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pizza-portal · 2 years

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Publicity Stunt- Max Verstappen

Summary: Max Verstappen. Formula 1 driver for Redbull Racing and 2021 World Champion (though it’s controversial). Maisie Kozlov. Russian model for Dior and the entire world’s eye candy. They have the fame, the money, the careers. What more could they possibly need?… a publicity stunt to make them more famous, obviously.

Chapter 4

How many gossip news sources are there? Well, I actually couldn’t tell you. But, I can tell you that each and every one of them were talking about Max Verstappen and Maisie Kozlov and their relationship announcement. Everyone wouldn’t shut up about it.

Maisie stared down at her phone, seeing more and more comments pop up about it. The photo of her and Max had more likes than she could possibly fathom and more F1 fan pages had started to follow her too. Every second, her phone buzzed with notifications from other social medias, and every second, her heart rate quickened. Sure, there was always a spotlight on her, but not to the degree that is was at that moment.

Finally, her phone buzzed with a call from Max. She breathed out, answering the call and putting the phone to her ear. “Yes?” she answered, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

“Hey, how busy are you this week?” Maisie liked how forward Max was. He never avoided any questions he had or beat around the bush. Whatever he had to say, he would say it. And, she admired that. It was a nice contrast to her shy and hesitant nature.

“Uh, well, I have a shoot later in the week. I have to finish up a project. My fridge is empty so-”

“Does that mean it’s a bad time to ask you if I can visit France for the week?” Maisie went silent, quite shocked to say the least.

“Yes… I mean no! Yes. Yes, come,” the words tumbled from her lips and she felt so silly for how quickly fell out. It had only been a couple days since she’d seen him, and she already missed her new found friend.

“Alright,” Max chuckled. “Well, I leave tomorrow.”

Having spent the morning cleaning her flat, Maisie was (obviously) late to picking up Max at the train station. She had dressed in a black mini skirt and oversized gray sweater with a pair of Steve Madden’s. When she had finally parked, she saw Max sitting on a bench, looking down at his phone. She smiled brightly, getting out of the car to greet him.

“котик!” she called to him. His head shot up after hearing the familiar pet name. He smiled upon seeing her, standing up.

“Hey!” he smiled. He wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her. Maisie’s heartbeat quickened, but she swore it was just the excitement in seeing her friend.

“I’m sorry. I’m like thirty minutes late. I just-”

“I got here a couple minutes ago,” Max cut her off. Maisie looked up at him shocked. Was the train late? Did something happen? Confusion was written all over her face her wide eyes and lips agape. “I know you’re late a lot, so I told you an earlier time, so you could be late to that, but on time for the actual time.” While Max spoke, confusion started to wash over his face while he explained his logic. But, Maisie just started smiling realizing that he was picking up on her little habits.

“You’ve grown soft for me, котик?” she teased him. Max’s lips pressed into a tight line while looking down at her and his jaw became stiff.

“May I?” he quickly changed the subject, gesturing between his bag and the car. Maisie nodded, helping by opening the boot of the car while Max loaded his luggage in.

Upon entering Maisie’s flat, Max set his suitcase in the corner next to the coat rack where Maisie dropped her jacket on the hook. “Do you want water or anything?” Maisie asked while finding her way to the kitchen. Max looked over her flat, taking in the art pieces and furniture. There were painting of plants and flowers while there were a couple drawn fashion collections framed here and there.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he called after her. He walked into the kitchen while she made him a glass of water. “How have you been?”

Maisie giggled while handing him the glass. She leaned her hip against the counter saying, “You say that like you haven’t seen me in a couple days,”. Max takes a sip of water.

“Just making sure the world didn’t end in those days,” he told her quietly. Maisie tried to hide her smile while his blue eyes scanned over her face. The small France granted them very little space in the kitchen, making them feel much closer.

“The world is still intact,” she responded. He sighed, just giving her a close lip smile. Her body felt weird in that moment, but it was probably just the weather outside or something. It had nothing to do with Max. “When’s your next race?”

As if Max snapped out of something, he opened his mouth, sighing loudly and looking down at his glass of water. “Next week,” he spoke. “Italy.”

“How are you feeling?” Maisie asked. “After the last race,”

“Confident,” Max spoke, looking away. Maisie took in his features, confused.

“You don’t sound confident,” she spoke softly. He glanced at her. His hand ran over his face while all his features displayed visible stress. “Come on, let’s sit down.” While she guided him to the dark green, velvet couch, she set out a coaster for him to put his water on before sitting down. He sat down next to her. He sighed. Maisie simply patiently waited for him to explain. He was not on her time, and she wasn’t in his. It was whenever he wanted to speak.

“I won,” he starts. His hands nervously bumped into each other and twiddled around. He took another deep breath, and Maisie heard the hesitant shake underneath the air. “I won what I was supposed to do and what everyone wanted me to. I did what I have spent my life working towards. I wasted my childhood to win this.” Maisie could sense the difficulty in saying that last sentence. She wanted to reach out, to console him in some way but she didn’t know how close of friends they were. So, she kept her hands in her lap. “And this season, everyone is expecting me to do it again. And, shit mate,” he chuckled nervously. “It hard. It’s a lot of pressure.”

“I hear you,” Maisie whispered.

“Yeah,” Max rubbed the palm of his hands again the denim of his jeans, trying to rid them of the nervous sweat pooled there. “Gosh, you should just hear how pissed my dad is all the time.” He laughed nervously. “Je bent een slechte chauffeur. Hoe gaat het mijn zoon?” Maisie didn’t know what it meant but it sounded harsh. Her body reacted before she could really stop herself. Her hand was placed on top of his and he looked up at her.

“I’m sorry, Max,” she whispered. She squeezed his hand. “You are a very talented driver. And, if you’ve done it once, you can do it again. I believe in you.” He swallowed. Maisie thought of way to help him. She smiled as an idea popped into her head. “I have an idea to help you.”

The next morning, Maisie and Max stood with multiple couples in a dark lit room with some affirmations and vibrations being sounded through a speaker. “Couples yoga?” Max whispered, glancing around.

“Well, this was the earliest session I could get,” Maisie responded, adjusting her sports bra. “There’s no such thing as friends yoga, especially in France… And it’ll be fun. I de-stress like this all time.” Max opened his mouth to speak but the instructor started speaking.

“Bonjour les amoureux!” she spoke softly. “Bienvenue au yoga en couple. Commençons par nous rapprocher de votre partenaire.”

“We have to stand close together,” Maisie whispered, translating for Max. They stood close to each other with their chest facing each other. There was about ten inches between them.

“Laisse ton cœur, rassemblez-vous tous les deux,” the instructor spoke pushing Maisie and Max closer together chest to chest. Maisie swallowed, slightly regretting getting the session. They stood with their chests slightly grazing each other. Well, Maisie’s chest grazed Max’s torso. “Prendre des respirations profondes.”

“Take deep breaths,” Maisie translated before closing her eyes and breathing in deep. She took in Max’s scent. The masculine, woody scent infiltrated her senses once again. Her heart beat sped up just by his torso pushing against her chest. She looked up at him already finding him looking down at her. “Embrassez-vous les uns les autres” Max’s arms moved first, just hearing the word ‘embrace’. His arms moved around her waist while his fingers gently pressed against her spine. Maisie couldn’t even think clearly. In fact, the instructor had to move her arms around Max’s elbows in order for her to embrace him.

“Is this okay?” Max whispered. Maisie nodded, scared her voice would shake if she spoke. Maisie took a deep breath, letting her fingertips feel his skin and each fine hair on his arm. She felt a thin vein in his arms and let her fingers travel up until her fingers met his bicep. The tense muscle screamed of stress from under the skin.

“Relax, Max,” she whispered to him. She heard him breath out while the muscle under her fingers loosened. While the instructor spoke, Maisie followed while Max copied her movements. They took a step back from each other, and Maisie suddenly felt cold and vulnerable without Max being so close to her. She wanted to recoil into her own body to avoid how open it was around her.

While following the instructor’s instructions, Maisie reached out to Max and he did the same, trying to not to laugh. They adjusted themselves until their hands were flat against each other. “Lean towards me,” she whispered to him.

“Maisie, I don’t know-”

“Just do it,” she whispered, getting stressed that they were the only couple not doing it. He bent his arms leaning onto her. Maisie regretted her decision immediately. Her arms buckled, and Max pathetically fell into her body. Luckily, he had caught himself in time, but his head rested on her shoulder while his arms were wrapped low around her waist. Maisie tried not to laugh while holding him around his shoulders. While earning dirty looks from the instructor and other couples, Maisie giggled out a simple “Je suis désolé” before pushing Max up and helping him get into the next position.

The short elevator ride up to Maisie’s flat was silent at first, until Max asked, “Do you always do yoga?” Maisie had been on her phone, starting to take pictures of herself in the reflection on the elevator wall.

“Yeah, I found it as a good way to de-stress after I moved,” she explained. Max nodded, glancing to see how close they were to her floor. He looked back down at her, adjusting the camera or her face to grab a good picture.

He reached out pinching the apple of her cheek before smiling. “Beertje,” he cooed while the doors opened. She slapped his hand away with a smile.

“What does that mean?” she asked while walking toward her door.

“Little bear,” he responded. She looked at him weirdly, while unlocking her door. “Because you’re Russian, and they have bears there.”

“That is horribly stereotypical, Max,” they walked in, setting their stuff aside.

“You’ve never seen a bear?”

“Of course, I’ve seen a bear,” Maisie’s eyes rolled while she sat down on the couch. Max sat next to her, taking a deep breath. There was a moment of silence.

“Was the transition rough?” Max asked her. Maisie looked at him with her eyebrows strung in confusion. “Moving here from Russia?”

“I mean, yeah,” Maisie swallowed hard, her body tensing up with the idea of her life in Russia. “It was tough because I moved from somewhere where I pretty much had nothing to somewhere else where I had nothing.” Maisie played with the hem of her shirt. “It was hard to get on my feet when I didn’t have shoes in the first place.” She finally looked at Max.

“Would you ever move back?” he asked. She shook her head.

“There’s nothing for me back there,” He scanned between her eyes while she spoke. “You know, when I struggled with something, my mom used to tell me иммунная система растет с болезнью. The immune system strengthen with illness.”

“Okay,” Max smiled, not understanding her.

“I think you’re driving has a bit of cough right now,” she explained. “But, you’ve dealt with a cough once and your body know how to respond.” She leaned into him. “This pressure is just a runny nose. You’ve been world champion once and you can do it again.”

maxverstappen1

maxverstappen1 my little bear🐻🧸🤎

Taglist: @frenchyjuju @rosalysaoirse @honeybadger03 @readerselegance @prettybiching @kovalcin @justthatgirlxox @ln1504-blog @thatchickwiththecamera @fangirls94 @potterheadedavenger @lovingroscoee @sophierose463 @zxlla @bleedsweatccrycheer-blog @dr3lover @bleedsweatccrycheer-blog @darkice99 @maxxiemoo @miniminescapist

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mllechartreux · 2 years

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Catches you Reading Smut

Summary: Reading the nasty around them.

Content: Suggestive themes, very meta. Eren, Armin, Mikasa, Levi.

W/C: 1.5k

A/N: This was fun and cute to make, please enjoy!

Masterlist

Eren

Eren was sitting on the floor playing video games, his head resting between your legs on the couch. He had been playing Halo for the past hour while you scrolled through various social media sites before settling on reading fanfiction. Now while you weren’t specifically looking for smut, it was always a welcome bonus. In this one, the main character went home with the tattooist, and to top it all off, the tattooist was the tsundere type. Can you hear her purring? You squeezed your lips together to keep from squealing and smiling too hard, no other story could have scratched this itch better. You were scanning the screen, so engrossed in the hot, rough foreplay the characters were having you didn’t notice your thighs rubbing together. Well, it was assumed they were rubbing together.

“The hell, Y/N?” he was in the middle of a campaign and couldn’t look at you, but it didn’t matter, you barely acknowledged him.

“Right babe,” completely unaware your thighs were rubbing against his cheeks while your core sat like a furnace on the back of his neck. Your characters were finally getting to the pentrative sex part when you started reading the lines on your hands. This would’ve been cool if you knew palmistry, and if you weren’t reading dirty, filthy smut just a second ago. Your entire body except your head froze as you looked up to see Eren had paused the game and was reading the fanfiction under his breath.

“So what I’m getting from this is you’re so horny you have to read porn now too,”

“First of all, why are you snatching phones?” hoping your deflection would take, he chuckled darkly, it definitely didn’t take.

“No, no, no baby that's not what we’re talking about,” green eyes hungry with lust as they stared at your poorly concealed nervousness, “matter of fact, you got more of these?” he asked, waving your phone in the air.

“Yes,” you drawled, your breath getting shorter.

“Well, since you treated my head like a watermelon why don’t you read more of these to me, it’s the least you can do for giving me a headache.” You couldn’t decide whether to groan at how dramatic he was or agree obediently with where this was headed.

Mikasa

The two of you decided to do a cross country train ride. It was two weeks long, there were multiple stops and for some you even stayed in the city for a day, hotel included. The scenery was beautiful, the ambience calming, and the two of you were in bliss to be in each others’ company for such an extended amount of time. Currently, both of you were in the train sitting next to each other, and while she was occupied with painting Youtube videos, you were finishing a slow burn fanfic you’ve been savoring for the past 3 days. 26 chapters of ‘enemies to lovers’ goodness, filled with comedy, humiliation, and the teeniest bit of angst, and of course you can’t end an ‘enemies to lovers’ fic without smut. Your headphones were in, playing a playlist you had created the day you started reading this fic. So, the background music coupled with the heavily descriptive, sultry sex scene immersed you into its world, placing you as the main character. Next to you, your girlfriend was humming appreciatively at the different techniques and especially the cartoon inspired paintings. In one video, someone had drawn an impressively vivid portrait of the Steven Universe cast. Her mouth formed an ‘O’ as she watched the time-lapsed video, sweetly inspired to produce something similar.

“Love, do you think I could make this,” voice sweet and hopeful, yet still projecting down into her lap where she watched her phone. You didn’t hear her with your mind in the gutter and the bass booming in your ears from the slow, sensual song. When you didn’t answer she glanced over, noticing your eyes were slightly widened and the hand not on your phone was lifted to your face with your pinky nail in your mouth. Seeing you so concentrated piqued her curiosity, leaning into your side, her eyes drifted down to read what had you in such a daze. Your side warmed up and the hairs on the back of your neck tingled causing you to dart your eyes up to her face, looking like a deer in headlights. She continued to read for a moment before meeting your gaze and bringing a hand to your cheek, “I wish you would’ve told me earlier, we should share recs.”

Your face softened and a glint in your eye accompanied the sly smile peaking through.

Armin

You joined Armin in his dorm room claiming his presence would help you focus better on ‘studying’. He was sitting at his desk, turned away from you, looking down at his laptop. He was always so studious and attentive, sometimes too much, but he did hold you accountable when you really wanted to get something done. However, you were really there to focus on writing a smutty fic for a new character you were obsessed with. You probably should’ve been working on homework but you gotta get it while the inspiration is flowing and the motivation is motivating. It was a childhood friends to lovers fic with A/B/O dynamics. You didn’t write A/B/O often but when your breeding kink got the better of you, it was the only thing you could write. You were already 4k words in when it was supposed to be only 2k but you were flowing. You even caught yourself laughing at some parts, “Ooo now that’s good.”

“What’s good babe?” he asked absentmindedly.

“Just how easy it is to work with you around,” smiling at him, it wasn’t really a lie.

Armin had picked up on every time you made a comment, or flinched so hard you made a noise, or even the few times you squeaked. At first he didn’t put much thought into it, but he got suspicious when he figured you couldn’t be reacting this way towards a class you would've never given attention to if you weren’t here. He took a few peeks over at you lying on your stomach on his bed, finding it cute when your legs wiggled in the air. He didn’t really have a plan to find out what you were doing but it all worked out for him when you excused yourself to go to the bathroom. When you came back and saw him sitting on the bed with one hand on your laptop and the other resting on his bulge, you stilled. Without looking up, “I didn’t know you were so filthy starfish.”

Wrapping your arms around yourself you replied, “It tends to come out when I’m feeling… needy, do you like it?”

“I think you’re a genius, when you finish with it I’ll help you take care of your needs.”

Levi

Levi had noticed for the past couple of days you weren’t getting as much sleep, and he didn’t know why. You were starting to move slower, your dark circles and eyebags could be seen from a mile away and worst of all you were making simple mistakes. It was after 9pm when Levi found you in the kitchen, sweeping with a mop. He was too stunned to say anything at first but quickly snatched the mop from your hands and replaced it with a broom, furrowing his eyebrows, “There can’t possibly be a sane reason for sweeping with a mop.”

You smiled at him sheepishly, eyes droopy, mouth opening to answer before closing and going back to sweeping.

“Y/N.”

“You said there wasn’t a sane reason,” you replied, still sweeping, unbeknownst to yourself you had been sweeping the same spot for the past 3 minutes.

He snatched the broom from you, “Go get some sleep, you’re looking and acting shitty.”

You looked at him softly, giving him a peck on the cheek, “Eye eye captain,” making your way to your shared bedroom.

These past couple of nights you couldn’t bring yourself to fall asleep until after 3am, you were currently engrossed in a story about a bodyguard pining after their charge. At first the bodyguard hated their charge but feelings started to develop between the two until they could no longer contain their love, and lust, for each other. It was delicious, and it was so hard to put down at night so of course you woke up tired and slightly delirious. You would read during the day but you had so many responsibilities so you took to reading during the night, on the plus side Levi didn’t go to bed until 4am so you weren’t bothering him with your reading.

You sunk down beneath the covers and opened your phone ready to get a few more chapters in. An hour later, Levi walked into the bedroom expecting to see you sleeping or to help you if you were still awake. Thankfully you were asleep, laying on your side with your phone open and in your hand. He went to plug your phone into the charger when he caught a phrase on the screen, ‘tight hole’. He finished the chapter all while standing beside the bed before turning off your phone and plugging it up. He wondered how you would react if he recited such things to you, definitely determined to find out.

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piratesfromspace · 3 years

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Finance Management (Deckard Shaw/Reader)

Deckard Shaw (Fast & Furious) x Reader

Word count: 1.9k CW: mention of food & alcohol, smut

Female reader

Note: This short fic has been inspired by a friend of mine who created the character of the financial advisor of mister Shaw. Also there is not enough fics with Deckard Shaw so here we are.

Read on Ao3

MASTERLIST

“Mister Shaw, it’s me again, I’m so sorry but I really need you to call me back please. It’s important. Thank you.”

You let out a deep sigh as you hang up. Handling the finances of rich people is a lucrative and thrilling job, but damn it sometimes those clients of yours are annoying. Especially Mister Shaw.

First, he’s annoyingly busy and unreachable. Most powerful people are, but he can disappear for weeks on end without so much as sending an email.

Second, he’s also infuriatingly handsome and smart and funny. And he has an impeccable sense of style. He has nothing in common with the other clients of your firm, mainly old and boring men, whose only conversation subject is their money and how they hate their wives.

And finally, the worst thing about him is how good of a lover he is. You found out half a year ago, when you ended up in his bed after what should have been a regular business dinner. It was a mistake of course. One that could have cost you your career because it was a very serious breach of contract to sleep with a client.

You never told a soul, and you promised yourself to never do it again. But it was still hard to forget the feeling of him pressed against you, of his hands holding your waist, of his mouth between your thighs...

You try to focus again on your task and stretch your legs, kicking out your high heels. Feet bare on the soft carpet, you walk to the floor-to-ceiling window of your posh office, taking a second to admire the view, as the final rays of the sun disappear over the lake, and Geneva lights up under you. It’s breath-taking, really. But it also means you’re once again staying way too late at the office. Your assistant has gone home a couple hours ago, and your colleagues are either on vacation or on business trips, making you the only person on the building’s 7th floor. You still have a few things to finish so you plop on your leather chair and get back to work, hoping to make it home before 11pm.

That’s when you hear it: the familiar *ding* of the elevator’s door, at the end of the corridor. You tense immediately. You’re not waiting for anyone, and the security guards always use the stairs when completing their patrol.

