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#so here you go. at least in another universe they had one
creatureesque · 9 months
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LOOK AT MY DURGE SEROH AGAIN LOOK AT HER LOOK AT HER AND LOOK AT HER MAGE WIFE NOWWWWW!!!!! explanations for two of the drawings are in the tags :)
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fixomnia-scribble · 1 year
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Scientists are very serious.
This is a post about science. And soup.
Dr. Elinne Becket, a microbiologist from Cal State University, is in the middle of one of those Fridge Experiments that happens to us all - except in this case, she is uniquely placed to unravel the science down to the microbial level.
While cleaning out her fridge, Dr. Becket found that a tub of family-recipe beef vegetable soup had turned bright blue. “Ok I'm outing myself here,” she tweeted, “but there was forgotten beef soup in our fridge we just cleaned it out and it was BLUE?!?!? Wtf contam would make it blue??? Like BRIGHT blue!!  Even w/ all my years in micro I'm not handling this well.“
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Read on for a breathless and ongoing saga of Soup and Science, and the wonderful international community that is Academic Twitter.
Academic Twitter quickly reminded her of her Responsibilities to Scientific Inquiry. (Cue the chanting from around the world of “CLONE THE SOUP! CLONE THE SOUP!”)
“I can’t believe y’all talked me into going back into the trash.” she tweeted in response, over a photo of a puddle of beautiful Mediterranean-sea blue soup in the trash bin, with bits of veg and noodles arising from the depths.
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Scientists being scientists, Dr. Becket agreed to take a sample and send it to colleagues for cloning and microbial analysis.This involved getting arms-deep into the trash bin of Old Soup. “I’m never forviging @ATinyGreenCell (genomic biologist Sebastian Cocioba) for this.” Dr. Becket tweeted, with a photo of a properly dipped and snipped and VERY blue q-tip in a small clear plastic tub.
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Diving into decomposing soup was not the only hazard. She writes: “My mom (who made the soup for my birthday) came across this thread and now 1) I have to answer for letting her soup spoil and 2) she's worried @ATinyGreenCell will figure out her secret recipe.“
Dr. Becket and Sebastian were able to culture the Blue Goo!
Becket posted a photo of three petri plates of streaked beef bouillon agar at 72 hours incubation, at 37C, room temp and 4C. She writes: “Left the plates where they were for another 2 days, except the 37°C one was brought to RT, which then grew white stuff over the yellow stuff and stinks to high heaven. RT looked the same. 4°C had impressive growth. Restreaked them all onto TECH agar, awaiting results!”
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Sebastian, from his lab, tweeted a photo of three more covered petri dishes, with early results: “Great progress on isolating the glowy microbe from our #BlueSoup! It's so fluorescent the streak is GREEN. Still needs another restreak as it seems there is a straggler but should clear up in the next plate. Exciting!”
Then yesterday, Sebastian tweeted out an updated photo of his plates under daylight and blacklight. “Whatever grew on the #BlueSoup colony plates overnight glows under UV, but only on King's Agar B! That particular media is used to tease out fluorescein expression in pseudomonads. What are the chances that the same cell line expresses fluorescent AND blue pigments?“
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“Looking closer, there definitely is a handful of different microbes showing distinct phenotypes. Could be that the blue producer and the fluorescent microbes are totally different microbes!”
At which point, Professor Cynthia Whitchurch of Norwich, England, responded: “Consistent with P. fluorescens being at least part of the #BlueSoup community. The fluorescence is due to production of the siderophore pyoverdine which is up-regulated when iron availability is limited. P. aeruginosa produced this too but my guess is you have blue Pf.”
And Australian agricultural researcher @WAJWebster helpfully tweeted a petri dish of ALL KINDS of colourful bacterial colonies from white to yellow to orange to stark black, with a cheerful: “You need bact-o--colours? I got you, fam.”
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The best part is that as of today, March 9, 2023, THE BLUE SOUP MYSTERY CONTINUES. WE ARE WATCHING SCIENCE HAPPENING!
A paper is being written. And Dr. Becket’s mum is getting an author credit as the proprietary owner of the #BlueSoup recipe.
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Dr. Becket’s Twitter is here: https://twitter.com/bielleogy
Sebastian Cocioba’s Twitter is here: https://twitter.com/ATinyGreenCell
Fun IFLS story is here: https://www.iflscience.com/microbiologist-investigates-after-her-beef-soup-turned-blue-in-the-freezer-67894?fbclid=IwAR0H27KqVZhzzrosnjzzKkxuKASZ-0L0Lt6hGwCRDJK8xvFbbSlyS4JvwlM
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soaps-mohawk · 5 months
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 3 - Speak Their Language
Summary: You get something to aid you in your attempts to bond with your pack. Unfortunately, your ideas have consequences for everyone.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, some brief violent imagery but nothing worse than what's in the game, lots of military inaccuracies
Author's Note: Did you know there’s Scottish translators online? I do now lmaooo. Those military inaccuracies are really coming through in this one so...if you’re here for accuracy...I am so sorry. This one's a bit shorter, more of a filler for the next one but there's some important stuff that happens that you'll need for the next chapter. Also a lot of good ole easter eggs and references in this one. If you can find them all, I’ll give you a cookie. 
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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You perk up when a knock sounds at your door. You hop off your bed, eagerly swinging the door open. Price is standing there, a package in his hands. The corner of his mouth twitches as you smile, almost bouncing on your toes in excitement. 
“Kate said you’d be expecting this.” He says, amusement shining in his eyes. 
You nod, holding out your hands. “Yes, sir!” 
You take the package, holding it against your chest. You had sworn Kate to secrecy about what was in it, after a long explanation of why you needed it and why you were asking her for it and not Price. She said she threw in a few other things, things you didn’t realize you’d miss once you moved to the UK. You knew she likely did that so she wouldn’t have to lie to Price when he asked.
“Don’t have too much fun.” He says, giving you a smile. 
“I’ll try not to.” You grin. “Thank you, sir!” 
You close the door, not bothering to lock it as you bound back to your bed. You open the package, digging through the snacks to the bottom of the box. You move the box to the floor, holding the book in your lap. You run your hand over the cover, excitement thrumming through you. 
“The Powerful Omega.” 
You’ve spent the last few days running through what you remembered from the book the last time you read it almost four years ago. There wasn’t much, only a few things sticking with you. Things you thought would be helpful. 
You curl up on your bed as the others head out for the afternoon, the familiar sound of boots disappearing down the hallway fading into the background as you dig into the book. You’re determined to find some way to get Ghost to at least be tolerant of your presence. You don’t need him to want you, you don’t even need him to like you. You just know the entire process will be easier if he’s at least accepting of the fact you’re going to be part of the pack, whether either of you like it or not. 
That was long before you knew you’d be placed in a military pack, though. 
He’s a big, tough, military alpha who doesn’t like to show his face. There has to be something in the book that might help you, or at least give you ideas on what to try. You know the best you can do with Ghost is try. He’s an enigma on purpose, and it seems like he’s going to stay that way, regardless of how close you try and get to him. 
You could use Soap to get close to him. Ghost’s protective aura practically envelopes Soap whenever they’re in close proximity, laying a claim without even having to touch one another. You know getting close to Soap could force Ghost to get comfortable with you, or it might make him more territorial.
But that scene at breakfast a few days ago, when he’d gotten defensive over that soldier staring in your direction. 
You let out an exasperated sigh, opening the book. “Alphas are so infuriating for literally no reason.” You murmur to yourself. 
You read until another knock sounds at the door, signaling lunch. You use your note pages as a bookmark, stuffing the book into the back of your underwear drawer before opening the door. 
“Hungry, pup?” Price greets you as he usually does when he’s escorting you to a meal. 
You nod, stepping out and closing the door behind you. “Always, sir.” 
Like most omegas, you have a healthy appetite. It always gets bigger close to your heat, and you never quite feel satisfied and full during that time. You wonder how you’re going to manage on a military base with such a rigid schedule. There’s always snacks in the rec room, but you’re going to need a lot more than chips and protein drinks to keep you happy when the time comes. 
You follow Price to the mess, his arm brushing yours as you walk. You’ve noticed them getting closer to you over the past few days, at least in the literal sense. It started with Soap and Gaz. They walk closer to you, sit closer to you. When you join them in the evenings in the rec room they’ve started putting you between them. Price has now started getting closer, walking closer to you, standing closer to you, often looming behind you like a shadow. 
Ghost is the only one who hasn’t changed much, still regarding you with disinterest and speaking shortly to you when you’re forced to interact. 
“Don’t worry about ‘im lass. He'll warm up tae ye.” Soap had reassured you after a rather cold shoulder from Ghost. 
You’re not entirely sure that’s possible. You’re determined to at least try to get on amicable terms with him, and you’re hopeful the book will help with that. Even if he’s nothing more than just another alpha in your pack, if you can get him to stop being so icy around you, perhaps you’ll be able to settle in better. 
And maybe you’ll be able to fix your lack of instincts. 
Dr. Keller said there was nothing wrong with your lack of instincts at this point in the transition, but everything you had learned at The Institute goes against what she said. You’re an omega. Your job is to be obedient, to serve your pack, and follow your alpha’s commands. Good omegas do what’s asked of them without question, putting their trust in their alpha. No one knows what’s best for you like your alpha. 
Your alpha hasn’t asked much of anything of you. 
You don’t know how to feel about that. 
“I’m startin’ tae think that sandwich insulted ye, lass.” 
Soap’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. You have been sitting and staring at your sandwich for a while, lost in your thoughts. It’s not a terrible sandwich by any means, certainly better than the ones you got at The Institute. 
They’re all staring at you, four pairs of eyes watching you. You’ve barely touched your plate, and you hardly remember going through the line. 
You shake your head, picking up your fork to poke at whatever mushy vegetable Price had added to your tray. “No, it’s fine. I was just lost in thought.” 
“‘Bout what?” Soap asks, taking a bite of his own sandwich. 
You shrug. “Just something Dr. Keller said.” 
“Ah, omega secrets then.” Soap grins. “I’ve heard rumors that omegas know the true meaning of the universe.” 
“Yeah, it’s 42.” You say, earning a chuckle from Price. 
If you hadn’t been looking, you wouldn’t have noticed the shift in Ghost’s shoulders, the slight softening of his gaze for a moment as he stares at his own sandwich. 
He's laughing at you again. 
He’s an enigma, a confusing presence in your life. You have no choice but to have him in your life, just as he has no choice but to have you in his life. 
You finish your food quickly, wanting to get back to the book. You’ve already got some ideas floating around from it, things that might help you ease into their world a bit more. 
Gaz walks you back to the barracks after lunch, the area between the two buildings more crowded than usual. You both slow a bit as a whistle sounds through the air, your head turning as a rather crude comment reaches your ears. 
“Ignore them.” Gaz says, putting a hand on your back. “Bunch of cocksure alphas. They’re always rowdy after the weekend. They go out, surround themselves with omega barrack bunnies, make themselves feel important.” 
“Have you...been with a barrack bunny?” You ask hesitantly, mostly out of curiosity. You know they likely have. They've had their entire lives they've been able to dictate for themselves. 
“Not since joining the team.” He answers honestly. “None of us have. We don’t usually have the time, or the need. We have each other now.”
And now they have you.
“Do they, the other soldiers...do they know why I’m here?” You find yourself asking as you enter the barracks. 
“Not specifically.” Gaz says. “Most of what we do is classified, even to them. I think some of them have begun to put two and two together. And before too long, they’ll be able to figure it out.” He says, giving you a look as you stop in front of your door. 
“Yeah...” You say softly, your stomach churning nervously at the thought of your approaching heat. There’s still quite a bit of time before then, but you don’t feel ready. You don’t feel ready to spend a heat with an alpha, you don’t feel ready to be claimed. 
“Don’t worry too much.” He says, pressing his finger between your brows like he might be able to smooth out the frown that’s formed between them. “Price will take good care of you. Besides, we’ve got plenty of time to work out the kinks.” He chucks you under the chin gently before he leans down, pressing a kiss to your rapidly warming cheek. “I’ll see you later, yeah?” 
You still feel a bit like you’re floating as you close your door behind you. Your face is warm, not just from the forwardness of Gaz’s actions but also his words. You let out a quiet sound as you fan your face, trying desperately not to think about how soft his lips are, how easily he had ignited a fire within you with some words and a simple touch. 
Gaz is trouble, you think as you pull out the book again, settling down at your desk to read. 
You open the book, starting at the next section. 
Bonding With Your Pack. 
This is what you need, ideas on how to do exactly that. Even though you’re already beginning to feel close to Soap and Gaz, you still feel as if there’s a chasm keeping you from Price, and an ocean between you and Ghost. You just need something, anything that will start building that rope bridge and maybe a boat. 
Learn To Speak Their Language. 
You pause at the chapter title, pulling out the notebook you’ve been taking notes in. 
“As much as we want to think it can be, not everything can be about us all the time. Just like in any relationship, we have to put effort into others as well. If you find yourself struggling to connect with your alpha, the first step is to figure out something they’re interested in. Sports? Video Games? Food? Get to know your alpha, and make it a point to learn about something they’re interested in. Learn to speak their language.” 
You read the passage thrice over, the realization dawning on you. You knew from the beginning that getting them to adapt to you was not going to be possible. You were going to have to adapt yourself to fit into their lives. Their lives of fighting and war and violence and guns. 
An idea begins to form in your head as you brainstorm, scribbling page after page of notes. It’s not perfect, but you’re in no rush to perfect it. After all, you’ve got nothing but time.
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You sit next to Soap at breakfast, close enough his arm is brushing yours. You wish you could see Ghost’s face, or, well, his eyes at least. 
“So what do you guys do between breakfast and lunch?” You ask, all four of them pausing as they look at you. You continue to eat, pretending not to notice their looks. You know mornings are for their workouts before breakfast, but what they do between meals is almost entirely unknown to you. You assume it’s some sort of training, maybe meetings and briefings. 
“Training, usually.” Price answers after a moment. “Running simulations, training courses, weapons training, hand-to-hand. Keeps our skills sharp. Today they’re running a routine course to make sure they’re not getting lazy in our time off.” 
“Can I come?” You ask, their gazes snapping to you again. “To watch? I’m getting kind of bored sitting around.” 
Price’s gaze burns into you as you meet it, not looking away despite the tickling at the back of your neck telling you to yield. Tough alphas like a challenge, the book said. Don’t back down, even when you want to. 
“I don’t see why not.” He finally says, picking up his cup of coffee. “Give these muppets another reason to compete with each other.” 
The table erupts in chaos as Gaz and Soap immediately start betting with each other. You can’t help but smile, used to their bickering and competitiveness after spending time with them doing literally anything together. 
This is certainly going to be interesting, if nothing else. 
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“There’s two rules for you being here.” Price says as you walk with him down a line of hangars. “You do everything I say, and stick close to me. They’ll be using live rounds, and the last thing we need is you catching a stray bullet in some freak accident.” 
“Sir, yes, sir!” You say, saluting him. 
He stares down at you for a moment, amusement shining in his eyes. “Cute.” He leads you into the hangar, a sort of building made out of plywood set up inside. “Over here.” He leads you to where a sort of command center is set up. 
There’s screens showing feeds from cameras set up inside the mock building, a timer and an intercom system set up. You look it over in amazement, Price coming to stand next to you. 
“How does it work?” You ask. 
“They enter there.” He points to what you assume represents the front door. “Work their way through both levels to clear the house.There’s targets in some rooms that pop up when certain pressure triggers are hit on the floor. Hit every target, clear the house, exit there,” He points at a spot on the side of the house in front of where you’re standing. “And reach that red line in 60 seconds.” 
You blink in surprise. “How fast can they do it?” 
“Gaz holds the record currently at 19 seconds, Ghost in second at 19.5, and Soap at 20.5.” He says. 
“Wow.” You say under your breath, looking over the cameras again. “I’m not sure I could even think that fast.” 
Price chuckles. “I wouldn’t expect you to be able to, sweetheart. We’ve had years and years of training and experience. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He says, heading back down the steps to where the others have gathered, wearing light gear. 
It’s not the first time you’ve seen them all geared up, but the change is always palpable. Gone are the laid back betas and alpha, and instead they’ve shifted into battle-hardened soldiers. It’s almost mesmerizing how easily they can shift between the two. 
And you can hardly handle your instincts getting a little twitchy. 
Price joins you again, turning on the intercom system. “Alright Gaz, at my go sweep the house and clear the rooms.” You hold your breath as Price pauses, Gaz in place at the front door. “Go, go, go!” Price says, the timer starting as Gaz enters the house. 
You watch on the cameras as he goes through the lower levels, jumping slightly as the first gunshots echo through the hangar. They’re louder than you had expected, even with the hangar doors opened partway. You feel a bit anxious as you watch the time and his progress, almost as if you’re watching an intense movie. 
17...18...19...
Gaz slips through the side door, racing for the red line marking the end. You stare at the timer as Price hits the stop button. Twenty one seconds. You wonder how often they don’t meet their previous records, or if their break really is having that much of an effect on them. You hear Gaz curse quietly as he passes, heading back to stand by Soap as Ghost gets ready at the start. 
The nervous anticipation doesn't lessen any as Ghost makes his way through the house, moving swiftly and silently as he always seemed to do. For such a large being he can move so quietly with an ease unlike you’ve ever seen. 
You watch the timer as he crosses the red line. 21.9. 
You catch a whiff of his scent as he passes, the hint of ozone burning your nose. He’s frustrated. They have to know they’re not performing as well as they know they can. Part of you wonders if it’s your fault they’re not even meeting their best times. 
Soap is up last, moving with an ease and focus that you’re not entirely surprised he’s capable of. Though he tends to be the most lighthearted of the four, and the most unserious, he made it on the team for a reason. 
Again you watch the timer, still held at rapt attention in the intensity of the moment as he crosses the red line. 25. He lets out a loud string of curses, most of which you don’t understand as he moves back to the start. 
“Wait here.” Price says before descending back down the steps. 
You’ve seen the change in him as well, a bit more subtle as he always seemed to be in the Captain mindset to some degree. You wonder if he’s ever not the Captain, if there’s a time where he gets to just be John Price. You wonder what he’s like when he doesn’t have the weight of his responsibility constantly on his shoulders. You wonder when the last time he got to let go like that was. 
“It’s my fault, isn’t it?” You say as he joins you once more. You’re beginning to think maybe you made a mistake in asking to come along. 
“Most likely.” He says, resetting the timer. “But that’s something we need to know. This is the new normal. They need to learn to work through it.” 
Especially if it’s you they’re trying to get to. 
You knew there was a risk. Just being associated with them puts you at risk. They’re hidden, anonymous, deeply classified for a reason. You’d gotten that briefing during your time training with the CIA, after Laswell had told you where you would be going. Just knowing their names, who they are, where their home base is, is enough to put you in danger. You were hidden just as much as they were now, your entire existence now hidden beneath layers of security clearance. 
You could still be a target, if anyone found out. They might think you have information, details about their missions, about the things they do. 
The likelihood of that happening was low, but never zero. There was still risk involved in being around them, a risk you were assigned to take. It was your duty, though, as an omega. Do what you’re told, go where you’re sent, follow your alpha without question. 
Institutes really are like the military, you think. Only you’re fighting a different battle than they are.
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You’re seated on the couch in your usual spot, curled up with a book. Your pack was having some downtime as Price had an emergency meeting he had to attend. Your heart had jumped a bit at the news, at the thought that they might be pulled away early. They weren’t supposed to get called off on a mission until after your next heat to allow for the adjustment and claiming, but if they were needed...they could be called away before then. 
So you’d settled in with a book in the rec room to try and calm your nervous energy. 
“Mind if I join ye?” 
You look up as Soap enters the rec room, a smile on his face. “No, go ahead.” You offer a smile back. 
He joins you on the couch, lifting your legs over his lap. You flush a bit at the bold move, but you were growing used to his boldness. “What are ye readin’?” 
“‘Lord of the Flies.’” You say, holding up the cover. 
“Did ye finish the other one already?” He asks in astonishment. 
“I’ve already read two books since I got here.” You say, laughing a little. 
“Och, yer a bright wee lamb, aren’t ye?” He chuckles. “Ye like tae read?” 
You nod. “Yeah. It’s good for passing the time.” 
He hums, grabbing the remote. “Ghost likes tae read too. Dinnae tell him I told ye that.” He holds up the remote. “Ye mind?” 
You shake your head. “No, go ahead.” 
He turns on the TV, keeping the volume low as he sits with you. His hand is warm where it rests on your calf, his thumb absentmindedly stroking circles over the fabric. You try to focus on the book but you can’t help the fluttering in your stomach at the proximity of the beta. You keep catching whiffs of his scent, and you’re beginning to feel an urge to ask him  about Ghost. If anyone can give you answers, it’ll be Soap. 
“Soap?” You ask, closing your book. 
He hums, turning to look at you. You stare into those bright blue eyes, your heart fluttering a bit. His eyes are so warm and expressive, shining with something you can’t quite put a name to. 
“Does Ghost...hate me?” You ask quietly, knowing with your luck as soon as you start the conversation, the man in question would appear out of nowhere. 
Soap’s lips tug up into a smile, a quiet chuckle rumbling through his chest. “Nae, lass. He doesnae hate ye. Ghost is...” He makes a face, trying to find the right words. “Ghost is very guarded.” 
He slips his arms around you, lifting you into his lap. You let out a quiet sound in surprise, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders out of instinct. His arms wrap around you, his tactical vest digging into your side a bit, but you’re too focused on the sudden proximity to really care. 
“He's no an easy man tae get close tae.” He continues. “I know. Couldnae stand me when we first met. I broke him down, proved myself. We spent enough time together, and that bond just formed naturally.” 
“He sees me as a threat.” You say, voicing the opinion you’ve been coming to over the last few days. 
“I wouldnae say a threat.” Soap grins, his hand squeezing your side. “A wee yin like ye. He just needs time tae adjust. He's gonnae dae it in his own way.” 
“I don’t even need him to really like me.” You say, tracing the Union Jack on the front of Soap’s vest. “I just need him to tolerate me.” 
“This is him tolerating ye.” Soap deadpans. 
You give him a look. “Well he’s got a funny way of showing it then.” 
Soap chuckles, the sound vibrating through your body. “Nah, dinnae worry too much about him, hen.” 
You hum, leaning your head on his shoulder. “You’re right. It’s Captain Price I need to worry about.” 
“I dinnae think ye need tae worry too much there either.” Soap grins. “The Cap’n is head over heels for ye already.” 
You give him a look of disbelief, eyebrows raising. “What?” 
Soap nods. “Oh aye, I havenae seen him smile this much in all the time I’ve known him.” 
You continue to stare in disbelief. You knew Price at least tolerated the idea of you becoming his omega. He’s been nothing but polite, cordial even with you. In the traditional sense he’s already begun courting you, providing and protecting. You still have yet to move beyond the polite tiptoeing, even with how things have been shifting the last few days.
You have the beta’s approval, which you know is an important step in pack formation. 
You bite your lip, your fingers curling around the edge of his vest. “You really think he...” 
“Mhm.” Soap nods. “Cannae blame him, pretty omega like ye strutting around the base.” 
He’s getting closer to you. You can’t do anything but stay still as his face lowers towards yours. Your stomach is fluttering, but you can’t tell if it’s nerves or excitement. His hand slides down your side, following the curve of your hip before it settles on your thigh. He’s so warm, his scent amplified with your close proximity. You feel a bit dizzy, your head spinning a bit. You understand now how betas can still win over both alphas and omegas. 
“We all feel lucky havin’ ye.” He says quietly, his breath fanning your face. His forehead presses against yours, so close to you your noses are brushing.
You wonder what Ghost would do if he walked in and saw you this close to his beta. Would your body fly through a window or a wall? Or would he tackle you, wrap his hands around your throat and squeeze until your head pops or your airway collapses? Or, was Soap right and he would do nothing? 
Or would he like it? 
The thought sends a shiver down your spine. Soap likes you, both of the betas in your new pack like you. It’s good, you know, having the approval of both betas, even though you don’t technically need both. Price could claim you with only his and Gaz’s approval, though it would be easier if all four approved. 
You wonder if Ghosts supposed tolerance of you is because of Soap. The alpha is very protective of his beta, though you don’t doubt Soap would go to bat for you if he needed to. 
He might have already. 
Soap hasn’t moved, both of you frozen where you are. He wants to kiss you, you think, your brain pulling up all the movies you’ve seen in your life. You’re gripping onto him tightly, your stomach fluttering. You’re nervous, unsure of how to move next. Do you let him kiss you? You’ve only been kissed once before, but that was hardly more than a childish peck on the lips. He wants to kiss you like they do in the movies. 
Will Soap be upset if you pull away? Will he force you back and take what he wants? There would be no stopping him. Even if the others were in the building, even if they heard you, would they come to your rescue? Or would they let it happen because it’s your purpose? What would Ghost do if he walked in and saw you? What would Price do? Would Price be upset that he wasn’t the first to kiss you? 
You are his claim after all. 
You slowly draw yourself back, removing your arm from around his shoulders as you turn slightly to face the TV. You hold your breath, not wanting to catch the souring of Soap’s scent, the tell that he was upset at your decision. You wait for his grip to tighten, for his body to force you back onto the couch. His hand moves from your thigh and you tense, waiting for the reprimanding to come, but instead he simply wraps his arms around your upper body again, holding you like he had been before. 
Your heart is still thudding in your chest as you quietly watch the TV, the silence in the room thick but not uncomfortable. You lean your head back on his shoulder, letting yourself relax into him. The almondy scent of beta is thick in the air, likely his doing to diffuse the tension he must be able to feel. 
“British TV is weird.” You say, trying to follow along with what’s going on, on the screen. 
Soap laughs, squeezing his arms around you for a moment. “Aye, it really is.” 
You continue to sit with him, letting his scent relax you. You’ve given up following what’s on the TV, his warmth and presence slowly lulling you until your eyes are drifting closed. 
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The scent permeates the air everywhere he goes. 
Caramel. Vanilla. Strawberries. 
No amount of scent blockers can keep it from seeping under his mask, permeating his senses. He’d spray the scent blocker up his nose if he thought it might work. You’re stinking up the base, his beta, his life. Even now he can smell it, the sweet cloud of your scent wafting through the halls. 
He can pick up the sharp tang of anxiety on the edge of it, a low growl rumbling through his chest in response. It burns his nose and he hates it. His boots are quiet on the tile floor as he makes for the rec room, following the cocktail of scents. Your pungent sweetness layered over Johnny’s warm spice. 
Images flash through his mind of what position he might find you both in. He can smell the musky undertones of Johnny’s desire in the air, a scent he’s very familiar with. He knows how much his beta wants the new omega that’s been forced on them. They don’t need an omega. He knows how much Price fought against it, but even the Captain has begun to fall under your intoxicating spell. 
You don’t even know you’re doing it. 
His hands curl into fists as he steps into the rec room. The TV is playing some daytime rerun, but his eyes are drawn to the couch. Johnny is fast asleep, his head leaning against yours. You’re asleep in his lap, hand under your cheek, resting against his chest. You’ll have imprints on your skin from your hand and his vest. Johnny’s arms are wrapped tight around you, looking more peaceful than he has in a while. 
He’s already comfortable enough to sleep with you. 
“MacTavish!” He snaps, startling both of you. 
The only thing that keeps you from flailing to the floor is Johnny’s quick reflexes, his grip tightening around you to keep you on his lap. Johnny blinks the sleep from his eyes, squinting up at him for a moment. 
“Let’s move.” He growls, turning and leaving the rec room. 
He refuses to look at you in your sleepy haze, not quite as quick to wake as Johnny. He doesn’t want to watch the way Johnny eases you to your feet, how small you look leaning against him as you grumble sleepily. He doesn’t want to watch as Johnny guides you to your door, easing you into the safety of your room while they leave to do their jobs. 
He hates the way he turns back to look as Johnny speaks quietly to you, those big, shiny puppy eyes staring up at him. He hates the churning in his stomach as you soften at Johnny’s kiss to your forehead, the way you watch Johnny walk down the hallway. Ghost opens the door for his beta, letting him out, but he can’t bring himself to move until he hears the click of the lock on your door sliding into place. 
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2K notes · View notes
sims-himbo · 11 months
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THE SIMS 4: BARBIE Legacy Challenge!
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oh hi there! i haven't posted here in a while, but i just watched the barbie movie a few days ago and needless to say, it is now my entire personality. so here's my first ever legacy challenge based on barbie's many, many careers and achievements!
apologies in advance, this challenge uses a lot of packs! i'm sorry! i might try to make a base game version at some point
BASE GAME version
portuguese translation by @demaciana-sims
sims 3 version by @appaloosawhims
challenge rules below the cut
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All heirs must be female and named Barbie. (non-heir children may have any name)
You may use the freerealestate cheat for your first house, but try not to use money cheats after that!
You are allowed and encouraged to use lot traits and rewards to boost skill gain, anything that’s in-game is fair game.
Packs you will need:
EPs: Get To Work, City Living, Cats & Dogs, Get Famous, Island Living, High School Years
GPs: Spa Day*, Parenthood
Optional packs (for the optional generations):
EPs: University, Cottage Living, Horse Ranch
GPs: Strangerville
*You only need Spa Day for the High Maintenance trait in one of the generations and nothing else, so it's fine to skip out on it.
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You've been raised with traditional values: find a good man, start a family, be a homemaker... But you want your children to aim higher, so you'll make sure to set them up for success.
Complete Successful Lineage aspiration
Max Parenting and Cooking skills
Have at least 3 kids and 1 pet, each child must complete at least one child aspiration and they must all max out their grades in school
Must have Family-Oriented trait
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Your mother was happy staying at home, but not you. You're ready to fight your way to the top and make enough money to support your family for generations to come.
Complete Fabulously Wealthy aspiration
Max Charisma and Logic skills
Max Business career (Investor branch)
Must have Ambitious trait
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Your family is pretty wealthy, so you've used your funds to open up your very own vet clinic and follow your dreams of being surrounded by furry little guys all day! But it might be more difficult than you thought...
Complete Friend of the Animals aspiration
Max Veterinarian skill
Run a 5-star vet clinic
Have at least 3 pets and be good friends with all of them
Must have either Cat Lover or Dog Lover trait
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You grew up surrounded by pets, and you now want to explore even more of the animal kingdom... So you're going underwater! What magical secrets will you discover on your journey?
Must live in Sulani
Complete Beach Life aspiration
Max Conservationist career (Marine Biologist branch)
Become a mermaid
Max Logic and Fitness skills
Must have Child of the Ocean trait
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Your mother had an almost supernatural level of fitness at sea, so now you've been inspired to master fitness on land! You're determined to reach your full potential in physical performance and become a world class champion.
Join Cheer or Football team as a teenager and reach highest level
Complete Bodybuilder aspiration
Max Fitness and Charisma skills
Max Athlete career (Athlete branch)
Must have Active trait
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Your family has achieved many, many accolades, and you've set out to capture all of it in an epic Tell-All novel that you spend your entire life writing!
Complete Bestselling Author aspiration
Max Writing skill
Write Book Of Life and bind it to your parent, use it to successfully bring them back from a premature death
Must have Creative trait
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Movie stardom is the next logical step for your lineage, so you set out to conquer the silver screen. Will you catapult the family name into even greater heights, or will it now be associated with infamy?
Complete Master Actress aspiration
Max Acting skill
Must reach at least Proper Celebrity status
Must have a secret affair with a fellow Actor!
Must have High Maintenance trait
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As the child of a successful actress, people may roll their eyes and immediately write you off as yet another nepo-baby trying to start a music career... So you must prove them all wrong by becoming a proper rockstar!
Complete World Famous Celebrity aspiration
Max Singing skill
Max skill in at least 2 instruments
Max Entertainer career (Musician branch)
Must have Music Lover trait
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What's next after conquering so many careers and reaching worldwide fame for the family name? World domination, of course! Become the greatest Leader this nation has ever seen!
Complete Mansion Baron aspiration
Max Politician career (Politician branch)
Max Charisma skill
Must have Self-Assured trait
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Now that you've conquered the world, it's time to venture out into Space! There's so much to explore out there, and Barbie must leave her mark all across the galaxy.
Complete Nerd Brain aspiration
Max Astronaut career (Either branch)
Max Logic and Rocket Science skills
Go to SIXAM at least once and bring a souvenir
Must have Genius trait
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Still want more? Here's some extra Barbies that you can play with!
Secret Agent Barbie
Complete Bodybuilder aspiration
Must have Active and Geek traits
Complete Secret Agent career (Diamond Agent branch)
Max Logic, Fitness and Charisma skills
Become enemies with a Sim in the Villain branch of the Secret Agent career! (You may need to cheat this career level for sims outside your household)
Countryside Barbie
Complete Country Caretaker aspiration
Max Gardening skill
Must make all money from gardening, farming, wine making, etc. No day job!
