brother to brother. Anthony, Benedict, Colin. All so similar looking, and yet so different in personality. Chestnut hair, piercing eyes, wide smiles. A voice in your head reminds you that they are all currently unattached, but you shake the thought away. You have no interest in searching for a husband right now, especially not amongst your friend’s brothers, even though they may be some of the most eligible bachelors of the ton.

The next day brings a storm, silent but unrelenting curtains of snow billow outside the windows. You have never felt more cozy than in the drawing room, reading on sofas in front of the roaring fire with Eloise. You share passages and thoughts throughout the morning as other siblings file in and out, warming themselves by the fire or plucking at the piano. Gregory and Hyacinth engage in a raucous game of marbles at your feet before wandering off in search of food. At some point, Benedict enters and sets up an easel by the far window, then begins to paint, frowning as he looks out repeatedly at the white blur.

You should keep your eyes on your book, but they keep wandering to him. He has no jacket, and the sleeves of his ruffled shirt are rolled up to his elbows. His red gilded waistcoat is unbuttoned and he wears no tie. You’ve never seen a man dressed so casually who is not related to you. His brow is furrowed in concentration, and he chews on his lips as his hands glide through the air, dipping his brush into the palette on his arm, then floating across the canvas before him. His hands. They look strong, with impossibly long fingers, but they move so delicately as he holds his brush. Something about the way the light is hitting him, the way he is so singularly focused, the way his brow is quirked…

He lets out a frustrated groan, making you jump out of your reverie. You just hope Eloise hasn’t noticed but she keeps her eyes on the page as she calls out lazily.

“Something bothering you, brother?”

Benedict swipes the back of his arm across his forehead. “This is rubbish,” he grumbles. “Why on earth am I trying to paint a landscape inside? I should have finished this yesterday before the weather turned.”

“It can’t be all that bad,” you say, trying to encourage him. You just want to see that crooked smile on his face again.

“That’s very kind of you, Miss y/l/n,” he sighs. “But this one is probably bound for the fire.”

“Oh come now,” and before you know it, you are on your feet and walking across the room toward him. Your boldness surprises you, but you feel magnetized in his direction, so eager to make him feel better. “Let me see.”

You stand beside him in front of the easel and see a snow swept landscape, half-finished on the canvas. White hills under cold shadows, with thin evergreens stretching into the distance.

“It has no life in it,” he says quietly beside you.

You aren’t an expert in art, but you know enough to know that he’s wrong. Even unfinished, and even with so few colors used, it is beautiful. It is perfectly capturing your feelings in this moment, this cold but lovely country visit you are enjoying.

“I wouldn’t say that,” you counter. “It is very evocative. The trees are so lifelike. Truly, Mr. Bridgerton, you have more artistic talent than I could ever hope to possess.” It’s not an exaggeration. You are genuinely impressed.

His brows raise. “Have you tried your hand at painting, Miss y/l/n?”

“For about five minutes,” you smirk. “It was abysmal. I much prefer going to galleries now, and leaving the work to more skilled hands.”

Something lights in his eyes - cheeky and perhaps a bit devilish. A tickling feeling runs down your spine. 

“Not everything is that difficult,” he smiles. “Like these trees you admire. Here,” He presses his brush into your palm, already filled with green paint, and he stands slightly behind you as he points to the canvas. 

“Add another one there. Just feather the brush left and right in layers to make the branches.”

You look at him, nervous to ruin his beautiful artwork, but the warmth in his smile invites you to proceed. Focusing in, perhaps too hard, you swipe the brush left and right and make a fat little blotch of a tree next to his elegant renderings.

He chuckles softly behind you, then suddenly he steps close against your back, and his hand is wrapped around yours, holding the brush between both of your fingers. You exhale shakily, your every nerve set alight at the closeness of him, the heat of him wrapped around you. His hand, streaked with paint, envelops yours, his fingers soft. You can finally appreciate the slender length of them, can see the glint of pale hairs and the veins running from his knuckles up his bare forearm. You feel flushed and hold your breath, trying to stay upright, trying to act normal. 