Steps are coming down your way, and you grab your phone, ready to dial for the security team. And then you recognize his silhouette through the polished glass wall. There is a knock on your door before it opens to reveal Deckard Shaw himself. He’s wearing an expensive suit and an even more expensive watch, a very light stubble is highlighting his perfect jawbone and his deep grey eyes bear a mischievous glint. Handsome, as always.

“Mister Shaw…” you stammer.

“You know you can call me Deckard.” His stupidly sexy British accent and cocky smile will be the death of you.

He’s been in your office for two seconds and you already want to slap him in the face - or climb him like a tree, you can’t really decide.

“It’s quite late, Mister Shaw, you scared me. Anything I can do for you?” you insist on saying his family name, in a feeble attempt to maintain a professional façade.

“You needed to see me.” it’s more a comment than a question, and you’re suddenly reminded of the dozen of unanswered phone calls you made trying to reach him.

“Yes… yes, that’s right, but honestly you could have called tomorrow morning.”

“I’d rather see you in person.” he answers, looking you straight in the eyes. You can feel yourself blushing under his gaze. “Wanted to make sure you’re alright. You’re working too much you know.” he says with a soft smile, as his eyes drift down to your sore bare feet and then to the discarded heels under your desk.

What a condescending prick, you think. But at the same time, he’s right and his care seems somewhat genuine. It will not make you forget you almost lost your job because of him though.

“How did you know I was still here tonight?” you purposely redirect the attention on him, rather than you.

“Well, let’s say I would not leave the woman in charge of my assets without any... supervision.”

“Is that a polite way to say you’ve been spying on me?” you retort dryly.

“Oh I love when you’re getting all angry and snobbish, your French accent is even cuter.”

You’re gonna murder him. You really really want to tell him to go fuck himself, but he’s the one responsible for a very generous part of your paycheck, so you have to keep quiet.

“I would be more comfortable if we keep our conversation strictly professional, Mister Shaw.”

“Everything you want, dear.”

-----

“Mmph, fu-ck... Deckard, don’t stop”

The professional attitude has been long forgotten, since Deckard has pulled you onto his lap on the velvet couch of his presidential suite at the Four Seasons hotel, where you were supposed to only review the important documents he needed to see. But when the room service had brought a very nice bottle of Scotch, you knew you were screwed. You could not refuse a drink, and the warmth of alcohol combined with the warmth of his hand slightly brushing against your thigh had overcome all your resolve.

You are now sprawled on the king-size bed, moaning his name as Deckard Shaw is destroying your sanity very methodically. One foot on the floor, one leg bent on the edge of the bed, he’s pounding into you, holding your hip with one hand, and circling your clit with the other. His pace is calculated, not too fast so you can feel every inch of him, but not too slow so your nerves don’t have any respite, and it’s driving you crazy. Hands tangled in the dark silk sheets beneath you, you try to catch your breath to no avail.

“I won’t stop darling. Not until I can feel you coming again all over me.” His voice is like heavy honey, dripping all over your senses, drowning you in sweet and sinful promises.

You want to close your eyes to focus on the overwhelming feelings, but the view in front of you is too good to be missed. He looks like some demi-god, bathed in the subdued light of the room, broad and muscular chest, abs perfectly drawn. What is his job again? You vaguely remember him talking about serving a few years in the military when he was younger, but he is still definitely hitting the gym on a regular basis.

His muscles flex when he brings you down on his thick cock a little more sharply than before, and you keen as he hits that perfect spot inside of you. You can feel your orgasm build again, and so can he.

“You’re close, princess, aren’t you?”

You mewl in response and he chuckles darkly, keeping up with his ruthless assault on your most sensitive parts. He angles his fingers just a bit differently on your clit, and keeps thrusting into you, stretching you so perfectly you can’t remember the last time someone fucked you this good - wait , actually you can, it was a few months ago and it was by mister Deckard “annoyingly perfect” Shaw.

“Come on, I know you want to, I’ll keep going until you give me one more anyway princess…”

And that's it. You’re gone. Back arching off the bed, you come hard, harder than the first time, clenching around him. You barely hear him hiss in pleasure as you spasm helplessly on the soft sheets, the silk feeling almost cool against your burning skin.

----

“Good morning darling."

You open an eye, natural light is flooding the room, as is the delicious smell of fresh coffee and tea. At the foot of the bed, you spot a room service trolley loaded with breakfast treats and through the open door of the bathroom, you can see Deckard is looking at you in the mirror reflection while buttoning a crisp white shirt.

"Your tea is ready. Black, no milk, right?”

He's right and it's annoying because is there anything this man messes up?

"What time is it?" You ask, suddenly remembering you have a busy schedule today.

"You have 27 minutes to eat and get ready, so I can drop you off at your office in time for your first call of the day."

He knows about your tea preferences and your professional agenda, of course he does , he was not joking when mentioning the whole "spying-on-you" situation, or "supervision" as he liked to call it. He needs to stop it, but you decide to keep this discussion for another day.

You stretch, and rise to put on the hotel bathrobe, sighing at the thought of having to wear the same clothes as yesterday. Last you saw them, they were scattered on the floor all over the room and your underwear were positively ruined.

"The concierge was very helpful this morning, thanks to him I got you a few clothes delivered for today." Deckard adds as he pours himself a cup of coffee from the cart and gestures to the leather armchair where a couple of bags doning logos of luxury brands are perched.

You make your way to the packages, and open the first one to reveal a sophisticated dress, fitted and sexy, but not too much that it would be inappropriate as office wear. The second bag is a thoughtful selection of high end make-up products. And the last one contains a gorgeous set of lacy lingerie, nothing too raunchy but sexy nonetheless. Of course everything is in the right size.

"Thank you..." you whisper, a little stunned. The assortment must have cost him a couple grands at the very least - not that he can't afford it because you're well placed to be sure he can, but still, he did not have to do this.

You have to suppress a smile, because damn he's being annoyingly perfect once more, but you don't want to give him the satisfaction to reveal he was right when promising you could stay the night instead of going home and still look fresh for your day at work.

"I was thinking, I'm free tonight, so maybe we can finally review those documents, you know the ones you were supposed to show me before you jumped on me on the couch last night?" Deckard states as he bites in an apple in front of the window, casually looking at lake Geneva glinting in the bright morning sun.

You blush unwillingly, struggling to find a reply that would save you from admitting you had failed at enforcing your usual work ethic.

"I'm kidding dear!" He barks in a laugh. "I know enough to trust you on this venture, you have my approval to go on with the investment." He continues more seriously.

You open your mouth to answer but he's quicker.

"I'm not kidding about being free though, so what about dinner and then we can see where this takes us…"

When you don't answer immediately, he turns to look at you. Maybe he's realizing the situation can be awkward and precarious for you since you're technically working for him.

"You can say no, I won't take any offense." He adds without irony.

"Yes..." You finally answer, tip toeing toward him until you can snatch the apple he was eating from him. He protests but you shush him.

"...Yes, I would like this very much..."

As he starts to protest again, you take a big bite from the fruit with a knowing smile.

"...but only for dinner. Nothing more."

"You'll be the death of me." Deckard says, falsely irritated, his voice dropping lower.

"At least the feeling is mutual, mister Shaw ..."

#deckard shaw #deckard shaw x reader #female reader #fast and furious #hobbs and shaw #deckard shaw fanfiction #hobbs and shaw fanfiction #deckard shaw / reader #jason statham #jason statham imagine #smut #hobbs and shaw smut #deckard shaw reader insert #fast and furious fanfiction

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evelxtus · 3 years

Text

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠‧₊› kaeya, childe x gn! reader. (separately.)

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲‧₊› you've spent the day with them, and ended up in your house watching movies. now it's late and it's time for them to say goodbye, although you don't really wanna be alone for the rest of the night...

𝐒𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞‧₊› fluff scenarios.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬‧₊› a slight dirty-minded kaeya, dw all fluff later!!

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞‧₊› soft kaeya and childe for the win!! hope yall like this💓 req and asks open!!

Anyone who saw you might think you both are a couple. That wasn't the case, but it seemed like it at times. After all, they had never seen Kaeya spend so much time with one person. Nothing more and nothing less than the entire day.

Kaeya gives up the day because you are already sleepy after watching a film at your house. It's no longer the place for Kaeya to stay there, is it?

He gets up off the couch, causing you to lie on it by letting you fall onto your side. Kaeya turns, a small smile is drawn on his face, hopelessly dazzled by the tenderness of your sleepy face. He doesn't even know if you're still lucid, so he opts for a short goodbye.

“Sweet dreams, y/n. Today was a nice day.” after those words, he turned with the intention of heading to the door, but something stopped him. You had reached out your hand and held Kaeya's with a weak grip. “Wait.” you murmur. The boy looks at you curiously, kneeling to be at your height, wrapping both of his hands around yours.

“Tell me. Need anything from me before I go, hm?” he asked in a lower tone. Your hand moved a little under his touch, causing Kaeya to grab it a little more firmly, wondering whether to move his thumb and caress you or just stay still.

“Please stay tonight... I want to be with you longer...” you opened your eyes, your face flushed directly at the sight of Kaeya, who was a little too close. He raised his eyebrows and parted his lips at your words. “Oh? Is that some kind of indecent proposition?”

The heat on your cheeks increased considerably, and Kaeya noticed it, proceeding to chuckle. “N-no! I just want your company... but you don't have to if you want to leave.” You wanted to hide your face, but he kept holding your hand as if he strategically knew that was going to happen. “There, there. I understood you perfectly fine, it's just that I find it quite amusing to tease you.”

You frowned with a cute little pout. Kaeya finally released your hand, now running it through your hair, burying his slender fingers between the strands of your hair, a genuine and unconscious affectionate expression on his face while doing it. “You look pretty cute when you blush.” he admitted, lips curved on a soft smile. “Kae... N-not funny...” you stammered, so nervous that you couldn't form a complete sentence without stuttering. His heart melting everytime you speak with that cute mouth of yours.

“I've stopped teasing you a while ago.”

You haven't seen Childe this happy for a long time. I mean, really happy. And what you did was nothing more than spend the whole day together, a while fishing, another time looking at the clouds, relaxing in the sun. He would leave the training and the fights for another day, today he was completely dedicated to you.

At night, after finishing a movie together at your house, both of you were quite tired, especially you. While you were yawning, Childe got up from the couch. “Well, y/n. Will we repeat this day soon?” he started his goodbye, tilting his head to look at you. You lowered your gaze, eyebrows arched in disgust. You didn't want him to leave yet, his company... felt very different when you two were alone. It was so nice... you didn't want it to end yet. “y/n? Something wrong?”

You shrugged your shoulders. How were you supposed to say something like that to him? “It's nothing” you lied, and he wasn't an idiot. Obviously something was going through your mind. “Of course. Come on, tell me. Whatever it is, tell me.” Childe flopped down on the couch next to you again. “Aw, don't keep me waiting...”

You sighed resignedly. “It's just... I don't want you to go yet.” you settled into your place embarrassed, refusing to look at the boy next to you. He was silent, and your heart began to beat rapidly, wondering if it would've been better to keep your mouth shut.

“... really?” you finally glanced at him after his words, a soft pink adorned his cheeks and his eyes were wide with surprise. You nodded in response to his question “Why were you so scared to tell me? Come here.” he extended one of his arms in your direction, inviting you to lie on his chest.

“I don't know, maybe it sounds strange or uncomfortable for you.” you commented, resting your head on his shoulder and your hand on his chest. You could feel that the boy was also a little nervous.

He let out a laugh as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “Well, thank goodness you don't read thoughts.”

Because of course he wants to stay with you, and not just for one night. He loves your company, loves feeling you close, loves the peace you bring to him. Basically, loves you whole. Didn't you notice it already?

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aetheternity · 3 years

Text

When their meeting is about to start but they can't get their erection to go away.

Sprays the minors be gone spray

Warning: (Fem reader) In this scenario you have been in a sexual on again off again relationship with these guys individually. You're not dating them. The guys have all tried masturbation before coming to you. Also mommy kink for everyone except Levi.

Armin

Poor thing has been hard since he woke up which was about four hours ago.

He runs into your room almost slamming open the door.

"Mommy, please.. I can't make it go away."

He almost cries when he slips inside. The pain in his balls eased a bit as he wraps his fingers in the blankets.

Mouth open as he lets every noise out unabashedly.

He can't even begin to be ashamed of his noises when your wet cunt continually sucks him in.

"You're so hard baby." You moan as you tug him in close, running your hands over his undercut and through his hair. "What were you thinking about?"

"I wasn't being bad mommy, I promise.. I-I just-" He gasps as he sheaths himself all the way inside. Barely pulling out for each thrust.

Pretty blue eyes rolling towards the sky.

"Hmm?"

"I woke up hard and.. I tried to go back to sleep but it got so painful.."

You kiss his pretty red lips coaxing them out from where he's biting them.

Your legs stay spread for every rough pound of his hips. His cock pressed impossibly deep.

"I need you." He whines "I need you so much."

The ache inside him slowly being released.

"You're gonna make me cum.." He whimpers

You cover his mouth with your hand. His face impossibly red as his eyes finally flutter open.

Blue doe eyes filled with tears that quickly begin to trickle down his cheeks.

"Finish baby. You're such a good boy. Don't moan too loud ok? Let it stay our secret."

When he cums inside you his hips stutter and his screams are covered by your hands.

"That's it, good job baby." You moan back arched for him.

When you release him he inhales sharply letting out one last gasp as he fills you up.

"Mommy there's so much.." He heaves

"Hurry and get to your meeting ok?"

"Ok. I'll be back later to properly thank you." He says tongue curving over his lips.

He takes one more second to stare at his cum where it's flowing down to your ass and he almost gets hard again.

Waits until there's like 10 minutes left before the meeting starts.

Eren

Partially because he thought he could manage to get rid of it before then and partially because he was worried you wouldn't be up this early.

He just kinda awkwardly shuffles around until you notice the very obvious bulge in his pants.

When he does finally go to you he's glad to see you awake.

"I.. it won't fuck off." He grunts

The second you wrap your hands around his cock he lets out the deepest groan throwing his head back. And when it slides inside..

His soul almost escapes him.

"Mommy.." He grunts

You need a couple seconds to adjust even though it hasn't been that long since he last fucked you.

When he finally gets going he's so rough but slow as if he doesn't have a meeting to get to.

His hips pressed right up against your inner thighs and pelvis.

"Baby speed up." You gasp softly "You need to cum so you can get to that meeting."

"I know.. but fuuucckk."

He's absolutely losing his mind.

He's got the bed slamming into the wall, hands making permanent marks where they're squeezing around your waist.

Starts fucking your tight cunt a little harder when you start to sound breathless.

At some point he's pushing both your knees forward into the pillows using that leverage to fuck you so deep you can barely breathe.

He growls into every kiss he plants on your lips.

His cock pounding your g-spot so roughly you've started crying.

Starts to shake when he gets close.

His hands slipping from the backs of your knees to right next to your head.

"God.. fuck!" He huffs, cum painting your insides. "Shit.." He groans in your ear.

You can't even speak too focused on trying to catch your breath.

Veins dark where they show up in his knuckles.

Mouth hung agape as he pulls his now limp cock out.

Gives you a sweet kiss before he leaves.

"Thank you mommy." He smirks at your blissful expression.

Jean

"Help me? Please?"

Doesn't wait as long as Eren and Armin.

Probably around 15 minutes of stroking himself to zero effect before he's coming to you.

"What's the magic word, love?"

"..Mommy."

Has your legs wrapped around his waist. His cock mixing your insides and you can't help but let every sinful noise spill from your throat as he does.

Simultaneously kissing you and playing with your nipples

He's fucking you like you're his girlfriend and he doesn't have a meeting to go to.

"Jean, baby.. you gotta hurry."

Even you don't want him to hurry. Or stop.

"I promise I'll get to my meeting on time I just wanna spend as much time as I can here with you mommy."

Rubs your cheek in circular motions with his thumb when you sob over his pace.

Spreads his legs and presses as deep as he can with a hand on your stomach until you're whimpering on every thrust.

"You feel so fucking good mommy. So good, please keep squeezing my cock."

Till you're cumming around his cock.

Has you moaning his name and arching your back.

Only then does he actually speed up and give in to his need to cum.

Deep moans of mommy falling off his lips onto yours.

Every bit of your pussy full of him till his name is the only word you remember.

He wraps his arms around your shoulders. Keeping himself deep as he empties every drop of his load inside.

He stays in you for almost too long just giving you kisses all over your face and hands.

Whines your name in between little mentions of gratitude

Honestly you're a little sad to see him go.

Finally pulls out and gets dressed.

Connie

"I kept thinking about the mission tomorrow and that kept me up most of the night. Then I started thinking about you and that kept me hard the other half." He laughs

Abuses the fact that he can ask you for sex and you'll almost always say yes.

But it's more because it's you than because he's constantly after sexual pleasure.

Just a little. 🤏

You know because the first time you let him hit was surprising but the 45th time he's still in shock but he's adoring every second he gets to climb in your bed and touch every bit of your skin.

Bites his lip a little when he slips in balls deep.

Only because he loves the fact that it's you more than the fact that he can get off with someone.

As soon as it hits morning and he knows you're awake he's pulling himself out of bed.

"Shit.. mommy this is what I needed." His eyes roll back as he penetrates you from below.

Cock twitching inside with every thrust.

Somehow still manages to smirk and flirt with you while groaning in between each word.

"Mommy, you never deny me.. might as well tell me you're in love with me."

You snort, "Cum already so you can go to your meeting."

"I'll cum when you tell me you love me."

He tries he really does but he's getting so close and the way you're squeezing his cock just isn't fair.

Profanity flying from his lips when you slam your hips down using your knees as leverage.

"God mommy please.." He begs reaching out for your waist.

He lifts himself up latching his tongue to one nipple while his free hand is cupping your breast.

Groans low in his throat when he cums. His eyes fluttering shut

Whispers of fuck and goddammit cresting off his lips.

His cock twitching against your walls. The feeling making you bite your lip.

"You take such good care of me mommy." He cooes

He leans into your ear, "What if I just stayed here and fucked you all day?"

"Go to your meeting!" You huff, getting off of him.

He finally leaves when you give him a silent glare.

Levi

Walks into your bedroom without so much as a knock and locks the door.

He waits it out for almost 3 hours before finally going to you with all his pent up frustration.

He wants it to go away on its own so bad.

"What's up with you this morning?" You laugh as he tosses your panties aside haphazardly.

He doesn't need to answer his dick print speaks for itself.

Thrusts all the way inside with no warning.

Like Eren he has your feet in the air, knees pressed into the sheets.

You wanna tease him so bad for being this hard and a little loud this early in the morning but his cock feels like it's in your stomach.

You can only keep your head back, noises spilling off your lips with every thrust.

Eyes coasting north when he slams into your sweet spots.

Keeps fucking into you like you're his little toy. Simultaneously rough and gentle.

Angles his hips in a specific way to hear you scream and then mutters for you to be quiet.

Groans when your nails dig into his back.

Eventually he lets your legs go, allowing them to wrap around his waist as he finally picks a pace.

His thrusts so hard you can hear small clatters from the wood under the mattress hitting the floor.

And you're clenching around him so tight.

Screaming his name along with every curse word known to man.

He lets out a long drawn out moan as he fills your tight pussy with every bit of pent up frustration he possesses in all 160 cm of himself.

And surprisingly it's a lot.

And finally he's letting you go with a chaste kiss to your lips.

"Good girl." He whispers, thumb coaxing strands of your hair off your cheeks.

Meanwhile your heart beat is slamming against your rib cage so loud you're sure you'll bust.

You probably have shit to do today too but after that you just wanna go back to sleep.

#aot x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #levi ackerman x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #jean krischtein x reader #armin arlert x reader #connie x reader #aot imagines #aot scenario #aot smut #levi ackerman smut #eren yeager smut #armin smut #jean kirschtein smut #connie springer smut

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majestyeverlasting · 3 years

Note

Could you do prompts 43 and 47 with fatws!bucky x reader? Thank you 😊

♡ Sure! Thank you for sending this request in, I appreciate your patience! These are quite the compatible prompts, and I tried my best to approach them in the most unique way I could manage. To give a summary as to what happens: Bucky and the reader attend a banquet in Washington D.C., but it isn't until afterwards that things take a peculiar turn as the result of a forgotten tube of lipstick. There's lots of cute moments and a little bit of a scare (but that's nothing a nice soak won't be able to ease away). Enjoy!