Must own a horse and have it max every skill
Must have Animal Enthusiast trait
Army General Barbie
Must live in Strangerville
Complete Strangerville Mystery aspiration
Max Logic and Charisma skills
Max Military career (Either branch)
Must have Erratic trait
Scientist Barbie
Complete Nerd Brain aspiration
Max Scientist Career
Be abducted by Aliens at least once
Must have Genius trait
Ultimate Barbie
Set lifespan to long
Complete at least 2 child aspirations
Complete Renaissance Sim AND Academic aspirations
Max 10 skills
Have 12 or more traits
Graduate from college
Reach the top of any career
Have a house worth 1 Million Simoleons
Have at least 5 kids and max your relationship with all of them
that's about it! if you play this, please use #sims barbie legacy
have fun:)
5K notes · View notes
gffa · 3 months
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Jedi culture & community fics, my beloved! They're a bit of a rare breed for what you're specifically looking for, specifically focusing on positive Jedi worldbuilding, so if anyone has genfic recs outside of the ones I know, please feel free to add them! But these should help scratch that itch for you, each of them has at least some focus on Jedi philosophy or how Jedi interact with each other or the lessons they teach! It's been awhile since I've read some of them, so there might be some that aren't quite as in-line with how I see the Jedi these days, but they're all ones I felt portrayed them pretty positively and they're all genfic (except one that I made an exception for) and all really lovely fics I remember enjoying for the Jedi worldbuilding aspects! And there are some that will make you absolutely melt with how much you love these characters and their beautiful culture, because by god if canon's not going to give us as much detail as we want, fandom will step up. And fandom made sure to not just focus on the disaster lineage--we love Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka, we always want more of them, please don't stop writing Jedi worldbuilding with them!--but also Mace and Yoda and Quinlan and Qui-Gon and even some Jedi OCs get some love in these fics, which makes me want to explode with joy to see! So, come cry about how much we love the Jedi with me, I WILL GIVE YOU A CRAPLOAD OF FIC TO READ. STAR WARS & JEDI CULTURE & WORLDBULDING RECS YOU'LL FIND HERE:
NOVEL AND NOVELLA LENGTH
MID-LENGTH
SHORT AND YET SO GOOD-LENGTH
NOVEL AND NOVELLA LENGTH: ✦ Remedial Jedi Theology by MarbleGlove, obi-wan & anakin & jedi & cast, 51.3k     Let us consider the fact that the Jedi Order is a monastic religious organization based out of a temple, with five basic tenets of faith. ✦ Festival of Light by dendral, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 8.7k     During his first year at the Jedi Temple, Anakin learns that even the Jedi celebrate holidays. ✦ Out with Lanterns by SkyeBean, ahsoka & mace & jedi & clones & cast, 312.5k     In another universe, Jedi Masters Plo Koon and Depa Billaba decide a Padawan could do Mace some good. It takes a while, but he eventually agrees. When he takes Ahsoka Tano as his Padawan, Mace knows that he's broken through a Shatterpoint and changed the course of a life. How, he doesn't know. ✦ eat well; be well by gingerbeer, rainsoaked_benevolence (oceans_bluem), obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & yoda & depa & shaak & quinlan & aayla & cast, 18.6k     Or, (almost) all of the Jedi High Councilors (plus Ahsoka) gather to eat dinner together. ✦ Supreme Chancellor Obi-Wan Kenobi by stonefreak, obi-wan & anakin & padme & ahsoka & palpatine & yoda & quinlan & cody & cast, 126.3k wip     By an old Republic law, all members of the Jedi High Council are senators in the Galactic Senate, and can thus be voted in as chancellor. A Senator from a less prominent planet has had enough of Chancellor Palpatine's incompetence and calls for a Vote of No-Confidence and the installation of Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi as Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic. This one action becomes the catalyst that changes the direction of the galaxy. ✦ Pragmatics of the Jedi by aroacejoot, ghostwriterofthemachine, loosingletters, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & jedi, 31.3k     A series of fanfiction exploring the consequences and results of the Jedi having their own language, and speaking it still. ✦ light by loosingletters, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & mace & jedi, 56.1k     Anakin Skywalker is a Jedi and being a part of their Order means that he is protected and accepted. The war is over and the Republic has to recover from the crimes of the Sith Lord, the Jedi have to figure out what it means to be peacekeepers again and the Clones have to learn how to be more than expendable soldiers. ✦ When Darkness Seems to Hide This Place by IllyanaA, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & kanan & ocs & cast, 94.9k wip     After killing three of the Jedi Order's best and brightest, Palpatine's fight with Jedi Master Mace Windu goes shorter than expected. Afraid he's lost his chance at recruiting a new apprentice, Sidious unleashes Order 66 across the galaxy, but, per their programming, the Clone Army is not to harm Anakin Skywalker. After witnessing the most painful loss he's ever experienced and injured at the hands of his captors, Anakin is ready to die like the rest of the Jedi, though not before getting his vengeance.
✦ Knightrise by Deviant_Accumulation, obi-wan & yoda & satine & ahsoka & asajj & cast, 89.4k wip     "Strong enough to fight the Sith Lord, you are not.“ And just like that the fight drained out of Obi-Wan, the barely scraped together agitation running out of him like water from a broken glass. He looked at Yoda, the other Master already hobbling towards one of the back exits, his presence burning with focus, obviously expecting Obi-Wan to follow. ✦ Make a Brand New End by Batsutousai, obi-wan & anakin & feemor & qui-gon & yoda & mace & dooku & jedi, 118.6k     Feemor, Qui-Gon Jinn's first padawan, did not survive Order 66, but the Force granted him a boon: A chance to go back to days before Qui-Gon's death. He doesn't know why the Force picked him to remember that terrible future, but he's going to do what he can to change it. And if he can heal the rift fallen between himself and Qui-Gon, and finally get the chance to know Obi-Wan, well, he's not about to turn that down. ✦ Unexpected Awakening (The Rewrite) by Rhiw, obi-wan & qui-gon & bruck & feemor & cast, time travel, 135.1k wip     The life of General Kenobi is cut short at the hands of his Padawan, but the sight that greets his eyes upon awakening is not that of blinding light of the Force, but the Jedi Temple he knew when he was still a youth. As he struggles to understand the path laid out before him, Obi-Wan unwittingly captures the attention of a singularly unusual Temple Guard, and that of a reluctant Qui-Gon Jinn. ✦ No Rest for the Weary by orphan_account, obi-wan & anakin & jedi, 61k     Needing a break from life at the Jedi Temple, Obi-Wan Kenobi and his apprentice, Anakin Skywalker, visit a Jedi AgriCorps settlement on the Midrim planet of Helia. There they encounter new friends, new enemies and have new adventures, all while attempting to navigate their sometimes turbulent relationship as Master and Padawan. ✦ The Moments That Time Remembered by CallToMuster, obi-wan & mace & vokara & bant & quinlan & garen & depa & jedi, 82.4k     Obi-Wan’s first memory was not his own. Rather, it was a vision steeped in darkness and flashes of red and choking heat and you were my brother and the harsh crash of lightsabers striking one another. He woke up sobbing in the arms of the crèchemaster, Master Kitaddik, who was hushing him and gently stroking the top of his head with her furry hands. Obi-Wan hid his face in the soft folds of her tunic and, still crying, fell back asleep. The first time Obi-Wan collapsed due to a vision was not long after that. [Or: in all the various iterations of Obi-Wan Kenobi’s life, the Force spoke to him. But in this one, it never stopped.] ✦ Starrunner by orpheus_under_starlight, obi-wan & jedi & oc, 80.2k wip     In what would have been the year 17 BBY, Supreme Chancellor Sheev Palpatine is found slumped over his desk, dead to rights and emitting a foul odor. The coroners declare the body victim to a heart attack and the smell a result of a lack of a timely embalming—a bit of bowels humor, the head coroner says with a nervous laugh when interviewed by the Galactic Enquirer.
MID-LENGTH: ✦ 飽了嗎? | Have you eaten your fill? by virdant, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & qui-gon & quinlan & yoda & dooku & mace & bant & jedi, 13k     The Force is the first language that Obi-Wan learned to speak, the brush of one mind against another. But food is the second language that Obi-Wan learned to speak with, and he talks, he talks, he talks. A collection of fics about food and how food is an articulation of love. ✦ We Will Abide by naberiie, plo & shaak, 10.3k     Light. Dark. Balance. Beneath the Jedi Temple, far below the chaos of Coruscant's Galactic City, ancient halls and corridors sleep in silent darkness. Padawans Shaak Ti and Plo Koon are determined to explore them. ✦ What Is My Heritage? by Marnie, qui-gon & yoda, 7.7k     Qui-Gon, age 13, tries to find a place to belong. ✦ Coming Home by Marnie, qui-gon & yoda & dooku, 18.1k     A story telling how Qui-Gon comes to be Dooku's apprentice. ✦ Master by CJinn, obi-wan & anakin, 27.5k     Obi-Wan Kenobi had always wanted to become a Jedi Knight. What he didn't expect was to become a Master merely days after his own Master died. Adapting to his new role as the mentor and Master of the quite unusual Padawan Anakin Skywalker became a bumpy road.
✦ into the statue that breathes by spoonks, obi-wan & feemor & cin & cast, 8.5k     The night watch in the garden was supposed to be the calmest of them all. No mischievous Padawans “sneaking” in or out, or ne’er-do-well civilians conducting “business” around the lower-level entrances that they didn’t know existed. No the gardens was still, and it was like time was frozen in ice that slowly melted away with the rising of the sun. A slow drip, drip— Drip. Immediately Feemor turned towards the central waterfall. Someone was standing there. Whoever they were, they were small and moved through katas with their hands open like a greeting. ✦ The Cave by Ria Talla (ronia), anakin & ahsoka & cast, time travel, 10k     Ahsoka Tano, post-Star Wars Rebels/? And there was something else, more important, though Ahsoka found herself loath to do it. Her lightsabers drawn, deep in the labyrinth formed by the stone warriors and the crumbled temple. Yet the words broke certain into her mind. Your eyes can deceive you. Her heart pounded, as though warning her otherwise. But Ahsoka withdrew her sabers, and closed her eyes. Rather than her weapons, she let the Force be her light. ✦ A Candle in the Night by phoenixyfriend, anakin/luminara & obi-wan, time travel, 12k     In which Luminara finds a heavily injured Jedi, nurses him back to health, and falls in love. Then they get back to the real world, and she just can't figure him out... ✦ Found Clan by silvergryphon, boba & ocs & obi-wan & anakin & cast, 25.3k wip     After the Battle of Geonosis, a Jedi Healer discovers young Boba Fett mourning the loss of his father. Not about to leave a ten-year-old boy on his own, she promptly adopts him with the full collusion of her Padawan. ✦ the heart of kyber by outpastthemoat, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & depa & kanan & jedi, 32.7k     Tales of the Jedi: Stories about lightsabers, masters, and apprentices. ✦ Stars of Tatooine by Be_Right_Back, ahsoka & mace & kanan & obi-wan & rex & cast, 10.5k     After the end of the world, Ahsoka more or less kidnaps a child, has to air some old grievances, and tries to find whatever peace the universe can still offer. All paths in the Force lead home, eventually. ✦ The Uses of a Sandwich by Laura Kaye (laurakaye), obi-wan & qui-gon & yoda & cast, 17.6k     A few months after being taken as a Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi faces a challenge: meeting his Master's first apprentice. ✦ Familes Found by fyrefly, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & padme & mace & plo, 8.2k     In a universe where "The Wrong Jedi" never happened, the war ends under different circumstances and perhaps everyone will get a chance at a happy ending after all.
SHORT AND YET SO GOOD-LENGTH: ✦ The Mathematics of Repair by panharmonium, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 4.6k     For raw teachers and rough-edged students building in the rubble: tiny steps are enough, provided they carry you in the right direction. Immediately post TPM, in short snippets. ✦ The Living Force; Parables for Padawans by glorious_clio, obi-wan & cast, 6.1k     Since infancy, younglings are taught the Jedi Code, “Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force.” Obi-Wan Kenobi learns these tenets backwards and forwards again. But even as a child, he is interested in nuance. And so his teachers tell him parables. ✦ A Jedi's Cloak ImperialKatwala, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & cody & rex, 6.4k Jedi cloaks are made for children. Obi-Wan Kenobi is a year and a half old when he first sees this principle in action. He is fourteen, twenty-five, twenty-nine, and thirty-six when he gets a reminder.     Or: Jedi cloaks are weird. Here's a series of events showing why they're made that way. ✦ the master, the padawan, the Force by skatzaa, kanan & depa. 1.4k     Caleb expects things to be different after Master Depa takes him as her padawan, but really, it feels like nothing really changes. ✦ For the Future of the Order by thetorontokid, obi-wan & qui-gon & cast, 3.9k     There are important lessons to be found in the Jedi Temple creche.
✦ Memories of Peace by Margan, obi-wan & clones, 2k     It's not quite flash training, but the Clones are used to learning fast. It helps that this is something that they actually look forward to learning, to putting into practice. Obi-Wan teaches the Clones how to make dumplings in the middle of war. ✦ Liberosis by Be_Right_Back, anakin & mace & yoda & jedi, 2.2k     The war is over, the Sith are gone, and there is now Anakin Skywalker's secret marriage to deal with. While love is a wonderful thing, some truths are hard to face, and letting go is the destiny of all Jedi. Or: the Council and Anakin clash. It doesn't go as terribly as it could have. ✦ Accepting Emotion by LazarusII, obi-wan & ahsoka, 1.1k     Dealing with the stress and anxiety of being a prospective Padawan, Ahsoka Tano struggles to manage her emotions. Obi-Wan Kenobi finds her practicing in the dojo, confidence in tatters. His words make all the difference. ✦ A Long, Long Time Ago by ruth baulding, dooku & qui-gon + qui-gon & obi-wan + obi-wan & anakin + anakin & ahsoka, 5.8k     A wisdom tale handed passed down through the generations poses troublesome questions for a line of masters and Padawans, from Dooku to Ahsoka Tano.
✦ Duet by Silver Sky 1138, oc & cin, 2.3k     Asha Scarsi, the Jedi Padawan who feels the Force through music, isn't half as good at lightsaber combat as she is at singing and mindtricks. So she's a little nervous when Battlemaster Cin Drallig calls her to the training room after class. ✦ The One Where Anakin Tries to Be Serious by GirlwithCurls98, anakin & ahsoka, 1k     Even though they're fighting a war, Anakin finds the time to lead his apprentice through one of the Jedi's sacred ceremonies. ✦ Obi-Wan and the Force by AwayOHumanChild, obi-wan & cast, ~1k     One of the first things Jedi Initiates learn is that everyone experiences the Force differently.
✦ Night Shift at the Temple by ReneeoftheStars, oc jedi & cast, 1.8k     A Jedi Temple Guard sees all, speaks to few, and has attachments to no one. One must be prepared for any threats that may arise, especially at night, while most of the Temple sleeps. ✦ The Orchards by Raven_Knight, obi-wan & qui-gon & cast, 3.6k     When young Obi-Wan Kenobi is injured on a previous mission, Qui-Gon Jinn refuses to accept further off-planet missions until his Padawan's recovery. Yoda assigns the pair an in-Temple mission of utmost importance while Obi-Wan heals. Master and Padawan welcome the change of pace. ✦ Tipping Point by Ria Talla (ronia), adi gallia & finis valorum & eeth koth, 3.3k     "I believe that if what's happening on Naboo is allowed to continue, the other member systems will wonder what they owe to a Republic that can no longer protect them." ✦ A Personal Touch by DragonHoardsBooks, obi-wan & anakin, 6.2k     New jedi padawan Anakin Skywalker realizes that there is more to being a jedi then he tought. Discovering a completely new culture will take time and effort, but maybe he'll make some friends along the way.
✦ Jedi Parables by Peppermint_Shamrock, jedi, 5.8k     Values are often passed down generation to generation through stories, parables, and fables. What stories might the Jedi teach their children? ✦ Songs for Little Jedi by soft_but_gremlin, mace & jedi, ~1k     The initiates are having nightmares, so Mace sings a lullaby to comfort them. ✦ a thin thread of hope by wrennette, shaak & clones, ~1k     Shaak Ti introduces some cadets to one of her favourite crafts, under the guise of training. ✦ rah kat by js71, obi-wan & anakin & aayla, 1.6k     "Aay’shee," Obi-Wan murmurs into her ear, rocking her gently, like when jaieh was off on a mission she couldn’t go on, so her jaieh-raheniel would take turns having her over at their apartments. ✦ Lessons on Attachment by Siri_Kenobi12, obi-wan & anakin/padme & cast, 2.7k     "Anakin once told me that a Jedi is actually encouraged to love." She said after Obi-Wan had settled. ✦ Straw Dogs by Cymbidia, obi-wan & jedi & cast, 2.9k     An old Jedi Master imparts some wisdom concerning Mercy, Balance, and the Will of the Force to young Padawan Obi-wan Kenobi and a gaggle of other younglings. It is a lesson that haunts Obi-wan for the rest of his life. ✦ Refractions of Light by Independence1776, ezra & kanan, 1.3k     Kanan celebrates a Jedi holiday with Ezra.
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nightingalescall · 4 months
Text
God's Perfect Lamb
Kingdom of Ebreau:
Prologue(you are here)|part 1|part 2
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"OH MY GOD!!!!!"
You screamed as you free fell from the sky. The wind whistled pass you, whipping your hair and slapping your cheeks until they stung. You flailed about, thrashing your arms and legs in the air, desperately hoping to slow your descend into inevitable doom.
This day could not get any weirder. You thought the day when you got transmigrated into this world took first place in that department but fate took that as a challenge and proceeded to completely and utterly prove you wrong. The day you got here, at least you were safely lying in an open field on the outskirts of the city, unlike now where you were falling to your death from the sky.
You had endured a great amount of hardship during your stay in this world. You know all those stories about someone getting transmigrated into a parallel world as a noble or wealthy merchant or maybe even a royal? Well, you didn't get that privilege. You weren't placed into the body of a princess, a duchess, a countess or.....anybody, to be honest. You were just you. Plain old (y/n). So the idea living a life of luxury and comfort was thrown straight out the window at that revelation. You had nothing with you. No money, no property, no status. You had to start from the ground up if you have wanted to survive in this new world.
But that wasn't the biggest problem. By "nothing", that includes having no form of identification. You're not sure if it's just a subject of it never being brought up in those novels or if identification just wasn't a thing in those world, but in this one, it was a serious issue.
Having neither a place to stay nor enough money to buy one, you were forced onto the streets until you had the finances to own one. So it wasn't unexpected when the authorities took notice of you and brought you to their headquarters to give you necessary aid. It was all going well until they found out they had absolutely no record on you in their database. That's when they became hostile and grilled you to no end.
You couldn't just say you were from another universe and you had no information to based any lies on so many of their question were met with a silent stare or a soft "um".
In the end, they decided to label you a person of interest and should be kept under surveillance since they had no dirt on you to convict or pardon any crimes you may have potentially committed (even though you didn't). You were both relieved and surprised at the conclusion they came to since even you, yourself were convinced they were going to throw you in jail.
With no charges pressed on you, you were free to go. But where though? You were still homeless, jobless and penniless. Pitying you, they ended up giving you the help they initially planned on giving. They gave you a job.
And that's how you ended up as their errand girl. Any trivial or simple matters such as relaying messages to guards, sending documents to scribes and then retrieving them, delivering packages to and from the headquarters etc etc. It was an easy job so the low pay wasn't a surprise. It was barely enough for the small house you rented a few blocks away from headquarters. However, you were given food and allowed to eat with the guards at headquarters everyday as long as you remained their errand girl so that saves you the money and worry of getting enough to eat. It was a win-win situation for both parties. You get a job and the guards can always keep on eye on you. Thus, even with little to no money to your name, you settled into your new life in this world.
It's been more than a year since your transmigration and to be honest..... You were sick of this place. Remember the aforementioned win-win situation? Yeah, that was only in the beginning. As time went on and your suspicion has pretty much been cleared up, you were still stuck with doing this minimum wage job (if that was even a concept in this world). Just because you were getting by with this job doesn't mean you were happy with it. You only had enough for daily necessities. It's already been a long time since you've arrived here and you had not once enjoyed any type of indulgence in that time gap. Just work, work, work. Those damned guards keep saying you still need to be under surveillance but you knew well that they were just trying to keep you around to do their bidding. Honestly, what kind of guard lets a potential fugitive into their room to get something for them? You knew they trusted you. That's why they wanted you to stay as their little helper.
So here you are now. In the middle of the night, on your way back to headquarters after helping deliver a package to the biggest temple in the country, the Temple of Sonnet. This world, or at least Ebreau in particular, was a country of strong faith. They are a religious country where every citizen worshiped Calerus. Though his title may vary from person to person, it’s always some form of wealth and gold so most people call him the God of Prosperity.
With religion being such as important part of the kingdom, it wasn't surprising when you found out the temple worked in close relation with the imperial palace. The Royal family of Ebreau collaborated with the Temple of Sonnet in both political and cultural aspect. Organising nationwide celebrations, meeting with diplomats from afar, anything that are related to the affairs of the country, chances are both parties are involved. Basically, you mess with the temple, you mess with the Royal family. So definitely not someplace you like hanging about at, lest you want to accidentally offend someone and get a ticket straight to getting-your-head-chopped-off town.
The cold breeze of the night sent shivers down your spine as it blew into your thin clothing. You rubbed your hands together, desperately trying to warm them up but to no avail. You scurried through the courtyard quickly, making your way back to the entrance of the temple. It was relatively silent, saved for your footsteps and the distant sound of flowing water from a fountain somewhere.
Thankfully, the walk was a short one. Reaching the opened gate of the entrance, you walked past the two statues of Calerus at each side of the gate and out back onto the familiar cobble walkway. You snuck a few glances at the white statues of the god of this kingdom as you passed by.
Even in the dim moonlight, you could see the white marble eyes of the statue staring down at you, its mouth curved downward as both hands were outstretched to the side with white round discs made to look like gold coins pouring out of its hands and onto the base of the statue.
This was how the people of Ebreau depicted their God. Sharp eyes casted downwards, overseeing and observing their every move, his hands overflowing with gold, symbolising his absolute authority over the wealth in the land.
You stood, staring at the statue as you were reminded of the saying of the people.
Calerus, the prosperous.
Calerus, the strategist.
Calerus, the omnipresent.
Calerus, the all knowing.
Calerus, the god of Ebreau.
"All is within his hand. Follow his plan and golden rain shall pour at your journey's end."
...
"Tch."
You clicked your tongue as you turned away abruptly from the statue and continued on your way back. A look of disdain plastered on your face as you marched off from the temple.
The more you thought about how worshiped Calerus was and how many praises the people sang for him, the more angry you got. You weren't jealous. No, you weren't some narcissist with a god complex who wanted this sort of treatment. Of course not. What you were pissed about was how Ebreauans talk about how everything in life was Calerus' work. His plan, so to speak that allowed you to prosper and succeed. They claim that all challenges are obstacles on a path towards prosperity that Calerus has specifically chosen for someone.
"Everything has a purpose and meaning."
Well, personally, you though it was pretty nonsense.
If this god of theirs was so smart and crafty, if everything truly happened according to his plan then why the heck were you here? Why were you here in this fantasty world? What purpose did He bring you here for? And why has that "purpose" not shown itself even after you've been thrown here for almost 2 years?!?!
In your mind, Calerus is nothing but a liar and a fraud. Where's the prosperity He promised? What did He have planned? Did He even have anything planned??
You were angry and with good reasons. The people you've met here have been telling you that Calerus has something planned for you even if you're not from Ebreau since day one. They assured you that He will look over you, even if you're not a follower. Yet, you've been met with nothing but problems and hardships during your stay here. And worse, you don't see it ever becoming better.
"What a scam."
You mumbled under your breath and scoffed.
"Ugh..Huh?"
You groaned softly as you suddenly felt lightheaded. You legs got weak and you began to wobble, stumbling forward a few steps. You pressed your hand to you head, applying pressure to both of your temples. Nausea seizes your body as you gagged.
"Huhg..!"
The world spun around you and the ground below your feet felt like it disappeared as you lost your footing. You fell forward and braced for impact.
But it never came.
...?
You slowly regain control as the short-lived dizziness subsides. The disorientation passes and you now realised the odd position you're in. You're...Floating? Your face was hovering several inches away from the ground despite your hands not supporting your upper body. And when did the streets of Ebreau get so....White and fluffy? In fact, they looked like cloud-
"Heretic."
A deep voice suddenly rumbled in your ears and your head shot up. A man with shoulder length grey hair stood before you, his golden eyes piercing into your soul as he spoke with authority. He donned black robes that exposed only his left arm and part of his chest. Golden streaks also lined themselves along the right sleeves and tails of the robe. He seemed.... Ethereal. Godly even.
Wait....Godly?
"C-calerus?”
You stuttered in fear and disbelief.
“One did not expect to be recognised by thou so quickly. Peculiar for a non believer."
Calerus suddenly lifted his right hand and flicked two of his fingers upwards. That's when you felt a force tugged you up from behind and you hung in midair in front of the god.
"Uwah!" You yelped at the sudden yank. Before you could even recompose yourself, Calerus continued speaking again.
"And to not posses any ounce of humility. Calling one by mine name. Who does thou think thou art?"
You felt a force wrap itself around your neck before squeezing. You gasped and grasped at the invisible force, desperate for it to let go or at least loosen. You choked.
"cough! Stop! P-cough!"
You pleaded as you gasped for air.
"Why would one do that?"
You continued to cough as the force squeezed tighter. You were gonna die. Oh god, you were gonna die. In panic, you blurted out whatever came to mind.
"Because, cough, you still, gasp, owe me!!"
The grip around your neck disappeared and you fell onto the soft ground (if it even was ground). You gasped and coughed. Your lungs greedily sucking in air now that your airways were opened again. That relief was short-lived however as the next moment, you felt a hand grabbed onto your jaw and forced your gaze up.
Calerus stared coldly into your eyes as he spoke.
"Elaborate."
You panicked. You just said that on a whim. Surely, you weren't actually going to ask for compensation from a god....right? There was no way you were going to pull though with what you just said.
The fire inside Calerus' golden eyes told you to do so otherwise, though. You swallowed before slowly speaking.
"You....You brought me here. Why? Why separate me from my family? Why separate me from my friends?"
Calerus raised an eyebrow.
"Bring thou here? To punish thee, of course. Thou spoke ill of mine name."
You shook your head.
"No. I meant, bring me to this world. To Ebreau. What reason do you have?"
Calerus fell silent. He seemed to be lost in thought. You waited agonisingly long before he spoke.
"So it is thou. Thou art the otherworldly traveler, yes?"
Otherworldly? Yes. Traveler? No. Kidnapping victim would be more accurate. Though, you simply nod at his question. It was close enough, you suppose.
He released you jaw and backed away. His gaze blank and devoid of emotion as he raised his hand again. You felt a soft tug this time and you were gently helped up onto your feet.
?
It..Worked?
Calerus sighed before saying,"It would indeed seem one has forgotten about thy needs after thou came to mine kingdom."
Your eyes widen in surprise at his confession
"One will give thee the compensation thou deserves."
"Wait, really?" You couldn't hold back your astonishment.
Calerus stayed quiet as you asked and you felt cold sweat rolled down your face, thinking your question may have angered him.
His gaze went down onto the ground for a brief moment before flicking back up to you.
"Yes. However, know that one was not the being that brought thee to this land."
You tilted your head. "You're not?"
"No. One merely accepted thy visit to mine kingdom."
"Then...Who did?" You asked, the words rolling off your tongue slowly
"Mine....Equal. A ruler of another land far from mine."
Your head was spinning from this revelation. Some other god brought you here? Why? And why let you stay under another god's rule? Before you could ask, Calerus had began to speak again.
"One is not enlightened with the reason why thou has been brought here but one admits fault for neglecting thee after accepting thee as one's own. As such..."
Calerus stepped forward, his steps firm and steady. He raised his right hand to his mouth before biting his index finger. A small wound appeared on his skin and you saw golden blood begin to seep out from the opening. He stretched out his right arm as he made his way towards you.
"W-what are you doing?" You fumbled over your words as you backed away in horror, clutching your hands over your chest.
But Calerus was faster.
In the blink of an eye, he was already in front of you, finger pressing on your forehead. You felt the warm liquid dripping down your forehead as your eyes opened wide in fear, terrified at what he was going to do to you.
He began to chant.
"Might of the northern spirit, wisdom of the southern dragon, divinity of the elements of the east and west, hear one."
You wanted to pull away from his hand but be it fear or some other unknown force, you couldn't as you stayed rooted in place, breathing heavily from anxiety. If the god before you noticed your petrified state, he surely paid it no mind as he continued.
"Let the earth know that the power of gold shall have a vessel to call its own. Let the people rejoice for a vassal of Calerus, the Prosperous Lord shall walk among them. May the world celebrate the birth of mine lamb."
His finger left your forehead for a split second before it came back, colliding with your forehead as he flicked his finger against it. A surge of power shot into your head from his fingertip and spread throughout your body. The sheer magnitude of the force made you almost black out as your vision clouded with dark spots. As if you also suddenly got punched, you were propelled backwards, stumbling and struggling to catch yourself.
You felt yourself stepping on air and lost your balance, falling backwards. The ground(clouds?) had disappeared behind you, opening a small hole that let you fall through. You reached out your hand in a desperate attempt to hold onto something but to no avail.
You fell. Down and down until you could see that the "ground" you were standing on was indeed clouds in the sky. The sky. Calerus peeked his head over the edge, observing you as you fell with the same stoic look on his face. Just before he went out of hearing range, you heard him speak.
"One will be in touch."
He disappeared from view.
Now, back to the present, you were falling to your death, screaming and crying as you begged Calerus for mercy. Where's the compensation?! Was everything just now a trick?! Did you get scammed again?!
Tears rolled out of your eyes and flew into the air as you cried in fear, leaving behind trails of water droplets following your descend.
You sobbed as realisation kicked in that nobody was going to save you, as hopelessness consumed you to the point of not being able to think anymore.
The ground got closer and closer as the seconds ticked by. You closed your eyes which were still overflowing with tears, submitting to your faith and praying the impact will immediately kill you so you won't have to suffer in pain.
Goodbye.
"Ugh!"
You groaned as the impact came. Your back collided with the ground and you were....OK? You were in some pain but nothing too bad. In fact, the pain was already passing now.
Slowly, you opened your eyes and blinked away the tears still trapped inside. It was daytime already. How much time has passed? You looked around and saw petals of different hues falling down before landing on the dirt beside you. Above you, a tree with yellow leaves swayed gently, its branches lightly bouncing up and down while its yellow leaves, detached from their place on the branch, fell softly down and landed on your face. It seemed you fell through the tree just now. That would explain the tears on the hem of your sleeves.
Aurum trees?
Propping yourself up into a sitting position, you stared up as you wondered. While not rare or particularly hard to care for, aurum trees are only planted within temples of Ebreau due its yellow leaves. They are the only type of trees in Ebreau that grew leaves of that shade of yellow. A yellow similar to gold while not being being fully golden coloured. The colour yellow symbolises wealth in Ebreau and thus, indirectly their god, Calerus. They are a symbol of the divine hence why aurum trees are only grown in temples.
Then, that raises the question. Why were you at a temple?
You lowered your gaze from the tree and you nearly gasped from the scene in front of you. You were sitting in the middle of a flowerbed that consisted of various types of flowers with different hues for each one. Not far from you, rows of nuns and monks knelt in an orderly matter, faces all shocked and astonished. Some had their hands clasped together while some were covering their, what you assume to be, gaping mouths. Hushed whispers erupted as they stared and observed you. You even made eye contact with some of the nuns and monks in which all turned away immediately with flushed cheeks.
What's going on? Did you intrude on something? Oh no....
Before your thoughts could spiral any further, a tall shadow suddenly loomed over you. Your head snapped upwards as you met eyes with the figure, a man dressed in white robes with golden embellishments around the collar and hem of the sleeves. His eyes were purple, like amethysts. Under the sunlight, his long blonde hair seemed glossy, shiny even as it draped over his shoulders while he towered over you. Despite his intimidating stance, a soft smile was present on his face as the tails of his eyes curved upwards slightly, giving the impression of a kind and good hearted soul.
The man knelt down, his sleeves fluttering gently due to the breeze. That's when you got a better look at his face. He looked familiar...
It wasn't until that soft and silky voice of his poured out of his mouth when you realised who he was.
"Hello, Messiah. We've been expecting your arrival." He placed his hand on his chest and bowed his head at you. "I am Saint Zephyr Venrose. Representing the temple of Sonnet, the esteemed imperial family and the whole of Ebreau, I humbly welcome you." He lifted his head and smiled. Your breath got caught in your throat as he confirmed your suspicions.
Zephyr Venrose. One of the few saints in all of Ebreau and head of the temple of Sonnet. Closely associated with the royals of the kingdom and is a man of power within the boarders of Ebreau. He often gives speeches given his position as head of the biggest temple in the country during festive events. That's where you've heard his voice the couple of times you were passing by or, if you were in a good mood, listening to him talk. You've never been able to get a good look at his face since you were always pushed back by the crowd so you didn't recognise him at first glance. However, now with his face inches away from yours, you could see every last detail of his features and you must admit, you understood why the folks liked him so much.
Zephyr must surely be blessed in his appearance.
You froze in place as you stared in surprise at him, wondering why he was talking to you and processing his words.
Did he just call you Messiah?
Zephyr noticed your silence and your staring. He adverted his eyes as his gaze dropped down towards the ground while he smiled to himself.
?
You tilted your head to the side in confusion at the sight.
Zephyr coughed lightly before his arms reached towards you. You gasped as he suddenly picked you up bridal style from the flowerbed. Not used to being held like this, you gripped onto his robe for support. Your face contorted in worry and anxiety as you looked at the ground, afraid of being dropped.
Zephyr, of course, took notice of your panic and in response, tightened his grip on you, pulling you closer to him. As you felt his fingers pressing into your skin more tightly, you looked up at him, surprised he realised your concerns so quickly.
He smiled warmly at you as he leaned down, closing the gap between your faces even more. His blonde hair brushing and tickling your face as he whispered into your ear. "Don't be afraid, Miss Messiah. I will never let you fall." His hot breath hit your earlobe and you felt your heart skipped a beat. He pulled away before walking with you in his arms towards the rows of nuns and monks.
"Rejoice, my brothers and sisters for our Savior has come. Our God has delivered us our salvation. May glory be with his name for all eternity."
Zephyr announced loudly and his words were met with echoes of response from the other devotees.
"May he reign supreme!"
Your head felt like it was going to explode with all this information. Was this....Was this the compensation Calerus meant? To be his hands and eyes as you walk along the common folks? To be loved and praised like how he is? To be worshiped? You felt dizzy from being bombarded by this revelation.
You looked back up at Zephyr, hoping he could shed some more light on this predicament you found yourself in. However, you swallowed your words the moment you looked into his purple irises.
Zephyr was known for his gentle and endearing nature. Some say he's the embodiment of kindness. He's the type of person people can't help but be drawn towards due to the sense of security he gives and the tranquil aura he possesses. That was your initial impression of him too.
But looking at him now, you wondered if you were wrong.
With the closeness between you two, you could see the the subtle shade of pink on his cheeks and the flushing redness at the tip of his ears. His breathing fanned your face and you noticed how quick and shallow his breaths were. His fingers went from pressing firmly into your skin to digging themselves into your thighs and waist. Then, if you looked hard enough, you could see him swallowing occasionally.
And last but not least, you couldn't help but notice his eyes that had always been filled with warmth and tenderness seemed....
Crazed.
~✟~
A prologue/world building chapter for my future yandere stories taking place in this universe. If you spot any mistakes, please do point them out so I can correct them and give everyone the best reading experience! Especially with Calerus' old English(?) part, I'm still not sure when to use thee and when to use thou. I only did some basic research on Google.(T_T)
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Danny couldn't really explain why he always answered this specific summoning ritual. It was like a feeling. One of warmth. Of a mug of hot cocoa in your hands and a nice weighted blanket dropped around your shoulders as a fire blazed in the hearth in front of you, keeping the chill in the rest of the room at bay.
Danny always lost himself in the sensation and found himself back in that stupid circle of protection with that same wierd guy demanding answers. But Danny didn't know anything about a "Lazarus Pit" or a "Pit Madness" let alone a cure for it. Even if he did he wasn't going to tell Red Robin anything after all the times he'd used the marriage summoning spell to get him here.