“Like this,” he says softly, then guides your hand, dancing it around the canvas to make another beautiful tree that blends in perfectly with the rest. As your joined hands move, his free one comes to rest suddenly on your lower back, pressing with gentle but steady pressure, holding you still under his instruction. His grasp is so large, the pads of his fingers pressing through the fabric of your dress, somehow gentle and possessive simultaneously.

You don’t even know what you’re painting anymore. Your mind is growing fuzzy, all of your body is overheating. 

“Very good,” the pitch of his voice drops low, barely above a whisper, rumbling from deep within his chest, and his breath is hot across the bare skin of your neck . You want to lean back into him, to let him orchestrate all of your limbs in whatever way he wants to. You want to be wrapped in his arms. You wonder how he will respond if you ask him for regular art instruction. You are probably going mad…

Then Hyacinth comes barrelling into the room shrieking about Gregory and a ribbon. You snap your eyes toward her and Benedict gently releases you, stepping away and leaving the brush in your hand. Eloise looks over from the sofa, clearly unaware of anything that has transpired. The fire continues to blaze in the fireplace, but it is not the reason you need to retire and fan yourself.

That evening at dinner, the Bridgerton family shenanigans continue, but you are somewhat withdrawn. You smile politely at everyone but your mind is elsewhere, reliving…wondering… And there is only one Bridgerton brother who draws your eye that night.

[deathbxnny]

Hi there, So i was crying for about 10 minutes i think and decided to watch youtube to heal my heart until i saw something that just make me had a thought that is now spiraling out of control! Can i request a Trailblazer (Caelus and Stelle) x s/o like Traveler from Genshin Impact.

Yup, Im talking HSR MC X GENSHIN IMPACT MC alright 😀👍

So context on the Traveler s/o:

Them and their twin sibling are Emanators chosen by the Aeon Akivili and were given abilities to travel the galaxy without needing to ride the Astral Express. Throughout the galaxy, they were known as the Celestial Twins, as even after Akivili’s death, them and their sibling still continue to trailblaze until one day something happenend that cause them and their sibling to be forcibly seperated and have their abilities sealed. (Possibly caused by the Anti matter legion 👀)

So now stuck in a world by themselves, the traveler spent decades to get out of the world their stuck in. Which was hard as their abilities are now sealed. But one day, the Astral Express crew had just arrived in the world the traveler was stuck in and met with the traveler. The crew instantly knew that the traveler is one of the Celestial Twins and allowed them to join the Astral Express crew.

I wasnt lying that this idea had gone out of control and im honestly excited to see what your going to make with this request as i really really love your work. Hope you have good day!

- Flower Anon 🌸

-----♡

A/N: Hello again, Flower Anon! I love your idea and tried piecing something together for you and hope you'll like it! Thank you for the request and support!<33

((Also I was listening to "Powder", "Leeches" and "Light Shower" by Melanie Martinez whilst writing this btw... I'm obsessed with them and the new album-))

Content: Fluff, some angst, mutual pinning, traveler reader, potentially ooc characters?, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not fully proofread))

-----♡

》Stelle

Stelle immideatly felt drawn to you, when she heard of your fate and that you were joining the Astral Express too. She took it upon herself to be your guide and take you in the most, even if she was new herself. She was always quite confident in her choices and for some reason, she just felt like you were connected to her in a way.

So, it was no surprise, when she quickly fell in love with you as well. How could she not? She showed it through her determination to help you find your twin. And in turn, you helped her with figuring out who she was. It became a mutual thing, the emotions strong enough to make everyone notice the mutual attraction. It was just a matter of time, until you two confessed to eachother, really.