♡ Prompt 43: "Let me help you."

♡ Prompt 47: "Please let me take care of you, you’re bleeding.”

Remember the Good Parts

All around, there was dancing, talking, and laughter. Formality had been abandoned so that inhibitions could be released. The banquet hall of the hotel seemed elegant enough to have been fit for kings and queens. The paneling of the walls were trimmed with gold and each of the round tables were dressed in white cloth, floral centerpieces sitting in the middle. Hanging above it all were the most beautiful chandeliers. The crystals adorning them sparkled as if they were stars stolen from the night sky.

The invitation had been addressed to both you, and Bucky. Upon opening it, you learned that The Smithsonian Institute wanted to express their gratitude to the donors and sponsors who had shown continued support over the years. Especially in light of the new exhibits coming to the National Air and Space Museum. The evening itself was intended to be a time of meaningful dialogue and celebration.

The two of you didn’t hesitate to RSVP. Not only would it make for a well-deserved weekend trip, but was an opportunity to venture back to D.C. after being away from quite some time.

What came as a pleasant surprise that night was the moment in which you managed to coax Bucky up to dance. Not one word of protest escaped him as you led the way to where others had congregated and were moving to the rhythm of the music. A more relaxed song had started flowing throughout the room as the festivities were drawing closer to an end. You wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled when he placed his hands on your waist, squeezing gently.

“This has been nice,” he said.

You nodded. “It has.”

Part of you still hadn’t gotten over the way he’d cleaned up for the occasion. The dark strands of his hair were getting longer, and he’d gelled them back lightly. And the all black suit he wore made his blue eyes appear even bolder. After the two of you had been swaying for a while, you spoke again, “You know what I think?”

Bucky’s eyes flickered to your lips. You wore a rich, burgundy lipstick that complemented your dress and complexion. “What?” He encouraged.

“We ought to take a nice, warm bath when we get back up to our suite,” you thought aloud. “The tub is worlds bigger than the one we have at home.” Your fingers had begun to gently scratch at the nape of his neck.

He hummed. “That already sounds like a dream.” Then he leaned in to kiss you. It was short and as tender as the music in the air.

The event eventually did wind to its end. A Smithsonian spokesperson went to the main podium and made closing remarks about the importance of living in a way worthy of being remembered. It earned her a hearty round of applause and a few high-pitched whistles. Minutes later, attendees were filing out of the hall in a steady flow, some turning around to capture a final picture of the grandeur space. You and Bucky left right along with them, arms locked.

Nobody else was in the hallway when the two of you exited the elevator onto your floor. It was a long, empty stretch lined with warm lights. Taking advantage of that, you paced a few steps ahead of him and did a twirl as you walked—in a sleek pair of block heels, no less. The bottom of your dress caught the air in a graceful flow. When you looked back at him over your shoulder, he was shaking his head but his eyes were filled with adoration.

The first thing you did upon entering the suiet was go sit on the bed to take your shoes off. But Bucky spoke up, “Let me help you, pretty girl.” So one at a time, you raised your legs for him and watched the careful way he unbuckled your heels.

You smiled when he finished. “Thanks.”

“Mhm.”

That’s when you noticed the faint hint of pigment that your lipstick had left behind on him. “Hey, lean in for a second, Buck.” He obliged without question. You were still sitting on the edge of the bed. “There’s some…” You ran your thumb over his lower lip a few times.

“Lipstick?” He finished.

“Yeah—I got most of it off,” you said.

“It's a nice shade on you, by the way,” he said. "Very classy."

“Isn't it? I bought it a few days ago.” You dug into your purse in search of the tube, but it was gone. “Uh-oh.”

Bucky had begun to take off his suit jacket. “What?”

“I think I set it on the table just before we left the banquet... When I was looking for the card to our room.” A huff of air passed through your lips. “It’s probably been thrown away by now.”

He was quiet for a beat. “Not necessarily,” he said as he walked to hang up the jacket. “I can run back down and see.”

“Do you mind?”

“It’s no trouble,” he assured. “I’ll be right back. And then we can get to that bath you proposed earlier.” The wink he shot you on the way out made you bite back a smile.

I'll be right back, you replayed his words. But it came to the point when he'd been gone longer than what seemed necessary. That prompted you to peek your head out the door. All you were met with was the same long hallway, but with three strangers strolling down it. More time passed, and you found yourself on the bed again, preparing to call him.

A gentle knock on the door broke the stillness.

Bucky stood on the other side, a slender cut running across his left cheek a short ways beneath his eye. It wasn’t too bad, but blood had been drawn nonetheless. Before you could make an exclamation capable of disturbing the other guests, he slipped past you to get into the suite. It wasn’t until the door was closed that you attempted to vocalize the mix of concern and confusion swirling within your mind.

“Bucky!” Your eyes followed him.

“M'fine, doll,” he insisted.

“What in the world happened?” His slight frustration was evident in the way he resumed undressing as if nothing had occurred. “Hold on, baby, wait. Seriously.”

Bucky froze and looked directly into your eyes. You decided to use an even softer tone. “Just… Please let me take care of you, you’re bleeding.” You hoped your gaze was conveying your sincerity. On your way to move closer to him, you grabbed a couple tissues and folded them. A soft exhale left him when you pressed them to the cut, gently applying pressure to stop the bleeding. Neither of you spoke for a while.

Finally, he said, “Two guys brought an outside scuffle into the lobby. Nobody else was stepping in to break it up so I did.”

You lowered the tissues from his face. Due to the accelerated healing rate of his body and the size of the wound, the bleeding had already begun to subside. “And you got cut in the process?”

He nodded. “One of them had something sharp. Didn't really catch what it was,” he recounted. “And I didn’t wanna hurt them, so I couldn’t just flat-out tear them apart from each other.” His voice was low as he continued to speak. “But I was able to get 'em to stop. Some security guards showed up after the fact.”

You shook your head, briefly stepping away to dispose of the tissues. “I wonder why they were fighting in the first place.”

Bucky moved to sit on the bed, shrugging. “I don’t know, but it turns out they know each other pretty well. Apparently they’d just come back from a bar.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

With a small smile on your face, you went to go stand between his legs, looking down at his handsome features. The red cut stood out. "I'm glad it wasn't worse. Are you gonna need Band-Aid or something?"

He chuckled. "I'll live—check this out, though." he dug into his pants pocket and pulled out your lipstick. "Mission accomplished."

"My hero," you teased as you took it from him. There was a comfortable silence for a few beats. "What a night, huh?"

Bucky ran his hands over your hips. "I say we seal it with a good soak and only remember the good parts."

A laugh bubbled up out of you. "Deal," you agreed, starting to undo the buttons of his shirt.

Thanks for reading! Masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan #winter soldier #tfaws bucky #fatws bucky #marvel #marvel fic #tfaws fic

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yoongiseesawmp3 · 3 years

Text

just about perfect - seonghwa

howdy folks, back with another fic but i’m switching it up on ya! i might start writing regularly for ateez as well so y’all are cool with that right? right.

summary: this is NOT inspired by seonghwa saying he watches nevertheless. why would you even think that.

warnings: not the kind of warning u were expecting but there’s no smut (i know its based off a show abt friends with benefits so that’s why i’m warning u. do not get ur hopes up) a little cussing, a lotta me waxing poetic abt the perfect man park seonghwa. also slight tomfoolery from the teezers

word count: 10.6k

the bookstore just off campus is your current go-to study spot, mostly because the cafe inside has a drink special where you buy one coffee and get a voucher for the new bakery next door. so, let’s just say the past few days you’ve been well caffeinated and well fed. you’re on the way there now, already planning out what your treats are going to be.

today you were supposed to meet your “study group” after your last class of the day, but it looks like you’re the only one here so far. and you say “study group” loosely, the professor for your music theory elective encouraged everyone to make a study group for the upcoming final and your group of friends chose to work together. there’s been no studying going on, though.

especially not when hongjoong’s new friend seonghwa has been flirting with you literally nonstop. he’s apparently friends with everyone else in your group too. san knows him from an art class they took together last semester, meanwhile wooyoung and yeosang claim they lived on seonghwa’s floor freshman year and he always bought them booze. seonghwa denies it, only because hongjoong would slap him if he admitted to buying alcohol for underage kids.

tasteful delinquency aside, seonghwa is a fine person. you mean personality fine, not like, fine fine even though san would beg to differ. he knows you’ve developed a thing for seonghwa despite trying not to, and he’s secretly trying to get you two together.

which is why san suddenly texts you and says he can’t make it, and neither can yeosang or wooyoung. they decided to ditch studying to practice for the final in their dance class instead, so it’ll be just you, seonghwa and hongjoong. and little did you know, hongjoong was trying to do the same thing as san. so we’ll see how this goes.

“y/n, you can’t do that,” hongjoong warns you, referring to the scale you were trying to fill out.

“why not?” you ask, looking down at your work and wondering what’s wrong.

“because it’ll sound like shit,” seonghwa replies before sipping his coffee.

“what he said,” hongjoong agrees, grabbing your paper and erasing some of the notes you had scribbled out. “it should look more like this.”

you glance over at what he’s done on top of your old work and sigh. you took this class because you like music, and you thought learning about how it works would be interesting, but it’s hard.

“can’t you just do all my work for me?” you plead. at this rate, you don’t think you’ll be able to pass the final.

“no, i don’t want you dragging me down in this class,” hongjoong replies. “my grades are great.”

“i hate you.”

“what are you struggling with, y/n?” seonghwa asks as he finally looks up from his laptop. he had been working on an assignment for another class this whole time because he, like hongjoong, is great with music theory. so maybe this study group was a good thing.

“here, you can switch seats with me,” hongjoong says as he clears the spot next to you on the weathered loveseat. “i’m going to look for a book i should’ve started reading two weeks ago.”

before you can protest, seonghwa is sliding his laptop across the coffeetable and slides himself into the spot next to you. when he sits you notice your thighs are touching, which is weird because there was plenty of space when hongjoong was here. you don’t know that seonghwa is doing this on purpose, that hongjoon really left so he could flirt with the cute cashier in the cafe to give you and seonghwa some alone time.

“so,” seonghwa starts once he’s settled. “what are you struggling with?”

“hmm, all of it?” you reply. your answer makes seonghwa smile, and you like the way his eyes sparkle when he does.

“then i guess we’ll be here a while.”

about an hour later, seonghwa has walked you through all the major and minor scales you need to know for the test and you’re starting to understand a little more. you’re still having problems with the back of the study guide where you have to come up with note combinations that can apply to those scales, but you have time to work on that since the final is two weeks out. right now, your brain is fried and you need a break.

“do you mind if i go get a coffee?” you ask seonghwa, who was in the middle of sending you the minor scale cheat sheet he made. he looks up from his laptop and shakes his head before he speaks.

“i would only mind if i can’t come with you.”

“it’s literally right over there, why do you need to come with me?” you question.

“i think i would just miss you too much,” he pouts, and you roll your eyes. seonghwa shuts his laptop and stands up. “what if i need coffee too?”

“you already had one,” you remind him as you stand.

“yeah,” he nods. “but teaching you is exhausting, so i need another. c’mon.”

he walks ahead of you to the counter, and you’re too busy searching for your wallet to notice he took his jacket off, revealing a sneaky tattoo on the back of his neck. it isn’t until you’re behind him in line that you get a look at the hand drawn star right on the nape of his neck, and you have to refrain from reaching out to trace the lines.

“i didn’t know you had a tattoo,” you decide to say. he turns around and instinctively rubs his hand across the tattoo, smiling at you with those sparkly eyes again.

“yeah, i have a couple,” he replies. “but this one is my favorite.”

“why?”

“because my name means ‘to become a star’, so i like knowing that i have a reminder with me all the time,” he explains.

“nice. it’s really pretty.”

“thanks, so are you.”

“sir?” the barista calls, pulling seonghwa’s attention from you. he steps up to give his order as you stare at the tattoo again, noticing alongside it a couple of freckles that almost make it look like a constellation.

“y/n?” seonghwa’s voice draws you out of your thoughts and you realize he’s finished ordering. “what do you want?”

“oh, i can get it,” you begin, but he cuts you off.

“no, my treat,” he insists, and you sheepishly walk up to the counter to give your order. seonghwa makes a mental note of what you get, and he also snatches the bakery voucher from you before you can put it in your pocket. you make a confused sound and seonghwa laughs.

“why’d you do that?” you whine.

“you only get to use it if you come with me to the bakery later,” he teases. “say yes or i’m drinking your coffee and getting myself an extra cupcake.”

“fine,” you huff. “but i have an assignment due at midnight, so i can’t stay long.”

“it’s 4pm, that’s not enough time for you to finish it?” he asks while you step out of the way for the next customers.

“i haven’t started yet,” you admit.

“you like saving things until the last minute, don’t you?”

“what makes you say that?”

“well, it looks like you haven’t been studying music theory at all, and now this,” he shrugs.

“not everybody can be perfect like you, park seonghwa,” you grumble as the barista places two coffee cups on the bar. you hear seonghwa giggle shortly, and you give him a questioning look.

“so you think i’m perfect?” he smirks.

it’s the next day, almost midnight, and you really need spray paint.

why? well, you’re stressed because you have so much to study for your finals and you don’t know where to start. yes, seonghwa helped yesterday, but he’s not in all your other classes, so you’ve decided you need a break from tearing your hair out over the material you can’t comprehend. the best way to distract yourself from that is to finally paint that dresser you got from a garage sale a few months ago, hence the spray paint.

thankfully, san is still awake, and he has a car, so you ask him to pick you up for a quick run to the art supply store that’s surprisingly still open. a bonus of going to college in the city, you can get anything almost whenever you need it.

“thanks for coming to get me,” you tell san as you hop into his car.

“no problem,” he replies. “i was bored and hongjoong said he needed paint pens so this is a win-win situation. plus, i get to hear about your date with seonghwa yesterday.”

“it was not a date,” you groan, choosing to ignore the suggestive way san is looking at you right now.

“but you spent the whole afternoon together,” san starts. “he bought you coffee and you went to the bakery together and talked about, like, your favorite colors and stuff. sounds like a date to me.”

“how do you know all that?”

“seonghwa told hongjoong and then hongjoong told me,” he explains as he turns onto the street that’ll take you to the art store.

“well tell hongjoong that i’m still mad at him for ditching us,” you reply. “and i’m still kinda mad at you and the other two for bailing in the first place.”

“hey, if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have had your first date with seonghwa,” san points out.

“it was not a date!” you cry. “we studied most of the time we were together, then he bought my coffee and bullied me into going to the bakery. i couldn’t stay long because i had a paper to write, so we talked about stupid shit until i had to leave.”

“it sounds like the beginning of true love to me,” san sing-songs.

“stop the car, i’ve decided to walk.”

when you get to the store, san separates from you quickly because he sees his friend mingi behind the counter. they’re busy talking while you search the store for the paints, and you’re so busy looking up at the aisle names that you don’t notice you’re about to run into someone.

“hey-” you start to complain, but you recognize the man you almost bumped into. “oh, seonghwa.”

“y/n,” he smiles at you. “what are you doing out so late?”

“uh, distracting myself from how small my brain is,” you explain. “what are you doing here?”

“hongjoong needed paint pens,” he says, and you’re about two seconds away from finding san and slapping him. did they really plan this too?

“why didn’t he come get them?” you ask as you remember what you’re here to find. your eyes scan the aisle behind seonghwa and you spot the paint cans at the end, but he’s in your way.

“i offered,” he says with a shrug.

“you must be a really good friend, then.”

“well you did call me perfect yesterday, so...” he trails off, smirking. you roll your eyes at him but can’t help the blush creeping up your neck. he interrupts his new favorite activity of staring deeply into your eyes (just to fluster you, of course) and he sees that you’re looking past him at the shelves of paint. “you need something down here?”

“um, yeah, the spray paint,” you reply, awkwardly trying to skirt around him to get into the aisle. he steps aside to let you through, but still follows you as you search for the color you want.

“what are you making?”

“i’m painting a scuffed up dresser i’ve had for a while, so i want something simple that’ll go with the rest of the things in my room,” you explain as you stop walking and crane your neck to scan the bottles on the top shelf. seonghwa stops behind you and places his hand on the small of your back as he reaches for a can just out of your reach.

“what about this one?” he offers, handing you a can of light blue paint. it’s really pretty, and it’ll stand out with the white furniture you already have, but you really like it.

“oh, that’s perfect!” you say as you take the can from his hands.

“there you go again,” seonghwa teases, and you shoot him a questioning look. he smiles as he responds. “calling me perfect?”

“i said the paint was perfect, weirdo,” you snap. “but thank you for finding this.”

“anytime,” he tells you. “you said your favorite color was blue right?”

“right...” you mumble, thinking back to the conversation you had at the bakery yesterday. “how’d you remember?”

“ugh, i’m hurt!” he exclaims, hand flying to his chest in mock surprise. “i can’t believe you already forgot that it’s my favorite color too.”

“hm, guess i was too distracted by how perfect you are,” you joke. seonghwa laughs at that, a sharp sound that seemed to catch him off guard. he covers his mouth to stifle the sound, but you’re close enough to the cash register now that it draws attention from san and mingi.

“find what you need?” san asks with a shit eating grin.

“hm, just about,” you say as you place the paint on the counter. “couldn’t find a hammer big enough to drop on your head, though.”

“wow, harsh,” san scoffs. “and to think i brought you here out of the goodness of my heart.”

you’re too busy half-bickering with san to notice that seonghwa has paid for your paint and the pens he promised hongjoong. he mumbles something to mingi, who then hands him a piece of paper. he scribbles his number down for you before handing you the can and his number.

“i gotta go, but i’ll see you later for study group, right?” he confirms. you’re still processing the fact that he keeps buying things for you and you can’t respond in time, so san steps in.

“yeah, y/n will be there,” san assures seonghwa. he nods and shoots you one last smile before he excuses himself and leaves. you’re stuck with san and that stupid grin again. he looks at you and then checks the paper with seonghwa’s number on it. “yep, i think you got what you needed.”

even though seonghwa very willingly gave you his number, you’re still afraid to text him. it’s kind of hard to believe that he’s into you the way you’re into him, so you’re fine with just seeing him for study dates. or, uh, not study dates. study gatherings. with just the two of you. because the other guys have bailed, again.

this time, though, you’re not working on music theory. you have an assignemnt due for your ethics class, and you need family and friends to read about your results from this morals test. you wanted san to do it, but he’s currently “chasing a sweet piece of ass,” whatever that means. he’s probably bothering his lab partner that he claims descended from greek gods. you would usually tease him for saying something like that, but it’s a thought you’ve had about seonghwa, so you kept your mouth shut.

anyway, you know you need someone to answer these questions for you, but you can’t bring yourself to ask seonghwa. he kept up his “perfect” demeanor again today, showing up at the bookstore before you so he could get you the coffee you like. you would ask why he keeps doing things like this for you, remembering your favorite color and your coffee order, but you’re afraid he’ll stop if you bring it up. little do you know, every time he learns something new about you, he writes it down in his notes app, keeping a running tab of the things you like.

“y/n?” you hear him ask. his voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you realize you’ve been staring at him this whole time. the smirk you’ve become so familiar with makes another appearance as he gets ready to tease you. “something on your mind?”

“no, i...no,” you stutter. “i’m just thinking.”

“about what?” he questions as he lifts his coffee cup to his lips. you watch the way he slightly pouts them before taking a sip and you have to stop yourself from staring again.

“just this ethics assignment i want to finish,” you explain. “sorry, i didn’t realize i was staring at you.”

“must be an important assignment,” he nods, leaning forward to put his cup back on the table in front of you. you get another glimpse at the star tattoo on his neck as he does. “because i was definitely staring at you too, and you didn’t even notice.”

“oh?”

“yep,” he confirms. “i was giving you my best puppy dog eyes and everything.”

“puppy dog eyes?” you ask, unsure of what’s coming. “do you need something?”

“eh, not really,” he shrugs. “i’m just worried.”

“why?”

“you never texted me the other night.”

“after the art store?” you ask incredulously.