Earlier on Red had explained it was the only spell known to thier universe that could summon an entity from "The Lazarus Dimension" Which he guessed was another name for the ghost zone and Phantom was the only one to ever be summoned.
Danny couldn't help but wonder why...
After escaping Bird boy and his supernatural pop quiz (oh look, another test for him to flunk) he returns home only to discover his parents had seen him get summoned and accused him of being a ghost that replaced thier baby boy.
Naturalally the next time Red Robin had summoned Phantom he was angry. He was tired and dirty from being on the run from his parents, his worlds US government, and Vlad. Not to mention his own rogues gallery didn't exactly cut him any slack.
So Danny decided that if Red Robin wanted to abuse the power of a marriage ritual than the very least he can do is put his money where his mouth is.
Danny grinned and exited the magic circle, taking delight in Reds widening eyes before he lunged. A kiss sealed the deal, making sure Danny had a safeish place to stay.
After all, married couples in the infinite realms were obligated and even compelled to protect and care for eachother.
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strvngeweather · 5 months
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How to Get Rid of Your Virginity; a one shot.
💘PAIRING: badboy!jungkook x theaternerd!reader 💘GENERE: College AU, smut, a little fluff 💘WORD COUNT: 4.6K 💘WARNINGS: Smut, smut, and more smut. 💘SUMMARY: You've always been the good girl who followed the rules but you're ready to shed that image and lose your virginity to the college's resident bad boy: Jungkook. 💘AUTHOR'S NOTE: Apparently, I really got into my feelings with this fic. A bit of sweetness at the end but mostly smut. I hope you enjoy!
Opposites attract – at least, that’s what your best friend, Elena, had told you. She had provided you with solid proof too.
“Just take a look around,” she had said, a cup full of vodka and cherry-flavored juice in her hand, motioning toward the various partygoers. She pointed out an art student cuddled up with a girl who looked like she belonged on the arm of a footballer. “That’s Taehyung. His girlfriend is the ‘All-American Girl’ type and he’s a huge nerd. But they’re in love.”
You nodded. “Okay, they’re the exception.”
She shook her head, taking a long sip, wincing at the burn of the alcohol. “Okay, what about them?” She pointed at Jimin. Jimin was your textbook Type-A worker bee. He was known to avoid large social gatherings like this but here he was, leaning against a wall, his girlfriend in his arms. He kissed her lightly on the neck before grabbing a hearty handful of her ass. “That is our resident party girl cuddled up with our best scholar.”
“He’s a fine scholar,” You admitted, and Elena agreed. “Okay, so what’s your point?”
“My point,” Elena began, taking another long sip. “Are that people from different sides of the track get together all the time. Cheerleader and nerd, party girl, and punctual pupil. Nerdy theater geek and super delicious bad boy.”
You were the nerdy theater geek she had been referencing and the delicious bad boy? That title belonged to Jungkook.
You glanced over at him. He was standing between Taehyung and Jimin, effortlessly chatting the night away. Jungkook had been on your radar ever since you started attending this university two years ago. He was an upperclassman, so you didn’t run into him often but when you did, you savored every second you got to gaze upon him. The man was beautiful. But make no mistake, this was not a crush. You thought he was sexy as hell, but you weren’t into him. You were a future Broadway star and Jungkook? Well, you don’t know what his future entailed but it was starkly different from yours. You were sure of it. There was no way you two would work out romantically.
You wanted him for different reasons. More carnal reasons. You wanted him to take your virginity.
But, while you wanted him, you weren’t sure if he wanted you. You didn’t look like his type – you assumed. But Elena was attempting to convince you otherwise.
“I just don’t think he’d be down for it,” you said with a shrug. “I mean, he’s not into girls like me.”
“He’s a man!” Elena said, her voice raised. You knew that was a sign that the liquor was kicking in for her. “He’s into any girl who wants to bone him! Go over there!”
Elena pushed you toward him, but you stopped, glaring at her. “What would I even say? ‘Hey, Jungkook, wanna fuck?’”
Elena nodded and gave you a blank stare. “That sounded perfect. What’s stopping you?”
You groaned. Of course, Elena would think that’s an acceptable way to approach a man but before you could protest, she was signaling Jungkook to come over. Your eyes widened, a mortifying feeling washing over you.
I could kill her, you thought, I could kill her and bury the body beneath the school’s theater.
Jungkook looked at Elena, a confused look etched across his handsome features. Then, he did the unthinkable. He began to walk over.
He stopped just short of the both of you, the wallflowers for the night, and smiled. “Good evening, ladies, how can I help you?”
Elena nudged you and you opened your mouth to speak but found only your pride, self-respect, and the last shred of confidence falling out of your mouth and onto the floor to be stomped on by a slew of drunken college students. Elena, noticing your mouth open and a dazed look on your face, rolled her eyes and blurted out, “She wants to fuck you.”
This is it, you thought, this is how I die.
But it wasn’t.
Because Jungkook’s eyes raked over you, a hint of lust clouding behind them, and smiled. “Oh, really?”
You nodded, fear and excitement striking into your heart.
Elena continued, “She’s been waiting to make a move all night, but she’s been too afraid to.”
Jungkook looked at you. “Consent is sexy, so I have to hear it from your mouth.”
You swallowed thickly, slowly nodding. “She’s not, I mean, I’m not –” You stopped, taking a deep breath. “Yes. Coitus is something I’d like to experience with you – I mean, if you’re up for it.”
He held out his hand. “Well, let’s go experience it.”
“Right now?”
“Why not?”
You looked between him and Elena searching for a reason as to why now wasn’t a good time to get your back blown out, but you couldn’t find one. Not a good one, anyway. So, you put on a brave face, took his hand, and let him lead you upstairs and into the nearest empty bedroom.
You didn't know who this bedroom belonged to as it had no signs of life. A basic dark wood dresser hugged the right wall, a few sports posters lined the walls and a simple full-sized bed with white and blue bedding sat in the middle of the floor. Jungkook took a seat on the bed, and you sat next to him, unable to meet his eye.
“Come here,” he said, cupping your face and drawing you forward.
He wanted a kiss, so you followed his lead, but your nose bumped into his. “I’m so sorry!” You said in a panicked voice. “I – I didn’t mean for –”
“It’s okay,” he said through a small laugh. Another attempt at a kiss was made but instead of bumping noses, you bumped foreheads. He rubbed his forehead, scrunching up his face. “Maybe we skip kissing,” he said, standing up. “How about this instead?” He began to climb on top of you. You readjusted yourself, hoping to make things flow more smoothly but you ended up kneeing him in the stomach.
“Fuck, I am so sorry!” You said as you watched him grit his teeth.
“It’s okay,” he said once again and rounded the other side of the bed. He took a seat and laid back. “Why don’t you come lay beside me?”
You nodded. You got up and laid down next to him.
“Why don’t you lead?” Jungkook suggested and you silently agreed that that might be for the best.
You began to get up but found your elbow stabbing him in the chest.
This was going horribly.
“Are you sure you want to have sex?” Jungkook asked.
“I do,” you said quietly, biting your lip. “I’m just really nervous.”
Jungkook narrowed his eyes at you. “Why are you nervous?”
You chewed on your bottom lip, avoiding his gaze. How do you tell one of the hottest guys on campus that you’re a virgin? A lonely loser virgin?
“If it’s me, then there’s nothing to be nervous about,” Jungkook said. “I’m not as experienced as everyone says I am. I mean, I have had sex with quite a few people – all safe and consensual of course – but I’m nothing like the lothario people say I am. I mean, I’m just –”
You cut him off. “I’m nervous because I’m a virgin.”
The room went quiet. Too quiet. Embarrassingly quiet. If there was a God, he would have taken mercy on you and allowed the world to swallow you at this exact moment. But no, mercy did not shine a light on you this day.
“And you wanted me to take your virginity?”
He seemed more surprised that you had chosen him as your virginity taker than the fact that you were still a virgin. Regardless, you nodded. “Yeah, I figured if I was going to lose it, I might as well lose it to someone hot.”
His cheeks flashed a crimson color. “Don’t you want your first time to be special?”
You scoffed. “First off, virginity is just a construct and secondly, it would have been special no matter what because it’s my first time and I was in control. Besides, I’ve got a bucket list to finish this year.”
Jungkook looked at you. “Oh yeah? What else is on your list?”
“Smoking weed. I’ve never been high before.”
And just like that, Jungkook produced a blunt out of his back pocket. “You’re in luck. Listen, I don’t think the sex thing is going to happen tonight, but I can smoke you out.”
You felt relief wash over you. There was still hope. He said it wouldn’t happen tonight not that it wouldn’t happen ever – hey, it may have been delulu but you were going to take it and ride off with it into the sun. You watched closely as Jungkook lit the blunt, taking a few deep inhales, holding it in, and then exhaling, coughing along the way. Your first few attempts at smoking the joint were failures but after the third try, you got the hang of it. You also coughed a lung out but the serene feeling that flowed through you a few moments later was worth it.
The blunt had been reduced to a roach and you and Jungkook were lying on the bed, laughing and talking about everything under the sun. You learned he was a film major and planned on moving to Los Angeles after graduation to pursue a career out there. When you told him you wanted to be the next Audra McDonald, he didn’t laugh or tease you like so many others had before. He thought your love of theater was cool and asked you a million questions about it. He found it impressive that you could hold such high notes while doing intricate choreography. Finally, a silence settled over the two of you as the green forced you both into an extreme high.
“Can I ask you something?” Jungkook’s voice was like molasses, thick and slow. Or maybe you were just so damn high that’s how you heard it.
“Mhm,” you hummed.
“What’s the farthest you’ve gone?”
“Like traveling?”
He shook his head. “No, I mean … with sex.”
“Oh,” you replied. “Um, I’ve jerked a guy off before.”
“Have you …” he began but trailed off. He turned his head to look at you, attempting to gauge your reaction. “Ever received oral?”
You shook your head. “Nah.”
“You want to?”
You froze, and a sobering feeling hit you like a pillow full of soap. The idea of getting your coochie licked sounded damn good right now, especially with the weed in your system. “Yeah, I mean, I guess I’d like to try it one day.”
“How about today?”
You could still feel Jungkook’s eyes on you. Well, shit. You had already crossed one item off your bucket list. Might as well cross another. So, you said, “Yeah, let’s do it.”
Within seconds, Jungkook was between your legs, lifting your pleated skirt to your hips and sliding your baby pink panties down. Your body froze as you felt a finger slide in between your slits. “A virgin who shaves,” you heard him muse, mostly to himself. A thumb began rubbing your clit and a gasp escaped your throat. Before you could say something else, his tongue was on your lips. Your … other lips. It darted out, parting your lips and flicking against your clit in a feverish way.
Your back arched in response and you felt as if all the air in your lungs had left your body. You found your hands gripping the white sheets as he buried his face deeper between your legs, his tongue sliding in and out of your hole before traveling up and down your slit and finally focusing back on your clit. The sensation became a little too much and you squirmed away, hoping to ease some of the intensity but that only made things worse. Jungkook wrapped his hands around your thick thighs, pulling you closer, spread your legs apart further, and kept his hands gripped on your thighs, ensuring you wouldn’t be going too far. “Don’t run from it,” you heard him whisper.
You’re not sure how long he was at it but by the time your world turned white, you were making noises only a dog could hear.
. . . . .
It wasn’t in your nature to willingly be a third wheel, but the town’s annual spring fair was here and there was no way you were going to miss it. Even if Elena insisted on bringing her boyfriend, Felix. The night wasn’t all bad though. You had spotted Jungkook hanging with a few of his friends and the two of you waved at each other. It had been three weeks since the party and the two of you had kept in contact, texting each other funny memes here and there, sometimes talking on the phone late into the night but nothing more, nothing less.
As the three of you waited in line for the Ferris wheel, you noticed that the ride only allowed pairs. That took care of Elena and Felix but what about you?
“Can you believe that? Since when has the Ferris wheel been limited to two people at a time?” You turned around to face your best friend, but she wasn’t listening. She was too busy using her tongue to excavate Felix’s mouth. You groaned. “Of course, you two would choose now to suck face.”
The line moved forward, and it was your turn to get on. The ride operator gave you a pitiful look. “You got a partner?” He asked but he knew the answer to that. Just as you were about to step out of line to die of embarrassment in a dark and quiet place, your knight in shining armor appeared.
“I’m her partner.”
Jungkook. Sweet, sweet, Jungkook. Sweet, delicious, Jungkook who smelled like heaven and was wearing a red button-up shirt that showed off all his muscles. What? Sue you for noticing!
Jungkook held out his hand and you took it, the two of you loading on the ride and strapping in. Elena smirked at you as the ride began. The ride slowly lifted you and Jungkook up a few feet and then paused, allowing Elena and Felix to board.
“Thanks for saving the day,” you said with a smile. “The Ferris wheel is my favorite ride.”
“No shit, mine too,” Jungkook replied.
Your eyes brightened. “Really? You don’t seem like the type.”
“What type do I seem like?”
“A coaster man.”
“I like coasters too,” he admitted. “But something about the Ferris wheel just calms me, you know?”
“Yeah,” you said. “I get that.”
“So, how’s your bucket list going? Cross off anything else?” Jungkook asked as the Ferris wheel began moving again and then paused, allowing another couple on.
“I have,” you told him excitedly. “Elena and I went skinny dipping two days ago.”
“Damn, I’m sad I missed that one,” Jungkook said with a cheeky smile. “Still a virgin?”
“Still a virgin.”
Jungkook looked at you, his eyes falling to your exposed legs. You were wearing a plaid overall dress and a long-sleeved white shirt underneath. You wondered for a moment if he was judging your fashion choices until he licked his lips and you saw the lust clouding his eyes. “Ever been fingered?”
You shrugged; a sheepish smile found its way to your face. “Only when you ate me out that one time.”
“But never in public?”
“Of course not.”
He looked at you, his eyes begging for permission and as the Ferris wheel began moving again, forcing you and Jungkook to the top, his hands found their way between your thighs. He rubbed your core through your panties. You felt him lean over, his lips brushing against your neck before peppering kisses across your chin. You couldn’t help but giggle as he pushed your panties to the side, and you felt two fingers slide up and down your already-wet slit.
You felt your heart beating faster in his chest when he slid a finger inside and used his thumb to rub circles on your clit. The sensation was quickly becoming too much for you. Especially in public of all places. But as the Ferris wheel worked its way down, you were as well. Your orgasm slowly washed away as the ride finally came to a stop, allowing you and Jungkook to get off.
“Thanks for the ride,” you told him and in response, he kissed your cheek and made his way back to his friends.
It was official: You and Jungkook were friends. Like actual friends. You talked to him just as much as you talked to Elena, if not more. You had met his friends and his friend’s girlfriends. You spent time at his apartment. He smoked you out at least once a week and the last time the two of you decided to go on an impromptu diner trip, the waitress mistook you for a couple.
That’s why it wasn’t a surprise when he accompanied you to the library today. You both had papers due and decided to study together. However, you found that the two of you didn’t get much studying done and instead spent most of your time together making jokes and trying to steer clear of the librarian’s wrath.
In an attempt to get some serious studying done, Jungkook suggested getting a table at the back of the library. As you followed him to the back of the library, you noticed a couple, deep within the library aisles, where students rarely went, getting it on. You stopped Jungkook, tugging on his sleeve. “Look!” You whispered. “Oh my god, isn’t that Jimin?”
An approving smile pulled at the corner of Jungkook’s lips. “Yeah. Ever since he met his girlfriend, he’s become such a horn dog.”
You couldn’t take your eyes off the couple. Jimin had his girlfriend leaning on a bookshelf for support, her pants pulled down to her knees and his face buried between her ass cheeks. You hated to say it but it kind of turned you on. Jungkook took your hand and pulled you along.  
“He’s not afraid of getting caught?” You asked.
Jungkook shrugged. “I don’t think so. They fuck in the library all the time. That’s actually how they became a couple. He was her tutor.”
You felt a pool of heat settling in your core, forcing a weather change down under. “God, that’s hot.”
Jungkook stopped walking and looked at you. “You want to try?”
“You mean, fucking in the library?” The idea excited you, but you weren’t exactly sure you wanted to get fully plowed in public yet. “I don’t know about penetration but … maybe some head would be cool.”
Jungkook licked his lips. “I can’t lie, I’ve been wanting to taste you again.”
You shook your head as he led you further into the book aisles. “No, I mean I want to give you head.”
He stopped. “You sure?”
“Yeah, teach me how to suck dick,” you said and then cringed once you heard the words. “That didn’t sound as sexy as I hoped it would have.
He smiled, licking his lips. “Say less,” he pulled you into a corner and unzipped his pants. He pulled his jeans and boxers down but only slightly and produced his semi-hard dick.
“You’re already excited?” You asked and then realized this was your first time seeing his dick. No wonder he was known as the lover, you thought, grabbing it and feeling the weight of it in your hand. “Well, shit.”
“You ready?” He asked and you nodded, slowly dropping to your knees.  He guided you lovingly on how to properly give head but also explained that everyone was different so the way he liked it wouldn’t necessarily be the way another guy liked it. But the way he liked it was known as the ‘vacuum suck.’ He wasn’t into the bells and whistles of sloppy head but preferred something nice and clean and something that felt like his soul was being sucked out of him.
And that, you did. Or at least you gave it the old college try.
You stroked his large dick, your hand running up and down his thick shaft as your tongue flicked over his head. Precum painted your lips as you attempted to slide his entire member into your mouth. It wouldn't fit and Jungkook didn't force it. Above you, he squirmed in delight, his hands threading through your dark locks, gripping ever so slightly.
“Touch my balls, baby girl,” Jungkook said through a low grunt. Your pussy does backflips at the sound of being called ‘baby girl’ but you can’t linger on that too long. Jungkook has your head in his hands and he’s slowly but surely fucking your face. “Agh … I’m going to cum …” He began to pull his dick out, but you didn't let him, instead you did something that you’ve seen countless times on Twitter memes. You suck harder and you kept sucking well after he came. You’d never heard a man squeal before but you’re sure that’s what Jungkook did before you finally popped his dick out of your mouth.
Summer was steadily approaching, the weather going from tolerable to the heat of the devil’s ass crack. It’s why Jungkook had suggested that the two of you head to the coast for the weekend. “It would be way cooler out there,” he had said, and you couldn’t argue. So, on a Friday evening, you climbed on the back of his motorcycle and the two of you headed off to the beach for the weekend.
As two broke college students, you didn’t have enough money to afford a fancy hotel, so you settled for a run-down motel room, but it was clean, and the bed was comfortable enough. Jungkook had purchased every snack in the vending machine that night and the two of you shared stories over eight-dollar bottles of wine, BBQ chips, and sour gummies. After finishing off your second bottle of wine, Jungkook lit up a blunt and the two of you shared it, laying back on the motel room bed with the shabby television playing a novella in the background.
“Y/N, I think you may be my best friend.”
“I think you may be right,” you agreed, laughing.
“I can’t believe school will be ending soon,” Jungkook said.
“I know. What am I going to do without you?” you said, a genuine sadness reaching your voice.
“We’re going to stay friends. You’ll come visit me in Los Angeles and I’ll come visit you in New York. You’ll be there when I receive my first Oscar and I’ll be there when you get your first Tony,” Jungkook said with a smile. And you could hear the sincerity in his voice. Even if none of that happened, in this moment right here and right now, Jungkook believed it did and that’s what you loved most about him.
You always thought love was like an arrow. Shooting you in the heart, causing you to instantaneously know that you had fallen but looking at Jungkook in the darkness of this shabby motel room, you realized love wasn’t like that at all. Love was slow and easy. It was sweet. It was kind. It was a soft spring day. It was impromptu trips to your favorite diners. It was sharing secrets in your most special places. It was laughing to your belly ached in the back of a car. It was trips to eat your weight in sushi and then getting ice cream even though you swore you couldn’t eat another bite. It was wiping your tears away at four in the morning because you didn’t get the role in the school play. It was sitting up all night with each other watching the sun rise because he was too anxious to sleep. It was the perfect and it was the imperfect. It was nothing and it was everything. It was you and it was Jungkook.
And right here, right now, you realized that you were in love with Jungkook.
“Jungkook,” you said, looking at him and he turned his head, smiling that beautiful smile. “I love you.”
He stared at you for a moment, studying your features. A hand reached out and cupped your cheek. “I love you too, Y/N.”
You scooted closer to Jungkook and kissed him. It was a soft and sound kiss. Slow and sensual. And he kissed you back with just as much patience. Your arms and legs tangled together, and soon you found your clothes melting away. You felt his lips wrapped around your nipples, his tongue going across your stomach. His hands stroking your pussy with an excruciating softness. You felt his muscles flexing beneath your fingertips, the weight of his manhood in your hands and then in your mouth.
His body reacted with such pleasure as you gave him head. You sucked slowly, making sure every inch of his manhood was wet with your spit. Jungkook stopped you early, citing how much he still wanted to taste you so you laid you on your back and spread your legs, exposing your most sensitive parts but Jungkook shook his head. He guided you on top of him, and you lowered your precious gem to his face. He licked hungrily. Savoring every drop of you. His hands found their way to your round ass and groped the fleshy curves as his tongue dug deeper into you. An electric wave of pleasure washed over you, your body writhing in sweet agony.
As you lay down beside him, he got on top of you. “Are you sure?” He asked. “If you don’t want to go this far, we can stop right now.”
But you didn’t want to stop. You wanted this. You wanted him. You silently nodded for him to continue and Jungkook rolled a condom onto his hardened dick. He positioned himself at your entrance and quietly said, “Here we go.”
He started slowly. You felt an indescribable pressure in your lower abdomen as he continued to slide in but it wasn’t bad. It was just different. He used his right hand to play with your breasts.
His pace quickened. You closed your eyes, biting your lip as the pressure waned, and in came pleasure. He lifted your legs and placed them on his shoulders. This new angle forced a new sensation to bubble within you. It felt amazing but there was a heaviness to it that you couldn’t quite describe. His hand found your clit, rubbing circles on it as he began to fuck you faster. You didn’t think you could cum twice in one night, but Jungkook proved you wrong. A few short moments later, Jungkook’s face tightened, and he let out a deep grunt before falling on top of you. After a moment, he rolled off.
“So how was it experiencing coitus with me?” Jungkook asked, breathing heavily.
You couldn’t help but laugh. “It was amazing.”
“I’m just glad you didn’t beat my ass this time.”
You cringed, thinking of the night the two of you met. You rolled to your side, putting your arm around him and your head on his chest. In response, he put his arms around you as well, pulling you close.
“What does this mean for us?” you asked.
“It means that I hope you accept when I ask you out on a date,” he said, kissing the top of your head.
“I’ll have to think about it,” you said. “I’ve got one more thing to cross off my bucket list.”
“What’s that?”
You motioned toward the window in the room, outside of it, the beach. “Sex on the beach times two. I want to drink the drink while doing the act.”
With a smile, Jungkook got up and put on his pants. He looked at you, “Well don’t just sit there, let’s go have sex on the beach while we drink sex on the beach.”
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azullumi · 1 month
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TO HOLD, TO FEEL, TO LOVE !!
premise — the intimate act of handholding, wishing to feel one another at the tip of the fingers; what are hands made for if not to hold one another? content tags — various characters with gender-neutral reader, established relationship, fluff, hands are mentioned multiple times, my small headcanons of their hands, not proofread, 0.7k words ; headcanons
note from me — something small and simple for me because i have 3 lengthy fic series (or events) in my drafts for all of you <33 also i dont have wifi here and just relying on data so im barely surviving
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SUNDAY, he held the sun once; he held your hand. His hands are slender and bony, delicate and gentle yet his hold on yours is firm and tight—as if he doesn’t want you to let go nor does he want to let go of you. For him, it’s a way of protection, a grounding reassurance that you’re there with him, not an illusion, not a dream. He’ll always take his glove off when holding your hand, insisting that it’s much better to feel the warmth of your palms and the way your fingers fit in his.
AVENTURINE, has hands that are soft, slim, and slender with clean, trimmed nails. He uses his fingers to draw the stars and the universe on your skin, tracing the lines of your palm, kissing your knuckles so sweetly, so gently. Whenever he holds your hand, he often finds himself fidgeting and playing with your fingers—it’s a small habit that he does, one that eases and soothes the tremble of his own. The simple act of holding your hand grounds him and stables himself at times when everything feels so messy and suffocating.
VERITAS RATIO, is not one to ask for such things, at least verbally. He’ll show himself more through his acts, fragments and pieces of himself found in the subtle gestures that he does—such as the pinky of his hand finding its way on to yours, hooking itself, and letting it linger until you let him hold the entirety of your palm in his. It’s subtle, simple, delicate yet rough and sharp on the edges just like his hands. One thing is that when you squeeze his hand, accidentally or intentionally, he’ll squeeze yours back.
LUOCHA, how could his hands be more feminine and delicate than a woman’s while also looking like a man’s? His hands are pretty, fingers delicately thin and long with intricate lines on his palms that looked like it was carefully drawn by an artist. The way it looks when he’s holding yours is just mesmerizing, it’s like two missing puzzle pieces that finally found and fit into each other—he is never complete without you. Perhaps he has told you or perhaps he hasn't yet but the reason why he gets quiet when you hold his hand is because he’s relishing in this moment and burning its print into his memory so he’ll never forget how soft your hands feel.
GALLAGHER, touchy, needy hands that seek for the warmth and smoothness of your skin underneath his touch—he’s simply an affectionate man who adores seeing your hand in his. He’ll always find ways to lace his fingers in yours, always wanting to hold your hand; on the note of his hands, it’s rough and bigger than yours will ever be—years of his life honing and carving the shapes of his fingers into ones that you’ve known and always held in your sleep.
ARGENTI, an epitome of beauty and so are his hands, are the definition of it too. It’s slender, long, and pretty, a perfect pale shade that seems to glow underneath the sun, and his fingers have this naturally pink shine on them. He’ll sing praises of how beautiful your hands look, especially when he’s holding it in his—would adore it more under the light, as the shadows cast itself on your skin and everything around him feels so surreal. It's mesmerizing, wonderful, breathtaking, to think that you could be more beautiful in his eyes, even if it’s just something small and simple.
JING YUAN, has rough, big, calloused hands that never want to let go of you. To think that he had gone through a life where he never felt your skin, where he never got to hold your hand. He’s a clingy man, affectionate with adventurous hands that is always on you—whenever you’re near him, his hands are either holding yours or just on you, resting on your waist, wrapped around your figure, or just anywhere as long as he gets to feel you under his hands. It’s like your skin and his palms are magnets of opposite poles.
GEPARD, a little shy and hesitant in the aspects of affection, even if it’s just the small act of holding your hand. His face is flustered, cheeks covered with a shade of pink that is easily discernible underneath the light, and his lips are curled into a smile that beams only affection the same way he looks at you and your hands intertwined with his. His grasp on you is firm and strong but would easily loosen when you ask him to; he does get anxious though, thinking if his grip was too tight or too much.
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special mentions to the wonderful and beautiful @toorurs !! i know i have already said this before but you’re a pleasant surprise in my life, and you have become someone special and dear to me. you’re an amazing friend, kind and sweet, as well as, talented <33 i aspire to have your strength and courage in situations that would have me just running away and just completely avoiding it, you’re a strong person and you’re doing amazing, and you’ll keep on doing amazing things. i’ll always be here for you no matter what happens, hoping and wishing that you’ll get everything you have ever wanted and wished for, and anyone who is a hindrance to your happiness will get a watermelon or anything thrown at their face (just point me to them)
© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
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hollyskywalker · 6 months
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Worst nightmare
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She had him wrapped around her little finger.  
Coriolanus knew she did. He's no longer the same teenage boy trying to wrap his head around what this achy feeling in his chest is. He no longer convinces himself it's hunger, or that he's just confused. He knows the feeling is longing, desire, lust, or maybe even love.  
After everything that happened in District 12 with Sejanus, with Lucy and the people he left behind he had hoped he'd never have to go through this again. A foolish hope, he realizes now. He's a human being and it's almost unavoidable there are people out there who would know just the right thing to say or just the right thing to do for him to lose his ambition focused mind in the fog that is love, or obsession in his case. He's not sure there's really a difference between the two.  
But he thought he knew better than to let someone in again. He hadn't liked how Lucy made him feel vulnerable, and how it had hurt when he realized she'd left him in the woods.  
Yet here he was, pressing this infuriating woman against the wall with her legs wrapped around his hips, their lips barely parting to breathe before pulling the other back in. 
She was perfect.  
Absolutely perfect.  
She was also his close friend's wife. 
He always thought of himself as a gentleman. Sure, he did questionable things and studied under the most questionable woman of Panem during his time at university, but at least he was polite about it. Or at least, he acted in the way one would expect a gentleman to act. 
Kissing your old classmate and close friend's wife is not very gentleman-like. He knows this but when she tangles her hand in his hair the way she does, he can't find it in himself to care.  
“Festus will come find me” she murmured into the kiss. He ignored her and started to kiss his way down her neck. He's not going to acknowledge another man's name coming from her mouth when his mouth is the one making her keen so sweetly. 
She repeated her words and when ignored her once again she gently nudged him back a bit so she could look into his eyes “Coriolanus, you know he can’t catch us. Everything will be ruined” 
He thought he might start laughing. He honestly pities the tree somewhere out there whose single purpose is to replace the oxygen her husband wastes. “Festus Creed does not have the capability of ruining anything for me” 
She hummed and brushed his hair off his face. “Your mood before we came here seemed pretty ruined to me” 
His grip on her waist tightened at the memory of Festus drunkenly clinging to her, embarrassing her, during the entirety of the evening before Coriolanus had cleverly thought of an excuse to whisk her away. 
“Very daring, to take me away from my husband in front of all those people” she whispers, her hands coming up to rest gently on his shoulders.  “Not at all like you to take that kind of risks” 
He didn't bother responding to that and simply rested his head in the crook of her neck, pulling her body as close as possible to his. She rolled her head to the side, giving him better access as her eyelids fell shut. His nose grazes up and down the length of her neck, breathing her in. 
It had been a long day. His path to becoming Panem's president was set and he was prepared to wait for the perfect moment now that he has the right people on his side. He was not an impatient man, but so close to his goal it was hard not to long for time to speed up just a little bit. 
That's why he'd already been annoyed when he arrived at this fundraiser which must be the 10th this month, and then he had to watch Festus wrap his arms around her. It was just too much.  
When they are together, it's like all the noise is cancelled out and he can finally feel at peace. His mind finally rests and he enjoys when they focus solely on each other and nothing else.  
“Marry me” she murmurs in a voice like honey.  
He's taken aback, pulling away from her to look at her wide-eyed. He hardly noticed anything around him; he felt disorientated, dizzy. His mind worked feverishly. Did she really just ask that? Did he imagine things?  
It takes a moment for him to gather himself enough to answer her. “What?” 
She tilts her head to the side with a grin, linking their hands. “Marry me. You want to become president and you have all it takes to become one except for a wife. People will expect you to have one by the time the campaigning truly starts, and you know no one works a crowd better than me. I have them hanging onto my every word within seconds,” she pulled him down slightly so she could comfortably wrap her arms around his neck “With my family name, and influence, and your talent as a natural leader, combine the two of us and Panem would be yours by the end of the year” 
He stared at the wall on the other side of the room.  
Laying her fingers on his left cheek, she turned his face to look at her. “Just imagine how powerful we could be together as a couple” 
He was imagining it. But... 
“They'd never allow you to divorce Festus” he said with certainty. This he knew for sure. The family name and influence she spoke of would not be as impactful if everyone knew she divorced someone from the Creed family. They'd call her crazy, and steer clear of her.  
“We could not marry unless Festus were dead” 
Her eyes darted between his, her hand cupping his face. She truly was ethereal.  
“I know”  
Her response is entirely too calm and he frowned at her.  
During events he would often watch her socialize and play the crowd just like she said, until they were hanging onto every word that fell past her pretty lips. She always seemed so genuine when she talked to people, but he had caught the glint of ambition in her eyes, just like him.  
She was an impeccable liar without a tell. She could lie to whoever she wanted to. Despite that she tended to be a very honest woman. He knew he would be able to count on her if she was on his side. Her, with her always impeccable appearance and her fashionably styled hair wearing nothing but lavish clothing standing out blindingly, concealing her still very much venomous nature.  Perfect. Absolutely perfect she was.  
Festus was undeserving of a woman like her. He'd always thought it but now he was sure of it. 
He could already picture it. Him, waving down at the crowd with her by his side, the envy of Panem. There would always be people against him and his tendency of making unethical choices. But how could they doubt his leadership if a woman as good as her was married to him? They'd believe she'd keep him on the right path. 
She was working her way to the top, and she was succeeding. So it would only make sense for her to ask him. Festus had his sights set on presidency too, but if she believed Coriolanus had a better chance... Coriolanus tried not to let it get to his head.
Was she insinuating he kill Festus for her? So they could marry and she could become Panem's First Lady? Did she know he'd killed before? If she did, she obviously wasn't bothered by it or scared of him because of it.  
But then there was Festus. Coriolanus didn't particularly like the guy, in fact, seeing Festus trip was the highlight of his day not even a week ago, but could he kill the Creed heir? He had killed before but in this situation it's less trivial. It's not about survival, nor about making it to the top. He was sure he could make it without her...but still... did he want to, without her? Is she not worth it? Is having her by his side worth killing Festus Creed for? 
She's not worth it, he thought and tasted the lie as soon as it crossed his mind. 
He met her eyes and thought of her smile – the smile he can't ever seem to get out of his head – and- 
He was going to kill Festus Creed.  
Memories of Sejanus flashed across his mind. Sejanus had been in the way of him ever returning to the Capitol. So he took choices that haunted him, but he didn't regret. Just like he wouldn't regretting ridding her of her infuriatingly incapable husband.  
Truthfully, Coriolanus was surprised Festus was able to stand with a spine that weak. Always following what others told him to do, never thinking for himself, so easy to manipulate. Yet he saw himself suitable for presidency?
His hands have settled on her waist seemingly out of pure instinct. His throat felt dry, and he swallowed several times before he tried to speak. 
“Yes” he nodded, decision made “Alright” 
Something bright flared in her eyes as she looked at him. After a pause, she practically launched herself at him, knocking into him so hard that he had to take a step back. He laughed quickly. One of his hands is still on her waist, but the other cups the back of her neck as his thumb strokes over her throat.   
She tilted her head up and pecked his lips. Something horrible tugged at his chest, and he knew. There's no one more dangerous in the world than her. Because he's obsessed and in love as she gazed up at him through her lashes. 
The blood was thundering through his brain. Happiness filled his chest; a dizzying sensation and his head swam with emotion. His arm slid around her waist, his hand coming to rest on her hip. 