Stelle is very protective over you and gives it her all on the battlefield every time. Her confidence and strength makes her determined to keep you safe, even if you don't need it. She's even willing to get hurt, if it's for you. You can be absolutely assured, that she'll find your twin for you, even if it's the last thing she does.

-----♡

》Caelus

He emphasises with your situation and makes sure you feel as comfortable as possible on the Astral Express. He comforts you, when you're upset about your twin and reassures you, that he will help you find them again. He doesn't know, what it was, but he immideatly feels connected to you and just accepts it. He hopes, that it will get him closer to understanding who he is as well.

He's a little shy and nervous around you, once he realises that he had feelings for you. He's hesitant on acting on his feelings and only does so, once you show interest as well. He is bad at hiding his feelings however, as he does alot for you in and out of the Express. Whatever you ask of him, he'll obediently do.

He becomes quite aggressive, when it comes to your safety. It doesn't matter, if you can keep yourself safe or not, he'll do that for you too anyways. He's strong and knows it, but he becomes even more determined, when it comes to protecting you. Together, you two will surely find your twin in no time.

-----♡

A/N: Alright, so I hope this was coherent and okay for you! I'm sorry, if I got it wrong too, but I did my best! Thank you again for the idea and your support, Flower Anon! I appreciate you alot!<33

[tonixe]

"𝐀 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞"

n.o.t.e.s - The animate version of Doma got my toes curling.

w.a.r.n - penetration, creampies, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), non-con.

p.a.i.r.i.n.g - Douma x Fem!human reader

w.c. - 1.2k

You remember your childhood like it was yesterday, living in debt by your parents. Sitting down on the grass, with your dirty kimono and hair, was messy as well.

Your parents were in debt, barely able to afford food for you and your siblings, working day and night for you while you helped with your siblings until your parents sold you off to the Ogimoto house. While you sat down at the wooden vanity, you removed white powder off your face.

It wasn't hard for you to climb the ranks of the Ogimoto house; it was preferably easy because of your beauty which tricks many of your clients into spending a lot in the house.

You were now a high-ranked Oiran, earning the Ogimoto house honor for your beauty and body. Rubbing off the red pigment off your lips, staring at yourself in the mirror with your bare face, gently touching your skin.

Here you are, looking at your raw beauty in the mirror, covered by powder and makeup, the top of your yukata slipped down to your shoulders, showing pieces of your skin. Unsurprisingly, your beauty was a weapon against other houses, your price went up, and your demand was higher than other Oirans in the red-light district, making the Ogimoto house busy with business.

Before you got to stand up, you heard the sliding shoji door open. A silvered head man walked into the room, he wore a black-to-red kimono. "Oh, I thought Daki was here" he exclaimed, flicking his golden fans over his face, his multi-colored eyes staring at you menacingly.

Your screams were still in your chest, as your heart was pumping fast, "But you're a too beautiful and for me not for me to enjoy"

"W-who are you" you yelled, crawling back until you hit your head on the surface of the wall, you manage to take one of your sharp hair pins. your eyes still on the silvered-head man. He walked towards your shaking body.

"Does it really matter" he cooed at you, cocking his head to the side, giving you a eerily smile.

Before you can even protect yourself, he was face to face with you holding your throat. You tried to pry his hand from your throat but failed too, struggling to find your breath.

"Be a doll, and don't scream" he whispered into your ear, your eyes staring at him in fear.

"Nod if you understand, darling" he demanded, you reluctantly nodding to his demands, his grip off your throat

"Now, beautiful, you'll do what I say before I consume you. Take your clothes," he said, gently cupping your face, his sharp fingers grazing your cheek, making a little cut on the cheek, soon licking the blood droplet.

You obeyed what the demon said as you trembled to remove your yukata, His multicolored eyes looking at you while you stripped yourself of your clothes, every piece of it.

The last fabric slipped off, showing your bare body to the silvered-head demon.