“isn’t that when i gave you my number?” he smirks.

“i didn’t think you wanted me to text you immediately...”

“well, it’s been three days and i still don’t have your number,” he pouts.

“hold on a second,” you mumble, reaching for your bag. you fumble around in there, searching for the piece of paper with seonghwa’s number on it as he watches you fondly.

“what are you doing?”

“looking for your number,” you reply like it’s obvious. seonghwa laughs a little and places his hand on your arm to stop you.

“you do know i’m right next to you, and i could just put my number in myself?” he asks, eyes sparkling as he half-smiles at you. you blush, because no, you weren’t thinking about that. you sheepishly hand him your phone and watch as he adds his number and then texts himself. he gives your phone back and replaces it with his own before asking, “what’s your favorite emoji?”

“um, the smiling cowboy?” you offer, not sure why he’s asking. he laughs again, like he did in the art store, but this time it’s harder for him to quiet the breathy giggles coming from his chest.

“why that one?” he asks, typing something quickly.

“it’s funny,” you shrug. “why?”

“needed something cute to put next to your name, but you’re a weirdo, so it’s not as cute as i was imagining,” he explains, showing you the contact card in his phone. your number is saved as “y/n 🥰🤠” and you can’t help but laugh. you look up at seonghwa, warmth in your eyes, and he starts laughing too.

“see?” you giggle. “it is funny.”

“whatever, at least now i have your number.”

after exchanging numbers with seonghwa, you’re starting to let yourself believe little by little that he might feel the same way you do. it’s not anything serious, but there’s definitely something there. the texts he sends are always flirtatious, and it has your heart beating faster every time you get a notification, hoping that it’s him. you’re in the middle of studying for your spanish final when you feel your phone vibrate on the bed next to you, and you smile when you see who it’s from.

seonghwa 🥺💫, 6:28pm: are you busy rn?

you, 6:28pm: not really, just studying

seonghwa 🥺💫: can’t be studying too much if you replied that quickly 🥸

you: what do u want

seonghwa 🥺💫: be nice :-(

you: sorry

you: hi seonghwa, how are you? what do you want.

seonghwa 🥺💫: come get dinner with me?

you: right now?

seonghwa 🥺💫: no, in 30 years. yes right now

you: but i’m studying ://

seonghwa 🥺💫: liar!

you: fine, when and where?

seonghwa 🥺💫: i’ll pick you up in ten 🤠

“you sure like staying close to campus, huh?” you ask seonghwa as he walks you about a block from your usual hangout and to a little hole in the wall restaurant that looks like it could seat maybe 20 people, uncomfortably.

“i know what i like,” he responds with a shrug. “speaking of things i like, you look nice.”

“oh, thank you,” you semi-laugh. you’d been close to panic trying to figure out what to wear (because you’re not sure if this is a date) so you went with something simple, but you’re glad seonghwa likes it. not that you wanted to impress him. but you did, a little. anyway, he looks...well, perfect, wearing black ripped jeans and a velvet-y navy shirt. you continually have to stop yourself from reaching out and stroking his arm just to feel the soft fabric (and maybe his muscles).

“so i take it you’ve never been here before?” he asks as he hands you a menu. you shake your head no in response. you can’t tell if he’s doing it intentionally, but seonghwa leans closer into your side as he explains. “you pick a main entree, but each dish comes with these sides. they say no substitutes, but i know the guy behind the counter so you can ask for more of something else if you don’t like one of them.”

“i might do that,” you say. “i don’t really want dumplings, so could i get extra sweet potatoes?”

“of course,” he nods, noting the way you smile slightly. it makes your eyes light up, and his heart does a little backflip knowing that he’s the reason for it. well, the sweet potatoes probably are, but he’s the one getting the sweet potatoes, so he’s taking that win for himself. once you both confirm what you want, he places his hand on your back and guides you to the counter.

“hey seonghwa!” the tall guy with a lopsided smile behind the register greets. “long time no see. who’s your friend?”

“hey yunho,” seonghwa smiles back. “this is y/n, a vip, so make sure you give us the good stuff.”

“extra sweet potatoes?” yunho laughs. you and seonghwa both nod as yunho continues taking your order, and you find yourself comfortably leaning into seonghwa as you wait for yunho to calculate the price. before seonghwa can even think about taking his wallet out, you’re handing yunho cash for the food, which makes seonghwa sputter.

“what? y/n, i was going to pay,” he whines, and you simply shake your head.

“nope, my turn,” you tell him. “you’ve bought me coffee too many times.”

“but i asked you out! i don’t want you to pay on our first date if i’m the one who brought you here,” he continues to complain.

“so this is a date?” you confirm, right as yunho asks suggestively “oh, this is a date?”

“yunho, give y/n’s money back,” seonghwa says, ignoring the two of you. “i’m paying.”

“yunho, if you give me that money i’ll be forced to leave and stand seonghwa up for our date,” you say, emphasizing the last word. now you’re glad you wore clean pants.

“seonghwa, why don’t you let y/n pay for this, and then you can get the next one?” yunho suggests, sending you a wink before he turns to the kitchen to share your order with the chef. you’re left with a flustered seonghwa, which is a sight you’re not used to, and it makes you laugh.

“c’mon,” you say as you pull on his arm. “let’s go find a table.”

you’re the only ones in the restaurant, so the food comes out pretty quick, and you have to stifle a laugh when you see that someone has arranged the sweet potatoes on a separate plate in the shape of a heart. seonghwa blushes at this, and you’re taken aback by how shy he’s suddenly become.

for some reason, seonghwa showing signs of nervousness puts you at ease, and you lead the conversation to something stupid san told you about the boys and their shenanigans at their dorm. the story has seonghwa laughing, and he confirms that yes, yeosang does have a sword by the tv, and yes, hongjoong did threaten to use it on him after he lost an intense match of fifa.

“in hongjoong’s defense,” seonghwa begins, “i do think yeosang cheated. wooyoung was definitely helping him.”

“it still sounds ridiculous,” you tell him. “why does anybody need a sword?”

“yeosang is just...yeosang,” seonghwa replies. “he’s weird but he won’t admit that to anyone.”

“i’m just saying, if i went to someone’s house and there was a katana by the tv, i’d haul my ass outta there.” seonghwa giggles at how serious you look, but this conversation reminds him...

“you never showed me your room,” he says bluntly. you pause for a moment, spoon halfway to your mouth, and seonghwa realizes how that must sound. “i mean, the paint, your dresser. you never showed me a picture once you fixed it up.”

“oh,” you breathe out. “let me grab my phone, i can show you.”

“show him what?” a familiar voice suddenly asks from the seat next to you. when you notice that san, and some of your other friends, have snuck their way into the restaurant, you have to keep yourself from groaning.

“why are you here.”

“i’m hungry,” san replies, then turns to seonghwa. “you didn’t tell us you were getting dinner.”

“i didn’t want to,” seonghwa deadpans. “ i wanted it to be just me and y/n.”

“too late for that, pal,” honjoong says as he slides into the seat across from you. “hi y/n.”

“hey hongjoong,” you grumble. “please tell me you’re getting your food to go.”

“we were, but then we saw our good friends eating all by themselves and thought we should join them,” hongjoong teases. by now, the rest of the boys have sat down around you, some at other tables, and one of them you don’t recognize. that must be jongho, their younger “roommate” who technically lives in first year housing but doesn’t get along with the other guy in his room. you’ve heard seonghwa complain that jongho eats all of his snacks.

“well, i hope you enjoy your food, but seonghwa and i were just about to leave,” you lie, looking at seonghwa with a stare that pleads ‘please go along with this.’

“where are you going?” wooyoung asks, one table over.

“my apartment,” you respond quickly, standing up as seonghwa follows your cue with a stupidly adorable look on his face.

“oh, perfect!” san chirps. “we’ll come with you!”

so much for your date with seonghwa. it was hard to stop the boys from insisting they all join you at your apartment, especially after yunho said his shift was over and he could really use some destressing. and by destressing he meant booze, so you currently have 8 tipsy boys scattered across your living room. if you thought they were loud before...it’s amazing that your neighbors haven’t complained yet.

it started off innocent enough, you were just playing card games at first and the loser of each round had to drink. then it turned into never have i ever, and each time you put a finger down you had to drink. then yeosang suggested shots, and it really went downhill from there. san tried convincing everyone to play a round of spin the bottle just for the chance of making you and seonghwa kiss, but mingi and wooyoung were the only ones down, so majority ruled there.

“san, stop pouting,” you laugh, noticing that he’s upset over his evil plan not working out.

“it’s fine,” he lies, duck lips on full display.

“spin the bottle is such a tween-y game too,” jongho pipes in. “and we’re adults, so it would be kinda stupid to play it anyway.”

“says the baby of the group,” yeosang scoffs.

“what about truth or dare?” hongjoong suggests. “still immature, but we can make it fun.”

“yes!” san shouts, suddenly back in a positive mood.

“i’ll start,” mingi volunteers. he takes a deep breath as he looks around the room, eyes narrowing when he looks at you and seonghwa. you’re currently smushed into your armchair together, not really by choice, because the couch is completely full and neither of you wanted to sit on the floor (you know how dirty it is, and seonghwa has a bad hip). thankfully, mingi has mercy on you and directs his gaze to his best friend. “yunho, truth or dare?”

“truth,” yunho slurs out. you’d say he’s the opposite of stressed by now.

“did you sleep with that girl you met at the party last week?”

“no,” yunho replies quickly, cheeks turning a knowing shade of red. “i just walked her home.”

“and went missing until the next morning?” yeosang asks. he gets a few snickers, and you laugh a little too because you remember san and wooyoung talking about their friend who disappeared for a few hours last weekend.

“whatever,” yunho groans. “yeosang. truth or dare.”

“dare,” yeosang chooses confidently.

“kiss wooyoung on the cheek.”

“no,” he replies, just as confidently.

“then take another shot,” yunho concedes, waving his hand at the stubborn boy. wooyoung mumbles something about how kissable he is as yeosang downs what looks like more than just a regular shot.

“this is boring,” jongho whines, which makes him the next target. he chooses dare, and you have to detach yourself from seonghwa so you can go into your kitchen and find the lemon juice in your fridge so jongho can chug what’s left. he’s sputtering after a few sips and gives up, grumbling up to you, “ i hate you for that.”

“hey, it wasn’t my dare,” you defend yourself. “you owe me lemon juice.”

“i’ll give it to you if you choose dare,” jongho challenges. you roll your eyes and take the bait, earning a round of ooo’s from the boys around you.

“make her kiss seonghwa,” someone hisses.

“or me!” wooyoung chirps. jongho looks over at him with a death glare, and wooyoung shrugs. “i just want someone to want to kiss me.”

“i think you’re cut off,” hongjoong says as he leans across your coffee table to move the bottle away from wooyoung.

“everyone be quiet!” san shouts. “jongho has to give y/n a dare.”

“hmmm,” jongho starts, tapping his finger on his chin. “what should i do?”

“for someone who said this was boring, you’re really milking this,” seonghwa says under his breath. you’re perched on the arm of the chair, close enough to hear him, but thankfully no one else does.

“what’s that other childish game called?” jongho wonders aloud. “seven minutes in heaven? i think you should do that with seonghwa.”

“do i have to?” you pout, and your reluctance makes seonghwa stiffen. he thinks you said that because you’re uncomfortable, and not because you don’t want the boys pressing their ear up to the door while the two of you make out.

“rules are rules,” hongjoong concludes, nodding his head toward your room. “go have fun. i’ll keep the kids from bothering you.”

you look to seonghwa, who isn’t looking directly at you. you tentatively take his hand, giving it a squeeze before you stand up and lead him to your room. there are so many catcalls, whistles and cheers coming from your friends that you barely hear san say “take your time! it doesn’t have to be just seven minutes!”

once you get to your room, you let seonghwa go in first and then you lock the door behind you. he quirks an eyebrow at that, and you shrug shyly.

“don’t want one of them bursting in,” you explain. seonghwa nods, and you both fall silent. it’s not necessarily awkward, just tense. you both want to do what seven minutes in heaven is meant for, but you’re not gonna make the first move and seonghwa still isn’t sure you even want to be in this situation. so he takes this time to turn around and take your room in, pointing to your dresser.

“is this it?” he asks. you hum out a yes in response, and he runs his hand over the freshly painted wood. “it looks nice. whoever picked out the color sure knows what he’s doing.”

“eh, he’s just lucky,” you joke, and you both laugh. you move to stand next to him and place your hand on top of his. “sorry we couldn’t finish our date.”

“sorry my friends are so annoying,” seonghwa adds.

“sorry san pushed me into your lap earlier,” you continue, and seonghwa smirks.

“well, i didn’t mind that,” he says. “i wanted you to sit with me, but i didn’t want to draw attention.”

“oh,” you squeak, feeling a blush on its way to your cheeks. a heavy silence falls over you, and seonghwa is the first to break it.

“listen, if you don’t want to kiss me, that’s cool,” he begins. “i kinda got the vibe earlier that you didn’t want to do this, and that’s cool. if you don’t want to do this we’re still cool.”

“you don’t sound very cool about it,” you chuckle, and seonghwa’s face flushes. “but i was only nervous because i didn’t know if you wanted to kiss me.”

“oh i want to kiss you,” he says firmly. “have for a while.”

“why don’t you do it then?” you challenge. seonghwa takes a step closer to you, and before you know it he’s pinned you against your dresser. you balance your hands on it and the cool wood helps you ground yourself as your body heats up from having seonghwa so close.

“are you sure?” he asks, only a few inches from your face. you nod and whisper out “i’m sure” and seonghwa quickly cups your face and smothers you in a kiss. it starts off slow, and your face warms at his touch. once you relax into it you move your lips against his, nipping at his bottom lip slightly and earning a groan from the man before you. you take the chance to slip your tongue past his lips as you bring your hands up to the nape of his neck, slowly brushing through his soft hair. his hands find their way to your waist, gripping tightly but not too hard, and he leans in to get as close to you as possible. you keep kissing for a few moments, but eventually you need to breathe so you lightly tap on his neck. he pulls back, breathing heavy, and his smile shines like the most beautiful stars in the sky. “so?”

“so?” you repeat, equally out of breath.

“that was nice.”

“it was.”

“the boys are gonna know we made out.”

“of course they are,” you laugh. “your lips look swollen.”

“so do yours,” he counters.

“but wasn’t that the whole point of us coming in here?” you ask. your hands have fallen to his chest, and you finally get a chance to smooth out the soft velvet of his shirt. and you notice his chest is very, uh, firm, too.

“we didn’t have to kiss,” he says with a shrug. “we could’ve just talked.”

“about what?” you ask with a smile.

“my keen eye for interior design,” he replies. “how sexy you look in low lighting.”

“so you think i’m sexy?” you tease, and seonghwa rolls his eyes.

“i just had my tongue in your mouth, does that answer your question?”

another silence comes over you both, but this one is lighter than before. you’re subconsciously rubbing your hands over his shirt, and seonghwa brings a hand up to cover yours, stopping it right over his heart.

“we don’t have to tell them,” you offer. “i mean, they kept it a secret from us that they were trying to get us together this whole time.”

“oh no, i was fully aware of that,” seonghwa tells you, and you scoff. “do you think i really wanted to get out past midnight just to buy hongjoong some expensive markers? he never even paid me for them.”

“well now i really don’t want to tell them we kissed,” you whine. “how could everyone be in on this except me?”

“it was more fun that way,” seonghwa teases before pecking your lips. “but we can keep this between us, for now.”

“i think we should,” you say with a nod of finality. “it’s more fun that way.”

“c’mon, let’s go back out there before they send a search party.”

you return to the living room before seonghwa (so he can sneak into the bathroom and fix his hair) and you find most of the boys asleep on the floor. you sigh as your eyes meet hongjoong’s, and he shrugs.

“at least they didn’t bother you,” he says.

“can you help me find pillows and blankets for them, please?” you ask, and he nods before jumping into action. he throws one of the couch pillows down to yeosang, who takes it and hugs it to his chest. you have a couple extras in your hall closet and you pass them to yunho, who’s sitting up when you come back. he places one under mingi and another under jongho and keeps the last one for himself. san and wooyoung are on the couch, and hongjoong tells you he’s fine with the armchair. seonghwa is out of the bathroom by now, and, like the perfect man he is, he’s carrying blankets in his arms. the three of you work on getting all the boys covered before you realize that seonghwa doesn’t have a place to sleep.

“i can take another spot on the floor,” he assures you. “do you have another pillow i can use?”

“let him sleep in your room, y/n,” san mumbles from underneath wooyoung. you pause and look at seonghwa, who’s looking back at you with something you can’t read in his eyes.

“it’s not a bad idea,” hongjoong pipes in from somewhere within the blanket cocoon he made for himself. “he was just there. you can put him on the floor.”

“y/n?” seonghwa asks, pulling your attention back to him. “i don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable.”

you would try to fight it, so you could hopefully ignore taunts from the boys in the morning, but you’re suddenly really tired and you just want to lay down.

“i’m ok with it if you are,” you yawn. “take the rest of those blankets, we can use those for your bed.”

“make good choices,” honjoong mumbles as seonghwa leads you back to your room, and you hear san going “oooooo” as you close your door a second time tonight. this time you don’t lock it though, and when you turn around you see the blankets on the floor and seonghwa sprawled out on your usual side of the bed, so you tell him.

“well why don’t you come join me then?” he teases with a grin. you blush and shake your head.

“scoot over.”

he does, but only by an inch. he still looks at you with that flirty glint in his eyes, and you can only shake your head again as you crawl into the tiny space next to him. he immediately wraps an arm around your waist and gives you a tight hug, placing a kiss on your shoulder.

“thank you,” he whispers into your back.

“for what?” you reply.

“for not putting me on the floor. and for liking me.”

you just woke up from maybe the best night of sleep you’ve ever had. seonghwa’s arms and legs are draped over yours, so you can’t get up without waking him, but having him so close is a welcome source of warmth. your apartment is quiet, and the sun is peacefully filtering into your room through your curtain. it’s the perfect moment, with your perfect boy, until-

“i think they’re still asleep,” you hear someone whisper from the hallway.

“wooyoung, leave them alone!” another voice hisses. there’s silence for a moment, and then a smack, followed by someone jiggling the doorknob to your room. you quickly untangle yourself from seonghwa before you watch as the door cracks open a bit, revealing wooyoung in all his bed-headed glory. you close your eyes as much as you can while still peeking at who’s sneaking into your room, and you see jongho close behind him. he must’ve been the one who got smacked. or did the smacking. either way, they’re both staring at you and seonghwa in your bed, but you notice wooyoung smile and pause.

“i knew it! they definitely got together last night.”

“how do you know?” jongho asks. “maybe y/n let seonghwa sleep on the bed because of his old man hips.”

“whatever. they’re in the same bed, so that’s at least something,” wooyoung replies. “lame, but still something.”

“what did you expect?” jongho asks incredulously. “you thought we would catch them doing it?”

“i mean, not exactly, but couldn’t i get a little cuddling maybe?”

“you want me to cuddle you hyung?” jongho deadpans.

“yes, actually-”

“hey!” a third voice whisper shouts. you hear footsteps and then you see hongjoong pulling wooyoung out of your room by the neck of his shirt. “leave them alone. and you, jongho, i’m surprised you’re playing along with this.”

“well...” jongho mumbles.

“well what?” hongjoong asks, sounding like the mom-est mom to ever mom.

“they’re the only ones that know how to make breakfast.”

“both of you, out! now!” hongjoong semi-shouts, and you feel seonghwa stirring behind you. hongjoong doesn’t realize you’re both awake and closes the door as he leaves.

“what time is it?” seonghwa grumbles out, and your heart skips a beat hearing how deep his voice is when he wakes up.

“early,” you reply, turning around to be face to face with him. his arms slowly snake around you as you look up at him and share a sleepy smile. “how can you look this good when you first wake up?”

“weird, i wanted to ask you the same thing,” seonghwa replies, leaning in to kiss you but you touch your fingers to his lips and stop him, so he pouts.

“uh uh, not until i brush my teeth,” you say as you try to get up, but seonghwa’s grip on your waist keeps you down.