“Mrs Snow” he whispered like a promise, smoothing his thumb over her cheek.  
"What is it?" she chuckled "Why are you looking at me like that?"  
He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, roughly but passionately. 
"You are my worst nightmare and the woman of my dreams all at once" 
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bomberqueen17 · 1 year
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tone indicators
I reblogged this post without adding any commentary bc queue and not a lot of computer time lately but like okay here's the thing about tone indicators:
they're yet another in-group set of coded speech. like an inside joke, or a meme, or a conlang. if you are in a group that uses them, they're great and perfectly comprehensible.
but if you don't happen to have come from inside a group that uses them, they are exactly as exclusionary as any other heavy jargon or inside joke or acronym. I mean have you ever listened to soldiers talk? The US Army communicates in heavily jargon-ified speech, liberally laden with acronyms, so much so that it's a self-referential joke to make up obscene or deliberately-obfuscated ones to slip into official reports since the sorts of people who'd kick up a fuss about obscene language won't understand them.
It is exactly the same thing. Except that's exclusionary on purpose, and tone indicators are exclusionary in effect but tout themselves as inclusionary.
So if I, an outsider to this, am reading along, and after a sentence, there's a / and then between one and three letters, that is not enough information for me to use to look it up.
This is absolutely inaccessible if you are not alreadhy in the group that uses it.
I wouldn't mind if the people who used them were just like 'oh ha sorry jargon, i'll try to explain if it's not clear, sorry i forget you guys don't know them' just like any other inside joke or meme or whatever.
But I was in a discussion with someone on a Discord and when I was puzzled about them including these weird slash-acronyms after their statements they were like oh how nice for you that you're not neurodivergent and don't need to use these.
Uh no. The opposite actually. I'm the kind of neurodivergent that needs context. I handle being excluded from conversations very poorly. And that's where I get pissed off, that people seem to be holding these up as the new be-all end-all of Finally Solving The Problem Of Ambiguous Tones In Social Interaction. The hell you are, kids. They're just another layer, and I'd say the worst one yet, out of many many many attempts to solve this exact problem. They are fundamentally inaccessible. Don't mistake the fact that you learned them (somewhere, in some context inaccessible to me) for them actually being universal.
Considered against the many different solutions that have been offered since text-only speech was invented, tone indicators stack up as among the very least-accessible of the lot, since they contain so little context in and of themselves-- if a key is not provided then they're totally inaccessible, and are exceptionally difficult for non-native English speakers, and in general require so much memorization or cross-referencing as to be prohibitively hostile to outsiders.
And that's fine, if what your'e doing is just meant for talking to your friends. But don't come into my conversations and berate me for not having memorized whatever incomprehensible set of acronyms you've newly-decided are the new universal truth. And what drives me the most insane is how many of these acronyms someone has now decided to assign a whole new meaning to are acronyms that are well-known and already existed and are in heavy use. So if you try to look them up guess what you get! is it gonna be the newly-created version or the one that's been in use for fifty to seventy-five years??
For one, P.O.S. has had a specific meaning in written and spoken English for a really damn long time and if you call me a piece of shit in the actual language I speak I am absolutely not going to interpret your conlang as having intended something nice. (YES REALLY THEY'RE USING THAT ONE TRY TO GUESS WHAT IT MEANS. NO. NO! I know. Fuck! That's wild. Absolutely the fuck not.)
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praeluxius · 1 month
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Rendezvous
part 5 of folie à deux. masterlist
male reader x rei and liz of IVE (ft. sakura, wonyoung, yujin, etc.)
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7
words: 12.2k
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rendezvous - a meeting at an agreed time and place
-
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Gaeul pulls up her underwear then turns to the other two girls and asks, "is Rei running late?"
"She's probably humping another stranger." Wonyoung retorts, laughing a little under her breath, hiding her smile from Gaeul by turning toward the mirror. She picks up the red lipstick laid out on the vanity table and brushes it across her plump lips.
"She's not coming here," Yujin explains. "She's going to the party with Liz."
"And we're okay with that?" Wonyoung raises an eyebrow and looks at Yujin through the mirror.
"Don't worry, I already added Liz to the list to make up for it."
"Really? Just like that?" Gaeul is quick to speak with a little worry in her voice.
"Really," Yujin smirks. "Also, I think Rei is giving up on the whole fucking strangers thing. She had another disappointment today."
"Oh right. That explains it." Wonyoung places the lipstick down and picks up the earrings laid out in front of her. "She did ask me if she could borrow our friend for a night and get some good dick."
"She did?" Yujin's interest seems peaked by the comment, as she casts her gaze out and off into the distance.
"Yes," Wonyoung punctuates her statement with a firm nod. "Wouldn't surprise me if she already hopped on that this afternoon."
"I was with him this afternoon, Wony, so..." Yujin trails off.
"Did he rush off?" Gaeul asks and Yujin frowns slightly at the thought of you dumping her to go fuck her friend. "At least he's in safer hands with Rei instead of that slut from the bar," Gaeul utters her words through an aggravated grumble as she sits in her chair, leaning in toward her mirror to finish the final touches to her makeup.
"Slut?" Yujin asks, picking up a bra from her dresser. She pulls the straps over her bare shoulders, slips her arms through, and clasps it behind her back.
"Minju."
"Minju Minju? Kim Minju?" The half-naked Yujin looks at Wonyoung for confirmation.
"Yes," Wonyoung says as elegantly as ever, standing tall and turning away from the mirror. "Now, will one of you help me into this dress?"
"Wait." Yujin raises a hand. "He was at a bar with Minju? Drinking? When?"
"Yesterday," Gaeul says as she stands up and collects Wonyoung's dress and carries it over to the naked and waiting woman.
Wonyoung is waiting with her hands on her bare hips. Her slender body is smooth and exposed. She is a thing of perfect symmetry with her flat stomach and small but perky breasts. "Yeah, and they were doing a lot more than drinking."
"Wonyoung," Yujin steps toward her, one hand on her elbow and the other softly clenched by her chest. "What are you saying?"
"Let's just say..." Gaeul pauses to let Wonyoung step into her dress and then she drags it up and lets her slide her arms into it. "A lot of bars smell. But most of them aren't locked when they should be open and don't smell of sex when they finally let you in."
Wonyoung settles into her dress, and Gaeul fits it tightly to her frame. Wonyoung lifts her hair up and lets it fall over her shoulders. "You should hurry up if you want to make the most of him, Yujin, before everyone you know has used him, and you'll be the last." Wonyoung looks at Gaeul who's still touching the dress up behind her. "Well, almost the last."
"Who says I want to..."
"Please Yujin." Wonyoung interrupts. "I'm sure the teasing is fun and all, but trust me, nothing compares to a good, proper fucking." Wonyoung stretches her arm to the dresser to pick up her necklace which's expensive enough to put a pair of twins through university three times over. Wonyoung places it against her neck, holding the ends out for Gaeul. She bunches her hair up again for Gaeul to clasp it. "Am I right, Gaeul?"
Gaeul keeps silent while she works. Fastening the hook and letting it drop along the nape of Wonyoung's pale white neck and hang just over her collarbones.
"I have plenty of time," Yujin says. "We're keeping him around, aren't we?" She flips her head as she runs her hand through her hair. She slips a finger beneath one of the bra's straps and adjusts its position on her shoulder. 
"Well, that is the plan." Wonyoung nods after letting her hair fall again. “He doesn’t have much choice now.”
"Oh, he will have a choice,” Yujin speaks through a smirk. “But the result will be the same."
-
"I like things dirty. Natural. That’s just me."
That's her response to you asking exactly how she lives in the hellhole you just left. An answer as serious as you will ever get from Minju.
There's an awkward couple of seconds where you check to see the driver's reaction and you lock eyes through his rear view. The narrow cut of his face doesn't give you the full expression and you can't tell if he's disturbed or impressed. After a moment it passes and you focus back on the girl to your side.
"Where do you even eat?" you ask.
"Take-out, duh." You both share a look and Minju is smiling with her eyes. "I just put it on my lap when I sit down."
"But where do you sit? The ground?"
"Preferably on your co—"
"Hey, we're close now." You cut her off before she makes it even more uncomfortable for the driver.
"Swing a right here," Minju calls out to him. He shoots another look back in the mirror, this time his furrowed brows show his annoyance. "And pull up on the left."
Minju telling the guy how to do his job is actually a very Minju thing to do. As unappreciated as it may be.
You check your watch. Fifteen minutes late. Great. Hopefully, you can slip in and the girls won't notice. You could play it off cool, say you've been there all along and they must have missed you. You would have to slip away from Minju though, she would give the game away.
Maybe she reads your face, or the silence might have been a clue. Minju taps your shoulder and tells you not to worry. Stop caring about what others think and just walk in like you own the place.
You step out first and rush around to get to Minju's door. She scoffs as you open it. "And they say chivalry is dead." Her words come paired with a grin. You offer your hand to hers which she takes and uses to help pull her up. She straightens herself out, and checks to see that her skirt is all aligned before looking up at you.
You close the door and the driver is quick to pull away. "Hey, Minju, maybe you can go in first and then I will—"
"Shh." She locks her arm around yours at the elbow. "Stop. Just walk."
She pulls, tugging you alongside her, you adjust your footing to walk alongside, arm in arm, as she guides you up the stairs to the man at the door. Minju rests her head on your shoulder. You don't ask, don't protest. You can feel how easy it is, with her walking at your side, and so you say nothing. Just like she wants.
The six-foot-four bouldering giant is the first to speak, "Minju. Haven't seen you here for a while. Welcome back." His wide face, chiselled with age and experience, splits in a welcoming grin.
Minju softly bows her head and you follow her lead. "Been busy," is the reply she gives.
The security gives one single nod and replies, "As they say, a busy person doesn't have time to be unhappy." He grins even wider this time.
Minju ignores the impromptu attempt at philosophy and you both pass by into the house. The place is huge; of course it is—it's a mansion in the hills. But even from the outside, you couldn't have expected this.
Straight ahead is a huge, curved stairwell. On either side of you, it opens into a series of corridors already full of a smattering of guests. Music pours from off to the left. The unmistakable rhythm of that one K-pop song you heard all last week but still don't know the name of. People are sitting around, lounges filled with men in the latest fashion and women dressed to perfection. Most if not all with drinks in hand.
"Let's get us a drink." Minju pulls gently on your arm. "I'm thinking tequila."
There's not much else you can do right now. Your hope of making a low-key appearance, blending in with the crowd and slipping through unnoticed, is completely lost now as Minju takes a long, slow and deliberate approach through the place. She keeps your arm linked with hers, and as she saunters, her stride is swayed.
You feel the call to arms. You straighten your back, broaden your shoulders and strut like you belong. A few heads turn. Probably more for her than you, but the confidence still builds. There's not a single person in sight you think who could question whether you belong or not. The trick, you realise, is not to doubt yourself. Just walk in like you own the place. Minju’s words echo in your mind.
Two girls catch your gaze from the corner of your eye. They have their hands by their mouth, sharing unheard whispers while looking in your direction as you walk by. It takes a few moments, to narrow them down and figure it out. It's the two girls who fought outside school the other day, clearly having settled their differences.
You both enter the kitchen to find a young woman wrestling a bottle of champagne. Rei struggles over and over until it eventually pops, much to her delight. She lets out a loud squeal of surprise and looks over at two of her companions who took a step back when it popped.
Rei's friend stands just behind her, stifling an unheard giggle. She takes the bottle from Rei's hands and begins to pour. Golden bubbles into a set of four flutes.
That's when Rei finally notices you. She screams some incoherent words and throws her arms around you, almost knocking you off balance to the floor and taking Minju with you. The girl is already drunk.
"Oh my god! Come, come, uncle, meet my friends."
"Uncle?" Minju remarks.
"Don’t ask," you whisper from the corner of your mouth before Rei pulls the pair of you along.
"This is Liz." She points to the lady with the silver-purple hair, holding the bottle of champagne. She wears a thin black lace choker on her neck above the low cut of her top. As well as a pair of black leather trousers that run into her heeled boots. Rei throws her arms around Liz's waist. "Hey Liz, did I tell you about my new sexy uncle who saves me like a knight?"
Her question meets a look of confusion and a narrow-eyed glance at you. The girl smiles at you, in a forced what-the-fuck-is-happening kind of way. She says something to Rei that you can't quite make out over the sounds of conversation around you.
One of the other girls picks up her glass before introducing herself. "Sakura." She holds out an elegant hand. A pretty girl with delicate features, a flawless complexion, and pink waves that flow over her shoulders. You reach out and take her hand. "Welcome to my house. I don't believe we have met." Her accent is lyrical and pronounced, with the right amount of cute.
You introduce yourself and barely finish doing so before Minju takes over. "Long time no see. Both of you. Come here Nako, Kkura." Minju breaks her lock with your arm to go embrace the two girls. She hugs the girls with affection. No love lost between them.
She's asking them a series of the usual questions. How's life? How are you doing? What happened to the person with the name you don't recognise? Have they moved to Australia? They did? How many months ago?
Then Sakura turns her attention to you.
"It is good you have a new friend." She tells Minju. "Did you meet him at a shoot?"
You think that's a compliment, at least.
Rei laughs before Minju corrects Sakura, "he's in my class, Kkura. He isn't a model." Rei tells her, still laughing. "I see what you're saying though, it's the eyes. Put him on an ad and I'm buying."
"I like his cheekbones," Kkura responds.
"I'm right here, ladies." They're talking like you're not in the room and your face is starting to burn.
"Sorry." Kkura's voice is sugary sweet. Her smile and coy gaze even more so. "Enjoy your night. I have more guests to greet." Sakura spins and struts away with Nako in tow, before stopping beside two men that seem a little lost.
"Come." Rei tugs your arm, almost spilling her drink on you. "What are you two drinking?" she asks, not waiting for a response.
"I'll just have a beer—"
"Tequila." Minju doesn't miss a beat.
"I don't think there's tequila..." Rei steps toward the liquor bottles and Liz silently follows.
"Ugh." Minju doesn't try to hide her disdain. "The champagne then." She looks over and picks up two full champagne flutes from the table.
"Did you two get a card yet?" Rei asks.
"Card?" you ask back.
"No, we haven't," Minju says before turning to you and handing you a glass. "Didn't anyone tell you? That's the rule tonight. Everyone has to take a card with a challenge that they have to complete, with evidence or a witness. Anyone who fails to do it by eleven has to do a forfeit."
"Does everyone know what's on the cards or what the forfeit is?"
"Nope," she winks, before downing her glass of champagne. "That's the fun. So what did you girls get?"
"Mine was easy," Rei says. "All I had to do was kiss a guy wearing white. Did that as soon as I came in." Rei points off into a distance somewhere. You can't make out where the finger ends its aim.
"And you, Liz?" you ask, and she avoids any eye contact with you.
"She might have to forfeit." Rei laughs. "Tell them what you got." She pats her friend on the back.
"Um, I— I have to... finger a woman..." She just about squeezes the words from her lips before she quickly takes a drink. Hiding her burning face behind a hand.
Minju's eyes open wide and you hear Rei giggle into her drink. "Have you ever?" you ask, and there's no need for her to answer you. The look of anxiety and panic on her face tells you everything.
"I offered to help," says Rei. "You know, as a friend. Still stands by the way."
"Thanks..." Liz forces the response through her covered mouth.
"What other stuff is in there?" you ask, pondering the possibilities.
"Liz probably got one of the hardest." Rei shrugs. "Some of them are just about drinking or other stupid dares."
"Or she got the best one," Minju comments. "We better get ours." Minju slides her arm around yours again.
Rei leans into you before you leave, whispering, "If it's a tough one, I can help." Then she slips away and Minju pulls on your arm.
"Thanks, girls, see you soon."
The rest of the crowd fills the rooms you walk through. People are already on the dance floor, holding their drinks as they bounce, or holding onto other people as the rhythm guides their bodies together.
In the next room, there are two tables, each with a person behind and people crowding at each of them. "So these are the cards, right? I hope I get an easy one..."
"I hope you get a tough one. What if you have to suck a cock?" Minju asks.
"Then I take a forfeit."
"Okay but what if the forfeit is that you have to suck two cocks?" She jokes and laughs.
"Funny..."
"Alright. I'm going first."
You're just about to follow her in when you hear your name called from behind. You know the voice without looking back, a smooth melody in song and one that tenses your body up. As Minju walks away, Yujin walks toward you.
You turn and there she is. Wow. It's only been a few hours since you saw her last, and yet, like every other time you see her, she blows you away. The red dress is, honestly, amazing. Fitting tightly at the waist, flattering her shape and highlighting those hips. As ever, she gave the outfit her own personal flair, wearing it a little different than when she tried it on earlier, with one strap off the shoulder now. The thing about Yujin is that, sure, someone could wear the same clothes as her, but they could never wear them like she does.
She has changed her hair too, pinning part of it up behind a piece of jewelled decoration. And then there's that smile. Perfect, dazzling. Full lips curled slightly at the sides, pearlescent teeth peeking through. The sparkling glint of her deep eyes looking up at yours.
She sees through the silence. "What's wrong? What are you staring at?" Her little giggle comes with a poke to the centre of your chest. It brings your focus back to reality. "Don't I look okay?"
"Yeah— of course— Yujin—" You say her name as if she isn't the absolute centre of your attention. She giggles a second time and draws a circle in the centre of your chest with her forefinger, tracing it and smiling as you struggle for words.
"What, do I have lipstick on my teeth or something?" She brings a manicured fingertip across her grin and you shake your head in return.
"Not that I can see," you answer.
"Then what are you staring at? See something you want?" She's teasing you but you manage to stumble through the answer.
"You look..." It doesn't matter what words you try and find. She does that half-lidded, cocking her head thing to the side and you're lost again. Lost to her, hypnotised by her. It's embarrassing.
The giggle grows into a laugh, her shoulders shrugging with amusement as she closes her eyes for a second, shaking her head softly. She places her hand on your collar, smoothing over the edge of your blazer and then adjusting it over your shoulders. "You dressed up well. Not used to seeing you in something so smart." She runs her hands down the front of your blazer, pressing it against your body to straighten it. "You look good," Yujin says with a final, gentle pat at the centre of your chest.
"I need to take a card." You brush over the compliment—you’ve never really been that good at taking them.
"Better hurry up before they're all gone, you don't want to have to do the forfeit. Once you get one, make sure you find me." She pokes her finger into your chest. "It's important, okay?" She bats her eyelashes at you. You promise you'll be there, you're sure of it, and then with a final smile, she leaves and heads towards a different room, slipping into the crowds.
The whole exchange is over far too quickly. The phantom touch of Yujin's fingers lingers on your chest, even as she disappears. You would stand, spellbound forevermore, a statue set upon the tiles, if it wasn't for the fact you look a complete fool standing and staring into nothing.
You turn to the tables and can't spot Minju in the crowd. You spend some time waiting, working your way forward as people collect their cards until you're at the front. A woman holds out a deck of face-down cards and you draw one from it, slip it into your pocket and quickly move on.
"You look lost. Like a lamb." The unmistakable sound of Wonyoung's voice rings out. "I'm surprised you even showed up. Last I heard you were crying into a whiskey." Her laugh has the venom of a snake, with an even worse bite. Her purple dress hugs her slender frame. It clings to the sharp contours of her shoulders. An expensive jewelled necklace rests in the centre of her bare upper chest.
"I wasn't crying..." You deny the accusation.
Wonyoung presses her hands to your shoulders, forcing you into place as she meets your eyes. "Wasn’t sure if you would show your face tonight. Don’t worry, no one knows what happened, and I can keep it that way." There's something about Wonyoung that always feels intimidating, especially now, with how her eyes seem to trap you and the way her voice plays out so assured, full of certainty and purpose. "But it’s a good thing you’re here. I need you."
"What do you mean?" It's been barely a minute and she's already asking things of you. She just brushes over the storm she caused and the damage she could have done to your life.
Wonyoung leans close and moves her lips to your ear. "You know that idiot boyfriend of mine? Well, I need him to catch us."
"You're joking, right?" you ask, and then after a brief moment of silence her message sinks in and you realise she isn't joking. "Haven’t we done enough damage?"
"I’m already solving your school issue, so the least you can do is help me out." She dismisses your problems as always. "Right now I need you to focus and help me make him break up with me." Wonyoung strokes your cheek. "Does that sound doable?"
You bite down into your lip, trying to contain your emotions and to keep your annoyance from bubbling to the surface.
"Great thanks. I will find you when I need you." With a cruel and patronising tap to your head, Wonyoung smiles smugly.
"I didn't even agree."
"You never said no to fucking me before. And it's not like Minju's pussy even comes close to mine."
She flashes a dark grin at you before disappearing through the crowds. Fuck you do have a type of girl, and fuck does Wonyoung and her attitude get under your skin. In some sick and twisted way, it still turns you on. Fuck.
It's probably about time to get away. To leave the party and this fucked up life. Anyone with a little bit of sense would. In the end, you just settle for going to the bathroom.
-
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For five minutes you have been waiting and the line hasn't budged. Too many people waiting to use a single bathroom.
"You're Minju's date right?" You turn to find the pink-haired girl from earlier standing beside you. The one who owns this place. Her thin lips curve to a gentle, elegant smile that cuts across her pale complexion. You realise now, stood beside her, how dainty she is. Her petite frame matches her cute voice. "Are you waiting in line?"
"Yeah, I—" you reply, not fully sure where the question is leading but her widening smile interrupts you.
"Follow me." She starts walking, expecting you to not question her command. You walk behind her, her slim frame adorned elegantly in light fabric. Pink waves flow over her bare, exposed shoulder. Her heels strike the floor with a rhythm of confidence. She glides gracefully with poise and intent. Her every step is punctuated with a swagger you cannot match.
With her hair bobbing softly, she calls out your name. "Up here. Then the third door on the right. My close friends are allowed upstairs. And you, I guess."
"Oh. Thank you."
She says nothing else, just gliding away and leaving you at the base of the stairs.
After a quick climb you find the door she described. It's unassuming, a standard wooden door that looks identical to all the others. You put a hand to the cold metal and push. A coolness greets your fingers as the gap opens and you let yourself inside.
The bathroom is pristine. Immaculate. Spacious. Porcelain and polished. Glass and stainless steel. There's the familiar hum of a ventilation unit set into the ceiling, the fans circling in constant rotation. To the back, a large double shower, framed by the marble walls and lit by the mood-setting hue of soft lights.
Finally, a room in this place that, to your relief, is empty.
When you've finished up you head to the sink and wash. You lean over it to study yourself in the mirror, one last touch up of your hair and a pull to straighten out the creases of your clothes.
Then the door crashes open.
Rei stumbles in with all the poise of a newborn calf. "Hey, sexy uncle. Didn't know you were in here. How is my aunt?" She laughs in a raspy slur. "What were you doing? Oh." Her finger taps against her bottom lip, trying her best to appear conspiratorial.
"Nothing, I—"
Rei continues. "Playing with yourself?" She points to the zipper you forgot to close. "Hope you think about me."
You give your answer and say, "actually, I was just doing normal toilet stuff. Nothing weird."
"Boring." She declares, slamming the door behind her. Rei ignores you as she walks over to the toilet, slipping her hand under her dress and pulling down her underwear. You're immediately heading to the door, giving her the privacy she didn't even bother to ask for. "Where are you going uncle?"
"Back to the party." You're just about to turn the doorknob when her voice hits you in the back.
"Don't go. Don't leave me all alone."
You sigh, slouching your shoulders and loosening your grip on the door. "Only if you agree to stop calling me uncle."
"Okay, okay. Promise,” she says and then she mumbles something, laughing as she does. Eventually, she speaks loud enough to hear. "Stop staring at the door. You can look at me."
You turn to find her sitting there. A small pair of panties by her ankles. A smile on her face. Her smooth thighs jutted out from the bottom of her dress, bare down to her heels.
"Thanks again," Rei says. "You saved me today."
"Happy to help." You walk towards the sink and mirror again, unsure what to do with yourself.
Luckily, Rei refuses silence. "What's going on with you and Minju?" Unluckily, she's chosen the worst topic of conversation.
"We just met. We're friends I guess."
"Just buddies," she says playfully. "Fuck buddies."
"Do you only ever think about sex?" You ask, turning away and towards your reflection. Your question is answered only with the sound of her flushing the toilet.
There's the briefest moment of silence that follows until you can hear her steps on the tiles. She walks to your side, washing her hands and staring at you in the reflection. "I do actually. Especially when I was supposed to cum five hours ago and still haven't had the chance to finish myself off."
This girl is unfiltered. It's commendable that she is so true to her desires. So bold and honest in the face of the fear of judgment.
"Or maybe it's when I'm in the same room as an incredibly hot guy and my panties are still on the floor." There's a lustful rasp to her voice now. You turn to look at her, at the full, sparkling light in her eye, and you let your gaze wander lower. You stray to her shoulder, where her dress hangs loose. The dress clung across her frame, covering her bust but leaving enough for your imagination to formulate the shape of them beneath.
"Rei..." You draw her name out to a few syllables and with it a few extra moments for your thoughts to come together. "What are you thinking?"
"What is your thing?" Her question catches you off guard. "What do you like?" Rei brings her thumb to her lips, pushing it into her mouth and sucking gently. "Do you really like getting your cock sucked? What do you want?"
Her fingers stroke your chin. Soft pads massage and caress with a teasing, tantalising touch. Her face gets closer, inch by inch, and you can smell the sweet scent of her perfume. You can hear her ragged breath as she loses control. And your heart, beating like a drum inside your chest.
"I owe you one. And I'm ready to do anything." She says it with such unashamed candour and it sets your cheeks aflame.
"Do you do this for everyone who is nice to you?" you whisper.
She shakes her head, "only the really fucking hot ones."
You're close. Your breathing is shallow. Every part of you tells you it's a bad idea, but that's what is so enticing. That's why your cock is pulsing. She reaches forward and rubs her palm gently up and down over the bulge.
She gives you a gentle wink. "Tell me what you want. What's your favourite part of me? And don't give me something sappy like my humour. Think with your cock." As she says the words she squeezes her grip on it. Her fingers slowly closing, holding and massaging. Her lips are soft, slightly parted. That adorable face. Sparkling eyes. And the taste of the words that lingers on your lips.
"You have great legs." You indulge her in an answer.
"See, now was that so hard?" She buries her hand into your trousers through the open zipper. "So what will it be? My thighs? Knees? My feet? I usually don't like when people see my feet but if you're that desperate to cum on them. They're all yours."
You drop a hand down by her side and reach to grab her leg by the thigh. "You have great thighs."
You swear the excitement on her face could light up the city. "There we go. Tell me what you want to do." She pushes her hand around in your trousers, fishing out your cock.
You lean into her ear. "I want you to wrap those beautiful thighs around my cock." You can't believe the words you're saying to her. Neither can she. The sound of her shallow breath is ragged as she runs it through her mind. She nods.
"Then I will."
Rei gently strokes you to life, massaging you until the blood begins to rush. Soon enough, you are ready, hard and hungry. Your pulse quickens with every gentle rub of her hand. You slip a hand around the back of her neck. "Not a word to anyone." Your words make her giggle and she responds with a breathless shush.
You turn her to the sink, putting her between you and it and she releases your cock. Rei spits in her hand while you're hiking her dress up over her bare ass and then she reaches behind her to cover your cock in her saliva. With one hand you guide your cock and she gasps with excitement as you rest your length between her legs, pressing and grinding.
Rei looks at you through the mirror and smirks as she pressed her legs together, closing your slick cock between her thighs. "Use me. I want to see you enjoy this."
Your arms wrap her torso. You grab a firm breast through her clothes as your other arm wraps her. Pull her closer to you. Your mouth against her ear, feeling the warmth of her, breathing in the soft scents from her perfumes, you inhale it all.
Your mouth parts and you groan with the growing sensation building inside you. Her legs squeeze tightly around you as you slip back and forth between them. The way they hold you is incredible, snug and slick. Her skin smooth and grasping.
Rei reaches between her legs, putting her delicate touch on the tip of your cock poking between her legs. Her fingers pull at you, directing your cock higher between her thighs. Before long, you feel her folds envelop the tip. As wet as ever. Rei squeezes and grinds, pushing your tip against her clit.
"I want it all," she hisses through her teeth. You grip her flesh, holding her on the edge of what she craves. Slipping between her thick thighs over and over again, refusing to drive into her cunt.
You pull at her nipples through her dress. Tease. Bite her ear. Kiss her shoulder. Run your nose up her neck. Inhale her perfume. And the most torturous thing to ever do to Rei:
Slow down.
Your thrusts between her legs become measured. Deliberate. Long, hard and powerful motions, dragging over her slit. She whimpers, "why are you making me wait?"
In the mirror her features flush, eyes clench closed and lips tremble. A flush of red flows through her skin. Her breath quickens, rasping between every uttered plea. Your dick is throbbing. Your senses electrifying. Every part of you tenses with the burning urge. Every cell and sinew wants to drive into that incredible cunt but the drumroll is exquisite.
"Do it," Rei begs. The anticipation becoming a torrent for her, as much as your own, the joy of desire and the torment of denial.
"When I'm ready," is all the answer she will get from you.
"Please. I have needed a good cock all day." Her words fill the cool room. They bounce from the hard white surfaces. Dancing to the hum of the ventilation.
"This is you saying thank you, isn't it?" you growl into her ear. "My choice. I want your tits first."
Her lips utter the words 'whatever you want, yes' a few times over. Each utterance pleading, begging; each one filled with desire. Desperate to ease the tension inside, she quickly reaches up her back and unzips her dress for you. She peels it open to reveal her bare back and the strap of her bra.
You work at her bra while she slips out of her dress. It's all so rushed. Almost clumsy. Everything is loose now, and she shakes it all off, kicking it all to the side and turning to you, completely naked. "Fuck, you're hot," you say before realising. The words slip from you, unplanned, raw, genuine.
"I know." Rei grins and then she cups her tits, two perfect handfuls. "So you like these, huh?"
You nod.
She squeezes them, flesh spilling between spread fingers. "And if I give you them, then will you fuck me?"
She pouts those soft lips that drive you wild. She arches her back and presents them for you, waiting, hands by her side. Eager. The invitation is unmistakable. You bend her backwards against the sink, arching her lower back over the marble top and then pressing your body against her. "Yes."
You lower your head and smile at her, her stiff nipple right by your lips. You blow a warm, heavy stream of air over it and she giggles softly. You don't just take her offered tits. Not yet. Instead, you kiss between them, wrapping your tongue to lick up her torso, upwards toward her collarbones. You nibble the protrusion gently with your teeth. Her breaths become short sharp puffs as her body tenses with each graze.
You run your tongue back down again, towards a nipple. You take it into your mouth, licking and then biting. Slowly pulling at her nipple with your teeth, stretching and toying, listening for her moaning, soft and suppressed, with a rising note of pleasure.
She pats at the back of your head and squirms at each pinch of your teeth. You switch nipples, wetting it in your mouth and sucking at it, allowing it to release with a popping sound, and then giving it a quick bite.
Your hands begin to travel across Rei's body—traversing and wandering in their exploration of her skin. Grabbing and feeling, always squeezing her softness with lust in one moment and adoration the next.
"Can't wait any longer,” she says in frustrated impatience. Rei strokes the back of your head, raking her nails against your scalp. She leans back, supporting herself on one arm and pushing her chest out towards your face. She closes her eyes and hums.
You think that Rei enjoys a little more biting than is conventional. Enjoying a small amount of pain with her pleasure, you know it when she moans loudly every time your teeth tug at her sensitive flesh. Her hands pull at the base of your skull and grasp at your hair. Her body moves beneath you, desperate to find any sort of friction between her legs. You can see the pleasure and pain in her expressions alternating between one another. Rei moans your name out. A hushed whisper, begging you to fuck her. To put her out of her misery.
"Patience," you tell her. The single word causing so much frustration.
She groans through gritted teeth before buckling under your teasing. Rei mutters, "Just fuck me with your big fucking cock already." Her hands desperately pull you from her chest, but you refuse. She continues her pleas; begging you to stop being so cruel; to take mercy on her; that her aching cunt can't wait another second.
She's reaching for your trousers now, unfastening them and pushing them away from your hips so they fall to your ankles.
"On your knees first." 
Rei's eyes go wide at your demands.
She pouts, but the blush on her cheeks is unmistakably eager. She falls from the sink onto her knees. Rei has that look in her eyes, an appetite, and it shows as clear as day. You're holding her by the hand and pulling her as you find a seat on the side of the bath.
Rei crawls over, a naughty grin plastered across her face. She presses her palms onto your knees and parts your legs for her to take her place between them. As soon as she has a close-up of the prize, she all but licks her lips with excitement, grasping a hold of it tightly. "Oh god, it's so big," Rei's eyes light up in delight as she feels the thickness and weight. "Fuck me. Why did you keep this big, beautiful cock from me until now?"
Her fingers run up and down over it gently—just soft grazes against your skin. Soothing. Tender. When her tongue first touches the underside of your head, it sends shivers through you. Rei drags it up, sliding and caressing, all the while keeping eye contact with her fluttering, batting gaze. Then she runs the very tip across her plump, kissable lips, leaving behind a wet line before diving forward and wrapping her mouth around you.
A soft 'fuck' escapes you at the warmth of her mouth engulfing you. She smiles, pulling away and then admiring your cock with her teeth biting the flesh of her bottom lip. Rei kisses her way down the bottom of your shaft before just staring at it again. "It's so perfect. Your cock is literally a fucking work of art."
"It's going to look even better pressed between those beautiful tits," you reply to her compliment.
She takes the hint and pushes her tits towards it. "My tits love your cock already." Rei presses your cock against her nipple and pushes, teasing. "But not as much as my pussy will."
"Rei." Her eyes are lost in their new interest. You run a hand over the side of her face. The soft skin of her cheek. Pushing her hair behind an ear. Touching her lips gently with your thumb. "Will you put those amazing tits to good use? For me?" You ask as you push your thumb into her mouth, which makes her look up at you and she accepts it.
She nods her agreement.
"Good girl, Rei," you reply. Your voice is calm, smooth, and silky. The reaction you receive is everything you could hope for. Her pupils widen, her ears redden, and her face flushes. The combination of praise, and a dominant tone and touch, seems to really make her glow.
Rei obliges to the command.
Wet with her saliva, Rei's breasts wrap around your aching cock with ease. Her skin is soft and velvety. Flesh mouldable and forgiving. So warm. So smooth. Perfect.