The rainbow-eyed demon licked his lick, as he saw your bare body in a display of him, your hands fisted in a ball. You were too smart to go against the strong demon, but the aura of the said demon gave you a bad feeling, especially with the kanji that look to be carved into his eye.

The number two.

You never saw a demon before, but from your first encounter, there were fearful beings.

The silver-head demon walked to you and cupped your face, he force you to look into his colored eyes, "You are gorgeous, maybe even tastier than most women, what's your name" the demon exclaimed.

"Y-Y/N" you stumbled out,

"Y/N" He tested it out, "Y/N-chan" he smiled at you, before he placed his hands on your bare shoulder, looking at you up and down, "Daki wasn't lying how beautiful you are, you sure look like a oiran"

"My name is Doma, Y/N-chan" he analyzed you and your name body.

You could barely even respond, how quick his fingers were already side you, before you got pressed on the wall.

You stumbled a moan out, from the quick action.

Your breast up against his chest, his finger plunging further side you, before pulling it out of you, giving a quick lick of his fingers.

"Your even more delicious, Y/N-chan" he looked at you with lust covered eyes.

The beating of your heart seemed to be growing rapidly near him, "Y/N.." Doma said, before he cocked his head to the side.

"...Turn around and bend over" he demanded, giving you a creepy smile.

You obey Doma, bending yourself to the walk, gripping your hands to the wall, exposing more of your parents to the demon.

It felt like the tension in the room could be sliced with a knife, before you felt his hands taking both your hands with one of his own pressing it to your bare back, forcing your body into the wall, your breast squished into the shoji wall.

You watched his movement with the corners it your eyes. The noise of a belt coming off, made your body tremble.

It was normal for you in the district with your clients, but you never did this with a demon nevertheless.

You felt him lining up to your entrance, his member splitting you open, the searing pain in your cunt. The simmering pain, as you tried to just to his size.

Your walls fluttered around his cock.

His hips rolling into yours, jackhammering in your pussy, you felt the pain in your lower region, hitting your lips.

"Fufufu, who knew your this wet for me, y/n-chan~" he whispered into your ear teasing you, he licked the tops of your ears.

Your hand still binds together, his razor-sharp nails scraping your hips. The pain turned into pleasure as he frequently plunged into you, you curved your back more, and your moans ranged out.

You lolled out your tongue, and your breath got heavier, feeling your legs numbed. Your cunt was on fire before you saw white, moaning out loud, turn your head back to get a glance of Doma.

His eyes were still filled with lust and contentment.

Your head was on the wall, his cock getting further into your cunt, your moans ranged out of your lips, eyes watering. Your pussylips dripped off your juices and blood.

He placed his head on your shoulder, muttering sinful things into your ears, making you hotter.

He bit your shoulder before spilling his seed into you; his white essence dripped down your legs, your walls sucking him dry.

Before he withdrew his dick from you, you fell to the floor, mixed liquids dripping onto the floor, before he shoved his dick into your mouth, kicking the oxygen out of you.

"Suck it" he demanded, his cock coming out and in into your mouth. Slick coating your lips, dripping onto your chest.

You looked at him, your e/c making eye contact with his own multi-colored eyes, before he took your head, slamming your head to his pelvis.

His pelvic hair tickled your face, drooling dripping out your mouth.

His length hit the back of your throat, gagging on it, trying to get air into your lungs, before he spilled his seed into your mouth, he grabbed the back of you by the hair off his cock.

A string of spit connected his dick to your mouth, and your tongue lolled out, as you greedily tried to breathe in the air.

Your eyelids felt heavy before you turn around to see Doma already have his pants on, fixing himself together. He bent down to your level, "Y/N-chan, I will spar your life, but.." he put one of his fingers on his cheek.

"You have to serve me and suit my needs" he smiled, as he finished, before gently grabbing your chin, tilting it up.

Your face felt hot, but who knew that you would be here just fucked a demon and got cummed in, but you had to face the fact.