“please,” he pouts again, sparkly eyes on full display as he pleads with you. it takes about half a second for you to cave and kiss him quickly, catching him off guard. he shifts to pull you on top of him and deepen the kiss, but he loses his grip on you and you’re able to slip out of bed before he can stop you. a noise comes from deep in his chest that almost sounds like a growl, and you shoot him a glare.

“hey, you got your kiss,” you warn. “now i’m going to make breakfast for the gremlins. do you want to help me?”

after the intrusion into your bedroom, wooyoung obviously told the boys what he saw. but, like jongho said, most of them thought it was just because of seonghwa’s hips that made you share a bed with him. there wasn’t enough evidence otherwise, and none of them really expected either of you to make a move despite their efforts. but they’re starting to get suspicious.

little do they know, after the set up fell into place, seonghwa wanted to take you on a real date. the only way to do that without your friends knowing was to sneak around without them, which was kind of fun. it was nice having this bubble with seonghwa, just the two of you, but it was getting harder to avoid your friends. seonghwa lived with them after all, so they pestered him about how often he was out and who he might be out with.

“san keeps asking if you’re a good kisser. i told him i didn’t know, and then he asked if he could find out for me. should i be concerned about that?”

“we need to be more careful, yeosang said he saw us at the taco place yesterday, and he said we hold hands weird.”

“hongjoong has been saving seats for us at the bookstore, and each time we don’t show up i think he steals something from me.”

you have been ditching study group lately, but that’s more because you need to do some deep studying for your other finals and your friends are too much of a distraction. seonghwa can be distracting too, but at least he can take a hint and back down when you really need to focus. it’s been nice actually, just spending time in his presence. you were so nervous around him just a few weeks ago, and now you feel like you could trust him with just about anything.

today, you don’t get any personal study time, though. your music theory final is coming up and seonghwa wants you to get all the terms memorized before the review session in class tomorrow. he’s motivating you with a kiss for each right answer and the promise of him making dinner once you’re done. you’re currently cruising on five wrong in a row, and you’re getting frustrated.

“c’mon y/n, you know this,” seonghwa encourages you, but you just whine in response. “we did this like four minutes ago, and i told you the answer so you could remember it.”

“yeah, well i obviously didn’t,” you snap, and seonghwa fakes being hurt. “sorry. can we skip this and come back to it?”

“sure,” he agrees quickly. “but first you need to write down the circle of fifths for me.”

“i hate you.”

“hm, wrong answer,” he hums. “but kiss anyway. maybe that’ll keep you from getting so grumpy.”

“i am not grumpy,” you defend after kissing him gently. “i’m stressed.”

“you know what you need?”

“hm?”

“you need to go on another date,” he begins. “with me, obviously.”

“damn, i wanted to know if yunho was free,” you tease, and seonghwa doesn’t think it’s funny. “now who’s grumpy?”

“ignoring that,” he scoffs, but you can tell he’s trying not to smile.

“when would we go? i’m really busy the next few days.”

“what about after class? we could both clean up and do something nice before we get some dinner?” seonghwa suggests. “why don’t we go to that art exhibit you told me about?”

“ugh,” you groan as you learn your head on his shoulder. “that sounds amazing, but we both said we’d be at study group tomorrow, remember? hongjoong practically begged me to be there, and i said i would ask you to come.”

“what about not letting them know we’re a thing?” he pouts. you don’t tell him about the youngest two that saw you all cuddled up, but instead you assure him that you inviting him to study group wouldn’t look unusual to the boys.

“plus, if we both cancel last minute, they’d know for sure we were up to something together,” you continue. “so yes, we need to go on another date, but just not tomorrow.”

“fine,” he mumbles. “now i am grumpy.”

“would something from the cafe make it better, my little boba ball?” you ask in a baby voice.

“ooh, actually, boba sounds good,” seonghwa smiles. “let’s go.”

the next day you get to the bookstore late because your professor gave a pop quiz at the end of class and you’ve been so busy studying music theory you forgot to study for anything else, so you needed all the time you could get. when you finally arrive, all of the boys are there, surprisingly. since you’ve never seen yunho, mingi and jongho here before you’re a little confused, but happy to see them nonetheless.

as you walk up to the usual spot, you notice a coffee cup sitting in front of an empty chair, and you point to it as the boys greet you.

“is this for me?” you ask, placing your bag on the ground before grabbing the warm mug. “thank you, coffee angel.”

“you’re welcome, actual angel,” seonghwa replies, and you almost choke on your first sip. what is he doing?? you’re supposed to be sneaky sneaks and keep your relationship quiet, but here he is flirting with you in front of everyone!

except, that’s what he did before you started dating too, so it’s not out of the ordinary. in fact, no one pays any mind to it, so you’re left with a burnt tongue and blushy cheeks while seonghwa looks at you with a stare that only you would understand. you quickly shoot him a wink before you put your mug down and reach for your notes.

“um, hello? what are you guys doing?” you ask yeosang next to you, who’s rabidly tapping at his phone, just like everyone else. if they weren’t distracted they might have picked up on the vibes between you and seonghwa, but thankfully they’re the oblivious ones now.

“playing a game,” half of them respond, just as hongjoong says “writing lyrics” and jongho mumbles “texting my mom.”

“aren’t we supposed to study?” you ask. “or did you already learn everything in the world while i was gone?”

“well you’ve missed a lot of study sessions, y/n,” san begins. “so yes, we have learned everything. now we just come here to hang out.”

“so then why did you insist on me being here, joong?” you ask newly orange-haired hongjoong. it’s been a while since you’ve seen him, he must’ve dyed it recently.

“we missed hanging out with you,” he says simply, eyes peeking up from his phone. your heart constricts at this, and you catch seonghwa’s eyes again. you might have to rethink the whole sneaking around thing if they really do miss you.

“yeah, we missed you AND we had to make sure you and seonghwa are still spending time together,” wooyoung adds, wiggling his eyebrows.

“where have you been anyway?” yeosang asks. “you don’t have other friends.”

“yes i do,” you scoff.”

“give me names and numbers.”

“ignore him,” yunho tells you, and you nod.

“i always do. but i’ve been really stressed about finals, so i had to do some soul searching on my own to decide if i need to graduate or not.”

“seems fair,” mingi agrees. “i almost had to drop a class.”

“because he forgot he was even enrolled in it,” jongho clarifies, and you laugh.

“but seonghwa has been missing a lot lately too,” san starts. “i wonder what he’s been doing.”

“or who,” wooyoung snickers, and hongjoong reaches over mingi to slap him.

“i haven’t been feeling well,” seonghwa says with a shrug. “i’ve mostly been in my room, or at the pharmacy to get medicine.”

“oh, so you could’ve bought new paper towels for the dorm then, huh?” hongjoong asks, and as the two of them start to bicker, yeosang nudges your arm.

“i saw you two,” he says quietly. “at the mexican restaurant.”

“i know,” you whisper back.

“so i know you’re dating.”

“are you gonna say anything?”

“hmmm, no,” he thinks. “but you have to buy my silence.”

“with coffee?” you offer, and yeosang smiles. he stands up and puts his phone away before speaking, looking directly at seonghwa.

“my best friend y/n is gonna buy me coffee, we’ll be back,” he says as he loops his arm around your shoulders. seonghwa watches as you walk away (and stares at your ass) but he’s mostly thinking about how he’s a little jealous right now. like, he knows you wouldn’t do anything, he trusts you, but he doesn’t want his friends thinking you have a thing for anyone but him. so while you’re gone, he talks.

“i haven’t been sick,” he admits. “i’ve been seeing y/n.”

“we all knew, dude,” hongjoong says casually, and everyone agrees.

“then why didn’t you say anything?!”

“because YOU weren’t saying anything,” jongho replies.

“yeah, we figured that we did enough trying to get the two of you together, so if you didn’t end up dating then that was your fault. we were just waiting on you to make a move,” san explains.

“then why did you let us lie to you like that?”

“it was fun,” wooyoung shrugs. “by the way, did y/n let you sleep in the bed because of your hips, or because you wanted to cuddle?”

the red tint on seonghwa’s cheeks gives him away, and the boys start laughing and ooo’ing so loud he’s afraid you’ll hear it over by the coffee counter.

“ok, ok, just. keep this quiet for now,” he says. “y/n may still want this to be private.”

“but you just told us about it,” yunho says. “why would you do that if you knew y/n wouldn’t want you to?”

“well,” seonghwa begins. “i need your help with a date.”

seemingly by an act of god, you have time this weekend to go on a date with seonghwa. little did you know, he’s the reason your plans suddenly freed up. san said you could critique him and wooyoung for their dance final another day, hongjoong said he would send you his music theory notes from the review and save you hours of studying and then yeosang found the exact spanish book you needed to finish your performance final ahead of time. it was the perfect circumstances, orchestrated by your perfect boy and his perfect-adjacent friends, who all agreed to help him with this (hopefully) perfect date.

it starts with seonghwa picking you up from your apartment, coffee in hand.

“you’re the man of my dreams, you know that?” you say in passing as you grab the warm to-go cup. even if you were only saying it lightly, it made seonghwa’s heart soar. you notice he hasn’t said anything to you, so you meet his eyes to find them full of stars like always, but this time there’s something scheme-y in there. he’s up to something.

“are you ready for the best date of your life?” he asks with a smile that puts the stars in his eyes to shame.

“yes, i think,” you respond, grabbing your keys and locking your door. “but i don’t know what we’re doing.”

“and it will stay that way until we get there,” seonghwa says firmly as he laces his hand into yours. you squeeze his hand and sigh.

“i guess i just have to trust you then.”

“but that won’t be hard right?”

“wait, didn’t you say something earlier about going to that art exhibit? is that it?” you question, even though you know he won’t budge. seonghwa just shakes his head no and punches the button for the elevator. a moment of silence passes before you guess again. “a movie? you rented out a movie theater, like you said you wanted to?”

“i tried, but it was expensive,” he admits and you have to laugh. “funds are tight right now.”

“i watched you buy a couple hundred dollars worth of legos the other day babe. maybe that’s why the date fund is lacking.”

“you’re not coming between me and my collectables, y/n,” seonghwa scolds. the elevator pings to open to the parking garage under your building, and you’re confused for a moment before he explains. “i want this to be a nice date, so yunho let me borrow his car. it would be no fun if we show up all sweaty because we were walking.”

yunho’s car, which is actually pretty nice thanks to all the tips he gets from flirting with clientele, is parked by the elevator. seonghwa leads you to your door and opens it for you, revealing a basket of flowers and candies in the seat. you coo as you pick it up, and seonghwa looks on proudly. you lean over to give him a kiss, and you whisper your thanks as you pull away.

“that was mingi’s idea,” seonghwa tells you, smiling brightly “i got all your favorites.”

“i see that.”

“but look around the flowers,” he guides you. “there’s something else.”

you hold the basket up to eye level, noticing the silver sparkle around the stems of the flowers. is it glitter? you tug at a flower and realize it’s a chain, and attached is a hand drawn star charm to match the tattoo on the back of seonghwa’s neck.

“seonghwa, this is beautiful,” you say breathlessly. “we’re gonna match! that’s so cute. who’s idea was this?”

“would you believe me if i said it was mine?”

“no.”

“that’s what jongho said too,” seonghwa laughs. “it was his idea.”

“tell him thank you,” you say as you play with the charm. “mingi and yunho too. it’s a good date so far.”

“oh baby, it hasn’t officially started yet.”

in the car, seonghwa plays a mix of songs that he really likes, and he’s mixed in some of your favorites too. he has to keep convincing you that the songs aren’t clues, because you ask every time a new song plays.

“so are the songs just distractions?” you ask, finally giving up on getting any information out of him.

“why do you ask that?” he smirks as he turns down a familiar road.

“because i can tell you just took the long way to the record store,” you explain. “are you stalling?”

“me, what? why?” his response does nothing to manage your suspicions, and suddenly you remember how your friends have helped with the date so far. are they all in on this? you need answers.

“seonghwa, i swear to god, if san or wooyoung jumps out to surprise me wherever we’re going-”

“that won’t happen,” seonghwa laughs while he parks the car. “we’re here anyway, and i promise this is the last surprise of the night.”

“the record store?” you question, looking up at the shop you’ve been to countless times to shop and to bother hongjoong while he works.

“yeah, you said there was a new album out you wanted to get, right?”

“yeah,” you blush. “but i just said that in passing, i didn’t expect you to remember.”

“y/n, i want to know everything about you,” seonghwa says seriously. “so of course i remembered. wait, don’t get out yet. i’ll open the door for you.”

as seonghwa helps you out of the car, you quiz him on the other things you’ve said around him that you didn’t think he remembered. sadly, he does remember you saying your favorite disney movie is ratatouille and you’ve always wanted to try the mushroom/cheese concoction remy makes in the first scene.

“that’s a little embarrassing,” you sigh as you reach for the door. you’re going to complain some more about how seonghwa doesn’t need to remember everything about you, but the sight in front of you makes you stop mid-breath.

the record store has been decorated from floor to ceiling in fairy lights, and there’s more flowers all over the place. as you look around, you notice the flowers are tucked in the shelves next to your favorite artists. next to the door is the album you were talking about, and a little further down you see your favorite album of all time with a few extra flowers next to it. you’re still taking everything in when you notice hongjoong behind the counter.

“did you help him with this?” you ask breathlessly, and hongjoong nods.

“yeah, but the flowers next to the albums was my idea,” hongjoong explains. “we’re running a new special called “y’n’s favorites” so everything that’s marked with a flower is yours, if you want it. everything is on the house.”

“i...i don’t know what to say,” you start. you turn to seonghwa and there are those starry eyes that you love to see. you reach out to cup his face and smile. “thank you. this is...perfect.”

“it’s even more perfect now that i’m here!” wooyoung shouts from the front door of the shop, followed by san and yeosang. you look at seonghwa and all he does is laugh.

“what? at least he didn’t jump out and scare you,” seonghwa teases.

“oh, i would never,” wooyoung nods with a half-serious look on his face. “but i definitely wouldn’t do that when i have your dinner in my hands, i can’t let all this hard work spill.”

“especially not on my clean floor,” hongjoong warns.

“you made dinner for us?” you ask wooyoung, but you’re looking at seonghwa, who simply shrugs.

“yep, i made one of your favorites and then threw in a couple recipes i thought you’d both like,” wooyoung says as he and the two other boys place food down on the counter by the register.

“and what did you two help with?” you ask san and yeosang.

“who do you think made this place so beautiful?” yeosang asks incredulously.

“yeosang did the lights and i bought all the flowers,” san explains with a smile that makes his eyes turn into happy half moons. “you’d be surprised how many places i had to go to get all your favorites.”

“i really don’t know what to say,” you whisper in disbelief. “i can’t believe you all did this for me.”

“it was all seonghwa’s idea,” san tells you. “we did it for both of you.”

“yeah, we’re just his little minions,” yeosang jokes, and wooyoung giggles.

“you tell me how that food tastes, got it?” he asks as he backs out of the store. “don’t say anything mean though. i only accept compliments.”

“wooyoung,” seonghwa smiles tightly. “please leave.”

wooyoung holds the door open for san and yeosang as he gives seonghwa a thumbs up. san waves goodbye sweetly and yeosang gives you a knowing smile before the door closes behind them.

“well, i think that’s my cue to go,” hongjoong says, handing the keys to seonghwa. “don’t make a mess. if i get fired, i’m selling all the stuff i stole from you when you were sneaking around with y/n and not telling us about it.”

“i’ll keep him under control,” you assure hongjoong, who nods as heads to the door. you don’t see him leave because seonghwa has stepped in front of you, and he places his hands on your waist to pull you closer.

“so,” he begins.

“so.”

“what do you want to listen to while we eat?” he asks, pulling you by the waist over to a row of records. you stand there quietly, looking over the albums hongjoong pulled to the front for you, and you just can’t believe how much work went into this date. you can’t believe how sweet it is that each of your friends helped, and you put your hand on seonghwa’s and give it a squeeze.

“hwa,” you whisper. he hums in response, but you place your hand on his cheek and guide his gaze to yours.

“thank you,” you tell him. “thank you for this.”

he smiles at you with a look in his eyes that can’t be anything else but love, and you smile back with that much love, if not more, in your own face. you use the hand on seonghwa’s chin to guide his lips to yours, and you lose yourself in the kiss, in seonghwa, for who knows how long.

“mm, y/n,” he mumbles against your lips before detaching. “the food will get cold.”

“you’re right,” you sigh. “but we didn’t pick any music.”

“how about this?” he asks, pulling an album out from the top shelf. you smile at the cover, knowing exactly what song seonghwa wants you to hear.

“perfect,” you agree. “i’ll put it on while you get the food?”

and that’s how you end up eating the perfect meal, on your perfect date, with all of your favorite things around you, sitting right next to your perfect boy.

#seonghwa #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa imagine #seonghwa one shot #ateez one shot #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #seonghwa imagines #ateez fluff #park seonghwa #park seonghwa fluff #park seonghwa imagine #park seonghwa imagines #park seonghwa one shot

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ynscrazylife · 3 years

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Spoilers

Not sure if you write for Melina from Black Widow but if you do could you please write a Melina x Reader where they are both locked in the cells in the red room and confess to each other and kiss

Destined to Lose | m.v fic

Summary: Melina recalls the love that she once shared with a Red Room agent years ago.

Authors Note: Thanks for requesting! Also, as the Red Room focuses on girls, the reader will be female.

Warning: Implications of some malnourishment.

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

MCU Masterlist #1 | MCU Masterlist #2 | Main Masterlist

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

Ever since the Red Room had been stopped once and for all, there seemed to be the fragrance of calm in the air, washing over Mother Russia . . . or maybe it had just washed over Melina, Alexei, and Yelena, as everything had been shifted now. They were all free and had the opportunity to work on their shattered relationships - and to work on their shattered selves. Each one had coped in their own way, discovering and rediscovering their interests and who they were outside the Red Room, outside KGB.

One of the ways that Melina chose to heal was to take time for herself, and that included reading. More often than not, she’d be curled up in an armchair in the living room, entranced as her eyes swept over the ink printed on every page. The stories, whether they be fiction or non, always captivated her, and she soaked in every word.

That is the precise reason that despite being a highly trained and experienced spy, she didn’t notice that her youngest daughter was in the room until she piped up and spoke.

“Melina?”

Instantly the brunette was tugged from the faraway world she was in and her head snapped up, eyes holding a gaze of alarm for just a moment before they stilled. Melina took in Yelena’s state. The younger woman was standing confidently but her face told a different story. She was concentrating on something, Melina could tell from the way that her muscles were pulled, and there was an inner dialogue going on, troubling her.

“Yes, dear?” Melina said, carefully turning over the corner of the page and closing the book on her lap, as she could tell that this conversation wouldn’t be over in a minute.

“I had a question,” Yelena began, pausing for a moment and then sitting in the armchair across from her mother. She continued when she was comfortable. “-which you don’t have to answer.” She reeled in her worried gaze and made it more neutral.

Melina allowed her shoulders to slump into a relaxed posture and drew her bushy eyebrows together, her chin jutting down ever so slightly. “What is it?” She asked, the curiosity gnawing at her, since this wasn’t Yelena’s typical behavior.

Yelena seemed to be collecting her thoughts and, when she was finished, spoke in a delicate manner. “When I was looking at the Red Room’s files that Natasha got, I . . . I came across yours. It had said that you had been through the Red Room five times and . . . It mentioned someone named Y/N Y/L/N? I was wondering-” she cut herself off abruptly when she saw the solemn and serious look on her mother’s face.

The moment she heard that name, it struck something inside Melina. The memory, the feelings, it all came hurtling back with a force that had been absent for years. Y/N.

Y/N was the name that caused her stomach to twist and turn as the wound was ripped open. Y/N was the name that put a smile on her lips through the tears and reminded her how far she came when she was sad. Y/N was the name she thought of as a battle cry when she jumped into a fight against those Red Room agents. Y/N was the name she focussed on, like one would stare at a point on the wall to keep focus, as she got through the hardest times in her life, motivated her to push through with all her might.

With all those thoughts running through Melina’s head, she finally looked up, met Yelena’s gaze with her own, and parted her lips to tell her a story.