Once your cock is settled between the swell of her breasts, Rei rocks her chest against it. A steady movement up and down; the sensual rubbing of flesh. Rei looks up at you, the hunger written plain to read across her face as she slides her tits against you. Her fingers intertwine across her tits, holding them together. She moans gently against your thumb as your cock continues to protrude from her cleavage over and over. The sounds reverberate inside her warm, wet mouth, stimulating as they tickle against your skin.
The ache inside you, the tense of muscle and flexed sinews—it builds. Pools and twists and heats in the centre of your body. Rei moans again. She talks through it too. The thumb pressing inside her mouth inhibits it only slightly. "I need it in my pussy. I would even take it in my ass right now. I need you."
Truth is, you need to fuck her just as badly now, too. "Stand." Immediately, Rei's shoulders drop as she pulls her breasts away and follows your order. "Bend over the sink."
"Finally." She's grinning when she moves. Placing her feet wide and leaning on the marble of the sink. You follow her every step.
You run a hand down her leg, gripping behind the knee and hooking it into the air, planting her leg onto the surface. She's open and so very willing. You draw your cock against her a final time, watch her contorted face in the mirror, and then slide into her.
Her eyes flash open and her jaw drops agape. A breathless silence. Now a burst of laughter broken by gasps for air. She grins and giggles and moans as you pound into her from behind. Her small hands claw against the sink, scrambling for something to hold to stabilise herself and support against the onslaught.
A hand on her hip to keep her in place, you reach the other to her neck. You grab and pull, rearing her back. Draw her flush with your body. Her soft skin against your chest. Her long hair is on your shoulder. She laughs again as you do it, sweet pleasured giggles that just don't stop.
"Harder, harder." She strains the words through the squeezing of her throat.
"Like it rough?" you spit into her ear and her lips turn in a grin.
"Like it rough." Her voice a coarse mess. Saliva runs from the corner of her mouth, tinted pink by her lipstick.
You slide your grip up from her neck, fingers along her jaw, thumb and finger pressed into her cheeks. "Fuck. You were right. Pussy so good I can see why guys struggle with you." You pull her head backwards and grind deeper into her. Tight and wet. Her cunt hugs so perfectly around your length that you worry she won't let you out.
"Wony was right. Best. Fuck. Ever." Every single thrust draws the words out into a pathetic moan, and then she laughs again and she strains to force more words. "Gonna cum."
You slip your hand back down to her throat and she grabs at your wrist, not to resist your grip or pull you free, only to reassure and to let you know what she wants. You grip and squeeze.
"Cum for me you pretty slut." Your voice is husky as your will consumes you. Her cries fill the bathroom, her ecstatic bliss heard a thousand times over as she feels her ecstasy roll through.
There is no gentle passing through her orgasm. You care not for how it plays. You don't ride the waves and slow your pace to accommodate it. Her cum spills warm around your cock. Slippery juices seep to her thighs and drip onto the floor as you keep up the relentless pace of your hips, each drive forward, piercing. Her body held against the marble, with her waist pressed against the edge. Her hands are frantic. Scrambling once more for support as you tear her apart with fervour.
"Rei?” The door opens. “Everything okay? Oh, fuck." 
Liz stands in the doorway, stunned and staring. She's about to turn away and run out of the room but before she can step away, Rei speaks through her pleasure.
"Liz. Fuck." The words spill from her breathless mouth. Liz turns back to see the girl cumming again. You can see the astonishment in her gaze, unable to look away, drawn to the display of ecstasy. This time you slow and your hand slips away from her throat.
Rei squirms against the marble counter. The second wave crests and passes and this time her mind does clear. Your cock slows to a stop in her. Rei whips her head around to look at Liz.
"What the fuck?" Liz takes a step back, halfway out of the room, the door almost closing.
"Wait! Come here,” Rei calls out and Liz steps forward again. "Close the door. Quick."
Liz moves toward you and closes the door behind her. She presses herself back against it, watching in amazement as you freeze, still buried in her best friend. You were so blinded by fucking Rei that you didn't even consider stopping, but as rationality takes back over and the situation takes shape in your mind, you suddenly feel trapped under Liz's gaze. You dare not to look in her direction.
For all your tension, Rei is a complete contrast. Relaxed. The utter ease with which she just smiles, looks Liz directly in the eye and says the most casual, inappropriate things. "I'm more than okay. How are you?"
"I—" the question catches her off guard and she stammers an awkward, jolted sentence. Her eyes move to the space between you and Rei where you're still connected. She opens her mouth as if to speak but no words come out. She stutters another broken attempt. Liz eventually shakes her head and replies, "good. Not good. I mean okay. Well, good, but not because—"
She's stumbling over her words until Rei stops her. "Think we have a bit longer in us." She looks over her shoulder to you. "Not gonna cum yet, are you?"
"No," you reply. Entirely confused and a little uncomfortable—not sure exactly what is happening right now. You look back at Liz and she's staring right at you. Wide eyes, open mouth. It's not quite fear you're seeing in them, not disgust either. A cocktail of emotions playing on her face that you wish you could unpick.
"Want to join?" Rei asks. The question hangs in the air. Her tone is light and playful as if it's the most normal question in the world. She can't possibly mean that. She has to be joking. A jest for entertainment and Liz's amusement.
"Isn't this Wonyoung's...?" Liz leaves her question incomplete, letting Rei finish the thought.
"I already asked her. He's fair game." She did? When was this? Does that mean Rei planned to fuck you all along? The confusion only worsens the more you think. Your brain hurts trying to make sense of this. The absolute weirdness of it. And despite it, or rather, because of it, you find this whole thing so much... hotter.
Liz pushes herself off the door and says, "we did talk about it that one time..." She takes a step forward and then continues, "how we wanted to share a guy. But him? Here? Now?"
Liz takes another step forward and you take a tentative step back, slipping out from inside Rei and standing exposed. She gives an offended little groan of displeasure and then slips her leg down from the sink and turns to face you. Suddenly you're feeling lonely and exposed with the two girls staring at you.
"Yeah. Why not?" Rei asks Liz so casually. So blasé. Like she was suggesting what to eat for dinner and not asking Liz to join in a threesome. "And it's not like he would mind. Look how hard he is." Liz stares at the state of your cock. Twitching in the air. Lubricated with Rei.
Liz drags her eyes back to your face and asks you, "do you want me?"
As if you could ever say no. To those large round eyes. To her delicate mouth. The slender body beneath the cocktail dress. To those hips that sway as she continues to walk until she's standing next to Rei.
Rei reaches behind Liz, holding her by the ass and pushing her the final step toward you. Liz instinctively reaches, taking gentle hold of your wet cock. She's standing so close that her tits just graze against your chest. You look down slightly at the woman who's looking back up at you.
Rei asks you now, "do you want us?"
You stay paused for a moment, glancing at Rei for half a second before returning to Liz's stare. You nod gently then lean in to kiss her. The moment your mouths touch your hands begin roaming, one groping for a breast and the other to her lower back, holding her in close. Her tongue presses into you with the urgency you need and she holds you tight by the back of your neck.
You forget about Rei for a moment, giving everything to Liz. Stifling moans of your excitement into her mouth. Your hands feel over her, exploring her from hips to chest to waist—everywhere—before sliding her zipper down over her back and stopping just short of her ass.
Liz stops to catch her breath and it's the moment Rei waited for. One girl at your mouth and one at your neck, the kiss a wet mass of three people fighting with tongues and lips. A hand, presumably Liz's, strokes you gently and with a rhythm. Another on your lower back and another helping you push away Liz's dress. Rei's teeth pinch your neck and a familiar laugh rings out.
"So fucking hot," she whispers in your ear before she bites at your lobe.
Liz's dress falls free from her body, piling by her feet. You pull back for a moment. A moment to drink this beauty in. To see her stunning figure. Standing before you in heels, breasts jutted, is the image of perfection. Rei moves behind her, unclasping her bra and it joins her dress on the floor, revealing perky breasts that yearn for your touch.
Your mouth attacks her and her hands are clutching at you, gripping your head, neck, arms, anything she can as you suck a nipple into your mouth. Your hands explore over her skin. Trailing every part, learning her curves, the contours. The way they flow and mould and ripple.
"Don't hog the good parts," Rei hisses in your ear, breaking the trance Liz's tits had you caught under. Your hand and hers fight for the right to touch Liz. All while her eyes roll back from the bliss of being touched so hungrily.
Rei runs a delicate hand between Liz's legs and she tenses for a moment, sucking in a gasp. Her mouth contorts. Another gasp as Rei continues to brush over the fabric nestled between her thighs.
"Tell him what you want, Liz."
She stammers, gasping again before replying, "Want to ride. Ride his cock." She has barely taken her hand off it this whole time she was being undressed and now she rubs it a little faster. Squeezing a little tighter.
Things start to move in a bit of a blur, unsure of whose hands are on whom or whose mouth and body are pressed against yours as all three of you shuffle towards one side of the room. Somewhere through it, Rei took the lead and made sure you found yourself sitting on the lid of the toilet. Liz's underwear have long since been discarded and she's found herself perched on your thigh.
Liz wraps her arms around your neck as she straddles your leg. She's wrapping her body around you. Grinding against you. Making desperate sounds. Reaching with her mouth to find yours and planting her kisses.
Rei sits on you too, having helped off whatever remained of your clothes. She grinds too, using your other thigh. Rubbing her wet pussy on your leg, while the fingers of one hand comb and massage over your hair while her other trails her nails lightly over your skin. Her lips are soft against your shoulder. The smell of sex fills your nose. You breathe it in, finding yourself wanting.
Rei is so very dangerous to your senses. The softness of her touches. The sensual, raspy tones of her whisper in your ear. How your cock pulses with every plea.
"Keep your dick ready. We will put it to such good use." The first of many dirty promises and sweet nothing Rei whispers as the minutes draw past. She grows ever more erratic. And in contrast, Liz is controlled and measured, fucking her cunt against your leg with focused intent.
They writhe and roll their hips with the urgency of their heat. Wet, pink, and needy cunts, gliding over your skin. Desperate for friction.
"Oh Liz!" Rei moans.
"Ah! Fuck! Don't—”
Liz moves. Unsure, jolting, wracked and robbed of rhythm. It's in those moments Rei leans in for a kiss. Both girls writhe with pleasure, hands to breasts and mouths joined. It's at once an incredible sight. Incredibly erotic and exotic. The display of sensuous want. Skin aflame. Dew of their heat collected.
"Please fuck him," Rei breathes her demands through ragged and frantic breaths. Rei stands and guides, drawing Liz towards your cock, impatient and urgent, with a vice-like grip on her arm. "He is so good," she says through laboured breaths and wet pants.
With Rei's guidance, your dick finds its place between the folds. Wet and silky. Plush and sticky. The undersides of her soft, jiggling thighs press against you as she climbs to mount. So wonderfully slow the descent down your shaft.
It's with an agonisingly measured motion she takes your cock, inch by inch. She swallows every fraction. An exquisite glide. Feeling the undulating pattern of her depths as they shift and cling. Her lips drawn in a tight, silent circle. Her eyes clench shut as she lets out a long and strained exhale. Her back arches slightly, almost reaching the limits, taking you to the hilt.
"Oh Rei, fuck," she whispers, before opening her eyes and meeting yours. Lustful gazes meet for a long second and she leans forward. She keeps you there, lodged and tight for a moment longer. Holding onto it, and you. "Need a minute," she tells you through her laboured breathing.
The beat of your hearts collide in the tense moments as you wait. She is poised to make the most of the moment. Liz begins so slowly. Tentative. The slightest of rocks, cautious and experimental, to ensure herself and you of her control. With each subtle and calculated motion, the sweet clench of her tight insides squeeze.
Her forehead rests against yours as she looks down, fully in focus with the rise and fall.
"She's so good. Tell her," Rei purrs her words as she leans into her friend. "How nice does she feel?" Rei's kissing at Liz's neck between her words. Nipping at the skin while you can feel every shallow gasp Liz makes. The way she inhales each time with a deeper and harsher breath when Rei nips just so.
You barely manage to find your words, but you tell her. Whispering sweet compliments on how nice her pussy feels around your cock. You don't stop there, appreciating parts of her body as you touch them. Running your hands over her hips has you telling her how wonderful she feels under your fingertips, gripping her ass and holding tight to tell her how perfect she is. Her moans and groans fill your ears with music of lust and desire.
Rei's hands travel the expanse of Liz's body as she keeps nipping at her neck. She takes her nipples between her thumb and finger. Squeezes and twists. "So beautiful. He is so turned on by you." Her words encourage and drive Liz as she rides with greater pace and intensity. As the tempo rises, Rei grows impatient with her own needs. "Liz..." she whispers, "give me your hand."
Keeping one on your knee, Liz surrenders the other to Rei. Rei draws her friend in between her legs, "touch me while you ride, please, Liz."
"I don't know how." Her hips rise and fall, still working herself onto your dick. The words of a girl unsure.
Rei puts Liz's hand on her cunt and presses her fingers to the mound. "Yes, you do, just do it how you like it."
"Here," you say, moving your hand between Rei's legs, you guide Liz's fingers and show her how to stroke her friend, "press your fingers here. Move them in a circle. Small but quick circles."
"Mm, Liz, oh—" Rei moans through her strained attempt at words.
“And I think Rei likes it when—
“Ah! Yes!”
Liz puts so much focus on her friend that she struggles to keep riding, as much as her body craves it. She struggles for a while, riding your cock and rubbing Rei's clit. Soon her focus falters, and her pace decreases, losing rhythm as she struggles between the two.
"More Liz, more," Rei pleads.
You take hold of Liz's hips, your fingers digging deep into the flesh of her ass. You drive up into her and a whine escapes her lips. You take over and she pushes her fingers deeper inside Rei just as she wanted, pulling her closer and burying herself into her cunt. Rei melts into Liz as your cock pounds into her.
Rei puts an arm over your shoulder and holds onto you, clawing into your neck and holding you firm. "Ah. Liz... yes." You can tell it won't take Rei long like this. You've noticed how easy it seems to be to make her cum, so this should be no challenge even for Liz.
Surprisingly, without warning, Liz is the first to crumble. Without ceremony. Just a sudden gasping stammer that rattles in her chest. Every sound she makes is a whining, babbling, and messy blend of lust and carnal release. The two collapse against each other as you fuck Liz through her orgasm.
Rei lets out a frustrated groan as Liz struggles to keep fingering her through her tremors. "My clit. Please," she cries. "Here, Liz, here." Her voice is desperate and urgent, trying to guide Liz's finger back where she needed her. "No, no, don't stop." Rei's voice breaks again, desperate and waning.
Liz is limp, unresponsive, and falling into your arms. Totally consumed. Struggling to fight as her whole body seizes with euphoria. You wrap your hands around her body, shifting positions and sliding out of her, leaving her trembling on the toilet. Her body still wracking and twitching and jerking, whimpering and sobbing in post-orgasm bliss.
Rei is agitated. "Need your cock. Want it. Bad. So bad." She throws herself against your body, hands running all over until one grips your cock, still wet with Liz. Your cock twitches. "Need this cock. Fuck. This is making me so hot."
Never have you seen such hunger and need. Lust so dire and reckless. Rei has an inexhaustible libido—an insatiable appetite for sex. You are barely out of Liz's snatch and yet already Rei's is gushing for you. And who are you to deny such a good pussy another fucking?
You bend Rei over towards the hazy Liz. Rei's arms reach over her shoulders onto the wall and her legs spread apart over Liz's knees. You lean behind, ready to enter. Liz's hands brace her waist.
Rei looks at you over her shoulder with her devilish, sadistic smile. "Take me, stretch my fucking cunt. My pussy needs you." Her vulgar demands sound so good, with erotic venom in her words, and you're in her again.
"Yeah, yes. Finally..." Rei coos, as if you deprived her, waiting so patiently for Liz to finish. She pushes her ass back, swallowing you deeper. You run your hands over her skin; her perfect curves. "Mm... yes, finally! Like the first time."
You pound her with a vigour—merciless and rapid thrusts of your hips that drive her into Liz. For someone so small and seemingly delicate she is full of stamina and power, eager to meet every thrust. Your hips clap against her ass and her tongue falls out. A visage of mindless and unrepentant ecstasy. A cathartic euphoria. As your body collides, Rei is bent lower over the resting Liz.
She leads with her tongue, into Liz's mouth, the two girls sharing sloppy, messy, passionate kiss accompanied by stifled moans and Rei's signature giggle of pleasure.
Rei rises from the kiss to pant a sharp breath, but she quickly descends once more, licking up her neck and then sucking the lobe of her ear. While she's busy feasting on the side of Liz's neck, you lean further forward, both pushing in and down on Rei, but also to get your own fix of the girl beneath.
She's dazed and happy. Arms loosely over Rei, she looks up at you. Smiling. The sparkle still twinkling in her eyes. Blanketing and enshrouded with lust. "Feels good," she says weakly.
"For such a long time I've wondered if Liz tasted as good as her body looks," Rei teases Liz, giggling to herself as she playfully bites her neck.
Liz's cheeks flush an embarrassed shade. She replies through a gasped laugh, "you're always talking, saying stuff, teasing all the time." Liz fights through the nerves to manage to say, "you shouldn't..."
"But have you thought of us actually doing it?" You can feel the wickedness from her, her words are as playful as they are inciting and before Liz can give a reply, Rei is dragging her hand between Liz's legs.
She reacts with a spasm that shoots through her, her muscles tensing as if the faintest of touches sent an electric shock through her. Even the light, innocent touch of Rei's fingers has her rolling and squirming under you both as if she is having her every nerve picked apart. "No. Maybe. Once... Oh, fuck, Rei."
Liz buries into the crook of Rei's neck, as best she can anyway, as Rei still jolts back and forth from the pounding you're giving her. Rei just laughs. "Good answer."
You're still rutting into her from behind, and she is growing shaky, her own ability to support herself failing, struggling to remain upright, pushing down onto Liz. Rei's cumming again. Squeezing tighter around you, fighting harder for every bit of motion between your bodies.
Rei pulls her hand back from Liz to push you out and catch her breath, and she falls fully over Liz, causing her to slouch further in her seat and straddle her.
You pull out from Rei, still without release, and instinctively drop to one knee, pulling Liz's leg up to your waist and moving to slide into her again, even if Rei is kind of in the way.
So Liz lies back flat against the seat of the toilet, a panting Rei mounted over her, and you between her legs—sliding your length into her cunt.
"Why," Rei starts, interrupted by her short gasp. "Did I have to have such hot friends?" You grab Rei's ass and use it as an anchor as you drive into Liz. "I'm so jealous of you getting to fuck us all."
"Shouldn't be," you say between heavy breathing—the effort starting to wear. "This whole thing is a mess. All you girls.”
"You're killing me here," she giggles. "If I had a big, thick cock, I can't think of a better way to use it than that." Rei keeps giggling. Loving this whole thing. She is a ball of boundless energy and as you pound into Liz, she just can't resist touching. She cups Liz's breast in her hand and rolls her nipple between her thumb and finger. "I would love Liz here to cum around my cock."
"You're insane," Liz moans out. Her voice shaking; ruined by the joy you're pumping into her. Her eyes flutter, drifting in and out of bliss.
"I'm insane? You're the one getting pounded by a stranger while your best friend humps your body and plays with your tits." She's absolutely crass with her words and her actions. Durty. Obscene. She continues her verbal assault on a gasping and stunned Liz. "How long have you dreamed about a good, thick cock, fucking you stupid? How many times have you had to finger yourself while watching those amateur porn videos or reading those filthy stories online?"
Liz can barely speak to argue back.
"You girls could always... use a... strap-on." You tell them as your breath gets caught in your chest, you feel it coming. That tingling. A rolling rumble. You're already struggling, feeling the effects of the marathon. But your comment makes them both giggle.
Rei leans down and presses her mouth into Liz's neck. "We could..." Rei is growling now.
Liz is cumming again. Her insides constrict, and her body seizes. The ripples and clenches of her orgasmic vice are too much. You fall over her and press your forehead into Rei's back. Gasping. Panting for air. You're so close it hurts.
So you pull out, reluctantly, freeing your throbbing cock from her hold and standing. A whimpering gasp leaves her lips as her body still shakes.
Rei climbs down from Liz, kneeling in front of you. "A strap-on isn't the same as the real thing." She takes hold of your cock in her delicate touch. So softly, she whispers her words. So gently, they hang in the air with the melodious sound of her voice, sweet like honey and dripping from her lips. "Will you do a dirty girl a favour and paint her pretty face?"
The sight is beyond stunning—an angel on her knees. She rests the tip of your cock against her pursed lips and slowly jerks you. Her glimmering eyes looking up at you in expectant admiration. Her other hand squeezes her breast. She does this all with the utmost confidence that she is going to get exactly what she wants. You nod to her. Yes.
Liz slides from the seat, joining Rei on the floor, on her knees. Rei's hand continue while she shares a smile and a whisper with Liz, words of encouragement that prompt Liz to move in on you. She works her mouth against your balls, planting kisses and stealing licks. 
Both girls savour the taste of your cock while they play with it. They continue until their saliva soaks your length. Your shaft glistening and dripping in their lubricant as their tongues dance along your cock.
It doesn't take you much longer until the two girls are cheek-to-cheek and gazing up into your eyes with the soft strokes of their hands. "Cum for us. Cum. Paint our faces, cover us. Cum. Do it." They beg you.
And then, release.
Hot cum pumps from the tip, erupting in thick strands. The first on Rei—a long thick rope onto her forehead, down the bridge of her nose and across her cheek. She remains remarkably poised, relishing the feeling. Then onto Liz, you catch her with a lot too, just like you did Rei and she flinches. Some into her open and ready mouth. Some on her lip and rolling down her chin. She tries to take her mouth to your cock, but Rei leans in the way and wrestles control and instead, another two shots—one splatters across Rei's lips and the next into her mouth.
Rei pulls you into her and sucks, then rolls her tongue around you. Jerking the final drops and draining you empty. When your hips cease to jolt, Rei swallows. Her mouth and face—messy. Glistening. Still smiling as she looks up at you with glee in her eyes.
Liz's slouches back, propped against the toilet. Her hand plays between her legs. Thrusting her fingers with a fast, firm pace. Chasing a climax she can only finish herself. A sight that steals your attention. The glorious scene of Liz masturbating is utterly hypnotic, the music of her moans in harmony, the euphoria consuming and overwhelming and a rarity you savour.
Another drop hangs from Rei's chin. You bring your cock and tilt it—dragging the rope of cum along Rei's lip. Into her mouth. A quiet moan as she cleans you—the feeling of a dull vibration. With a final suck, she frees you and you almost stumble over, collapsing. You catch the counter, barely.
Rei turns back to her friend and pushes in—meeting mouths. Her lips kiss the taste into Liz. Taking it off her lips and drawing it into her mouth. Her tongue snakes around Liz's before the two girls join in an intense and passionate kiss. Your cum traded between the pair—back and forth. Wet and lewd. Sloppy sounds that have you mesmerised.
Liz swallows as best she can before her strained voice breaks the trance. “This is the best. It will never be topped.” Her dainty fingers still playing with her clit as she continues to savour the experience.
"Until next weekend maybe," Rei interjects. "The three of us could make a whole night of it. Though that might ruin all other sex for us forever." Rei rises to stand, glancing herself in the mirror and reaching a finger up, drawing circles over her cheek to collect a fresh trail of your cum, pressing it to the roof of her mouth and rolling it over her tongue.
It's Liz who finds a smile first, her own soft little giggle followed by a splutter and a cough. It gets you all the same, laughing, the absurdity of this whole scenario dawning on you.
"Think you could handle us for a whole night?" Rei asks you as she stands beside you, looking into the mirror as she pulls more trails of cum into her mouth. Liz stays kneeling on the floor, and she suddenly looks so shy again. Sinking into herself, as if the flush of the lust has washed her clean.
You give a quick chuckle, "maybe not... But I would enjoy every second of trying."
"Guess it is time we all get out," Rei suggests. She looks over her shoulder and says, "and, hey Liz. You're welcome."
"Hm?"
"Your card. You fingered me. So you passed the challenge."
-
Now fully dressed and looking almost like you did when you first walked in, if just a little scruffier, you leave the girls in the bathroom. You doubt anyone who sees you cares, though. The music too loud, the drink too abundant and the dancing too distracting. So no one notices when you re-join the crowds and pass through the hallways looking for someone—anyone.
You still haven't seen Minju since she disappeared at the card stand, nor Wonyoung or Yujin since they walked off into the crowd. As for Gaeul, the one person who is supposed to stop you from doing stupid things, well you haven't seen her yet at all. Maybe that's why you've fucked three girls already today, Gaeul needs to put you under 24/7 watch.
"Finally found you, bro," a voice calls from your left—right on cue.
You spin, and sure enough, it's Gaeul, standing at the corner of the hallway, arms crossed and leaning against the wall with disappointment drawn over her face. She's wearing some of the highest platformed heels you've ever seen, so she almost looks tall. The dress helps too. It's long and sleek from her shoulders down to her knees. Tight to her skin and shimmering under artificial light. An array of gold sparkles and reflective surfaces, bouncing colour everywhere.
"Gaeul, hey."
"You really shouldn't have brought her, you know that?" You had hoped to have spoke to Gaeul before she saw that Minju is here, but that was never going to happen when you're busy fucking her friends. At least she doesn't know about that—yet.
Her question is rhetorical—you know that—but you shrug and answer anyway, "she insisted."
"Oh, really?" Gaeul snaps and then guides you down the hall. Right now, she doesn't sound like the girl you know. She's agitated and annoyed and you're not actually sure if it's at you or someone else. "Sometimes I wonder what goes through your mind. I don't know if it's stubbornness or stupidity bro, but are you trying to get on their bad side?"
"Is it really that bad?"
"I just don't understand you at the minute. I'm trying to help you but I don't know how when I don't know what you want. Is it Wonyoung? Yujin? This Minju person?"
or Rei? Liz, maybe?
"Gaeul. I don't know."
She stops and turns to you, holding onto your arm. "That's the problem, bro. You know I want the best for you, but if you don't know, then neither do I."
"I can't do this now."
"Fine. Enjoy the party, just do me a favour and don't fuck anyone tonight will you?"
Oops.
-
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You Missed My Heart: PART 1
PART 1 LINK      |      PART 2 LINK      |   PART 3 LINK
Description: Miguel had died months ago. At least, my universe’s Miguel had died. Maybe I should have noticed when I could feel him touching me in my dreams, but grief is a hell of a thing. That is, until I woke up in a house that looked just like mine, but somehow different. 
Miguel had taken me from my universe and put me in one where he could relive his past, whether I liked it or not. 
Word Count: 11,107  Author’s Note: I wrote this instead of doing my college work, but I also didn’t proofread. Hopefully there aren’t too many typos! I’ll probably add more chapters in the following days/weeks Content Warning: smut, mild breeding kink, reader is being held against their will, Miguel being manipulative and an ass, bit of angst (I mean his wife and child are dead so yeah)
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          Minors DNI! Story is below the cut
The dream was hazy. Miguel sighed as he began to inch toward the edge of the mattress, drifting out of the shared embrace that we had slept in. Arms and legs untangled from one another as he drifted away from me.
I reached my hand outward, catching onto his hand before he could slip away for good. “I need to go to work.” He whispered, his voice husky and warm from sleep. But, despite his protest, he lay back down beside me. “Don’t go.” I said. My hands worked their way through the darkness, moving to curl around his broad shoulders. I wanted to hold him. I wanted to feel his strong heartbeat against my chest and listen to him breathe one more time. It didn’t matter that this wasn’t real. I didn’t care that this was now a soft and distorted memory; this was all I had left of him. I had convinced myself weeks ago that if I dreamed of him enough, it would almost be like he wasn’t gone. “I have to. Alchemax is unveiling a new project today and I have to be there.” He leaned in, brushing the tip of his nose against mine. His breath was warm, working as a perfect antagonist for the frigid air of our bedroom. “Please Miguel.” I begged. He cut me off by pressing his lips against mine. The kiss was languid and wet. Our bodies were still naked from the previous night’s activities as he rolled on top of me. “Miguel…” I whispered. “Please don’t leave me.” “I’m not going anywhere.” He said. His lips slipped off of mine as he lowered his face, moving so that his mouth could graze the shell of my ear. There, he whispered the one thing I thought I would never hear again. “I love you…”
Something brushed the side of my face, pulling me from my dream. I jerked upward, searching for what had caused it. But I couldn’t see through the pitch black of the bedroom. In the darkness, I was so sure that I could smell him. He had been dead for months, but his scent still lingered in the walls and all of the soft places in the house. It was to the point that I was terrified of moving or washing anything; if I did, that last piece of him would vanish forever.
Hot tears slid down my face.
I had been crying again. But that had become such a common occurrence that I couldn’t even be surprised. Tears slid down my neck, soaking into the collar of Miguel’s Alchemax t-shirt that had been worn thin. Crying had become an every night thing since the funeral. Maybe if I could understand what the hell even happened to him, then I could be okay. But there had been no information about any of it. I had been told there was an accident at work and that there was nothing that could have been done to save him. But the term accident meant so many different things.
I lifted my hand to my cheek to wipe away the next batch of tears. But, as my fingers brushed my skin, I couldn’t help but notice the distinct warmth on that side of my face.
Had someone been here?
Had the gentle brush been entirely in my head?
I swallowed hard as my eyes searched the darkness. “Miguel?” I asked. But there was no answer. The delusional part of me wanted to hear him stir inside of the bathroom that attached to the bedroom. I slid my hand outward, searching through the sheets that would always remain cold.
The black out curtains that covered my window blocked out any light from the city. The only light in the room was from the small machine that Miguel had set up in the corner. I was never sure what exactly it did, but it always gave off a pale blue glow.
I glanced around the room, seeing that the pictures were all still lying face down on the dresser and bookshelves.
Nothing was different. He was still dead, and I was still alone.
I swallowed hard as I reached for the bottle of sleeping pills that sat on the bedside table. I had gotten them after stepping off one of the curbs in Nueva York without looking. But, before anything could happen, a man had grabbed me, jerking me out of the way seconds before my body had the chance to collide with the car that was racing down the street. Maybe if I hadn’t been so exhausted, then I would have thought before I walked.
The pills were my only chance at getting any rest these days. I unscrewed the top of the bottle, dropped one of the white pills into my hand, and then replaced the white plastic lid. I discarded the bottle onto the nightstand and then popped the pill in my mouth.
I just needed to go to sleep. If I could sleep, then I could see him again.
I leaned back against the sheets, watching the walls of the hallway through the open door of our bedroom. If I hadn’t known better, I could have sworn to God that I saw a faint orange and pink glow dance against the walls before being consumed by darkness.
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No dreams came. My vision was dark, trapping me in a dreamless darkness. The pills always made my body heavy with sleep; it was almost impossible to open my eyes when I was like this. I didn’t see him in my dreams, but I could hear him. His voice was faint, speaking in delicate murmurs.
Fingers brushed against the skin of my face as he pushed several of my curls behind my ears. It was something he had always done, especially when I was sitting on the couch beside him. I had always wondered if he did it so that he could see my face or if it was just his way of getting my attention. But I guess that didn’t matter now.
I flinched at the reminder.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you. I’m here.” Miguel whispered. He pressed a gentle kiss against my forehead. I felt the bed move under me, sinking on the edge as he sat down. “I’m gonna keep you safe.”
“You need to drop this.” A soft female voice said. Her voice was no more than a whisper.
“I can’t do that.” Miguel’s voice was firm; he had already made up his mind.
“Miguel, you’re torturing her. Just leave her alone.” The delicate voice pleaded. Behind my eyelids, I saw pink and honey color light flash. “Give her time. Let her mourn then let her move on. Maybe she could be happy. She could get married and have a good life.”
“Lyla, I’m not sure if you know this, but telling me that my wife is going to fuck someone else and that that’s why I should let her go has the exact opposite effect.”
“Let her be happy.” The girl pleaded.
“She should have died. I’m saving her.”
“Miguel, please let her go. Please, I really-” I heard him click something, making the second voice fall silent.
Warm arms slipped under my legs as I was overwhelmed by the smell of Miguel.
My Miguel.
He smelled faintly of cologne, sweat, and something else. He pulled me into his arms, laying my body against his strong chest. I felt him grab a heavy arm and place it on his shoulder. Beneath my fingers, I felt a weird material cover his skin.
What the hell?
I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn’t force myself out of the dream. The medication weighed me down, anchoring me into this strange haze.
Miguel bounced me in his arms a couple of times. I groaned, feeling him stand up. One of the blankets caught on my foot, tugging on my tired body. Miguel gently tossed the blanket onto the bed, offering a few more gentle bounces to my body as he started to walk.
“You’re going to be so happy.” He whispered. Miguel pressed a second kiss against my skin.
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Blinding light came streaming through the window. I winced, lifting my hand to shield my eyes. I lay there for a moment before a thought occurred to me.
When was the last time I had been awakened by sunlight?
Miguel had always worked such random hours that we had hung thick blackout curtains over the window so that we had a chance at getting some sleep.
“What?” I pushed myself up in the bed, feeling my t-shirt drop down to cover the soft skin of my stomach. But the left side was caught on something, keeping that side of my abdomen exposed. I glanced down to see a thick bracelet that had been attached to my wrist. I pulled the shirt off of the bracelet, allowing it to fall and give me some sense of modesty as I glared at the contraption.
What the hell was this thing?
I glanced around, searching for some idea as to what was going on.
The only clue was a bright orange post-it note that had been pressed onto the bedside table. It was sitting between a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin. Plucking the note off of the table, I quickly began to read it.
‘Please don’t be scared. I’ll be back soon. Take this for your head. It will take a bit to get used to all of this.’ It had been signed with a name that immediately made me shutter.
Miguel.
No. No. No.
Did I die?
Or did I finally go insane?
I pushed myself out of the bed, searching for some clue as to what the hell was going on. This was my bedroom. At least, it looked like it was. The closet was the same, the bookshelves were the same, even the weird off-blue shade that Miguel had picked for the walls was the exact same.
It was then that something caught my eye. All of the pictures were sitting upright. I could see our mutual smiles behind the glass. They were photos of us on dates, photos of us at the weird events that Alchemax held, and even some of the more intimate photos we had taken of us in bed with our bodies barely covered by the thin ocean of sheets.
I stepped forward, moving toward the closet. I jerked one of Miguel’s button-ups off of the hanger and inspected it. The spot where he had spilled wine on the cuff was missing. Instead, the material was bleach white.
This was wrong. This was all wrong.
Everything was familiar, but still foreign somehow. There were sheets that were the same color but didn’t have soft faded patches that had been acquired from stains during love making. There were clothes that I remembered wearing, but they didn’t have the small tears or stains in them. Everything was put together from memory, but it wasn’t my memory.
If I didn’t look too closely at it, it could almost be perfect.