"Yes, Doma"

[charlesslut16]

-Baking cookies-

summary : you and liam spend the time on a snowy day to bake cookies...

PAIRING : liam lawson x fem!reader

WARNINGS : none

note : I hate this imagine but i hope that you will like it!

december masterlist ; masterlist 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a snowy Sunday and you and Liam were standing in your shared kitchen baking cookies. You had his phone in front of you and were looking for ideas for cookies. 

You loved baking cookies, it always reminded you of the times you baked with your grandparents, parents and siblings at Christmastime.  It had been the best years.

However, this event rarely happens because you and your siblings now live lives in other places and with other people. Meeting together as a family without event was something extraordinary.

At times, it made you sad, but now it shows you how important it is to be with your loves and spend time with them. It is something that someone does have gotten to do. That is why we should appreciate it.

But now you could bake with Liam and make new memories. Memories that will be remembered for decades and be told to the next generation, that you will create.

So, once you choose the recipe for the cookies, get the ingredients and place them on the kitchen counter. 

You took a bowl and added two eggs, 4 cups of flour, two teaspoons of vanilla, ¾ teaspoon of baking powder, ¾ teaspoon of salt, 1 cup of butter and finally 1 cup of sugar.

 Liam mixed it in the bowl and when the dough was ready, he rolled it out flatly on the counter. Christmas music played on your Alexa while baking.

In the meantime, you got the cookie cutters out of the basement to cut out the cookie dough. There were snowmen, angels, snowflakes, reindeer and many more. 

You divide the cutters in half so that you can use each cutter. Everyone had the same amount of dough to cut out, sometimes sabotaging the other with throwing flour into each other's faces.

The couple placed the cut-out cookies on two full trays. In the end, there were two very full trays, and you put them in the oven, so they could bake and you could decorate them.

While the cookies were in the oven, you tidied up the kitchen. And ain an unexpected moment, Liam puts his arms around your waist, turns you around and holds you tight to him.

In the next step, he took your hands in his and started dancing to the music that was playing, which was 'All I want for Christmas is you'. You loved every second of it.

Liam twirled you around and danced with you through your entire home. The music tuning through the home, while laughs and giggles that came from you both were heard.

"All I want for Christmas is youuuuuu" Liam sang with all his heart and soul as he looked at you fully admiration and love that one every would be for you, his girlfriend, fiancée and future wife.

"I love you, Mr Lawson"

"I love you, Mrs Lawson"

It was pure bliss.

But it sadly ended sooner than later. Because the bell of the oven rang, meaning that the cookies were finished and ready to be decorated and eaten by the two of you.

Liam let go of you and took the trays of cookies out of the oven and placed them on the kitchen counter. And you remained where you stood to observe him.

He looked at you with a smirk, you walked to him, gave him a kiss and searched for the things you needed to decorate the cookies, like edible sugar colour, edible balls and glitter to put on the cookies.

You laid out the cookies, divided them equally, so the two of you could have the same amount of cookies to decorate. Liam decided that he would do a green glove first, while you decided on a cute penguin.

This goes on for many more rounds with many more motives until every cookie was decorated and looked completely and utterly beautiful and tasty, which was the main reason.

Liam and you took the cookies and laid nice and fine on three plates. One for the kitchen counter, one for the eating room and another one for your living room.

They looked perfect. You went around and looked at them, and Liam was in the kitchen making you both some hot cocoa to enjoy while eating cookies and enjoying a movie.

Your boyfriend, laid on the couch, you were laying on his side with your head on his shoulder. The TV playing in the background. You didn't even watch it, you watched Liam as he looked so concentrated on what was playing.

To get him out of the trance, you traced your hand up and down his cheek, his head turned to you, and he kissed your nose to give you attention. As a reaction, you gave him an Eskimo kiss, which he gladly returned.

"I hope that we will spend more evening like this one. "

"I hope so too, love."