Melina had long since given up keeping track of the days at this point. There was no use, for by this time the days had all blurred into one. She could only differentiate the day and the night because every night is when someone with a deep frown on their face would walk in and give her a tray of food, and every morning was when someone else would arrive and take said tray away. She had barely moved from the position she sat in: back against the chain wall that seperated her cell and the one right next to hers and her knees drawn to her chest. She’d tune in to any sound she could hear and fixate.

She had been thrown into this cell because of her attempt to escape the Red Room. It wouldn’t be the first time she tried to escape, nor would it be the first time she sat in this cell, but it was the first time that she had gotten as far as she did, since she had help.

Melina could only wonder why she was here and Y/N wasn’t, and those wonderings always ended up with her conjuring thoughts and ideas that frightened her.

She ended up having the endless questions crawling at the back of her mind come to a halt when she heard pounding footsteps one day. Despite being in a tired haze, Melina snapped right out of it and became alert, watching and waiting with anticipation as their footsteps got closer, and closer, and closer.

The person - or people - belonging to those footsteps came into sight and Melina couldn’t stop the gasp before it escaped her lips when she saw what was happening.

A man, a Red Room agent, was practically dragging Y/N who was thrashing about, doing her best to put up a fight, but ultimately losing it when he carelessly tossed her into the cell next to Melina’s, locked the door, and walked away.

Only after his receding footsteps could be heard no more did Y/N look up from her tears, only for her eyes to widen and for her to lurch towards the chain wall, fingers grasping around it, when she laid eyes on Melina. Melina did the same and, after a little struggle, they managed to hold hands in a steel grip through the chain.

“Mel,” Y/N breathed, but her hoarse voice caused her to cough.

“Y/N,” Melina whispered, tightening her grip and scooting as close to the chain wall - as close to Y/N - as she could. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

Y/N let out a shaky sigh, alarming Melina, and rested her forehead against the chain. “I wasn’t thrown into the cell immediately because you’ve been through the Red Room five times now, but I haven’t. They wanted to train me more and they did their best, but when I kept on fighting them they decided to put me in here.” she answered tiredly.

Melina thought this over and let out a sigh of her own, but this was a sigh of relief. She was glad that she no longer had to worry about Y/N and thankful that Y/N was with her so she could make sure that nothing bad would happen to her.

After a couple moments of the silence beginning to creep in again, Melina decided that she needed to tell Y/N something. “I have to tell you something, love.”

Y/N looked up, a beautiful glint in her eyes telling that she was intrigued. God, Melina had missed seeing that look on her face.

“Don’t feel pressured to respond, just, after I’ve been away from you, I really, really have to say this: I . . . I love you,” Melina confessed, bravely meeting Y/N’s gaze.

Y/N blinked, but that glint did not go away. In fact, it seemed to get bigger, making the smile on her lips reach her eyes, and she squeezed Melina’s hands as best she could.

“I love you, too.”

Those four words were probably the softest words she had ever spoken, but they were beyond true.

Melina leaned forward and Y/N after a moment did too. They did their best and managed to meet each other with a kiss. The two cherished it - the kiss was sweet and simple and not over-the-top. Perfect. They each leaned back.

Then, the silence came again, but this time, to Melina, it was more comfortable.

“I have something to tell you, also”

Melina looked up, expecting the smile to still be on Y/N’s face, but it was faltering. She tilted her head to the side.

“I insisted to them that you not be put through the Red Room a sixth time. I’m not sure if they’re going to do anything, but I wanted to stop what they were doing to you and-”

“That you did. They’ve listened.”

Both looked up to see a Red Room agent standing outside Melina’s cell. He unlocked it and she instantly scurried back, but couldn’t do anything to prevent him from grabbing her and yanking her up. “Y/N!” She yelled as she was half-dragged, half-carried away.

Y/N sat up, banging on the chain. Tears started streaming down her face. It was happening far too fast. “MELINA!” She yelled. “I’M SORRY!”

There was fear in her voice. Oh, god, what had she done?

Melina paused for a moment, eyes focussed on Y/N as they went down the hall. She then said calmly, but with a firmness, “Don’t be!”

“And that was the last time I saw her,” Melina concluded her story, not meeting Yelena’s eyes, but with tears threatening to spill.

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saltybaltic · 3 years

Text

Natasha Romanoff X Reader - FIVE FEET WORTH OF PROBLEMS

Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow X Super Soldier Reader

Synopsis: Natasha isn’t the tallest member of the team which leads to her needing help sometimes (for clarity this is based on MCU Nat when she is just little and I’ve made the reader a super soldier simply to be more inclusive cause we’re not all 6 feet tall)

Warnings: language

Words: 1435

(1 ft)

One of the things you’d noticed about Natasha from the word go was her stubbornness. Especially when it came to asking for help. She was a firm believer that if something needed doing, there was no reason she couldn’t do it herself. Even so, you couldn’t help but laugh at some of the situations she tried to handle by herself.

For example when you walked into the kitchen one morning and saw Natasha straining to reach the ceiling from a set of step ladders, you couldn’t hold in a small chuckle as you went to pour a coffee.

“Need a boost?” you joked, grinning up at the other woman over the rim of your mug.

Natasha didn’t seem in the mood for your humour, shooting you a quick glare before continuing to try and reach upwards, “This damn lightbulb has been out for three days now and not one of you idiots has had the inclination to change it.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” you stated, taking a swig of your drink before placing it down and stepping closer so you were able to look up at the other woman, “You’re never going to reach.”

“Shut up.” shot back Natasha, huffing out a growl of frustration and standing as tall as she possibly could on her tip toes, “Why in the hell have we got the shortest step ladders in the world when the ceilings are this high?!”

You laughed, seeing Natasha’s frustration getting the better of her as you gestured for her to move, “Come on before you break your neck, let me do it.”

“If you were going to do it you would have done it by now!” snapped Natasha, “I can do it.”

“Okay but I mean, clearly you can’t.” you teased, not in the least bit put off by Natasha’s blatant irritation. Seeing she wasn’t going to move from the step ladders, you hopped up onto the kitchen counter beside her and stood up straight. The counter was about the same height as the ladders but you were still head and shoulders above the other woman as you reached up with ease and unscrewed the lightbulb.

The fact you had not only made it look so effortless but had also done it in a matter of seconds only seemed to annoy Natasha further, her jaw working as she narrowed her eyes in your direction, “And yet you still couldn’t be assed doing it three days ago?”

“Like I said,” you started, holding your hand out as Natasha begrudgingly slapped the spare bulb down into your palm so you could reach up and put it in place, “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Sorry I didn’t realise you suffered from blindness.” grumbled Natasha sarcastically as she made her way down from the ladders, “My condolences.”

Even with the snappy attitude from the other woman, you had to grin back at her, “I think the words you’re looking for are, thank you for your help.”

“Kiss my ass.” muttered Natasha, folding up the ladders and making her way back out of the room.

Hopping down from the counter you shouted after her, “Any time.”

You just about caught the rude finger gesture she sent your way before she disappeared down the hallway.

(2 ft)

The next time you had to help Natasha you found her much more accepting of your assistance; seeing her in the gym one evening and staring between the punching bag on the ground and then back up at the hook on the ceiling with a frown.

You had to smile, seeing the other woman obviously trying to figure out a way to get the equipment where she needed it but unable to find a solution. “Seems I’m always in the right place at the right time these days.”

Turning to see who had joined her, Natasha folded her arms and tilted her head with a small smile, “I suppose you are, yes.”

You walked over to join her, bending down to grip the chain at the top of the punching bag before lifting it carefully towards the ceiling and clipping it into place. Natasha watched intently as you did so, her eyes drawn to the flex and strain of the muscles in your arm with the action. Instinctively she swallowed, feeling a small lump in her throat and a dryness to her mouth that she hadn’t been prepared for. Of course it was no secret that you were enhanced but she couldn’t deny it was impressive to see an example of your strength. Especially in such close proximity.

Turning back from the punching bag, you didn’t fail to notice the way Natasha’s eyes were focused on you and the slight flush to her skin. You broke out into a smirk, flashing the red head a wink for good measure as you gestured to one of the corners of the gym, “I’ll be just over there if you need help with anything else.”

(3 ft)

Getting a knock at your door one afternoon, you weren’t particularly surprised to see Natasha on the other side of it. Granted you weren’t the closest of friends but you felt like your relationship with the other woman had been improving over the last few weeks. There was a sort of ease that had settled over the pair of you, finding it almost effortless to be in one another’s company. Comfortable silences were becoming more common and playful, flirtatious banter had quickly replaced the usual indifference towards one another.

Despite not being surprised to see the other woman, you couldn’t help but be a little shocked by what came out of her mouth when you answered the door.

“Can you come and help me with something?”

Leaning against the door frame, you thought for a moment and shot the red head a playful smile, “Is there a please in there somewhere?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, “Please.”

“Lead the way.”

Following behind Natasha, you were even more surprised when she took you to her bedroom, having never seen the other side of her door before. The room was predictably nice and tidy, not to mention tastefully decorated.

Natasha didn’t give you much time to take in your surroundings, clearing her throat to get your attention, “I um ... I need this mirror hanging.”

You looked down to where the red head was pointing, seeing a large, tall mirror leaning against one of the walls, “And what? It’s too heavy?”

“I can’t reach.” admitted Natasha, her words quiet as if she didn’t want anyone to actually hear what she’d said as she motioned over to the far wall, “It’s like a six foot mirror and well ... that’s a little out of my reach. Plus, yeah, it’s really heavy so I didn’t exactly want to be stood on a ladder with it.”

Nodding your head in understanding, a small smirk made it’s way across your face, “So you, Natasha Romanoff, need my help?”

“Don’t be an ass about it, this is exactly why I didn’t want to ask one of the boys.” grumbled Natasha.

Laughing quietly, you gave her shoulder a small squeeze as you walked over towards the mirror and assessed what needed to be done, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

Natasha settled herself on the edge of the bed, neither one of you speaking as you worked silently at setting the brackets up on the wall and making sure everything was in place. You could feel her eyes on you the whole time, occasionally looking up from what you were doing and receiving a small smile in return.

When you were finally finishing up, you had to admit that Natasha wasn’t lying and the mirror was indeed very heavy. You huffed out a breath as you lifted it into place, straining slightly as you tried to get it level and hook it onto the brackets, “Jesus Nat, what’s it made of? Solid gold? This thing weighs a tonne.”

She chuckled at your comment, laying down on her side and resting her head on her hand as she watched you hang the mirror in place, “But you make it look so effortless.”

“Oh so that’s what this is,” you laughed, turning to face the other woman, “You just wanted to check me out.”

Natasha clutched a hand to her chest in mock horror, “Me? I would never.”

“Sure you wouldn’t.” you teased, bending down to scoop up the few tools you’d used and placing them on the bedside table next to Natasha. Giving the other woman a grin, you stepped close enough that you could gently pat the side of her cheek a couple of times, “Don’t worry though, I don’t mind checking you out too if that makes us even.”

For a moment it looked like she didn’t know what to say, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she was trying to work out if you were being sincere. By the time she spoke you had already stepped back and made your way towards the door.

“Not sure I have nearly as much to show off about.”

Turning back to face her for a moment, you let your eyes trail over her body slowly and purposefully before looking back at her with a smirk, “Oh I would have to disagree with that.”

(4 ft)

“What you making?”

Your words seemed to startle Natasha, the spoon she was stirring her food with dropping against the side of the pan with a clatter as she gasped and turned to glare at you, “It’s rude to sneak up on people!”

“Well I didn’t exactly sneak.” you chuckled, walking around the breakfast bar to stand beside the other woman and peer down at the stovetop, “So what is it?”

Natasha shrugged, “Just pasta.”

“How exciting.”

Pushing you in the arm playfully at your tone, Natasha gave you a mock scowl, “I was going to offer you some but now I’m not so sure.”

“Well how do I even know you’re a good cook, it might be awful.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, dipping the spoon into the sauce in the pan and scooping some of it up. She held her free hand underneath it so not to drop any as she moved the spoon towards your mouth and raised her eyebrows expectantly, “Open up then.”

Looking down at the food cautiously, you blew on it for good measure before opening your mouth and taking the sauce from the spoon. You swallowed, running your tongue over your lips as you assessed the taste before pulling a face, “Needs more salt.”

“I know.” sighed Natasha, stirring the sauce again with a defeated slump to her shoulders, “But it’s in the top cupboard.”

At her words you had to laugh, running your hand over her back comfortingly, “Aww can you not reach the salt?”

“Don’t be a dick.” scolded Natasha, hitting you gently in the stomach but not shying away from your touch on the small of her back.

Reaching up to the cupboard above her head, you pulled it open and looked inside to retrieve the salt, earning you a quiet thank you from Natasha in return. It didn’t pass either of you by that even as the pair of you had settled into silence and the red head busied herself with adding the salt to her food, your hand remained on Natasha’s back, your thumb occasionally brushing delicately over her shirt.

The fact she seemed to enjoy the contact, almost leaning back into you to get closer, made your next words fall easily from your lips.

“How about for dinner tomorrow, I take you out somewhere?”

Natasha paused her stirring of the pan for just a second, your question taking her a little by surprise. You both knew that things had been leading this way, with every day that went by you seemed to be getting closer. The flirting, subtle touches and lingering stares were common place now and it was no secret that you were both clearly attracted to one another. Natasha supposed she just hadn’t expected you to ask her so casually and boldly. Still, she couldn’t deny it was what she wanted.

“Okay. I’d like that.”

(5 ft)

“This was nice.” offered Natasha, her arm slipped in to link with yours as you walked through the doors and back into the compound.

You nodded, tilting your head to look at her with a smile, “It was.”

“Thank you for dinner.”

Walking the red head down the corridor towards her room, you shrugged nonchalantly, “Thank you for joining me.”

The rest of the walk was silent until you reached Natasha’s door, the other woman reluctantly removing her arm from yours and taking a step back, “Next one’s on me.”

“Next one?” you asked with a grin.

Natasha nodded her head, reaching forward to smooth her hand over the front of your shirt, “If you want there to be a next one.”

“I think I could handle that.” you joked, bringing your hand up to join Natasha’s and brushing your thumb over the top of it.

The two of you stood in silence for a few moments, a small smile on your face as you simply enjoyed being in one another’s company for a little while longer.

Natasha smile widened as she watched your line of sight drop for just a second to her lips, now certain enough that you were probably thinking the same thing that she was. Giving you a playful grin, she took a step closer, “You know I would kiss you but, you’re a bit out of my reach.”

With a small laugh, you nodded your head slowly and reached down to cup the side of her jaw with your hand, “How about I come down to your level for once?”

Allowing you to tug her closer, Natasha smiled into the kiss as you ducked your head and brought your lips together. Neither one of you felt the need to rush or deepen it, happy to move your lips slowly together as her hands came to rest around your waist and your fingers brushed the side of her cheek. The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but when you pulled back you were pleased to see that Natasha looked just as happy as you felt. Giving her hand a final squeeze, you nodded to the door behind her, “Go on, get inside before I change my mind and don’t let you leave.”

Laughing at your comment, Natasha reached up to grip the back of your neck and pulled you back down to her level so that she was able to press a kiss to your cheek, “You know, I see a lot of leaning down in your future.”

“Honestly? I really don’t mind.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow #marvel #Natasha Romanoff fanfiction

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mxpseudonym · 3 years

Text

More, Even If It’s Too Much

Pairing: Arthur Shelby x OC or she/her pronouns Reader

Summary: Arthur falls for his innocent, young bookkeeper who doesn’t actually have an innocent bone in her body

Length: 1396 words (allegedly)

Warnings: Age difference, Manipulation, Unhealthy-ish ideals

Request: for the arthur smut idea - how about the reader is younger than him, maybe her 20s and she is somehow around the shelbys a lot and he falls madly in love with her but doesn't want to bother her cause she seems really innocent and sweet, but in reality she is daydreaming about how he would just have his way with her and she teases him a lot, maybe by sucking on lollipops or whatnot, until he just can't hold it back and somehow they get it on🥵

A/N: I felt rusty when I was writing this, but it was a joy. I hope you like it! I took a liberty and made it a tiny bit dark. If anyone wants to hear about my analysis on my own story, I may just have to share.

He said her name, but all she could hear was a snap.

Pulling Arthur into his office on a quiet afternoon and lifting the hem of her dress to reveal what his Christmas bonus bought her was the last straw to break under her many efforts. Her gaze lifted from where she ran her fingers over the lacy hem of her new garter belt and looked into the dark eyes of her boss.

Arthur looked frustrated and maybe even a bit angry. His fists clenched, and his jaw tightened like he was on the verge of barreling over the line he'd drawn. Her wide eyes narrowed, and her innocent smile shifted into a wicked smirk. This was perfect. He was perfect.

"Have you finally noticed me, Mr. Shelby?"

She was sure the paperweight that cracked against the floor was expensive, but the experience of finally having Arthur push her onto his messy desk was worth more than the whole of this shady company.

"Notice you? Fuckin' hell, lovey, you're all I can think about."

His lips were a bit chapped against her soft ones, always prepared for the possibility that Arthur would lose his good sense like she knew he could.

She'd been around the Shelby's since she started running numbers as a preteen. There wasn’t a day that she didn’t have a crush on the older man. He was all heart, a dangerously open book that she wanted on her bedside table very night. Now as a young lady with a knack for bookkeeping, she was the only thing Arthur insisted on taking to the London offices during the Shelby Co Limited expansion and she was glad.

It wasn’t until a couple of years before when she turned 20 that she realized how much more she wanted to know. What did he look like when he was content or overwhelmed with pleasure? Would he ever get mad at her? About what, she wondered. She wanted to know everything.

Tommy wasn't so sure about it at first. It wasn't a secret, after all. Arthur couldn't touch her without going red and went out of his way to make her life easier any way he could. At some point, even she had to tell him to stop making her so many cups of tea just how she liked it. The eldest Shelby had been ready to risk everything for her for ages. But it wasn't the pining that worried the perceptive middle Shelby.

It was the look she had when no one was watching. Her eyes, only ever set on Arthur, were insatiable. And anything or anyone who pulled Arthur's concentration away from her received a glare that could kill. But maybe what worried Tommy more was that Arthur was a fool.

He was too convinced she was a nice girl who fixed his hair with a tender touch and laughed brightly at his silly jokes. Even when she got Arthur to do whatever she said or steered other women in the opposite direction just to keep his attention, she was still young and assuming to Arthur, which only worked to her advantage.

Nice girls finished last as far as she was concerned. She may have been young and seemingly innocent, but she didn't desire the mad dog of a man without knowing him. With his inability to avoid a devilish addiction, Arthur Shelby only needed to be tempted to devour her. He only needed a little hand brushing, a compliment on his appearance paired with a giggle, a low-cut blouse. She knew it, and Tommy knew she knew it.

"Tommy says I put you on too high of a pedestal," Arthur mused one day when they stood in the back alley of the Eden Club for a smoke break.

Well, Arthur lit his cigarette and forgot to inhale while his eyes followed her swirling tongue around the lemon-flavored lolly. Deciding to quit smoking was an all too convenient addition to her seduction plan. She reached up and plucked what was left of his cigarette from his fingers and tossed it away. She raised her candy to his lips instead, and he was obedient in taking it, making her chuckle.

"It could be higher."

Arthur didn't waste any time, or rather, he didn't quite know how to go slow. It was all or nothing. It was hardly looking her in the eye or hungrily taking in her taste in the back office of the Eden Club.

His calloused hands still had a slight tremble to them even as they pulled down the soft sleeves of her dress, leaving it to pool around her waist, but one hand pressed against the desk beside her, caging her in, while the other trailed along her skin, leaving her gasping. She wasn't going anywhere. A gasp escaped her lips, and a shiver ran down her spine when he ghosted over her nipple. She jumped slightly when his lips ghosted over her ear.

"Are you afraid, lovey?" He rasped in a way she'd always wanted to hear directed at her.

"I'm afraid you'll stop," she answered, her own voice desperate. Arthur leaned back suddenly and looked down at her. Now he wondered just how blind he'd been. Was she always this forward with him?

"And I thought you were a sweet, pure lamb."

She placed her hand over his and guided it lower, beneath the bunched of fabric, and pushed aside cotton until her breathing was shallow and Arthur was dipping between her slick warmth. And yet, her eyes never left his. She licked her slightly parted lips while Arthur swallowed.