Slowly, I stepped forward. As I moved toward the dresser, I stopped. In my home, my real home, there was a creak in the floorboard. Miguel had spent an entire weekend trying to fix it after we had moved in, but it was all in vain.
Maybe I was just paranoid. That was the only solution.
I leaned backward, then forward again in an attempt to get the floor to creak.
A deafening silence filled the room.
I reached down and pulled at the bracelet. It was heavy on my arm. I slipped my fingers under the band, attempting to pry it off of me. But it was no use. It had been secured at the base, making it impossible to remove.
Then, I did the only thing I could think of.
I ran.
I bolted from the bedroom, moving down the hallway. When I reached the stairs, I took them two by two. Frankly, I was amazed that I didn’t slip and break my neck. But fear is a hell of a motivator. I sprinted through the living room, searching for the front door of our house. I threw open the front door and rushed outside, ignoring the fact that I wore only a thin t-shirt and underwear.
I needed to get the hell out of there; I didn’t care about being modest at this point.
It was Nueva York; the buildings were the same, so was the noise. Sounds of construction, traffic, children playing, and music blasting filled the air. But, I couldn’t help but notice the main thing that was missing: no people or vehicles.
“Hello?” I called.
But I was all alone.
“Hello?” I screamed.
Something grabbed my hand, jerking me backwards. I stumbled but was caught before I could collide with the pavement. Strong arms curled around my waist and hauled me upward. I flailed my arms and kicked out my legs in an attempt to get free, but it was no use. The figure turned around and began to carry me back to the house as if I was nothing more than a doll. “You weren’t supposed to leave the house.”
I knew that voice. It was the one that haunted my dreams and filled my every ‘what-if.’
Miguel.
“What the fuck?” I screamed.
“Stop trying to fight me.” His voice was flat. I glanced behind me to look at him. He wasn’t my Miguel. His eyes flickered somewhere between chocolate brown and blood red. The muscles on his shoulders were more defined and the line between his eyebrows was deeper. But maybe that was because of the dark scowl that he wore as he carried me up the small steps of the brownstone.
When he stepped inside of the house, he threw me onto the hardwood floor. As my head hit the floor, he reached behind him and flipped the deadbolt.
That was to make sure that I didn’t try and escape again.
Miguel wasn’t dressed how I was used to. My Miguel always wore some kind of standard, normal clothes. Nicer clothes for work, soft pants, and sweatshirts at home. But this man, the imposter, wore a red and blue costume that stretched over his hard muscles and accentuated his domineering frame.
“You were supposed to wait. I said I would be back soon.”
“Who the hell are you?” I twisted my body so that I was sitting up on the hardwood floor. I pulled my legs close to my body, attempting to hide my thin underwear from him.
“You’re joking right?” He asked. He stood over me, inspecting me with a look of both confusion and disappointment.
“No, I’m not. And what the hell did you put on my arm?” I shook my wrist, trying to loosen the device.
“Stop trying to take it off. If you do, you’ll die. Unless that’s what you’re hoping for.” He said as he studied me. I froze.
“What?”
“It keeps you alive in this universe. You’re not from here; you don’t belong here, so if you take that off, you’ll glitch until you die.”
I glanced around the room, taking in all of the little imperfections. The room was wrong, reminding me that I was in some kind of strange prison.
“What is all of this?” I asked. Miguel stared at me at if the answer was so obvious.
“It’s our home.”
“No… no, it isn’t.” I said. “What did you do to me?” I pushed myself off of the floor. As I did, I pulled at the bottom of the t-shirt. The man stared at me, his eyes dancing between the terrified look on my face at the pale skin of my naked legs. As his eyes drank me in, I could see them turning to a deeper shade of red.
“Who are you?” I asked. He let out a dark chuckle. As he did, I couldn’t help but notice that sharp white fangs that protruded from his mouth.
“Sweetheart…”
“Don’t call me that.” I said. He rolled his eyes.
“Look, I’ve been very sweet to you. But now you’re starting to piss me off.” His voice was sharper this time. He moved toward me and I stepped back.
“Why do you look like him?” I asked. He knew exactly what I meant.
“Because I am him… in a way.”
“I don’t understand.” I said. He once again tried to fill the distance between the two of us. I stepped backward, feeling my back hit the side of the couch. “You died… he died.”
“In your universe, yes. Please call me Miguel. I know this may be new to you, but I am your husband, just a different version of him. I mean you no harm.” The dull ache from being thrown on the floor said differently. “I did all of this because I love you.”
“You don’t know me.” I said. I slid my hands against the side of the couch in an attempt to find something to cling to. He let out a dry laugh.
“That’s where you’re wrong. I know you in every single universe. I’ve known more versions of you than you can imagine. Versions where you live, versions where you die. So, in a way, I know you better than you even know yourself.”
“If you knew me so well, then you would know Miguel and I never married.”
“Purely semantics. Besides, that’s something that I fully intend on correcting.”
“You’re insane.” I said.
“Don’t fucking call me that. You have no idea how hard I worked to fix everything for you; how hard I worked to make sure that everything would be perfect.”
“Miguel, where the fuck am I?” I demanded. “And I don’t want you to keep saying I’m home. This isn’t my home. Where am I?”
“You could be a little bit more grateful. You should have died.” He said. “You weren’t supposed to be pulled out of the way of a car and you were.”
Anger flashed through me. Just looking at him filled me with a mixture of rage and sadness that mixed together in a sludge that did nothing but make me want scream at him. “I’m supposed to be dead? You’re dead! I went to your funeral! There’s a goddamn sign in the Alchemax lobby for you.” My throat burned and my eyes stung with tears. “Was that all some kind of sick lie?”
“No, your Miguel did die.” His voice was matter of fact- almost cold. It was as if he had said this all a million times before. Hell, for all I knew, he had. Maybe this was some kind of sick game he liked to play. “But, that’s no matter. I’m here now. I made a little pocket universe for you; where you can live and where you being here won’t affect anything. You can stay here with me, and things will be exactly as they should be.” I glanced at the locked door behind him. “You being here won’t affect any other universe and it keeps you out of your own, making sure that all of the canon events happen exactly as they should. The canon is safe and you get to live. Two birds, one stone.” He was so proud of himself.
“Do I have a choice in staying with you?”
His face twitched at my question. “I’ve watched you cry for him at night. I’ve heard you scream and beg for him to come back. You wear his clothes and listen to his music and talk to yourself like he’s still there. For God’s sake, I’ve watched you touch yourself to pictures of him. I just assumed you would have had a warmer reception to me.”
“You had no right to spy on me.” I winced, remembering the feeling of my face being touched in my sleep. He had been there, watching me as I mourned. Besides, there was something in the way he emphases a warmer reception. He was hoping I would immediately adore him and drag him into the bedroom to screw until I couldn’t walk straight. He wanted us to immediately slip into some weird little habit where I pretended to be his loving wife. He said I died in other universes. Was I his replacement, just as he hoped to be mine?
Miguel sucked on his teeth before he stepped forward.
Without thinking, I twisted my body around and bolted toward the kitchen. I had no idea where I was even going; I just wanted to be away from him.
I got about five steps away before he reached outward and grabbed me. This time, his hold was harder. His arms crushed themselves against my body as he lifted me upward and began to carry me toward the stairs. This time, he was holding me so tight that I was sure he was going to break my ribs.
“You’re hurting me.” I gasped.
“Then stop trying to leave me.” He said. “You’re not going to get far and you’re just going to end up hurting yourself.”
He carried me up the stairs, his eyes dark red in the dim light. He carried me to the bedroom at the end of the hall. When he reached the room, he looked down at me.
“Say you love me.” It was a second chance. I paused for a moment, trying to find a way to fake sincerity.
He wasn’t my Miguel. He wasn’t my angel who I curled up with on the couch or who insisted on making me listen to old music that nobody but him would ever like. This man didn’t have that gentleness about him; he wasn’t sweet or loving.
“I love you.” I tried. I knew I sounded like I was faking it.
“At least I know you’re a shitty actress.” He muttered. He dropped me on the floor of the bedroom and then stepped outside before I had a chance to make another getaway. He slammed the door shut.
“Miguel, please let me out.”
“Ah, now you want to be nice to me.” He mocked.
“You kidnapped me. I’m sorry if I’m not the person you were hoping for. If you want someone better, just get a different me from some other place. I’m sure the universe is just littered with them.”
“I saved you. Your universe would have collapsed if it weren’t for me. I offered you the chance to live in a different place, where none of that can ever hurt you and you hate me for it. You want to be pissed? Be my guest. But in time, you’ll love me. I know you will. You always do.”
“Yeah, Miguel, it doesn’t feel like you’re giving me a choice in the matter.” I said. “Why can’t you just find another girl? Anyone else?”
“It has to be you. Because it always is, no matter what. Every time, we end up together so I can’t just grab some random person. Besides, there aren’t too many of you who aren’t already with some version of me. Stealing wives from other versions of me just sounds wrong.”
Yeah, that would be the wrong part. Not the whole kidnapping thing. He keeps flipping between lunatic and romantic who is waxing poetic about our deep love. Maybe I would have been charmed if I had actually known this man. Plus, there was something weird about the way he said it. Had he considered it? How did he find widows versus wives?
“Miguel, sweetheart, how about you let me out of here and then we can find some kind of arrangement that we both like?”
He rolled his eyes as he locked the door from the outside. “When you decide to be the version of you that I know and love, then we can talk.”
Bastard.
I kicked the door, but I knew it was useless. He was already walking away from the door. In the distance, I heard his voice as he began to speak to someone else.
“Lyla, I’m a little busy right now.”
“It’s urgent.” She said.
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It was hours before he came back. I didn’t hear him when he was stepping toward the door. I only heard him when he unlocked the door and let out a low sigh.
“I brought you dinner. It’s in the kitchen. I expect you to eat dinner with me tonight.” He said.
“Thank you.” I squeaked out. I hadn’t eaten since the night before. I was starving. Besides, if this was his idea at a peace offering, who was I to reject. He obviously didn’t want to return me to my real home. Maybe I should just get used to this. “I’ll be down in a minute. I want to clean up a little bit.” I said.
“I’ll get everything ready.” He said. With that, I heard him step away from the door of the bedroom. At least he was receptive to me needing a moment, rather than dragging me downstairs to eat right now.
I sighed to myself as I pushed myself off of the bed. I couldn’t just wear a t-shirt and underwear. I already looked like an absolute mess. My face was swollen from crying and my curls had turned into a frizzy mess from being manhandled so many times in the last twenty-four hours.
My best bet was a shower to calm me down and hopefully take away some of the puffy redness around my eyes and nose. I didn’t want him to see that I had sobbed when I was alone; he may have carted me around in my underwear, but I still had my dignity.
There was a small bathroom attached to the room. It was one that I was familiar with. It was exactly like the one at my house; there weren’t any superficial tweaks that he had made. At least, none that I could see upon first inspection.
I quickly showered, scrubbing my body gently as I went. As I slid a loofah along the sides of my body, I winced. Dark bruises were starting to blossom across my ribs from where he had squeezed as he carried me.
Damn it, that hurt!
I winced as I washed my body, careful not to aggravate any new sore spots that I had gotten. I then washed my hair, making sure that it was nice and clean.
Stepping out of the tub, I realized that I hadn’t grabbed a towel. I was sure that he would put them where I always did. After all, that was really the only place for them in the bathroom. I quickly ducked down and pulled open the door to the bathroom cabinet. The towels had been stacked on one side, random trinkets and things he had brought for me rested on the other. I snatched a towel from the pile as I eyed the objects.
They were the usual fair, mixed in with a few oddballs. Tampons, deodorant, razors, women’s shaving cream, a perfume that I wore pretty often, a couple of bottles of hand and body lotion, a toothbrush, toothpaste, an eyelash curler, a new tube of mascara, hair gel, and a dozen or so other hair things. I sighed and quickly added several of the things to the counter. I needed to brush my teeth and do my hair. As I stacked those things on the counter, I couldn’t help but notice that there were more things resting against the very back of the shelf. Against the wall sat two small pink boxes that were still in their clear wrapping from the drugstore. I frowned as I pulled them forward, moving them closer so that I could see them. The first was a new box of pregnancy tests. I shook the box; sure enough, it actually contained what it said it did. Part of me expected the box to be a decoy and to either be empty or filled with something outwardly sinister, like a camera. Why did he buy me pregnancy tests? I flipped the second box over and was greeted by a bulk box of ovulation test strips, meant to check for when I was ovulating. I winced equally at both of the packages. I quickly shoved them back into the cabinet and closed the door.
Part of me wanted to know why those were what he chose to buy me; the other part was scared to know the answer.
I quickly stood up and began to dry off. It was a short time between when I finished showering and when I stepped out into the bedroom, my hair styled with my curls down, my teeth brushed, and my skin dried of any excess water.
Stepping to the closet, I noticed that all of the dresses in the closet were too formal. Most of the clothes that I typically wore were missing. No t-shirts, jeans, or even standard pajamas. Damn it, Miguel. I quickly walked over to the dresser and opened the bottom drawer.
Based on what was there, my best bet was the baby pink nightie that lay on the top of the pile of clothes. It was obviously new; a tag was still attached to the spaghetti strap and frankly, I had never seen it before, so I figured that it was something he had picked out himself.
I pulled the dress on, wincing when it stopped several inches above my knees. I pulled on a pair of underwear and then snagged a grey cardigan from the closet in an attempt to have a chance at being warm.
What I was wearing was closer to lingerie than actual clothing, but that didn’t seem to matter at this point. He had dragged me around twice in my underwear, on top of the fact that he said he had watched me touch myself to him. My face burned at that thought.
Besides, if he was right and we were always together, then none of this would be new to him. But maybe it would make him be nicer to me if he thought I was being nicer to him.
I stepped through the hallway, careful not to lose my footing in the dim light. As I went, I couldn’t help but notice one of the more glaring differences between my universe and this was. The door to the room that rested next to the bedroom wasn’t stained with its dark russet shade. He had painted this door yellow. That was clearly a recent change; the air still smelled heavily of paint. But why the hell had he painted it in the first place? Maybe he was used to it being a different color and was perfecting it to fit his little fantasy.
I made my way downstairs. He was sitting in the small breakfast nook that rested in the kitchen. He had set out the white plates and arranged the food so that I had easy access to everything. As I rounded the corner, he glanced upward. Something stirred in his dark eyes, but he didn’t say anything. Miguel was sitting at the table, pushing around an eggroll with a plastic fork. He had changed out of his standard red and blue spider suit into an old sweatshirt and flannel pajama pants.
Lucky bastard.
He looked tired. He had a dark stain of blood on his left cheek and I was sure that it wasn’t his. I didn’t want to think about whether or not the owner of that blood was still alive, because I knew there was a good chance they weren’t. I watched him for a moment before I stepped away from the table. He frowned, watching me closely. I was sure he was watching to verify that I didn’t make another run for it. I quickly pulled a washcloth out of one of the lower cabinets by the sink and then turned on the faucet. Once the water ran warm, I wet the rag, wrung it out so that it wasn’t dripping, and then I turned off the water.
I stepped back into the small dining area. “Miguel.” I said in an attempt to get his attention. His tired eyes drifted up to meet mine. The eyes that were once a burning red were now a warm brown. They were almost the shade of coffee. He watched me with such an intensity that it made my face turn a dark maroon. I was sure that he noticed, but he didn’t remark on it.
I leaned down slightly, moving so that my standing height could line up with his sitting size. God, he was so damn tall. “Miguel, here. You have blood on your face.” He reached up to take the cloth but was surprised when I gently pressed the warm material to his face. “Just hold still for a second.” I whispered. For a moment, I couldn’t help but wonder if he had changed out of his suit for comfort or if it was just as coated in blood as his face was. The idea made me shudder internally.
I gently wiped away the dried blood, folding the cloth as I went so that I didn’t rub old blood against his face. When I reached the hollow of his cheek, I slipped one hand under his strong jaw and had him tilt his face to the side in an attempt to give me a better angle. He closed his eyes, giving in to the gentle touch.
He was touch starved. I could tell by the way his breathing slowed and the hairs on his arm stood on end. He wasn’t used to being touched; not anymore. Not in any way that offered any kind of tenderness.
“There you go. All clean.” I said. He opened his eyes and he nodded. His eyes then dipped downward toward my dress.
“Nice outfit.”
“It would appear that most of my actual clothing is gone. So, I have plenty of clothing for the bustling city life outside and I have plenty of lingerie, but everything else is a bit sparse.”
A smile pulled at his lips with my comment. Then, he nodded. “I’ll bring you your clothes from your home universe.”
“Thank you.” I said. Miguel leaned forward and grabbed a container of orange chicken.
He had ordered us Chinese food. It was something that I couldn’t help but note was the same as we had had on our first date. I glanced at the label and confirmed that it was the same restaurant and everything. We had eaten there the night we had first met. We had dipped out of a party at Alchemax early. I hadn’t wanted to be there, but my father had worked there for so many years that it almost felt like an obligation. When I had turned to leave too fast, I knocked wine all over Miguel, but he hadn’t seemed to mind.
“Are you okay?” This Miguel asked. I quickly nodded as I was pulled from the distant memory.
“I am. Thank you for dinner.” I pushed a small amount of food onto my plate and then returned the container to the center of the table.
“You need to eat; really eat.” He said. His brown eyes danced over my face as he searched for something in my gaze. He was hoping to find some kind of love there; a familiarity or affection that I could offer him.
“I feel sick.”
“That’s just because you aren’t used to being in a different universe. Consider it like jet lag. You’ll get used to it in a few days.” He noticed when I didn’t move to eat. I stared into space, feeling my previous convictions about being sweet to him begin to slip away. “I could always make you eat.” He said.
“You wouldn’t do that.” I muttered. He let out a low sigh and then returned to his food. He wasn’t going to argue with me. Or maybe I was right; maybe there were some things he wouldn’t be willing to do to me. But he had walked in sporting horror-movie levels of blood on his skin. So, who knows?
“Is there anything that’s bothering you?” He asked. “You can always ask me.”
“Are you going to lock me up in my room again if you don’t like the question?” I asked. He didn’t respond.
Tread lightly, I guess.
“Why do you look different than my Miguel?”
“I’m Spiderman. Your Miguel wasn’t. He was close, but he didn’t quite get there before…” His voice faded off. He was trying to be sensitive to me, in his own fucked up way. Or maybe his own narcissism wouldn’t allow him to talk about his failures, even in a different universe.
“Do all Spidermen look like you?” I asked.
“Are they all so devastatingly handsome? Afraid not, sweetheart. They don’t usually look the same. Hell, they can look like anything. I found one that’s literally a cartoon pig. But appearances aside, they can mostly do the same things: climb walls, shoot webs, the whole lot.”
“Ah.” I said. “Do they all have the…” I tapped my finger to my teeth, motioning for the fangs that protruded anytime he spoke. He shrugged.
“That seems to be a thing entirely unique to me.”
Did I sense a bit of insecurity there?
He furrowed his brow as he turned his attention to the dinner plate. Damn it, now I felt bad.
Why the hell did I feel bad for hurting his feelings? He kidnapped me and had dragged me around like a rag doll. But I couldn’t ignore the guilt that started to brew inside of me.
I sighed as I moved closer to him. Even if he was my captor, I couldn’t help but see him as the man who I still loved. Even if that ended at the physical resemblance. I slid to the edge of my chair and reached my arm out for his face. My fingers slid against the rough stubble of his jaw, tracing the side of his face for a moment. He leaned his head to the side, moving into my touch.
“I’m sorry.” I whispered. He nodded, lifting a hand upward. He laid his fingers on top of mine, holding my hand there against his skin. God, he was burning up. Did he always feel like this? Maybe he was actually sick. My Miguel never ran this warm. Or maybe it was just a side-effect of the spider bite. I didn’t understand any of that well enough to question it and I sure as hell wasn’t going to ask about it.
Suddenly, something clattered to the ground in the kitchen, making me jump. I pulled my hand back from his face, feeling the reality of the situation settle in. I slid my hand back into my lap, watching as his eyes lingered on for entirely too long. His brown eyes swam with a deep want. He wanted me to keep touching him.
Maybe sleeping with him would knock him out of this lovesick spell. Or maybe it would only make it worse. He stared at me, moony eyed and desperate. He was Miguel, even if he wasn’t my version of him. Maybe he could genuinely love me, even if only in his own fucked up way.
“If you loved him so deeply, do you think you could ever love me the same way?” He asked.
“Miguel…” I said. His face twitched slightly. I couldn’t say no; maybe I could, eventually. Or maybe he would become crueler, and I would hate him every second of my life. I didn’t know what to tell him. He leaned back in his chair, his face twisting in an attempt to conceal a deep pain.
Change the conversation quick. Change it before the night could descend in chaos with either us screaming at one another or him locking me in the room again. Or maybe he would just send me back to my own universe to die. After all, if he couldn’t get what he wanted from me, then there was no use in keeping me here.
He made a low noise and then returned to eating, never saying anything about how I had dismissed him.
“Why did you paint the door in the hallway?” I asked. He paused, trying to think up an answer. Then, he swallowed his dinner and shook his head.
“Just decided that it looked better that way.”
“But why? What was wrong with the original color?”
“Does it really bother you that much that I changed one thing?” He asked. His voice had an edge to it now. I clearly was not supposed to ask about the door. But why? It was just a damn door.
“No, but it’s weird that that is the one thing you decided to change. I figured that there was probably a reason.” He rolled his eyes as he took another big bite of food.
“Can’t you just be happy? Most people would overjoyed if they had the opportunity that you do.”
“Yes, I’m quite sure that most people would just love to be stolen from their bed by their boyfriend’s psycho twin. Frankly, that’s every woman’s dream.” My voice was dripping with so much sarcasm that he rolled his eyes. “How long are you planning on keeping this up? This isn’t the Truman Show. You can’t just keep me locked up here for the rest of my life so that you can get your kicks spying on me. And I’m not going to act out some fifties sitcom for you.”
“You don’t have to. I just want you to be… you. Or, as close to it as possible.” He said. As close to me as possible… the words rattled around in my head for a moment.
“You want me to be her.” His face twitched. “I lost him and you lost someone who looks exactly like me.”
Dear God, that was exactly it. All of my suspicions were correct. I was supposed to play house with him, while pretending to be a very specific version of myself that he had once loved. I had to be the perfect version of his wife; the one who doted on and loved him, or else this was all for nothing.
“Have you ever read The Great Gatsby?” I asked. He stared at me, his gaze littered with something.
“Tread lightly, sweetheart.”
“The book is about a man who tries to relive his past. He is so sure that repeating everything and making little adjustments will fix his world.” I swallowed hard, trying to make sure he understood what I was saying. I wasn’t his toy; I wasn’t meant to be wound up to perform for him. “Miguel, you can’t fix things by redoing them. People die. You have to let them go. If your wife died, you need to let her go.”
“I don’t hear you saying that about him.” He sneered.
“That’s because I didn’t kidnap you. I was willing to let you… to let him go.” All of the terms were confusing. This man looked like my Miguel, but he wasn’t. He was a different version of him, which I guess could also make him him, just a different kind. God, I was confusing myself.
“That’s bullshit. I know you want him back. I can see it in your eyes. I can see it in the way you look at me.”
“I think what you’re seeing is a mixture of fear and your own reflection.”
“You love me.” He said.
“I don’t know you, Miguel. I don’t know who you are. I know who you look like, but that doesn’t really help your situation.” I paused for a long moment. “How did she die?” I asked. He shook his head.
“That’s none of your fucking business.” He snapped. I flinched at his words.
“I have the right to know how she died.”
“No, you don’t. You don’t even know how your own husband died and you think you have the right to pry into my life.” With that, he pushed himself up from the table.
He tossed the plate into the sink and it shattered against the metal of the basin. I heard him swear in Spanish under his breath. He was pissed but he hadn’t meant to do that. Maybe that was just an every day occurrence with spider strength.
He began to head to the archway that separated the kitchen from the rest of the house. As he stepped, I heard him swearing under his breath. I also heard my name several times.
“Miguel, where are you going?” I asked.
“You hate me so much, maybe it would be better if I wasn’t around.”
“Miguel, where are you going?” I repeated. He muttered more words under his breath. I watched as he pushed several buttons on the sides of his wrist device. He flipped a top piece on the metal bracelet.
“Lyla-“ he started.
“What are you doing?” I asked. I pushed myself up from the table, following him as he left the kitchen. He didn’t reply. I rounded the corner, following as he stepped into the living room. Upon entering, I was nearly blinded by a massive orange and pink hole that swirled and twisted in the center of the room. With every step he took, he drifted closer to it.
So, that was how he managed to leave and then come back. If what he wore on his wrist was capable of doing it, I wondered if mine was, too. No, surely not. The intent was to keep me here; giving me an opportunity to escape would defeat the entire purpose. He said that if I took it off, I would die. I had no choice but to believe him on that front.
“Miguel.” Still no answer. “Where are you going?” He stepped toward the portal without a sound.
“Miguel, where the hell are you going?” I repeated.
He rolled his eyes as he glanced down at the device on his wrist.
“If you leave, what the hell am I supposed to do? There aren’t any people outside. I’m going to have to guess that all of the buildings are empty. Are you coming back? Am I going to starve to death? What if I get hurt? What if I fall down the stairs and die? When the hell are you coming back? How am I supposed to contact you?” The words fell out of my mouth so fast that I didn’t have the chance to consider if these were stupid questions.
“That’s what you’re worried about?” He scoffed. But he didn’t offer me any kind of actual answer.  
“Miguel, you said you were my husband. You can’t just abandon me.” He flinched, but he still did not turn around. “Please…” I begged. If he left, I was stranded. At least with him here, I was guaranteed human contact and sustenance.
“Miguel, I need you.” I said. As the words left my mouth, I did the only thing I could think of to get his attention. I slid my hand up to the cardigan and quickly slipped it off of my shoulders. He didn’t seem to notice or care when it dropped to the ground below me. I then reached upward and grabbed onto the thin spaghetti straps of the pink nightgown. Without hesitation, I pulled them over either shoulder, allowing the gown to slide entirely off my body and pool onto the floor at my feet.
“Miguel.” I repeated. This time, my voice was no louder than a whisper. That was enough to get his attention. Or maybe he had heard the dress gather on the floor at my feet. I swallowed hard, feeling the cold bite at my bare skin. I was standing almost naked in the middle of the living room, wearing only a thin pair of underwear that offered very little coverage.
Miguel glanced backward. His eyes caught expanse of my bare skin and I swore I saw him smile.
“Don’t leave.” I said. I lifted my hands and crossed my arms. It was a force of habit. I felt so exposed like this. Though, I quickly lowered my hands, knowing that getting his attention was my best chance at him staying.
He turned around to face me. “Please say something, Miguel.” I whispered. The longer I went without a reaction, the more I started to feel like an idiot for this. Maybe I had just made myself look stupid in front of him. Or, better yet, maybe this was something his wife wouldn’t have done; maybe this would make him send me back home to die.
He slunk forward, a predator approaching prey. I saw the portal swirl into a smaller and smaller hole in the universe. Then, it closed, leaving us alone in the dim light of the living room.
Miguel moved so that he was only a few inches in front of me. The material of his shirt grazed my naked skin, making me wince. The shirt was too rough against my goosebump littered flesh. He stared down at me. As he did, his eyes turned from warm brown to a deep red again.
His palm drifted up to cup my cheek. His skin burned to the touch. I swallowed hard, feeling his fingers stroke the side of my face. It was almost as if he was petting me; like I was a toy for him to play with. He leaned down. His lips grazed the shell of my ear as he whispered, “Let me know if I hurt you.”
“Huh?” He pressed his mouth against mine, hard. His lips were warm as he began to work them, moving them so that they forced my mouth open. I moaned, overwhelmed by it all. As his lips slid against mine, I was sure that I would be bruised tomorrow.
A fang brushed my bottom lip, making me gasp. “Gentle, Miguel.” I whispered.
“Sorry.” His warm breath covered my face. He smelled intoxicating. He straightened his stance, moving away from me. When he pulled away, I let out an audible whimper.
God, please tell me I didn’t genuinely want him. I swallowed hard, feeling myself getting slick between my thighs. I was sure that if he looked, he would see a spot forming in my underwear.
I wanted to hold him. I tried to grab his shoulders, but our heights were too off. He was too tall for me to grab hold of. I pushed myself onto my tippy toes, but even that wasn’t enough. I was still too short for him. Miguel noticed this and leaned downward, allowing me to curl my arms around his strong shoulders.
“That’s my girl.” He slipped his hands down and curled his fingers around my bare thighs. He jerked my body upward. I curled my legs around his hips. He was already getting hard, causing his pajama bottoms to strain.
Miguel stepped forward, carrying me up the stairs. I knew where we were going: the bedroom. I pressed a gentle kiss against his cheek. Even in the dark, I could tell he smiled.
He was getting exactly what he had wanted. But I couldn’t bring myself to make it all stop. I wanted him. I had craved him for so long and here he was. He wasn’t my Miguel, but maybe he wouldn’t die. He was stronger than my Miguel. Maybe that would allow him to stick around.
He twisted the door handle, leaving deep dents in the shape of his fingers in the cold metal. He was trying his hardest to be gentle with me, but I knew it was a battle he would most likely lose.
He tossed me on the bed, throwing me just a tad too hard. I landed on the opposite side of the mattress, groaning as my head almost collided with the wooden headboard. “Miguel.”
“I know, I know.” He teased. He flipped his hand over, shooting a fine web that caught my ankle. “Come here, sweetheart.” He rolled the webbing around his fingers, pulling it tight. I gasped, feeling my body sliding across the sheets. He dragged me down to the edge of the bed.
“Miguel!” I squealed. He smirked as he pressed his knees into the bed, pulling me so that I was only a few inches away from him. He pulled the web off my skin, making sure that it didn’t hurt me.
“Do you do that a lot?” I asked.
“As often as you, sweetheart. Next time, I can web you to the headboard.” My face flashed bright red. He chuckled.
Miguel reached down and grabbed the bottom of his sweatshirt. He hauled it upward, pulling it over his head before discarding it on the floor. Taut muscles danced under his skin. Every inch of him was bound in hard muscle, covered in perfect skin.
He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against my knee. His fingers wandered up my thighs, feeling my bare skin. He pushed his other hand into the mattress.
“Miguel, please.”
“Please what?” He asked. I took his free hand in mine and guided it up to my chest. He moaned, offering a soft squeeze.
Miquel scrambled up to my chest. He caught my nipple in his mouth and moaned, licking the sensitive skin as he sucked. His fingers kneaded my other breast, stopping every once in a while to offer the hard peak a gentle pinch.
I brushed my fingers through his dark hair. He smiled against my skin, releasing my nipple from his mouth. “What?” I asked.
“Let me know if I’m too rough with you.” With that he slinked down to the warm skin of my thighs. He traced his lips across the bare skin. As he went, he opened his lips to gently suck and kiss the bare flesh. Every so often I would feel a burst of pain that lasted no longer than a second. He mumbled something against my skin. I pushed myself up onto my elbows, moving so that I could see what he was doing.
Another sharp pain shot through my left thigh as he buried his face in my skin. Miguel glanced upward, feeling my eyes on him. His fangs had nipped my bare skin, making me yelp. “I’ll be more gentle.” His voice was warm and weighted with lust.
He slipped upward and slid his fingers under the waist of my panties. He bit the material with his teeth. I heard him snip the material and rolled my eyes.
“You can’t do that to all of my clothes. I barely have any to begin with.”
“I’ll buy you whatever you want.” He pressed a warm kiss against my bare hip. Then, he moved to the other side. He repeated the same action, slicing through the material using his fangs. He placed a kiss on that side, as well.
“You’re such a showoff.”
“Am not.”
“You could have just pulled them off of me the normal way.” I fought back a laugh.
“I can bench press a city bus. I don’t need to showoff to you. Besides, learn to have some sense of romance.” He threw the remains of the panties onto the floor. He immediately pressed a soft kiss against the mound that had been covered by my underwear.  
He was extremely careful when he shifted downward. But the dull ache on the skin of my thighs where he had bit made me want to make my only request. “Hey, no teeth.”
“Funny, that’s what I always tell you.” He muttered. I rolled my eyes. “Lay back and hush up.”
“You’re so damn bossy.” I shifted on the mattress, spreading my legs wider for him. He placed his hand across my folds and gently spread them to expose my clit. He flicked his tongue across my clit. “Fuck, Miguel.” I lifted my hips off the bed, moving closer to his face.
He started to work, flicking his tongue over my clit as the index finger on his free hand traced my opened. He collected my wetness on his finger, sliding it around to make sure that I was good to go. Then, he slipped in his middle and index finger, sinking in until his knuckles touched my pussy.
I moaned, feeling his tongue work its magic.
Fuck, he was good at this.
He curled his fingers inside of me, brushing my sweet spot. I grabbed the back of his head, feeling his head bob under my palm as he licked.
Then, something occurred to me. He knew every inch of my body because he had fucked me thousands of times in the past. Even if it wasn’t me, it was a girl who was exactly like me. Maybe I was just that predicable. Or maybe he was just that good.
He picked up his speed, lapping between my folds as I curled my fingers in his hair. I was close and he could feel it. He could feel the twitches and miniatures spasms on his tongue as he worked. “Miguel, I’m close!” I whimpered.
He licked faster. Suddenly, pleasure shot through me, filling me with a white-hot heat. I moaned, spasming around his fingers as I came undone.
Miguel whispered something into my thigh as he pushed himself off the bed. Then, he pulled down his pajama bottoms, allowing for his cock to spring upward. It smacked against his lower stomach, heavy and decorated with a dark vein that ran along the underside. He kicked his pants off into the floor and then crawled on top of me.
He pressed a soft kiss on my lips. I could taste myself on his lips.
“This may hurt at first. I won’t move until you’re ready.” He said. He reached down between us. I watched as he grabbed his dick, stroked himself twice, and then lined himself up with my entrance. Without another word, he slid inside, making me gasp. I curled my legs around his hips, pulling him in deep as possible. “That’s my girl.”
I was overwhelmed with a stretching sensation. Arms rested on either side of my head as he stayed in place, waiting for me. After a moment, I leaned forward and kissed him, giving him the go ahead. One hand drifted up to my face. He caressed my cheek and his lips glided against mine.
He drew his hips back, sliding nearly all the way out. Then, thrusted upward, hitting deep inside of me. I gasped into his mouth. “I forgot how tight you are.” He murmured, his words slurring together.
My hands slid down his muscled back as he started to fuck himself into me. All the while, he kept his mouth on mine. I could feel his heart beating against my chest as he worked.
“Miguel…” I moaned, rocking my hips against him. I could feel my lower stomach tightening.
Suddenly, he whispered my name. It was so gentle that it was almost unsettling, considering the circumstances. I glanced up to meet his gaze. But as my eyes met his, he dipped downward. He buried his face in the curve of my neck so that I couldn’t see his eyes.
“Miguel, what’s wrong?”
He rutted his hips upward, burying himself as deep as possible. I gasped, digging my nails into his back. Despite how hard I had sunk them in, they didn’t break the skin. He was indestructible… at least, physically. I slid one hand across the skin of his back, moving to his dark hair. I could have sworn I heard him murmuring something into my neck. I could feel his lips moving against my skin, offering some kind of low prayer. But to who?
“Miguel…” He pulled his hips back again and then quickly slid inside of me again, grinding his hips against me to get a reaction. I gasped, tightening my hold on his hair.
“Say you love me.” His voice was dreamy, and his words slurred from pleasure.
“What?” I asked. It caught me off guard.
“Say it.”
“I love you.” I felt his hips still their movements. He was weighing the authenticity of my words. After a moment, he lifted his head from my neck.
“Say it again.” His eyes peered into mine. He was searching for something in my stare.
“I love you.”
“Good girl.” With that, he continued to beat into me, groaning when I would tense around him.
We were both close. I could tell by the chorus of whimpers and moans that were filling the room. That familiar tightening in my stomach was close to coming entirely undone.
He pivoted his hips, hitting the perfect spot inside of me. Miguel stared down at my features. He wanted something very specific from me before he finished. He ground his hips, making me gasp.
Fucking hell, Miguel.
With that, I felt myself come undone. Pleasure shot through me, making me clamp down on his dick. He grunted, never stopping his movements. “Miguel, I love you!” He groaned at my words. He kept hitting deep inside of me, making sure to grind himself against me every couple of thrusts.
His orgasm overtook him. He groaned my name as he gave one final thrust, hitting deep. I felt his body tense under my hands.
Slowly, we both came down from our highs. We were dragged back to the reality of the bedroom. The day had faded into night, leaving us in darkness.
He had finished inside of me. I could feel a deep warmth inside of my stomach. I also felt a distinct wetness that was hard to ignore. I sighed, relaxing into the mattress. I unhooked my legs, waiting for him to slide out of me. But, instead, he reached behind him and closed my legs again.
“No…” He murmured. Then, he leaned down and pressed a kiss against my lips. In this position, I could feel his heartbeat against my chest. It was so intimate; so loving. Maybe he really did see me as his wife. He pressed another gentle kiss against my mouth. I closed my eyes, giving into the softness of the moment.
“You have to do something for me.” He said. I opened my eyes to look at him.
“Okay.”
“I want you to love me like you loved him. I want you to look at me like I’m your hero and that I’m special.” He inhaled sharply before he reached forward to brush one of my curls off of my forehead. “I want you to care if I die.”
I nodded. What other option was there? I was trapped in his little universe; it’s not like I could ever leave or be with anyone else. Besides, we were still literally connected at the hip.
After what felt like an eternity, he slid out of me. He leaned back on the balls of his feet to inspect me. I immediately closed my legs, though that did little good. He reached forward and grabbed my knees, prying my thighs apart. Warm cum dribbled out of me, coating the naked skin of my upper thighs.
He smirked at his handy work before pushing himself off of the bed. He disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, turning on the faucet and grabbing a towel from the cabinet.
It was then that something occurred to me. “Miguel, I’m not on birth control.” I said. He nodded, acting as if I had just told him about the weather. He stepped out of the bathroom holding a damp washcloth. “Miguel.”
“What, sweetheart?” I stared at him, feeling my mind begin to race. He climbed onto the bed, moving to where I was laying. He sat down between my thighs and gently began to clean the remains of him off of my skin.
“You didn’t… you didn’t use a condom and I’m not on birth control.” I said. I could feel my heart beginning to race. Why wasn’t this bothering him in the same way?
“You’re my wife.” He said as he wiped my skin.
“Miguel.” I repeated. I wanted him to react.
“What are you wanting me to say?”
“Anything.” I said. I wanted some kind of actual reaction.
“Things are exactly as they need to be. Whatever happens, happens.”
“That’s not an answer.” I said.
“Maybe you need to learn to be happy with what you’re already working with.” He finished cleaning me up and then walked to the bathroom. He had made sure to only clean the skin outside of my body. He didn’t try to remove any of the fluid inside of me, despite how much there was.
He came back to the bed and quickly climbed in. “You should get some sleep.” He said. I stared at him, searching for some idea about what he was thinking. He offered a soft smile in return.
Was he fucking with me?
Did he really love me or was he just using me as a quick screw?
Did he actually want me to be his wife… or was this some fucked up mind game of his?
He leaned back against the pillows and then lifted his hand. He curled a finger toward him, motioning for me to come. “I’m not a dog.” I muttered.
“Then be a good girl and do as I ask.” He reached forward and gently grabbed my body. He slid me closer to him, moving me so that my head lay against his bare chest.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“Afraid so.” He said. He placed one hand on my shoulder and the other on my side. He slid his fingers up and down either side of my body, taking in every soft dip and curve. Every so often he would lean down and kiss the top of my head.
I couldn’t help but notice the way that his fingers traced over my lower stomach. He looked wistful as he traced the soft skin. I squirmed, feeling insecure.
“Stop wiggling and get some sleep.”
“Then stop feeling me up.”
“I’m not feeling you up. I’m trying to be nice to you.” He murmured against the top of my head. He pressed another kiss against my hair.
“You’re an ass.” I muttered. I rolled his eyes as he continued to pet my bare skin. His heartbeat played in my ear.
As I began to drift off to sleep, I felt him begin to play with my frizzed curls. He would coil a stand of hair around his finger and then let it go, satisfied with the soft curl that had formed.
It was something that my Miguel liked to do, as well.
Maybe they weren’t all that different.
I heard his strong heartbeat against my ear as I faded away from the room.
Before I fell asleep, Miguel pressed a gentle kiss against my forehead. “Please don’t leave me.” He whispered.
I love you...
3K notes · View notes
woso-dreamzzz · 26 days
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Captain II
Hardersson x Daughter!Reader
Fridolina Rolfö x Hardersson!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: You come home after being announced as captain
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In true Magda fashion, everyone in her contact list gets a call. A quick 'did you hear my kid's Sweden Captain?' call where she ends it before the other person can reply.
You get a text and several missed calls that you just ignore until you're free to go to your mothers' house. It was a slip that had you forgetting to tell them that you were Sweden's new captain.
There wasn't much time between your discussion with Emma and walking out to the press conference.
The best you could have given them was a text in warning but, judging by the messages your Morsa sent and all the uncharacteristic emojis she sent with it, you assumed she was happy.
You also assumed that you wouldn't be yelled at for not giving them a heads up.
You pull up at their house and sigh.
Frido's car is also in the driveway and you roll your eyes.
You don't want to think about how many traffic laws she broke to get here before you.
You unlock the front door, unbothered with using the bell, and slip inside.
The low hum of the tv is apparent as you slide off your shoes and hang up your coat. Frido's definitely in the house because you have to put your shoes next to hers and her bag is sitting on the stairs.
You're not entirely sure why she keeps bringing a bag when all her clothes are in the spare room but you don't dwell on it long before making your way into the living room.
Momma is sitting on the sofa, watching the last five minutes of a random show before what she actually wants to watch comes on.
"Your Morsa and moster are in the garden," She tells you," Calling everyone they know to brag."
"Are you angry I didn't tell you? Are they?"
"I'm not angry and those two are much too smug to be angry as well."
You smile and sit next to Pernille, one of her arms being thrown over your shoulder comfortably.
"At least tell me you told Natalia at least. She's not got access to you while on camp like we do."
"I told Talia," You reply.
In fact, Talia was the first and only person you told before the press conference. She'd congratulated you with a laugh before teasing and saying to take it in while you could because she would be gunning for the Spanish captaincy next.
She'd get it eventually, you knew that. It was only a matter of time but, still, you were the only national captain in the relationship at the moment and you just knew she'd have something to say about it when you finally reunited.
"Good girl," Pernille says," I'd hate for her to suddenly appear at the house unexpectedly. You know what your Morsa gets like."
In sync, you both lean forward to peer out of the windows leading to the garden.
Magda's still on the phone, waving her hand around excitedly as her mouth moves quickly before she drops the call only to immediately make a new one.
Frido's also pacing around the garden doing the exact same thing and you can't help but roll your eyes at both of them.
Magda catches your eyes and instantly makes her way back inside.
"Look at you!" She cries, bursting into the room," My little captain! Look at you!"
You're pulled away from Pernille and crushed into a hug as Magda all but sobs into your hair.
"I remember the first time you wore the armband! So small! You couldn't even walk yet! It kept slipping off! Now look at you!"
"Morsa," You groan, trying to escape from her suffocating hug," Let go!"
"My baby!" She's definitely crying now. "Carrying Sweden to greatness!"
(One day, you do lead Sweden to greatness. One day, you make your mark as one of Sweden's captains. One day, you pass off the armband to a young player you saw greatness in like your captain did for you.)
"Come on," You complain," Let go!"
You're released, only to be forced right back into another hug, from your moster Frido now.
Her hugs is just as suffocating as Magda's. She rocks side to side with you as you struggle to get away.
She speaks to Magda over your head. "Do you think I can borrow your old armband? I can't just wear her shirt to matches anymore. Got to complete the look."
"Please don't," You beg but she ignores you.
"Er..." Magda says," I'm not sure actually. I'll have a look-"
"It's on the bedside table," Pernille cuts in," Magda insisted on wearing it last night when we-"
"Gross!" You complain," Please don't talk about your sex life. You know I wear the armband now. Please don't make me think about you guys having sex every time I wear it."
You peak your head over Frido's shoulder to look at your mothers.
Magda shrugs. "A healthy sex life-"
"Stop!" You clamp your hands over your ears. "Stop talking or I'll go straight back to camp. Stop talking!"
Magda waves a hand dismissively. "You'll find out what I mean as soon as you see Natalia again."
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kiss-me-muchoo · 7 months
Text
𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 || 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠!𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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part one: I knew you were trouble // part two: would’ve could’ve should’ve
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_The Capitol's Dream girl was depressed. After Snow broke her heart and returned only to haunt her. It only takes an official marriage proposal on New Year's Day, an interview with Lucky Flickerman and a rebel bombing to completely break you, and make Snow realize there's a place for one last person to love for the rest of his life.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ 10k words fic ups, reader is depressed, blood, violence, angst, tears, drama, reader makes some cruel things, antidepressants, nothing wild but they have sex so mdni 18+ , Snow actually loves reader (well idk). I couldn't add anything about the games of Mags SORRY.
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞_main song for this is Would've Could've Should've, song added to my Coryo Copito's playlist. Also, listen to the 1 and memory lane!!!
♪ ♫ Coryo playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)
____________________________________
Nights were longer now. You couldn't sleep. Nightmares of the games, how you contributed. The vivid image of the first time you saw Clemensia after the snake bite. Your mind made you recreate Sejanus being hanged in District 12. And finally, your mind also made you replay every moment you had with Coriolanus Snow since you met him at 17.
You wished you never asked to sit with him at lunch. You wished you never asked to see him again.
He would've been just another classmate. If the things that happened in the 10th Hunger Games were meant to be, at least you wouldn't have been involved.
It wouldn't have hurt you enough to feel so miserable in the present.
But this was as good as it was going to get.
You weren't the best driver, but since very few people had a car, you dared to take the one your chauffeur was meant to. It distracts you from staring at the window and overthinking.
Sometimes you wonder how it would've turned out if Snow won the prize without being a mentor, just like it was planned to happen. Would you have made a stop at his place? For him to get inside your car and kiss you good morning. Then drive to the University of the Capitol? Could've been fun.
But you made your way alone. Only listening to the music that played on the radio.
And you wondered what would've happened if Arachne was alive, Sejanus too, and Clemensia was fine to take classes in person. Would they have made fun of you and Snow entering University holding hands? Could've been sweet.
But again, you were alone. It's a cloudy day at The Capitol. Your long emerald green coat gets stuck with the car door. You roll your eyes, opening the damn door once again to set free the piece of fabric.
You started wearing high heels. It made you look taller and you loved the sound every time you stepped out of your home. Your mother had launched a new collection, and she loved seeing you wearing her creations.
For the record, you haven't seen Coriolanus Snow since the day you had your first counselor appointment. That was a month ago, and it was… great.
Actually, it wasn't, but yeah…
A lot of people greeted you, but none were your friends. You see, the University isn't very different compared to the Academy. The same architecture, and familiar faces that no longer wear the red uniform. And even so, you feel like a fish out of water.
Life isn't perfect. But you weren't ready to start your young adult days feeling so out of breath.
"Y/n!…" you turn to encounter Persephone. A sweet girl from the Academy.
"Persephone. Hi…" You do your best to smile. She was a classmate from the Academy. And she never was your friend but you always thought she was so sweet.
"How have you been? You're all over the news" For the first time in weeks you giggle, feeling a little blushed. The feeling of someone asking you how you were doing felt so good.
"I've had better days. But here we are… And you?" She tilts her head.
"I visited my grandma's lake house in District 4. It was so good. I heard you're in the science and law program" you nod. You also knew Persephone was on the law program.
"Yeah, you're in law too…."
"Is Coriolanus going to be there too?" You stop smiling.
In fact, you weren't sure. But probably he would also be in law. Tigris once said he wanted to pursue politics.
"I'm not sure… We-…we don't talk anymore" she gasped in shock.
"What? Oh, I'm so sorry. I thought you were…"
"No. But it's fine. He must be doing great…" you cut her off before she can ask more questions.
Your first class was okay. Until Snow walked in, wearing a perfect dark blue suit. His silly hair looked slightly longer than the last time you saw him, but still, nothing compared to his messy hair from months ago. You pretend you didn't see him, opting to keep writing something in your journal. But he had to stop beside you. There are some minutes of silence, but nothing would make you turn to knowledge of his presence.
"Can I sit with you?" His voice is colder again. You can notice through a little glimpse of a white rose decorating his suit. But you keep your eyes set on the page in front of you.
And you know you won't fail again.
"No."
He can feel the venom in your voice.
"I'm sitting here." He says after all.
You really don't have time to tear up on the first day of University. You want to stand up and leave, but you're so mature that you won't say anything else.
At least, for the rest of the class, he doesn't say anything else, but you know he occasionally turns to see you.
"Is it gonna be like this forever?" He asks when it's over. You dare to see him in the eyes, enchanting blue as always. But the young man in front of you isn't the boy you met. And yet, he still made your heart beat like he was the same who was once your lover.
"I don't have time for this. Have a nice day, Snow'' he looks as you leave the classroom. His hands shook, and that feeling of guilt assaulted him once again. You are the proof alive of all the pain he caused. So he needs to have you back on his side, so he can feel some humanity remaining in him after all the things he did months ago. Because he knows there's no good left on him, but he can't get rid of you like he did with Sejanus, Highbottom… and Lucy Gray.
You were meant for him. But he was so infatuated with the other girl. And Snow was aware that you deserve the best. You were his ally since day one. So having you by his side again… would seal his imaginary pact.
He looks at you and sees the girl that gave him the chance of his life. He promised his grandma'am you would be the girl he would give a home and a family.
But now, every time he asked Tigris how you were, she avoided giving details. grandma'am was growing suspicious that things weren't going great. Tigris had been a lot of times on your house and mother's shows. Your father would ask for Coriolanus but he didn't know all the things the young man did to his daughter.
So Tigris would say he was still serving as a peacekeeper. And you, you would say you haven't talked a lot with him.
Not anymore. Coriolanus would try every day. As he denied he loved you, he pretended he needed you as you were the one. Just that.
"Y/n y/l/n." Suddenly a peacekeeper comes to you.
"Yes?" You ask politely.
"Dr. Gaul demands your presence in her laboratory" you sigh. Of course, she would be the first to ask to see you.
It was the same laboratory. Only that now was near. The way to get there was slow, even peaceful. Maybe because the day was almost over.
The first thing you notice is how many empty water tanks are scattered.
"There you are, Ms. Y/l/n" she appears from the crystal stairs at the end of the room. Wearing a yellow set that made her eyes more bright. Her hair is the same. Looking as evil and cynic as always.
"Dr. Gaul" you greet. Stopping some feet away from her.
"A school new year means new planning ahead" You nod. Already hearing what she was about to say. Well, not entirely.
"The last games were a mess. Between the rebels and Mr. Snow's bright decisions. Our central ideas couldn't be fulfilled. However, I decided to give him another chance, there's so much potential in that boy" You don't know how to feel about that. So you just remain quiet.
"Speaking of the devil…" when you turned back, Snow was walking towards you and the woman near you. Immediately you avoided his eyes, knowing he was probably looking at your dress. The coat was long gone, leaving a soft and accentuating pink dress with long sleeves.
He knew it was inappropriate. But ever since he gained your trust and his feelings of attachment to you, he had a long time to accept he had a thing for your hips. The dress was extremely simple but looked elegant with some bright exotic earrings, and it was your body that created the most attractive shape he'd ever seen.
And soon, his view of you became sided.
"I believe I don't need to remind you of your actions from the last games, Mr. Snow," the woman said.
"It won't happen again." He answered with confidence.
"I know it won't happen again," Gaul says laughing. Making you wonder how much time she had been trying to get into the position she was now.
"This year, let's say you'll be under probation, Mr.Snow. On the other hand, Ms. y/l/n. Another year and another success from you" his eyes were on you again. Turned to his left without shame. And that's when Snow remembered since he came back from District 12 how smart you were. Without saying anything, even avoiding it, you knew he had cheated on the games. And probably, without talking to him anymore, you knew he wasn't a good man.
Only that…slowly, you were also turning into a bad woman.
"Those water creatures are fully developed. They're nothing compared to the snakes from last year. This new invention has marked a new era for us…" To be honest, you don't know how to feel about it. Everything related to the games made you remember your dear friend Sejanus Plinth. He would've hated this creation from you. But on the bright side, this was your future. These were the constant obstacles you would have if you were to achieve success.
"Dr. Gaul. An emergency message has been sent to y/n y/l/n" Immediately you turned confused looking at a new peacekeeper. When you look at your mentor, she nods, indicating to you that you're allowed to leave.
"Excuse me." As you walk away, another peacekeeper has a cable phone. One of the newest wireless ones. Red and shiny, silently beeping. You can hear Snow asking Dr. Gaul something, but the sound of your heels is loud enough to make it difficult to understand as you reach the phone
The peacekeeper hands the cable phone. You pick up, feeling your heart pounding.
"Hello?" The low breathing of your mother can be heard.
"Darling! Something bad happened…"
"What?" You ask. And you don't know but Snow is trying so hard to listen to your conversation.
"Our mines in District 12. Your father made a little trip there with some friends. The people caused a revolt. They bombed the mines." You frown, in shock. Already feeling anger building up in your chest.
"Is pa' okay?" She sighs, which stresses you more.
"Some burns. The peacekeepers saved him on time" Snow listens to Gaul but he literally has an ear on you and the other in the mentor.
"Is it too bad? Like… putting our wealth in danger?" You whisper the last sentence. Your mother is a proud woman. But in the privacy of her family, she allowed herself to be vulnerable.
"I don't know, darling. We still have the mines in District 1. But the ones on the 12 represented greater materials" There's no time to cry and you know it.
So after some soothing words to your mother, you hang up. And you're not thinking clearly. You just know you're angry, and convinced someone had to pay. If you started disliking District 12 after the last games, now it was getting personal.
When you go back to stand beside Snow. You hear Gaul explaining to him how most of the lessons would go. But as soon as she turns back to you, there's an idea that leaves your mouth before you can breathe or blink.
"I was about to say that we should change the arena of the games. Each year it should change, like the seasons. Wasting the opportunity to use the water mutts sounds like a waste of potential for the views. If we still want a spectacle like the one from last year." The woman analyses your words. And after some seconds of silence, she speaks.
At the same time, Snow can't comprehend how poisonous you sound. He knew the call enraged you, it must've been bad.
"Then I'll ask you to find some suggestions for the arena"
"And… I have some ideas for this year Reaping" the woman's evil smile grows. She knows she's turning two young adults into monsters.
"I can't wait till Summer of next year" Gaul giggles, then lets you go, commenting that the next day the actual lessons would begin.
You sigh once she leaves. Finally acknowledging what you just did. Dooming a bunch of kids to fight for their lives with those water monsters. You remember Sejanus. The way he screamed in anger when his tribute was punished for trying to escape.
You're also a monster.
Snow turns to your side, looking as if you have just been cut with something, and he's searching for the wound.
"Are you okay? What happened?" he asks worriedly, caressing your forearm.
"Your beloved district 12. That's what happened." You spit with venom, squirming away from him.
Your harshness takes all over the place as you move away from him.
It's New Year's Day. A bright morning, and you already have your first guest. Clemensia Dovecote.
She still wears turtlenecks. But the gloves are gone. You can't stop smiling after seeing her smile and laugh as she drinks tea on your patio.
"I can't believe it worked, y/n," she says changing the subject. The first dose you gave her was after the games, in late summer. And now, at the peak of winter, Clemensia looked amazing. The cracked and raspy yellowish skin she had, the bright yellow eyes that contrasted her dark brown irises, all of that was mostly gone.
"To be honest, me neither…" you admit smiling proudly. Her skin looked slightly covered in scales, but the texture was soft. Like a snake that shines with a new layer of skin. Her eyes were still a little yellow, but the white was coming back.
"How did you come up with it? The treatment and everything?" you gulp nervously, sipping at your tea. If you opened your mouth, there would be no turning back.
Clemmie knew Snow had cheated, she swore to keep quiet about it. She knew about his exile. But she didn't know everything.
Then you thought you owed nothing to Snow. He owed you a lot, and yet, the way he paid was… cruel.
The only thing you were not in your right to share was about… the boy he killed. And as you'd never know he killed many more, Clemmie wouldn't either.
"He chose her. The songbird" Clemensia's eyes widened, she left the cookie she was about to eat.
"No…" you nod, confirming your words.
"Yes. During the games… he sacrificed everything for her. When I confronted him, he said nothing. After he was exiled, he committed a bribe to ensure his service as a peacekeeper on the 12" you spit with hate. The pride you carried each day, had a big crack thanks to that man, and like broken porcelain, it would never be healed.
"But he only had eyes for you… The Christmas after you arrived here, I asked him out and he said he had eyes on someone else. I can't believe him…" you giggle, rolling your eyes.
"He only had eyes for my money and father's position. He had the chance to win the prize and got obsessed with winning something by himself. The girl was just the cherry on top" You quickly added more as you were about to reveal he was… poor. Not because of him, but for Tigris and her grandmother. Tigris would lose her job and your mother would likely turn her down. So no, you weren't as bad as Snow yet.
"After he left. I realized how much he traced the scar on my face. I simply started hating it. And sooner I dreamed I had it gone. So I thought… Why can't I make something for my dear Clemensia and myself at the same time?" The black haired inspected your face.
"Your scar…" she remembered your face back then. The long pink line across your face. Clemensia did once see Snow caressing your face, his thumb traced the line across your nose until it landed on your lips.
Not it was just a memory as your scar. It was gone. Your face is clean, shiny, and perfect. Too bad that just your face was able to get rid of the touch of Snow.
You can't tell her he asked you to marry him. That was embarrassing enough to say it out loud.
"That's now the boy I knew. He had always been a little cold but… he was good. Now… I just can't stand what he did to you. And while I'll thank you for the rest of my life, you helped with my condition. I will ever feel sorry that you came up with it from such pain" Maybe before the bite, Clemmie was a little narcissistic. And her ambition led her to lie and get bitten. But now, she was all about being thankful and seeking peace everywhere.
"It's okay, Clemmie. Even after all, with Sejanus gone, all of what happened last summer… I'm happy that I have you" she smiles, offering you a big hug.
"Yeah, you won't get rid of me next year" She was officially coming back to class at the University after the winter break was over. Now Snow wouldn't be able to sit next to you.
"I won't mind…" Suddenly your mother comes out from one of the many balconies of your house.
"Girls! The stylist is here!" She lets you and Clemmie know.
This year, the annual New Year's Day will be at your house. The patio where you had breakfast and tea with your friend was already decorated with long tables. Porcelain plates are perfectly accommodated with wine velvet bows decorating them.
Clemensia's father talks with you about the revolt in District 12 and the burns he got. After that… more peacekeepers were sent. And slowly… the whole territory was becoming marginalized.
You ignore it, you only have eyes for the dress writing you on the other side.
When you open the door of your room, there it is.
A golden dress. Shinny and full of sequined beats. With metallic gold puffy fabric resting on your lower half back and ending around your wrists. Bare shoulders style.
You feel bad for not asking Tigris to style you, but she was already busy.
"I... I can't believe this…" you gasp, touching the elegant fabric of the dress. Clemmie can't stop saying how beautiful the dress is.
"With red lipstick and burnt pink eyeshadows… it'll look fantastic," the stylist says to your mother, already visualizing the look.
The patio is full of people. Elegant bonfires make everyone warm. Most of the guests look at your dress as you greet them. The last guests were Tigris and her grandmother, you placed them both in a table full of fashion contacts of your mother.
Clemmie is talking with Festus, Persephone, and other classmates.
Everything goes well until you set your eyes on the garden's entrance and you spot Snow entering.
Your eyebrows immediately frown. The night had been peaceful. And ever since winter break started, you haven't heard of him.
Why did he have to come? Was it for his grandmother?. Doesn't matter, you don't want him in your house.
He spots you and knows you just turned angry. You grab him by the arm and pull him away.
"What are you doing here?" You ask annoyed.
"You invited Tigris and Grandma'am" he shrugs.
"Yes. Tigris and Grandma'am. Not Tigris, Grandma'am, and Coriolanus" For the first time in months, you say his name.
"I have to talk to your father," he admits. You are confused, but he won't say anything yet.
"You look lovely tonight" You ignore the praise in his voice. But he genuinely believes you look astronomically beautiful. Snow was trying to act confident, but deep down he was nervous.
And it worsened when your dad interfered.
"Coriolanus. I'm glad you made it on time. Just an hour away till the countdown" you turn to see your father, offering him a glass of champagne. Neither of you should be drinking yet. But the elite of The Capitol was allowed to break the rules a little.
"No, of course I couldn't. I was just saying how gorgeous y/n looks tonight" your father smiles. You knew your father was believing Snow, that he was a gentleman.
"My one and only child. Perfect as always…" your father answers, putting his arm around your shoulders.
"I would like to discuss something with you. In private…" your heart beats faster.
"Be my guest, boy…" he tells him to enter the party. And as they leave you feel nauseous.
There are twenty minutes left till New Year's Day. Your father hasn't come out with Coriolanus yet. You nervously want to chew your nails. But you do your best for Clemmie. It was her first public appearance since the summer.
You had been trained to satisfy The Capitol's expectations since you were a kid. You knew what you could and couldn't do.
But none had prepared you to hide your shock.
"Dear guests. Family and friends. I would like to give an announcement" Your father appears, the sound of the glass capturing everyone's attention.
"With a new year around the corner, changes are too."
It couldn't…
Snow walked through the tables, towards you.
No, no, no, no.
"It is my pleasure to announce the engagement between Coriolanus Snow and my only daughter, y/n"
You swear you can't breathe.
You don't see Clemmie's face of horror. Tigris is highly confused. Grandma'am at the verge of tears.
"For my darling and her fiancé. Whom I wish eternal luck and happiness" your father finishes the toast.
Snow is beside you, he's not happy either. But he is the first one to start acting for the sudden flashes and cheering.
"How couldn't you tell me you wanted to get married, dear?" Your father asks, being the first person to hug you.
Your shock is so big that you don't even remember smiling for the pictures. You don't remember feeling his hand around your shoulders. You don't remember bursting into the house.
Snow follows you. It's empty, everyone is cheering because the countdown is about to start.
He calls your name. But you don't listen. He follows you through the kitchen and living room.
"WHAT?" You explode before being able to go upstairs.
You see his desperate eyes.
"I didn't know your father was going to announce it that way." He notices your face is red from anger.
"Listen to me, Coriolanus Snow. NO MAN will come and take away the pride of the woman I am." You scream in his face. You won't go quiet like the first time.
"YOU WERE NOTHING!. YOU OWE ME YOUR LUCK!" Snow can only fix his eyes on the sequins of your dress. He had never seen you screaming like that. And nobody would hear anyway.
"If this was your way to make me surrender and get me back. You're so wrong. Because you are going to be in debt with me for the rest of your life. Unless you want a rebel wife like it was your beloved Lucy Gray Baird." His eyes widened at your sudden attack. He has to process every word, every disgusted face you are making. He hadn’t thought about the songbird in many days. Hearing her names sent chills to his spine.
"I wanted this to be different. I had to "You hate him. You can't stand seeing him in his perfect grey suit, his perfect hair and eyes. You really hate him.
"YOU HAD NOTHING!. IF YOU WERE GONNA HUMILIATE ME LIKE THAT, YOU HAD TO GET ON YOUR KNEES AND BEG TO MARRY ME!" Whisking away, he grabs your hand, and when you turn, you find him on his knees.
"Please…" you feel he placed the ring in your hand. And it's too much.
You slap him. And then run away to your room.
As you lock the door, you throw the ring. And when tears start streaming down like a waterfall, you hear the first fireworks.
There's a bottle of pills in your vanity. The treatment for your low mood. You only need it once in a day. But you take two hoping it would knock you out and make you forget about the night.
It's officially a new year.
Three weeks later, Lucky Flickerman is interviewing you and Snow in his late-night show. You can't stand how Snow is caressing your hand. The way he slightly giggles and smiles at you, whenever there is a silly question.
You only do this because nobody knows the truth. Just Clemensia and Tigris.
"Sources tell us that it'll be a spring wedding. Is that right, y/n?" The man asks. You sigh, smiling.
'We're not sure yet, Lucky. There are so many details. Especially with my dress. But my man here is patiently waiting" the interviewer laughs, throwing a sarcastic comment about the dress.
"And what about kids? Is a baby on the plans?" Immediately, both of you blush.
"Yes. We want to have kids one day" Snow hurries to answer. You want to laugh.
He would be a terrible father. Some days ago, he was at your house for a family gathering and while he liked seeing you with your baby cousins, he knew he wasn't good with them. He didn't know how to play or make them laugh. But he had to make everyone believe he was a man of family and marriage. Even when both of you were still nineteen.
"Oh. Well, you're still young. There's plenty of time, pair of lovebirds" You make the strength to turn and smile at Snow. He returns you the smile.
And he wants to believe it's an honest reaction from you. He really hates that everything happened this way. He wanted to wait personally and privately ask you to marry him again. Not like this.
"Y/n… How did you know Coriolanus was the one?" It takes you aback. You can't lie. There's a truth.
"When I met him, he made me feel comfortable. He was so sweet and he trusted me. He made it hard for me not to love him. He has these gorgeous ocean eyes, that every time I see him I get lost in them. It reminds me of the kind boy I met some time ago…" Everyone feels emotional. Coriolanus is aware of the real meaning behind your words, and he can't help but honestly smile. He knows he realized it, but he couldn't bring himself to admit it.
"These ladies and gentlemen… is a couple in love!" Lucky laughs and points at you and Snow excited. And he says that he'll be back with the broadcast for the weather, he thanks you and your fiancé for being there.
"Take care, guys. Don't forget to invite me to the wedding!, I'll get some people inside to bring the news anyways…"
And finally, both of you are behind the set. You don't even glance at Snow. But he hurries to stop you, interfering in your way.
"I'm sorry. For everything…" you cross your arms.
"No. You hate me. That's why you keep doing this to me…"
Your assistant appears handing you a glass of water and a little plate of something Snow can't see.
"Here's some water and your antidepressants, miss" You blush and ignore the way your fiancé is looking.
As you walk away, Coriolanus only feels worse.
You stare at the public library. Now closed just for your wedding happening in a couple of hours.
There are white roses everywhere. Petition of your mother to commemorate Snow and his family. You hated it.
It ended up being a spring wedding. But a very cold one. By early June, summer would start. And for now, snowflakes still fell upon The Capitol.
"The dress is ready…" Tigris says, appearing on your side. She sees how you stare at the whole place with dismay.
"How could this happen?" She asks, wondering.
"My younger self would've loved this day. But now… is different" You didn't want to insult her cousin.
"His younger self would've also loved this" Tigris remembered how enchanted was Coriolanus for you. Saying that he made a rich friend who was so sweet. Soon he admitted you were gorgeous and delicate. Now forgetting to mention you only when Grandma'am asked.
"He's trying to get you back," Tigris adds. And you question it.
Ever since the engagement. He always reached for you. Asking how you were. The kisses on the cheek to greet you. Felt honest. But you doubted you would ever forgive him. Even if you ended up having his children someday…
"I know it won't change anything. But I'm sorry. You didn't deserve this…" the young woman lamented. After you confessed most of the things Snow did to you, she added that to her list. And slowly, Tigris had slightly brushed aside her cousin.
"I didn't. But what's pissing me off is the wedding night" Tigris coughed awkwardly. And you rolled your eyes.
"No, Tigris. It's not about the sex. It's about me having to leave my house forever. I refuse…" She relaxed.
Honestly, you hadn't thought about sex. You knew it would happen anytime after marrying. But you wouldn't give Snow the satisfaction to even give hints.
At least, your father suggested Snow temporarily move in with you in your room since his new penthouse would be only for Tigris and grandmother. He would sleep in your tub.
"It's a great place for a honeymoon. Capitol's north is full of mountains, fancy restaurants, and actual snow" Somehow, you laugh.
"Fitting for my new legal name" Tigris joins you and laughs, hugging you tightly.
You stare at the flowers, and the hundreds of seats, and you aren't ready. But there's a smile on your face. Because at that point you don't even care.
Coriolanus was alone. He thinks Sejanus could've been there. Annoying and smiley as always, but he would've been the best man. Chosen by him because there wasn't another option. But it's only him. Staring at his mother's ring.
Pure gold, a medium size rectangle-shaped diamond. Shining ridiculously in white and small rainbows.
You look just like your father on his wedding day.
Your mother was so happy. Spinning and laughing as your father danced with her.
Remember. As you take a wife, you are choosing a life partner. You have to remember every morning why you chose her. You have to respect and protect her. Give her a home, a warm place to grow old together.
Y/n is the perfect woman for you. She's so lucky to have you, my boy.
All of those things, Grandma'am had said to him as she handed the ring.
And now sitting alone in a room. Suit ready, in black, and very little gold details in the white shirt under. Tigris said it was going to match your dress.
Your father actually loved your mother, Coriolanus. Treat her right. That is the least you could do…
She knew. Tigris had to know everything.