"How could I be when you leave me like this every day? I'm not nice, Arthur," she revealed, desperate as ever. "I'm greedy."

She kept his pace easily. It was fluid if you could call it anything other than ravenous. Clothes were forgotten on the floor next to the holsters and the guns. Their names flowed between moans and cries, getting cut short or sighed at an exquisite movement.

Pressed between Arthur and the wall, she was still trying to adjust to his size but refused to let him slow down. She'd been thinking about this for too long, and her own hands weren't enough anymore. Even Arthur teasing her a bit at the beginning, rubbing the head of his weeping cock over her entrance and around her sensitive bud, had been agonizing enough to make her cum before he even put it in. She was losing count of every peak she was experiencing, but all that mattered was that he moved with no resistance. Every sound and experienced movement he made sent heat straight to her core. Arthur was no saint, and he'd certainly been around the bend, but she just as hungry as he was. That was a first.

"More," she moaned as her eyes rolled. Arthur let out a haughty laugh that she didn't mind.

"You think you can take more?" He asked, but he tightened his grip on her thighs and thrust hard and deep into her in the same moment. She could only dig her nails into his shoulder and tug at his hair with a silent cry. "What are you greedy for?"

"You," she finally gasped loudly at the resulting deep thrusts.

"Me?"

"I want every part of you. Even if it's too much," she whined and grabbed Arthur's face in her hands. He was looking at her, watching her, in awe as her eyes welled up and she tightened around him. "And I want you to look at me only. Just always at me. Oh god!"

She shook and bucked against him, her eyes closing tight and her nose scrunching up. Still, Arthur kept her wish of never letting his eyes leave her contorted, euphoric face as she mumbled his name even as he followed her release with his own. She really was something else.

It was perplexing to see her transform back into the girl he thought she was. Even with her cheeks warm and a silly grin on her face from their salacious act, she still looked precious and not like the vixen dragging her nails down his back and biting his skin just moments ago. It made him want to apologize for being so rough. She'd have plenty of bruises of her own in the morning. As if she sensed what he thought while he helped her into her coat, she turned and pulled him down into a kiss.

"Arthur, thank you for taking me so seriously."

"Well, I've loved you for a while, haven't I?" He asked, turning again. She perked up with her usual smile.

"Good. Because I want you to want me more than anything else too."

He scoffed and shook his head. Something else entirely. He reached up and pinched her cheek.

"When you say something like that with such a pretty face, how can I say no, lovey?"

#Arthur Shelby #Arthur Shelby Imagine #Arthur Shelby fic #Arthur Shelby x reader #Arthur Shelby x OC #Arthur Shelby smut #Peaky Blinders smut

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lepusrufus · 3 years

Text

Double edged scalpel ch. 1

It's finally here fellas.

Mandatory warnings: blood, gore, medical stuff and procedures (like...a lot), all the canon typical good and bloody stuff, past abuse and alcoholism, eventual nsfw, strong language.

----

Gold, red and white. With black outlines. A delicate floral pattern carefully embroidered, firm but not rough underfoot. Covering the better part of the room's dark, ancient looking floorboards.

Memorizing every minute detail of the carpet she was standing on was probably better than to dare meet the piercing golden gaze of the castle's matriarch. At least Nicole hoped as much.

Lady Dimitrescu was sitting in front of her, the size of her chair making it look more akin to a throne, and took a long drag of her cigarette. Her eyes fixated on the girl in front of her, almost as if she could measure her worth by glance alone. And in all honesty, she probably could. After a long, drawn out exhale of smoke, the Lady finally spoke.

"You do seem to have an...interesting set of skills that could prove itself useful. That is, assuming you're being truthful."

Nicole's eyes went wide, shock thankfully hidden by her long fringe. She had no documents on her, no way of proving anything about her past. Trying to remember the whereabouts of at least her passport only brought forth a vague memory of drunkenly stumbling in a hotel room that made her cringe internally.

She was about to stammer an excuse, a convincing one she hoped, when a small chorus of giggles came from beyond the closed door. The sound proved to be more interesting than her existence, as the Lady turned her gaze towards the door and waited. Waited for three other women, all in long black robes, to enter the room.

The redhead and brunette seemed to be bickering amongst themselves, while the blonde made a beeline for her mother and passed her a sealed envelope.

"Oh thank you. I will take a look in a moment."

"Who's that?" The redhead, Daniela she deducted, finally took her attention off her sister long enough to notice the room’s other occupant.

"Our newest maid, dears. I was just thinking about what task to give her."

Daniela's eyes gave her a once over and Nicole gulped slightly. "Oh, mother! Have her clean the library!"

"There's already a maid assigned to that," the eldest, Bela, pointed out.

"I have a better idea." Cassandra finally spoke up, before her mother had a chance to intervene in her daughters' back and forth.

The brunette leaned down slightly, close to her mother's ear and whispered something that Nicole could never dream of deciphering. But if the smile that soon followed on red painted lips was of any indication, the middle daughter's idea was brilliant. Or dreadful, depending on your perspective.

"Very well. But you'll supervise her, you know that part of the castle is off limits for the staff."

"Gladly," was Cassandra's response, voice full of mirth.

"Just one thing," Lady Dimitrescu said, opening a drawer from the desk next to her and pulling out a key. "The key to your chambers. For after you've completed your duties."

Nicole took the key with a slight bow and a thank you, my Lady, and unceremoniously shoved it in her pocket, hoping it wouldn't fall throughout the day.

Well that seemed to have gone well, as far as interviews for a job at a castle full of horrors go. Though she really had hoped not to deal with the daughters so soon, let alone be stuck following the family sadist down long corridors to who knows where, only stopping to ask another maid for cleaning supplies along the way.

Beautiful hallways, ornate with priceless paintings, gave way to more barren ones, where the wallpaper had peeled ever so slightly in places and the floor, now stone, had an occasional red stain that whoever was in charge of cleaning this part of the castle did not bother with. They walked until reaching a set of heavy double doors. Despite the slight state of disrepair of the hallway leading up to them, the doors looked extremely well kept. Not a speck of rust on the metal frame nor the lock. The wood looked sturdy and polished, if not for a few almost imperceptible scratches. And the Dimitrescu crest, cut through the middle so half of it was on each door, the flower petals shiny in the low light and beautifully detailed.

Cassandra rummaged through a hidden pocket for a couple of seconds and pulled out an old fashioned key. With a grin, she wasted no time in unlocking the doors and pushing one of them open, enough for the two of them to pass through. Then, just as quickly, the doors were locked again with a click.

The pair descended on a precariously slippery set of stairs, Nicole praying that she wouldn't drop the bucket of water she was now carrying, until they were deep within the bowels of the castle.

She was sure they were headed towards the cells, just slightly out of view across a short dark corridor, but then Cassandra took a sudden right turn. She looked downright giddy. Like a little girl on her way to get her favorite ice cream, walking ahead with a spring in her step. Except her steps turned into menacing echoes, encompassing them in an almost suffocating manner.

At the end of the hallway, Cassandra threw open a smaller set of doors, doing a dramatic spin in the center of the room.

"Welcome to my little… work room. It's quite lovely, but unfortunately a pain to keep clean." The sadness in her expression was nothing more than a poorly concealed act. An act that she didn't care much for keeping up, as she went into a fit of giggles right after finishing her sentence.

Said room was decently sized, a long desk running across one of the walls, while the opposite one had a wide variety of weapons in varying degrees of dirtiness. On another wall various devices that looked very much for torture and very much well used were hanging from hooks or long nails. And finally-...oh.

Oh.

On the far side of the room, two autopsy tables were lined, head end against the wall, their metal surface glistening slightly under the blood -both old and new- splattered on them.

And Nicole was supposed to clean this bloody mess.

"I want every tool in this room sparkling clean, including the tables," the brunette said with a wicked smile.

"Of course, my lady." With a slight bow of her head, Nicole started with the weapons.

A sword, a dagger, a very old looking scythe, another sword but this one made to be welded with two hands and countless more. All with various amounts of blood dried on them. Blood that was surprisingly easy to clean off, aside from a couple more rusty blades. Whatever cleaning products they used, it was clearly very effective at cleaning gory messes. Shocker.

After finishing that portion of the room, Nicole moved to the adjacent wall, where the torture devices were hanging. She started wiping a vaguely human shaped metal frame when she heard light shuffling. It took a decent amount of self control to stay focused on the task at hand and not flinch when Cassandra was suddenly behind her, leaning down next to her ear. She was so close that her brunette hair was lightly brushing against Nicole's cheek, in an annoyingly ticklish manner. So close that Nicole got a faint whiff of roses from the perfume most likely applied earlier that day. It would have been nice if it weren't drowned out by a familiar metallic scent. To the brunette's defense though, it was hard to tell whether the blood scent was from her or from the room itself.

After a few eternally long seconds of just hovering there, Cassandra finally spoke.

"This is one of my favorites." She caressed the metal surface the same way one would a puppy’s head. "We strap men to this, cut their wrists open and let them bleed out." The sentence was finished with a sinister cackle.

It would have crept Nicole out too, if it weren't for the one thought that immediately jumped to the forefront of her mind. That's so ineffective. She weighed her options, with Cassandra still hovering over her shoulder in a position that couldn't have been comfortable given their height difference, and spoke tentatively.

"Wouldn't the femoral artery be more efficient…?"

The other girl froze for a second, narrowing her eyes and then scoffed, finally raising back up.

"Who wants efficiency? The point is to prolong their suffering."

She then dramatically plopped down in a chair, occupying herself with sharpening the curved blade of a sickle. She threw the occasional pointed look at Nicole each time she moved from one device to another to see if it would get a reaction out of her. It didn’t.

The devices were clean and it was time for the autopsy tables. Muscle memory kicked in and the metal surface was expertly wiped, blood and bits of flesh cleaned from every nook and cranny. After that she bent down to pull out the drainage tanks in which blood and bodily fluids accumulated. A piece of advice from what felt like an eternity ago screamed in her mind. When in doubt, hold your breath! And she did. Being used to the smell of decay did not mean being immune to it, and gagging in front of your new employee was quite the bad first impression. Luckily, it wasn't nearly as bad as she expected. Aside from some old stagnant blood, the tanks were otherwise clean. She washed both in the sink nearby and put them back in place with a content smile, hidden by the fact that her back was towards the other girl. When she turned around, Cassandra was scowling, sickle abandoned in her lap in favour of angrily drumming her gloved fingers on the desk's surface. A cold shiver ran down Nicole's spine, sure that she was about to get impaled by that very sickle in the next few seconds. When the brunette rose to her feet, she made peace with the fact that that was how she was going to die. In the humid basement of a medieval castle, on the first day of her job there. But Cassandra didn't approach her. Instead she paced around the room, scrutinizing eyes going over each and every instrument and, finally, on the now reflective surface of the tables. Her golden gaze then zeroed in on Nicole and, with a hint of a growl in her voice, said:

"Alright. We're done here. Follow."

Without sparing her another look, she unceremoniously threw open the doors and started walking down the corridor they had previously traversed. Nicole almost had to do a light jog to keep up with Cassandra's long strides, the glee in her posture now completely gone and replaced by frustration.

After exiting the dungeons and getting back to the more populated areas of the castle, Cassandra called out for the first maid that crossed their path.

"You. Show this one to her quarters," she ordered and took off before the girl even had a chance to finish her yes, my lady.

Nicole and the other girl stood there for a couple seconds, until Cassandra's form dissipated into a swarm of insects and disappeared around a corner. Then the air seemed to be lighter, the threat of death no longer looming over their heads but reduced to a whispered reminder at the back of their minds.

The pair strolled in silence down hallways that Nicole tried to commit to memory, until they reached a set of doors, modest, yet as elegant as the rest of the castle. Beyond them was a large room, with sofas and coffee tables for the staff to gather around with the central space left open. The large windows, occupying the better part of the wall to their left, sported beautifully intricate patterns of tinted glass, held together by heavy iron frames. Nicole mentally scoffed, realizing that she was looking at over glorified window bars and followed the other maid inside.

"Do you have the key to your room?"

Nicole pulled the key from her pants' pocket, pants that were now stained and dirty. Could've at least let me change, sheesh. The other girl took one look at the number engraved on the key and motioned for Nicole to follow her down one of the two corridors that opened up on the far side of the room.

It almost reminded her of the hotels she and her family stayed at during her childhood. Dark hallways with doors on each side, the occasional person scurrying to their room and the big communal area. Except this looked far older and, in a weird way, cozier.

Nicole came close to crashing into the other maid when she abruptly stopped and opened one of the doors, revealing a small room equipped with the necessary furniture for one person.

"Well, look on the bright side: you get your own room." The other girl hummed, handing her the key. "I should get you your uniform. Size?"

"Uh..an S please."

In the five minutes it took the other maid to return, Nicole had time to take in her new home. She also noticed that someone had already placed her duffle bag near the bed. A sigh of relief left her lips at the small consolation that at least the few belongings she brought with her were here. Including her phone.

"Huh. I thought they'd take it-" she had a better look at the screen. "Ah. No service. Of course."

Not that she needed service for anything. The whole point of being there was to be as far as possible from anyone, but being able to check the news would've been nice.

"Here you go!" She was snapped out of her thoughts by the maid’s way too cheerful tone.

Nicole rushed to help with the stack of clothing and, once they were safely on the bed, the other girl spoke.

"There's seven uniforms, one for each day. Laundry is done on Mondays. Two pairs of flats and…" She trailed off pointing at a small wooden basket she had brought with the clothes. "Some toiletries and essentials. There's a perfume and broche with the family crest in there that I advise you make use of. The Lady likes her staff at a certain standard."

Nicole nodded along and sat on the bed, finally letting exhaustion settle into her bones. The last few weeks had been a blurry hell. Everything from running away, to traveling, to coming to the village and finally the castle. She felt ready to curl up under a blanket and sleep for two weeks. But alas, she couldn’t afford the luxury of such rest. She almost forgot that she wasn’t alone in the room, until its other occupant spoke up.

"Oh by the way, what's your name?"

"Nicole," she answered, extending a hand.

"A pleasure to meet you. Anita," the other girl shook it with a warm smile.

#cassandra dimitrescu x maiden #cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #resident evil village #fanfic #double edged scalpel #unhinged maiden™ my beloved

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thejudgingtrash · 3 years

Note

11. “...did you just sniff me?” for percabeth pretty please 🙏🤍🤍🤍

Heya! I’m finally here to come back to this request 😄😄 It took me only a little bit in comparison to other requests, but I'm here!

Also since @percyheartsannabeth, @skaterannabeth and @not-optimistic-petrol-biscuit had asked about fluff. Here you go... Kinda? 😬 Anyway. Here's a monster sneak peek into may I introduce you to my beloved wife? 😋

It took me all day yesterday, but I managed to pump out 11k words. That's a record for a single session in one day (with like two breaks). And yes, that is still not the entire chapter. Here are roughly 9,2k for you to consume!

TW: alcohol, overbearing relatives not minding their own business, a tiny section talking about domestic abuse and Athena and Frederick Chase ain't shit but that's nothing new. Poseidon too, for once. Enjoy!

may I introduce you to my beloved wife?

(*absolutely not proof-read, my bad)

Annabeth sighed. You can do this. You can do this. You’ve already finished the week. Think about the money. Think about the move to California. Push through this day and next week, think about the money and the minute you’ll hand your termination in. She wanted to splash some water up her face, but the makeup that tinted her lips in a luscious rose and added some bronze to her high cheekbones was too expensive to be washed off and hastily reapplied.

It was pre-Dionysus Day, which meant it was merely the calm before the storm. The first sparkling sip of an impending disaster waiting to rollover the roomy Greek villa Percy forced her to stay in. Well not really forced. Forced and bribed her to stay in. That made it sound slightly better. Just think of the one-hundred seventy-five dollars he’s going to transfer into your bank account for your new start in California. I should renegotiate. California is also expensive. Make it two-hundred fifty thousand.

The tall blonde looked at her reflection in the mirror. A young woman full of life was the first thing she had seen in the morning but now she looked tired and annoyed, just how she felt. Something crashed in one of the dozens of rooms next to her and people laughed. Annabeth sighed again. It was the only thing she could do, otherwise she would scream like a banshee, making sure that at least Hermes and Prometheus would check her, if it wasn’t for Percy stuffing socks into her mouth to make her shut up before they got to her. The majority of his Greek relatives had been lovely if not terribly nosy and overbearing. It was the opposite of her family. His was warm and chaotic and for the most part welcoming. Hers? Cold, apathetic, disapproving of everything she did. She had no family in comparison, and neither would she want to compare this wholesome messy bunch to the cold-hearted Athena Pallas and the monster that was Friedrich Chase.

Annabeth respected Hera and Hestia, she definitely side-eyed Aphrodite who was cheating on her husband and she would definitely stay away from Zeus. Crossing paths with him occasionally in the New York office of Atlantic INC. was terrible, seeing him openly be flirty and loosen up during a forced trip was way worse.

This was a bad idea and I have a terrible feeling about this. The burgundy wrap dress that hugged her skin was soft and light but in the Thessalian heat it felt like a sticky cocoon caging her. She wasn’t a beautiful butterfly, ready to burst out and wow everyone. Neither was she a moth drawn to a flame. She was a bug that had been sprayed by Percy with a pesticide, wrapped in toxic chemicals which were slowly dissolving her body, piece by piece.

A knock shoved the horrendous image inside of her head aside. “Yes?” she asked with a firm voice. Too firm with a hint of annoyance, but she was not a professional actress and could not switch her emotions off as she pleased. She was a junior marketing manager for Christ’s sake. Not for much longer. Only two more months…

Percy opened the door. “Are you ready?“ he asked with his usual pleasant baritone reaching her ear.

He wore light linen pants that hugged his legs loosely and a light blue shirt with the first buttons opened up. She could see his defined chest and the swirls of black hair peeking through. The hair was styled into a disheveled curly mess which suited him way better than the gelled back corporate look and he forgot to trim his beard like the day before. Annabeth couldn’t deny what she saw – her tormentor was a very attractive man.

“Do you want to bail?” His sea-green eyes darkened a shade. Worry flashed through them.

Annabeth exhaled sharply for the last time. “I wish I could but then I’d leave you without a fiancé,” she smiled through the pain.

Her glance found her reflection again. The topknot was still intact, and a few strands carefully framed her heart-shaped face. She looked perfect on the outside and she wanted to commit manslaughter in the inside.

“Let’s get over with it,” Percy sighed and stretched his hand out. It seemed like Percy was the one that would rather bail.

Annabeth took it without any complaint. She was the happy girlfriend soon-to-be-wife and holding hands was way better than being forced into kissing him during Sports Day. The Theodoropoulos family truly had planned activity after activity during those two weeks in winter.

“Oh!” Sally peeked into the bathroom and saw her son holding Annabeth’s hand.

“There you are! Is everything okay, mija?” she asked with her sweet Dominican accent and looked at Annabeth.

Annabeth automatically smiled back. Sally was the mother she never had, and it broke her heart crumble by crumble by the sheer charade Percy and she were forced to display for the next six days. Sally Jackson deserved the best. She certainly didn’t deserve being deceived and lied to by her terrible son and his tag-a-long coworker.

“Yes, Percy was just making sure we’re arriving on time.” Annabeth got on her toes and placed a soft kiss on Percy’s stubbled cheek. It tickled but by now she had gotten used to it.

He rolled his eyes, smiled at his mother, nonetheless. Sally’s eyes sparkled and she clapped, clutching her hands tightly. “You don’t know how proud you’re making me, mijo,” she then said teary-eyed.

“You finally found a great girl and she is standing next to you.” Sally wiped a tear away and the awful feeling that sat on Annabeth’s chest and made everything heavier, amplified by a thousand times.

This was way worse than being referred to as the woman that would bear him three to five children presuming with the first one sired on this current vacation by Ares. Yes, Annabeth wanted two children at max, but not definitely now. She was twenty-eight and in the prime of her life! Note: Percy would certainly not be the father of said two children. Unruly blond waves and a mischievous grin blitzed through her head. Pale blue eyes came back from the deepest pit of her memory. Luke. Fuck no, that was even worse than Percy. His betrayal… Annabeth tried to shake the memory off and focused on the ongoing situation in front of her.