Coriolanus wondered how you would look. A princess-style dress? Maybe velvet? And he imagined your face.
That's when he can't take it anymore. He cries. Because everything was going to be a lie. He cries because it could've been true. If only he had made better decisions. If only you weren't so smart that you discovered him.
He's a broken man.
But he grips the ring on his palm. Wiping the tears and deciding that he's never going to fail you again. As he knew you had never failed him. And even when you hated him, neither you would.
There are three mirrors. Your hands trace the shiny beats of your dress. From the strips to your breasts, to your waist and hips. The end was full of them. Combining gold, and even dark brown or grey. It was simple, slightly sheer. But extremely elegant. Made with crystals from your family's mines. Representative of your native District 1. Your hair is down, perfectly cut in that shag haircut you had when you were a teen. It fits perfectly with your veil. Also covered in tiny pieces of crystals that cover your head, to the tail of the dress.
You looked like a Capitol's bride.
And for some reason, you can't find the tears. It's just you staring at the mirrors. Accepting your doomed life.
As you open the door, you know there are already tears on everyone but you.
Clemensia, Persephone, your mother, and Tigris sob and look at you in shock.
"Oh my god, my baby. You look perfect!" Your mother cries, caressing your cheeks and sobbing. You smile at her, just that.
They keep talking about the dress when you hear a knock followed by the door of the room opening.
"Is there any time for this old woman to see the bride?" Tigris smiles at her grandmother, inviting her to join.
"There's only ten minutes left. Everyone hurry!" Your mother says. They exaggerate, only Tigris gives you one last retouch, and hands you the bouquet. With white roses and some lilies scattered.
She kisses your cheek and smiles deeply.
"It's gonna be fine. I swear…" and with that, she leaves.
Grandma'am only looks at you with love. She always liked you for his grandson. And she believed love floated around you two. For the record, she said it two weeks ago in a rehearsal you had.
"I knew it from the first day my little Coriolanus came home rambling about you" she smiles.
"And from that day, it always had been you, my dear. Even today… always saying you are the love of his life" Your eyes water. Coriolanus wouldn't lie to his grandma about something like that. He could lie about killing someone but not about something he knew would make her happy.
"He did?" You ask as she takes your hand.
"Of course. I know I'm old, and I can't tell he has committed some errors. But I know those blue always are so in love with you, my child" That couldn't be.
"Do you love him?" You won't cry. But you're fighting the lump in your throat.
"I do. Ever since the first day…" you admit.
Maybe you would always resent the man you were going to marry. But you would always love the memory of the boy you once had.
"Promise me you will make him happy, dear. He has so little when we lost everything once. Take care of him. Give him a family, that's all I ask" You can't say no to her. You just can't.
"I promise." She hugs you. And you swallow the lump, looking at the door.
The moment had arrived. The doors opened, the music started and everyone turned back to see you entering by the hand of your father.
Sounds of shock, admiring, and more are very low but noticeable.
For Coriolanus, it's only you. Your hair was like when you met him. The dress is so perfect. Your makeup too. And he promises to keep the image of you in his mind for the rest of his life.
He genuinely smiles. And you are feeling so confused. Could his grandmother have been telling the truth?
Coriolanus actually loved you? The way he had been smiling and treating you for the past months. Had he really been feeling sorry?
Would you forgive him if that was the case?
You can't tell because your father has dropped you at the altar.
You didn't even feel his kiss on the head and promised good luck.
You just feel Snow taking your hand. It's warm, even soft for his calloused hands.
And you can't turn to see him.
There are many people taking pictures of you and him.
Everyone loved the Capitol's Dream Girl and her handsome wealthy fiancé ever since the engagement.
When you last expected it, you are officially Mrs. Snow.
"You may kiss the bride…" you know he's doubting. But there's no time, so you stand on your tiptoes to kiss him.
It takes him aback, but soon, his hands find that damn spot, in your hips. And it doesn't feel wrong, for some reason.
You just see him and you realize he's your man now.
Neither of you can understand the emotions flowing at the moment. You like seeing him smiling at you like that, but you also feel sad. And he loves the way you look, he feels so attached to you.
In other words, both feel like it was real. But both knew the truth.
You don't dare to eye any of your family or friends as you leave by the hand of your now husband.
The reception was just as big as the ceremony. With the most elegant music, food of all kinds, and a varied menu.
Your husband has chosen to give the option of fish florentine, mentioning to you that his uncle used to get the best food from District 4 before the war.
For you, it was fried steak with three types of cheese and coated with mushroom cream.
There's a picture for everyone. You and Snow enter the party. Your father says a little speech about how much of a great marriage you would have.
You dance with your baby cousins. Lucky Flickerman was able to ask about your dress and possible honeymoon location.
You ignore your husband for the rest of the night. Only when the cake has to be sliced. It's a 5 layer cake, covered in white and very little baby pink roses. Snow and you agreed to make it white chocolate with raspberries and cream.
He cleans some cream from your cheek, and before you can even think about it, you laugh.
He danced with you but you only decided to hear his heartbeats, instead of seeing him. It made you understand that lonely days were over. But at what cost?
That night, you are already seeing the mountains and green woods covered in white at the top. You sigh, looking at the metallic silk nightgown. You didn't want the traditional white or pink silk gown. This was short, offered some cleavage, it shined in orange and pink tones when it was supposed to be lavender.
During the whole hour trip to the residence of the honeymoon, you didn't say anything to him.
When you come out of the bathroom, he's sitting at the edge of the bed. A dark grey robe on him and you wonder if he was naked too.
Ignoring him, you go to the giant vanity in front of the bed.
You try to focus on the plenty of assignments you'll have after the honeymoon. With less than three months before the next games, your water mutts had already killed a person. Gaul only laughed and insisted on you to feed the beasts with the corpse.
Little did everyone know that on the Reaping day, District 12 people would receive a tiny stain of liquid Mercury on their ballot. Within months of inhaling that thing, they would be sick. It was your revenge for the revolt in the mines that almost killed your father.
But for now, you can only feel his eyes on you. Like the first day of school. You know he wants to touch you. He wants to claim you as his wife. But he doesn't have the right.
So he stays seated, hoping you will make the first move.
Ignoring the way your heart beats, wanting to feel something. Your heart was blind, thinking you could make love with Coriolanus.
Once you have finished with your facial cream. You turn off the light. Only the balcony offered some glimpses.
You step between his legs, hands on his shoulders. The smell of tobacco leaf and vanilla bean perfume hits him, making him gulp. Unsure whether to touch you or not.
"Wait, y/n… Are you-… Are you sure?" He asks, unsure of what is happening. He kind of thanked you for turning off the lights. That way you couldn't see how blushed he was. After all, this was going to be his first time. After actual years of desiring you, he gets to have you for the rest of his life.
Then you lean, inches away from his lips.
" I don't want to hear you" and you don't say more, neither does he. In the darkness, he finds your lips and there's plenty of time to kiss you slowly. With wet sounds, your hands fly to his hair. Making him moan for the first time. It shouldn't be turning you on. But it is, so you slightly move your head, and maybe he understood, 'cause he started kissing your jaw, soon your neck.
He feels you pulling out the nightgown, and it's making him so fucking hard.
You kiss him again and he's free to wander across your naked body. Now his…
It's his first time, just like it is yours. So when he tries to touch you past your lower belly, you guide him.
Softly making him slide his fingers across your wet folds. You moan and he thinks it's the most erotic thing he's ever heard in his life. He knows you are skilled even when it's also your first time. He knows because of your timing, the way you swayed your hips any time you walked, and the way you balanced touching him and moaning at the same time.
Before you, he rarely touched himself or thought about sex. But soon after kissing you for the first time, he would hate himself for thinking how you would look underneath the Academy uniform.
And now, there you were, naked, taking his virginity as you slowly rode him. You swear he has to be big enough to be able to feel him and his details inside you. The pacing was so soft yet hard. Soft because of your slick, hard because of the pleasure.
All you could hear was his sighs, but the stars of the night were your moans and little yelps for him. No words exchanged, just the sound of your desire and his response.
And when you start going faster, holding onto him as if your life depended on it, he was over the edge to say it. But he couldn't.
Your first time should've been with him on top. Tigris said it was traditional. But he let you take the lead, and it was turning out better. You even let him paint your walls with his cum. You let him kiss and suck your nipples as he felt the last spasms of his climax, prolonged by the way you squeezed him.
Even with the silence, both of you knew. It was the hardest and best orgasm of your life.
At the outsides of The Capitol, there's an office. All University students needed to submit their petition to graduate two years prior to the ceremony. Gaul demanded you and Snow to go as soon as you returned from the honeymoon.
Now, two months married, you feel slightly lighter. You talked a little bit more with him. Breakfasts were quiet but peaceful. At the University he always tried to protect you.
The news was all about the wedding. Saying it was the event that officially marked the end of the war. People loved you and encouraged your husband to pursue a political party to start campaigns, hoping to win the presidency. As for you, rumors had spread that you were going to be the next game maker of Panem. Evenings were to study and go for some walks. And most of the nights you repeated the same formula. Ending up tangled in your bed with the darkness reigning.
You couldn't help but wonder if something had changed.
Coriolanus Snow was still cold, serious, a man of few but harsh words. But to you, he seemed warm. Like if fucking him had made him switch and now he was eating out from the palm of your hand.
Still, you still felt like the past was haunting you. With memories of the last games and the moment you lost your lovely blonde guy.
"It's done," Snow says coming out of a private office. The green tiles stop being attractive to your eye, making you blink twice to stare at your husband.
He's yours, just like you wanted. With his perfect eyes, perfect smile, hair, body, and dream life.
You sigh with relief. He had insisted on submitting both papers to soothe you from stress.
"We are likely to receive a letter next year. The woman said it was basically approved for us…" you nod. He offers you a sweet smile, that you can't help but reply.
He offers you his arm to take, ready to leave the office.
Lately, Coriolanus has been worried for you. The antidepressant treatment was over, but you were under pressure because you had created the arena and strategies for the 11th Hunger Games. People debated your capacity and ideals. And he knew that would stress you.
He was patiently trying to make you feel comfortable on his side. To make you feel again like you said in the interview with Flickerman.
"Thank you." You say to him.
"Of course."
After taking the elevator, you two are ready to walk out. Until there's a loud explosion near. You exchange looks with your husband, and as he squeezes your hand tighter, what feels like another explosion makes you and Snow fly away.
When he opens his eyes, the building is literally on fire. He reacts quickly, realizing there has been another bombing.
He's okay, just his neck hurts, but there's no blood. It's you who's worrying him a lot.
He calls your name but you don't respond.
Through the ashes and hazes of dust, he looks out for you.
A few feet away, you are coughing, lying on the ground.
He runs and kneels beside you.
"Y/n, please. Can you hear me?" You nod slowly, barely moving.
"I-can't breathe…" Snow sees how your nose bleeds and there are some glasses making your arm shake a little. The sleeve of your cardigan is drenched in blood.
He panics and goes into a full panic attack. Not even when he was in the arena and got hurt. He truly feared losing you.
"I'm taking you out of here" he looks around and notices there's no one around.
He carries you, doing his best to run out of the increasing fire.
"I don't want to die, Coriolanus" you gasp, trying to breathe. He looks down at you, now looking at the dirt in your face.
"You won't die, love. Just calm down and breathe" In fact he knows you could die. But he refuses to accept it as he finds the exit of the building.
There's chaos on the streets.
And in the middle of the disaster, he starts asking for help.
"Please… I need an ambulance for my wife!" He pleads to some people who seem to be helping a group of kids.
A woman listens and calls for a man.
"Help is coming, y/n. Do not close your eyes" The rush in him impeded him from crying. Because he was so freaked out.
"Mr. Snow, I'm a doctor. I'll help your wife get into a hospital" A middle-aged man gets closer, inspecting your face. You can't hear anything. Your eyes close by themselves, and you still feel so out of breath.
It's the sound of the ambulance that works as a lullaby and makes you pass out.
It's uncertain. But reliable sources said it was a direct target from rebel allies, a direct target to you. Because the next game maker needed to be erased from Panem before she could even start. Snow is shockingly angered. And he adds another point to his hate for rebellion.
"I won't quit." You affirm from the hospital bed. Your mother frowns.
"I don't think you're understanding the seriousness of this situation, y/n" she suggests, to which your father also nods.
The door opens and Coriolanus enters, hurried to inspect you.
"Are you Okay? The doctor said it wasn't that bad but-" you smile, caressing his shoulder.
"I'm fine. Just inhaled too much smoke. And my arm, but that's it" You show him your left arm covered in gazes.
He kisses your forehead.
"I was so afraid," he whispers in your ear.
And maybe it was all about your emotions after the shocking day. But you finally feel it. You love him. And the way he had acted since the engagement made you believe he could possibly feel the same. But you aren't sure.
"I won't quit. That would only give the rebels a point. I will make this games memorable. And nobody in Panem will ever question my methods" Your words shouldn't have made your husband proud. But it does.
"You're so right, dear," he says, making you smile nervously.
You are allowed to leave the hospital that night. And the whole ride, you have to fight the tears. You can't take it anymore.
As soon as you get inside your room. Coriolanus starts running the tub to clean you up.
You get on your knees. Your throat already feels as if you were choking. He spots you on your carpet, looking so vague and lost.
"Please, Coriolanus." He's watching you carefully. And by your face, he feels you are about to say something from the bottom of your heart.
"What? Are you in pain?" He asks scared, kneeling in front of you. You don't answer and that terrifies him. Until you do.
"Tell me you are in love with me. Just once, doesn't matter if you never say it again for the rest of my life. If you mean it, say you love me." Tears start flowing, your face turns red, and Coriolanus can't help but feel vulnerable by seeing like that.
"Because if you say you only insisted on marrying me because of the money, and my father's position… I'm gonna hate you till the day I die. For all you did to me and everything that could've been" he has to close his eyes. To not see you as a tear falls without a warning from his left eye. He has to decide. Is he going to break his promise? He said he couldn't love anyone again. But you weren't new. You were the first. She was the last.
Coriolanus wished to be your boyfriend soon after meeting you. And from waiting for the right moment to ask, he ended up ruining everything for his ambition. From believing she was different, that she was worth it. Ignoring all the pain he caused to you.
And until that moment he realized he had almost obligated you to marry him.
He already had what he wanted. The money and his power were growing, and he had the girl.
Crying on her knees in front of him. Asking him to end her pain. Just by loving her after all the pain he caused her.
Slowly, he reaches for your face. Your sobs became almost silent. Your heart was beating so fast. And if Coriolanus didn't speak now, you would end up having a second mental breakdown.
But he caressed your cheeks. And he traced your face. Where your scar should've been. New waves of tears fall as you feel what he's doing. Only making shut your eyes harder.
"Look at me, y/n" you can't. You're not ready to hear him saying he used you once again.
"I can't." You whisper, sobbing. He decided then to grab you by the waist. Being so gentle, made you feel like two years ago when he was still your lover.
He placed you carefully on the bed. Making you hide your face against the pillows, ruining the white satin with your makeup.
He doesn't care. He just wants to be honest. Real. He's still young. Coriolanus knows he can't live the rest of his life married to you, making you believe he never loved you.
Only you would be able to see who he really was. Even if he ended up having children with you someday. He would never love them like you.
He could be cold and his decisions would be considered cruel. But the only person on earth that would judge him was going to be you.
"Please look at me, y/n" he caresses your cheek, smiling softly. Slowly, you sit, facing him finally.
You can see your old and sweet Coriolanus with the smile he's giving you. And it only makes you cry and cry again.
"I love you."
You stop. Hiccuping, you look perplexed at him.
He's still smiling.
You know he killed two people, probably three.
You'd never know he sent Sejanus to be hanged.
You know he's not the best person.
You'd never know he had a letter he was going to send to you before going to District 12.
You know he caused you so much pain.
And yet you thought you'd never hear him saying those three words.
"I made you suffer. I ruined everything. You know what I did just by looking at my eyes. How can we love each other after all?" You shrug. Trying to control yourself and answer him properly.
"Maybe because we never got the chance to make it real." He chuckles, taking your hand.
"You know I also did cruel things this year." He nodded, having no right to judge you. He wondered if you did all of that from rage, for everything that happened.
"And I still believe you deserve the world, Capitol's dream girl…" he makes you laugh. Out of embarrassment from the silly nickname Flickerman gave you.
"My father was a bad man, and yet, he always treated my mom right. I can't promise I'll be perfect, but I will never hurt you again" You brush his hair. Dishevelling it in the process, making him look like a year ago.
"Promise me. Just you and I, getting each other's back" he says. And you know you'll go to hell for being with him. But he was the love of your life.
"Just you and I, my love" he smiles again.
"I'll make you First Lady of Panem one day. It'll fit better for your current nickname" you roll your eyes.
"What will we do with that much power?" He stares deeply into your eyes. You changed his hair, and he hoped he could still see the scar on your face. But it was gone. Just like the girl he met two years ago. So was the boy he was. But it was okay. Because he'd make you be like him. And nothing would matter more than you and him.
"Everything, dear" you smile. And feeling like teenagers again, both lean at the same time to kiss. Like it was the first time.
"Can I?…" he asks on your lips. You nod, hugging from his neck.
He kisses you finally. Soft, slow but demanding.
And you remember you made it. Your husband would have the power, but you just won control.
And for the next two weeks, during summer break, Coriolanus and you spent your days in District 1. Spending the days eating in the best restaurants, visiting museums, and swimming in private pools. Spending the nights exploring each other for the first time. He marked you his and you marked him yours. Watching the moon and forgetting about the university, moving into a new house, letting the past die.
Maybe the memory of Lucy Gray Baird would haunt Coriolanus for the rest of his life, but you were going to be there to turn it into haze. And maybe you would never forget the pain of losing thanks to him, but he would paint your days golden. He would be a good husband who would make it up each day.
The first day of your second year of University started differently. Coriolanus refused to learn to drive and refused to let you do it. But you convinced him it was okay.
You left home together. And arrived together on campus. Went through the stairs holding hands.
"Look, it's The Capitol's trendiest couple" Persephone, an old classmate from the Academy but also a new friend said. Festus, Clemmie, and other new friends were there, laughing and making fun of you and Coriolanus.
And you blushed. Abruptly stopping your steps. Your husband turned to see you.
"Everything is fine?" You nod, smiling.
"I just… This is exactly how I wanted to begin University last year" It made his heart clench.
"Only… he's missing it" Like a needle taking him aback, Coriolanus knew what you meant.
"He'd hate what we have become though" It's bad, but you laugh.
"You're right, dear" you agree with your husband.
"But happy for us…" he adds, and you nod. Grabbing his arm to finally enter the building.
Soon, two peacekeepers call you to Gaul's office, just like last year. She's not there. But there's a letter on her desk.
You exchange looks with Coriolanus. He tilts his head and follows you to the desk. Carefully, he grabs the envelope and opens it.
Students, as the summer ends, I hope you had a pleasant summer.
Congratulations on your success after the games, Mr and Mrs. Snow.
Given the circumstances of Dean Highbottom's death last year, I won't be able to begin with the preparation for the 12th Hunger Games.
I believe you two have gained enough knowledge to start without me.
You'll find materials in the backroom of my principal laboratory. You'll find it quite interesting.
Make me proud and you two will be the first and automatic option to replace me in a couple of years.
And keep in mind what I always ask. What are the games for?
Dr. Volumnia Gaul
No words are exchanged after reading the letter. Coriolanus only nods to you, agreeing to the message.
So you go to the principal laboratory. It's clean and the sound of different animals is the only sound inside.
There are two long tables, and it's obvious, that there are at least six corpses covered in white blankets.
When you pull away the blanket, you gasp in shock.
The corpses that were once humans now seemed a mix of animals.
Until you see what it is.
"Coryo. These are the corpses of the death tributes" You are shocked. He was also surprised.
"The mutt bite… transformed them?" Slowly, you nod. He hands you some gloves and a face mask
"Every year I end up creating something more vile" you admit touching the slimy skin of the corpses, turning dark and the human face blemished. Only a girl from District 4 had won Mags. A lot of people loved her. But the cheer wasn't very loud, thank you and your marriage.
"These were also the people who probably agreed on the bombs. They hate us, y/n" he's right.
"They need a yearly reminder that war is over. That we won and that you won't give up" You turn to face him. There's the anger and hate you disliked about him. But now you have plenty of reasons to agree with him.
"They deserve this."
"You're right"
He sees you making some tests to study the altered DNA and smiles. He was so fucked up.
"Don't stare, silly. Come here and help me. There's a lot to do" you say playfully. So he smirks mockingly and starts helping you.
"Maybe we could have some resting after this" he suggests, you laugh.
"Here? With deformed corpses? I don't think so, dear"
"Not here. We can go to the private ladies' room." Sometimes you made fun of him for having the kind of a pervert teenager. Ever since you decided to make up with him, Coriolanus and you were the biggest switching couple in the history of sex.
"Oh, my goodness. Can you behave for once, Mr. Snow?" You ignore him, sealing some glass containers with pieces of skin, fluids, and more from the corpses.
"You know what? Forget it. We haven't done it in the upper living room, or the library. Yeah, I can wait." Brushing past him, you laugh.
"I swear I will turn you into a mutt if you don't shut up, Coryo" both of you laugh. And Coriolanus feels happy. He thinks he has your back. He finally won.
He won the money, the fame, and the power was growing. And he won the girl.
It was already dark when you were done doing the practices at the University. Coriolanus helps you with your coat and bag as you make your way to the car.
"After you, dear" he indicates that you should sit first. So you do, and after you start the car, you turn to see him.
He has rebellious hair hanging on his forehead. He lets you brush his hair and smiles, relaxing after a long day.
There's time to catch your lips and kiss you deeply. Hands on your hips as usual and yours tangled in his hair. Even after brushing it.
"Do you think she'll notice?" He asks agitated, breathing unevenly. You giggle, fixing your dark purple lipstick through the mirror of the car.
"She gave us six bodies, but seven doesn't make much difference. Right?" He smiles too, even giggling a bit.
"I can't wait to take a shower," he admits.
"I can't wait for you to take me to bed after shower" Before you make it outside of campus, he kisses you again, squeezing your inner thigh, almost making you moan.
"Me neither…"
___________________________
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In my head… this was the wedding dress<3
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artsekey · 6 months
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Disney's Wish
Look, Disney's Wish has been universally panned across the internet, and for good reason.
It’s just…kind of okay.
 When we sit down to watch a Disney film—you know, from the company that dominated the animation industry from 1989 to (arguably) the mid 2010’s and defined the medium of animation for decades—we expect something magnificent. Now, I could sit here and tell you everything that I thought was wrong with Wish, but if you’re reading this review, then I imagine that you’ve already heard the most popular gripes from other users across the web. So, let me focus in:
The biggest problem with Wish—in fact, the only problem with Wish—is Magnifico.
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Whoa, that’s crazy! There’re so many things about Wish that could’ve been better! The original concept was stronger! The music was bad--
I hear you, I do. But stay with me here, okay? Take my hand. I studied under artists from the Disney renaissance. I teach an adapted model of Disney’s story pipeline at a University level. I spent a ridiculous amount of time getting degrees in this, and I am about to dissect this character and the narrative to a stupid degree.
First, we need to understand that a good story doesn’t start and end with what we see on the screen. Characters aren’t just fictional people; when used well, characters are tools the author uses (or in this case, the director) to convey their message to the audience. Each character’s struggle should in some way engage with the story’s message, and consequently, the story’s theme. Similarly, when we look at our protagonist and our antagonist, we should see their characters and their journeys reflected in one-another.
So, what went wrong between Asha & Magnifico in terms of narrative structure?
Act I
In Wish, we’re introduced to our hero not long into the runtime—Asha. She’s ambitious, caring, and community-oriented; in fact, Asha is truly introduced to the audience through her love of Rosas (in ��Welcome to Rosas”).  She’s surrounded by a colorful cast of friends who act as servants in the palace, furthering her connection with the idea of community but also telling us that she’s not of status, and then she makes her way to meet Magnifico for her chance to become his next apprentice.
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Quick aside: I'm not going to harp on Asha as a character in the context of Disney's overall canon. Almost every review I've seen covers her as a new addition to Disney's ever-growing repertoire of "Cute Quirky Heroines", and I think to be fair to Asha as an actor in the narrative, it serves her best to be weighed within the context of the story she's part of.
As Asha heads upstairs for her interview, we're introduced to the man of the hour: Magnifico. He lives in a tower high above the population of Rosas, immediately showing us how he differs from Asha; he’s disconnected from his community. He lives above them. He has status. While the broader context of the narrative wants us to believe that this also represents a sense of superiority, I would argue that isn’t what Magnifico’s introduction conveys; he's isolated.
Despite this distance, he does connect with Asha in “At All Costs”. For a moment, their goals and values align. In fact, they align so well that Magnifico sees Asha as someone who cares as much about Rosas as he does, and almost offers her the position.
… Until she asks him to grant Saba’s wish.
This is framed by the narrative as a misstep. The resonance between their ideals snaps immediately, and Magnifico says something along the line of “Wow. Most people wait at least a year before asking for something.”
This disappointment isn't played as coming from a place of power or superiority. He was excited by the idea of working with someone who had the same values as he did, who viewed Rosas in the same way he does, and then learns that Asha’s motivations at least partially stem from a place of personal gain.
Well, wait, is that really Asha's goal?
While it's not wholistically her goal, it's very explicitly stated & implied that getting Saba's wish granted is at least a part of it. The audience learns (through Asha's conversation with her friends before the interview) that every apprentice Magnifico has ever had gets not only their wish granted, but the wishes of their family, too!  Asha doesn’t deny that this is a perk that she’s interested in, and I don't think this is a bad thing.
So, Is Asha’s commitment to Saba selfless, or selfish? I’m sure the director wanted it to seem selfless, wherein she believes her family member has waited long enough and deserves his wish granted, but we can’t ignore the broader context of Asha essentially trying to… skip the line.
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Then, we get our first point of tension. Magnifico reveals his “true colors” in snapping at Asha, telling her that he “decides what people deserve”. This is supposed to be the great motivator, it’s meant to incite anger in the audience—after all, no one gets to decide what you deserve, right? But unfortunately for the integrity of the film and the audience's suspension of disbelief, at least part of Magnifico’s argument is a little too sound to ignore:
Some wishes are too vague and dangerous to grant. Now, there’s visual irony here; he says this after looking at a 100 old man playing the lute. The idea that something so innocuous could be dangerous is absurd, and the audience is meant to agree.
... But we’ve also seen plenty of other wishes that might be chaotic—flying on a rocket to space, anyone? The use of the word vague is important, too—this implies wording matters, and that a wish can be misinterpreted or evolve into something that is dangerous even if the original intent was innocuous. His reasoning for people forgetting their wish (protecting them from the sadness of being unable to attain their dreams) is much weaker, but still justifiable (in the way an antagonist’s flawed views can be justified). The film even introduces a facet of Magnifico’s backstory that implies he has personal experience with the grief of losing a dream (in the destruction of his home), but that thread is never touched on again.
              What is the audience supposed to take from this encounter? If we’re looking at the director’s intent, I’d argue that we’ve been introduced to a well-meaning young girl and a king who’s locked away everyone’s greatest aspiration because he believes he deserves to have the power to decide who gets to be happy.
              But what are we shown? Our heroine, backed by her friends, strives to be Magnifico’s apprentice because she loves the city but also would really like to see her family's wishes granted. When this request is denied and she loses the opportunity to be his apprentice, she deems Magnifico’s judgement unfair & thus begins her journey to free the dreams of Rosas’ people.
              In fairness, Magnifico doesn’t exhibit sound judgement or kindness through this act of the film. He’s shown to be fickle, and once his composure cracks, he can be vindictive and sharp. He's not a good guy, but I'd argue he's not outright evil. He's just got the makings of a good villain, and those spikes of volatility do give us a foundation to work off of as he spirals, but as we’ll discuss in a bit, the foreshadowing established here isn’t used to the ends it implies.
              While I was watching this film, I was sure Magnifico was going to be a redeemable villain. He can’t connect with people because he's sure they value what he provides more than they value him (as seen in “At All Costs” and the aftermath), and Asha’s asking for more was going to be framed as a mistake. His flaw was keeping his people too safe and never giving them the chance to sink or swim, and he's too far removed from his citizens to see that he is appreciated. Asha does identify this, and the culmination of her journey is giving people the right to choose their path, but the way Magnifico becomes the “true” villain and his motivations for doing so are strangely divorced from what we’re shown in Act I.  
Act II:
His song, “This is the Thanks I Get!?” furthers the idea that Magnifico’s ire—and tipping point—is the fact that he thinks the people he’s built a kingdom for still want more. Over the course of this 3:14 song, we suddenly learn that Magnifico sends other people to help his community and doesn’t personally get involved (we never see this outside of this song), and that he’s incredibly vain/narcissistic (he's definitely a narcissist). I think feeling under-appreciated is actually a very strong motivation for Magnifico as a character-turning-villain, and it works very well. It’s justified based on what we’ve seen on screen so far: he feels under-appreciated (even though he’s decidedly not—the town adores him), he snaps and acts irrationally under stress (as seen with his outburst with Asha), and he’s frustrated that people seem to want more from him (again, as seen with his conversation with Asha in Act I).
              But then… he opens the book.
Ah, the book. As an object on screen, we know that it's filled with ancient and evil magic, well-known to be cursed by every relevant character in the film, and kept well-secured under lock and key. But what does it stand for in the context of the narrative's structure? A quick path to power? We're never told that it has any redeeming qualities; Magnifico himself doesn't seem to know what he's looking for when he opens it. It feels... convenient.
I think it's also worth noting that he only turns to the book when he's alone; once again, the idea of connection and community rears it's ugly head! Earlier in the film, Amaya-- his wife-- is present and turns him away from taking that path. In her absence, he makes the wrong choice.
This decision could make sense; it contains powerful magic, and if it were framed in such a way that the people of Rosas were losing faith in Magnifico’s magic, as if what he can do might not be enough anymore after what they felt from Star, going for the book that we know contains spells that go above and beyond what he can already do would be logical. Along the lines of, “If they’re not happy with what I do for them, fine. I, ever the “martyr”, will do the unthinkable for you, because you want more.”
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            It would keeps with the idea that Magnifico believes he's still trying to help people, but his motivation has taken his self-imposed pity party and turned it into resentment and spite.
 But, that’s not the case. Instead he talks about reversing that “light”, which has had no real negative or tangible consequences on Rosas. Everyone had a warm feeling for a few seconds. Again, it’s meant to paint him as a vain control freak, but… he hasn’t lost any power. The citizens of Rosas even assume the great showing of magic was Magnifico.
Act III
              Then, we get to the consequences of opening the book (and perhaps my biggest qualm with this film). The book is established as being cursed. Magnifico knows it, Asha knows it, and Amaya—who is introduced as loyal-- knows it. The characters understand his behavior is a direct result of the book, and search for a way to save him. This is only the focus of the film for a few seconds, but if you think about it, the fact that his own wife cannot find a way to free him of the curse he’s been put under is unbelievably tragic. Worse still, upon discovering there is no way to reverse the curse, Magnifico—the king who built the city & “protected it” in his own flawed way for what seems to be centuries—is thrown out by his wife. You know, the wife who's stood loyal at his side for years?
              It’s played for laughs, but there’s something unsettling about a character who’s clearly and explicitly under the influence of a malevolent entity being left… unsaved. If you follow the idea of Magnifico being disconnected from community being a driving force behind his arc, the end of the film sees him in a worse situation he was in at the start: truly, fully alone.
              They bring in so many opportunities for Magnifico to be sympathetic and act as a foil for Asha; he’s jaded, she’s not. He’s overly cautious (even paranoid), she’s a risk-taker. He turns to power/magic at his lowest point, Asha turns to her friends at her lowest point. Because this dichotomy isn’t present, and Magnifico—who should be redeemable—isn’t, the film is so much weaker than it could’ve been. The lack of a strong core dynamic between the protagonist and antagonist echoes through every facet of the film from the music to the characterization to the pacing, and I believe if Magnifico had been more consistent, the film would’ve greatly improved across the board.
I mean, come on! Imagine if at the end of the film, Asha—who, if you remember, did resonate with Magnifico’s values at the start of the film—recognizes that he's twisted his original ideals and urges him to see the value in the people he’s helped, in their ingenuity, in their gratitude, & that what he was able to do before was enough. Going further, asking what his wish is or was—likely something he’s never been asked— and showing empathy! We’d come full circle to the start of the film where Asha asks him to grant her wish.
Pushing that further, if Magnifico’s wish is to see Rosas flourish or to be a good/beloved king, he'd have the the opportunity to see the value in failing and how pursuing the dream is its own complex and valuable journey, and how not even he is perfect.
 The curse and the book (which, for the purposes of this adjustment, would need to be established as representing the idea of stepping on others to further your own goals/the fast way to success), then serve as the final antagonist, that same curse taking root in the people of Rosas who’ve had their dreams destroyed, and Asha works with the community to quell it. Asha’s learned her lesson, so has Magnifico, and the true source of evil in the film—the book—is handled independently. Magnifico steps back from his role as King, Amaya still ends up as Queen, and Asha takes her place as the new wish-granter.
This route could even give us the true “Disney villain” everyone’s craving; giving the book sentience and having it lure Magnifico in during “This is the Thanks I Get!?” leaves it as its own chaotic evil entity.
All in all, Magnifico's introduction paved a road to redemption that the rest of the film aggressively refused to deliver on, instead doubling down on weaker motivations that seem to appear out of thin air. Once the audience thinks, hey, that bad guy might have a point, the protagonist has to do a little more heavy lifting to convince us they're wrong.
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Look at the big-bad-greats from Disney's library. There isn't a point in the Lion King where we pause and think, "Wait a second, maybe Scar should be the guy who rules the Pridelands." Ursula from the Little Mermaid, though motivated by her banishment from King Triton's Seas, never seems to be the right gal for the throne. Maybe Maleficent doesn't get invited to the princess's birthday party, but we don't watch her curse a baby and think, Yeah, go curse that baby, that's a reasonable response to getting left out.
What do they all have in common? Their motivation is simple, their goal is clear, and they don't care who they hurt in pursuit of what they want.
Magnifico simply doesn't fall into that category. He's motivated by the idea of losing power, which is never a clear or impactful threat. His goal at the start seems to be to protect Rosas, then it turns into protecting his own power, and then-- once he's corrupted-- he wants to capture Star. The problem is, there's no objective to put this power toward. Power for power's sake is useless. Scar craves power because he feels robbed of status. Ursula believes the throne is rightfully hers. Maleficent wanted to make a statement. Magnifico... well, I'm not really sure.
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