Sally truly hoped her son found love and not a quick fling. Oh shit, Annabeth thought and looked up to Percy whose face expressed similar thoughts. His conscience nibbled and guilt flooded his body.

“Mamá,” Percy began and released Annabeth’s hand in order to grasp the older woman’s shoulder.

Sally brushed his large hands off. “No, no! Off you go! You younglings should be downstairs celebrating your reunion with the entire side of Poseidon’s family.”

Annabeth appreciated the fact that Sally was invited and flown out each winter holiday by the Theodoropoulos’. Despite having been divorced from Poseidon for over twenty years, she was still a popular and welcomed guest, not just because of her son’s attachment to the Greek side and his tied division of the Greek family company.

Sally gave each of them a last smile before entering the women’s bathroom. Percy exhaled and pinched his nose. After ten seconds he released the nose and looked back at Annabeth. “Ready?” he asked a final time. Annabeth nodded.

The loud singing, yelling and talking that had been muffled by the bathroom hit her by a tenfold. The place had all the Mamma Mia vibes without the fun singing four days ago. Not anymore, as drunk relatives hit up the shore with loud music and talked loudly in their Pontic Greek dialect.

As the couple descended the stairs and walked through the parlor, a new wave of guests arrived at the same time. Three people that have just entered early adulthood looked up to them. Two men, one blond with a stoic face and bronzed skin, the other was shorter with spiky black hair and a beautiful grin on his lips. The woman next to him was the tallest out of the trio and possessed a high ponytail that would leave Ariana Grande dying out of envy. The dyed lilac hair swung around and nearly reached the middle of her thighs, meaning the hair was even longer without its tight prison on top.

“Thanatos, Zagreus, Megaera!” greeted Percy and gave each one of them a rib crushing bear hug. They looked pleasantly surprised at seeing Percy being accompanied by a pretty woman his age. It seems like the proposal didn’t reach all of the ends of the Greek world.

They fell into a short conversation in Greek and Annabeth smiled politely next to Percy as she fell entirely out of place. The evil Duolingo owl didn’t prepare her for this experience. Neither did her mother bother teaching her at least their Athenian dialect properly. She could introduce herself in Greek, order a beer, say goodbye and that was it. Thank you, Athena. For nothing again.

“Oh, you must be Annabeth,” Megaera eyed her carefully and Annabeth had the feeling that she could split her open with her hands. Weirdly enough, Annabeth was kind of into it. Megaera wasn’t only as tall as Percy but she was clearly the one with the toughest workout regimen as she displayed her muscular legs and defined arms with a short cocktail dress only a few shades darker than her hair.

“Yes,” Annabeth squeaked. She nearly added a ma’am towards the end. Megaera cocked her dark eyebrow. She had an aura that demanded respect.

“Interesting to see the woman who captured Perseus’ heart. It seems that he did develop a good taste after all. Calypso was as pretty as the crescent moon flower but sadly as dull as his corny jokes are.” Megaera’s deep smirk was a stamp of approval as her eyes roamed all over Annabeth.

“Hey!” Percy interrupted and placed a firm hand on Annabeth’s waist, as if he was trying to mark his territory.

“You have your own toys right to your right,” he then added with a playful tone.

Megaera actually laughed and waved dismissively. “That doesn’t mean there isn’t room for more.” A clear offer which left Annabeth’s face turn into a fiery tomato red.

“Anyway, we have some catching up to do,” Thanatos proposed as Zagreus and he silently watched the conversation blossom. He sounded as reserved as he looked.

“Indeed,” Zagreus agreed, surprising Annabeth with a posh English accent. “Father will murder me if we miss out on his moussaka. It’s to die for you need to try it, Annabeth, at least before Hephaestus gets ahead of himself.”

Annabeth laughed. The Theodoropoulos did have their positives. “I will, Zagreus,” she nodded.

“Oh please, if aunt Sally gave her go for you to stay here, you’re as good as family. We’re Than, Zag and Meg for you,” Zagreus offered.

“Annabeth is already my nickname but thank you for the kind offer!”

The three new guests went on to join relatives and friends at the party which seemed to get more chaotic by each passing minute as the volume seemed to increase.

“My cousin Zagreus from my uncle Hades’ side,” Percy explained as the three went out of his sight.

“Are they friends? Or…”

“Pretty sure they’re polyamorous. You know, I don’t know, and I honestly don’t really care, I see Zag once every twelve months at max. Just don’t stick to Meg’s side for too long otherwise she’ll turn you into her fiancé.” Percy’s tone suggested that he was not joking.

“Oh.” Annabeth didn’t know what to think of it.

Percy closed his eyes as if he was making a silent prayer, before his sea-green met Annabeth’s light gray ones. She smelled like lemon with a hint of lavender, instead of roses like normally. Delicious. If it weren’t for the fact that it was Annabeth.

“So, listen. You know I’ve talked about Dionysus Day and how his birthday brings out the worst side of everyone.”

Annabeth nodded as Percy went on to explain.

“Pre-Dionysus Day is basically same with the only exception that my great-grandmother’s house is filled with the entire family. Yes, we’re expected to eat, drink, laugh, drink, dance, drink, reminisce on our past, drink, make fools out of ourselves in order for them to take blackmail pictures and drink some more, but no matter how much they want you to open up… try to control yourself. Everything you say can and will be used against you.”

Annabeth’s stomach started to churn, and her knees slightly gave in. “Look, I’m truly sorry for the mess that I’ve caused,” Percy looked directly into her eyes and tried to ignore the rosy streaks across her flushed cheeks. “And my relatives can be overbearing. But if we manage to stick through this night and the next one tomorrow, we’re as good as done with playing games.”

“Fine,” Annabeth gritted through her teeth. She had agreed to the terms and condition. She didn’t need a reminder of the stupid decision she made two months ago.

“Let’s go.”

She placed her hand on the doorknob that separated the parlor from the huge living room. Percy followed her as she opened the door. A wave of laughter, wine, ouzo, discovered secrets, cigarettes, sweat and fun hit them.

“Oh wow, someone should open a window.” Percy suggested as he coughed. Luckily cousin Metis had the same idea. No, aunt Metis. Or was it Thetis? Why did Percy need to have so many relatives with similar names again?

“Oh, Annabeth, look at you!” Aphrodite had snuck up behind them and surprised the fake couple by hugging each of them and nearly spilling the expensive Greek vintage in her hand on Percy’s shirt. The red alcoholic liquid carelessly swirled in her glass and more than often seemed to want to escape from her clutch.

“Aphrodite, be careful!” Percy reminded her as she dug her fingers into his arm. Her nails were as fake and bought as was the bond between Annabeth and Percy.

“Oh, please cousin, you should learn how to loosen up!” She laughed, but it sounded more like the shrill sound a bird made when it got nearly hit by a car. The high pitch made Annabeth slightly frown.

“Take your girl upstairs and show her all the Zorbas moves you got!” She wiggled her badly overdrawn eyebrows.

Aphrodite had always been the poster child of perfection. She knew how to dress her curvaceous body the right way, she knew how to apply the perfect touches of makeup on her face and she was the most graceful being Annabeth had ever met. Seeing her so disheveled left the blonde American content. It showed that Aphrodite wasn’t one of the gods, she was a mortal mess like they all were. That, and it was kind of funny seeing the abrupt transition from oozing perfection to looking like a rough mess after a couple of glasses of wine.

“If you know what I mean, you two know what I mean, right?”

“Yes,” Annabeth and Percy answered. Unfortunately, they did.

“That reminds me, this is such a pretty dress that you got!” Aphrodite’s eyes widened and she tugged at Annabeth’s sleeve that went slightly over her elbows. “Percy needs to bring me a couple of those the next time he visits. Oh wait! You’re about to marry, Annabeth can take me shopping. I want to visit New York next summer. When was your wedding again?”

Panic filled Annabeth she tried to stutter a lame excuse like they had done the entirety of the stay. Aphrodite’s brown eyes found something else to focus on in the meantime. Her hand went out to poke the tall blonde’s chest as she went on to pull on the thin fabric.

“You should show the men what you got! Free the girls!” Aphrodite yelled over the loud music, pushing Annabeth’s C cup to its limits. “Let Percy stand in the corner with that stupid frown, all jealous and depressed while you’re out on the hunt!”

Percy did not look amused especially since he tried to pull Annabeth away.

“Yeah, just like that!” Aphrodite’s glass pointed directly at his face as Annabeth tried to shove Aphrodite’s fickle fingers aside. “Oh, if I were just a little bit younger and not tied to your cousin…”

“You mean cousins,” Percy corrected and made a step backwards as Aphrodite’s dreamy and drunk dazed focus shifted from Annabeth to him.

“Aphrodite, leave Percy and his future wife alone,” Hera arrived to save the stressed couple and rolled her eyes. “Go harass Hephaestus and try to be a faithful wife for once in your life.”

She still looked like she had a massive stick shoved up her ass by the way she stood entirely straight next to them, but Annabeth appreciated the gesture. If Hera didn’t like Aphrodite much, Annabeth would rather join Team Hera than stand alone by the bleachers and under Aphrodite’s charmspeak. Aphrodite pouted and stomped with her feet twice as if she were a toddler and not a grown woman marching towards her forties. Then she stormed off and ran into the arms of her lover, nother husband to spite her mother-in-law and embarrass her even further.

“Malàka,” Hera cursed and lost her cool for one second, before clearing her throat and focusing on the already tired fake engaged couple in front of her. Not even Hera seemed to be averse from drinking a glass of wine or two. “You two definitely need a drink.”

Annabeth agreed with her for once.

She pointed at the bar behind her, which was managed by Dionysus and his wife Ariadne. The number of relatives ganging up on them and demanding new drinks was frightening. Surprisingly Dionysus kept his cool and shoved drinks in people’s hands at an impressive speed.

“Yeah, let’s get over with it,” Percy sighed and took Annabeth’s hand again.

“Are you okay?” Annabeth asked him. She knew from Thalia that Percy rarely ever drank and that his family was to blame for most of it. Percy seemed stiffer and graver than usual as well. As much as she disliked his jokey nature and easy-going demeanor he displayed at work, she’d much rather have that Percy by her side right now. Dionysus Day and the day before seemed like it was hell on earth for him and walking through it each year must take a toll on him.

“Yeah, let’s just each grab a glass of wine. Let them be happy about me shoving this disgusting stuff down my throat.” He thanked Ariadne as she prepared two glasses of the same vintage Aphrodite seemed to have inhaled earlier.

“Thank you.” Annabeth took her glass and sniffed. The wine smelled sickly sweet with a hint of the bitterness that the fermentation process had left. The glass in her hand weighed surprisingly heavy, not because of the wine itself but because of the golden swirls decorating it. The glass transitioned from the crystal-clear transparency into a deep black. A lyre surrounded by a bigger laurel wreath decorated the middle section and a golden snake was wrapped around the stem. The golden rim gave it a nice finish.

“Into a fruitful night,” Percy darkly mumbled over the music. He was really not looking forward to it, which confused Annabeth immensely. She didn’t understand why he pushed himself through this if he really didn’t like the drinking activities. He surely had his reasons, hence her not starting a fight with him over it. It was his family and their tradition after all.

“Into a fruitful night,” Annabeth instead repeated.

Issuing a weird toast as well. Percy Jackson was clearly not a drinker. Their glasses clinked and each of them took a sip. Thankfully grandma Rhea made sure they were well-fed before the festivities began.

“Fuck,” Annabeth muttered. A fine vintage as well. Not as sweet as she thought, it left a hint of sweet cumin as the lingering aftertaste. Her lipstick left a mark on the glass, but she didn’t bother to care as she took another gulp. The wine was nearly finished. She slowly started to understand why ancient civilizations went crazy after this stuff.

As she looked at her so-called fiancé, she saw that his glass was already empty. A grimace rested on his face as well.

“Err, Percy?”

“What?” The dark brooding look on his face was no more.

“Shouldn’t you take it easy?” Annabeth carefully asked. His eyes narrowed.

“I am,” he stated and cocked his head towards his cousin who was still busy playing the barkeeper but kept an overall watchful glimpse on the guests that flooded the gates.

“Dionysus saw me drink. Most importantly he saw us have a drink. That should be enough for me, but if you want some more, be my guest.” He shrugged.

Annabeth felt that she should probably drag his mopey ass out of the party, but it was way too early to leave. “Fine,” she said and asked Ariadne for a refill. Annabeth went in for another long sip. She should definitely stock her wine cabinet once she was back at her shitty apartment. Before the glass reached her lips again, Hermes snatched it away and chugged the remaining wine.

“Hermes, what the hell?!” Ariadne grabbed the glass and pushed her husband’s cousin away. The bored postman was back with his shenanigans.

“My bad, dear wifey, but I’m on a mission here to abduct sweet Annabeth,” Hermes winked and placed his hands around Annabeth’s shoulders.

“What are you up to?” Out of all of the relatives she’s met so far, Annabeth was convinced that everything Zeus had ever sired was a mistake. Zeus himself was a mistake.

“Can you stop being German and boring for once?” he joked. Annabeth’s eyes narrowed. She did not like this one bit. She turned her head around and saw that Percy had been pulled into a conversation by Hypnos and Morpheus. He had completely forgotten about her. Great.

Hermes guided her through the crowd, towards the middle of the room. They had to dodge chairs, drunk relatives, a sofa, chatty relatives, the coffee table and dancing relatives before they made it.

“There she is!” greeted Achilles the confused marketing manager.

Paris, Helen, Patroclus, Hermes and Achilles stood in a circle around a table. Dozens of shots of all sorts of colors were displayed. Annabeth had a terrible feeling about this.

“What is this and why are you pulling me into this?” Annabeth asked and did not like the mischievous grin they all shared. She wanted to go back home and cuddle with Daedalus on her sofa and push his cat ass out of the way before the next steamy Outlander scene hit the screen. Yes, Annabeth was that much of a single that seeing some on-screen action was the best she could get. She hoped that the mangy cat didn’t bother Thalia all too much while she was staying in Greece. She owed her so much already.

“Well, I stayed in your country,” Paris started. “And they have a weird tradition with ouzo. They don’t drink it the way we do, watered down and slowly at lunch and what not…”

Annabeth was still American for the most part and had nothing to do with Germany. The last time she stayed there was nearly thirteen years ago. She didn’t want to have anything to do with Germany. Friedrich Chase lived in Germany. And she fucking hated Friedrich Chase. Therefore, she hated Germany. Things that would never change. Okay, Hamburg was a cool city and she was glad her father moved to Cologne. Should she feel the urge to travel back to Germany for a week or less, she’d go to Hamburg, take ten thousand pictures, and post them on Instagram the minute before she was boarding her flight back to New York. Helping her to enrage her stupid father was all Germany had to offer.

“Germans do ouzo shots,” Patroclus cut to the chase. “And since you’re the newest member of our family…”

“And German!” Paris and Hermes added simultaneously.

“We’ve decided to play this little game,” Achilles added.

“What’s the name of the game?” Annabeth asked. She was only slightly curious. Emphasis on slightly.

“Last man standing. Oh sorry, ladies. Last person standing,” Hermes corrected himself as he placed four shots in front of each person. That was way too much hard liquor to handle. But if she did Jägermeister bombs in her sophomore year of college without any issues, this should be fairly easy.

“What are the rules?” They all looked at her in silence. No rules. No prize. Just drink.

“Oh wow.” The urge to roll her eyes and walk off came back with a force.

“I think I’m going to pass,” Annabeth said and already turned to her right.

“Why?” Helen asked innocently. “Need your man to look after you? The one who’s having an amazing time back there with his third glass of wine?”

Foul game. Annabeth’s head shot to the right. Helen was right. Percy was laughing and looked like he was having a great time chatting with Oceanus and his wife Tethys. Tethys refilled his glass as her husband and Percy broke into laughter once again.

If that’s the case…

“Fuck it, I’m in,” Annabeth agreed. She swallowed the bait and she knew it. There was no reason why she should feel upset about Percy opening up all of a sudden. He desperately needed it. Why she wished to be a part of that, Annabeth did not know.

“Great!” Helen threw her brown mane over her shoulders and grabbed the first glass.

“Για μας!” they all yelled and chugged the liquor. Gia mas, the Greek toast, was repeated every time and it seemed to brighten the mood, despite resting heavily on Annabeth’s stomach. Her college days were over, but she was glad she resisted coughing repeatedly.

Patroclus clutched his stomach after the second shot, Helen ran out after the third, Paris and Achilles were laughing maniacally after the fourth and Hermes mysteriously disappeared after the first one. Annabeth was the last person standing. She placed the crystalized shot glass back on the table and examined the messes around her. The only thing that had happened to her, were that more golden locks escaped from her bun and her lipstick needed some reapplying as she left marks on each glass.

Annabeth tried to take a step away from the table and felt how the world slightly shifted around her. The fact that she would curse and hate herself for her behavior in just six hours, was something drunk Annabeth gladly put aside. The headaches that definitely would haunt her for the rest of the trip didn’t matter, she won and that was all she cared about.

“Hell yeah!” she yelled as all inhibition faded away, leaving pure and raw life force behind. Unbeknownst to her, Annabeth had moved right into the circle of dancers.

“Perseus, get your bride before she breaks her legs!” someone laughed. Was it Iapetus? Or was it Hyperion? Who even cared at that point?

The next two hours were a blurred mess. A blackout slowly crept through her mind, leaving foggy memories behind. Annabeth felt how she was dancing with people and how people were laughing. Were they laughing at her or with her? Did it really matter? Why was her hair repeatedly slapping her face, didn’t she tie it up?

She danced with different people, men and women. She really hoped that the guy that looked like a naked Danny DeVito with longer black hair was not Zeus who had lost his shirt and pants. Who was the guy with the sea-green eyes again? Why was he clapping and laughing whenever she was busting a move next to Hermes? Was he important? Why did he remind her of work? The shots might have been a short-sighted idea after one and a half glasses of wine. She probably overestimated the amount of food she had consumed at dinner prior. Wasn’t she supposed to try someone’s moussaka?

“There you are! Ares, stop dancing with her for once. We’re about to leave.”

Ugh. Ares. Not Zeus, but still yucky.

Sea-green eyes. Percy, of course. How could she have forgotten the asshole that brought her into this whole mess? He seemed fairly sober, didn’t he have a glass or three of wine? Annabeth was certain, she’d be able to drink him under the table. His height and his build might put him at an advantage, but if he wasn’t used to drinking, she might have a fair shot.

A rock song was the next song that appeared. Percy wanted to drag Annabeth off the dance floor.

“Oh no!” Aphrodite intervened with a shrill screech. “Give the two lovers some room to show each other affection!”

Hera actually raised her glass for once to show that she actually agreed with one of Aphrodite’s wild ideas. Someone fumbled with the playlist and a Greek slow jam roared through the old speakers.

“Are you guys fucking serious?” Percy muttered under his breath. But roughly eighty pairs of eyes were all but watching the soon-to-be betrothed and waited for a romantic dance which reminded Percy more of the horrors that the eight-grade dance was.

Annabeth drunkenly hiccupped and looked at him in surprise as she felt one of his hands around her waist and the other one taking her hand. They rocked as if it was the final dance at prom. Annabeth barely remembered prom. Oh right. Her mother had forbidden her from going. She never attended prom.

A casual glimpse through the crowd showed her that people were actually filming this nonsense and some women were actually cooing. Did… did they seriously think this back and forth with sweaty clothes on was romantic? Her eyes found Percy’s again.

“So…” he began.

“So…” she repeated.

“Careful!” he warned her before twirling her through the tight circle. People screamed and applauded. A camera flash blitzed through the darkness twice.

“Oof,” Annabeth groaned. Her stomach and equilibrium did not appreciate that sudden movement.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do that again,” Percy swore. The rocking motion made both of them sleepy. Annabeth suppressed a yawn, rested her head on his shoulder. Percy could make the perfect comfy bed, if he wanted to.

Percy, sensing that people were awaiting some action from either of them, placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face up. Annabeth’s eyes widened. Is he going to kiss me in front of them? Again? her panicked brain asked. She was turned into stone, not by Percy’s distant cousin Medusa who had eaten most of the truffles, but by the tenderness of his actions. He was one solid actor.

Percy placed a soft kiss on her forehead, before moving on to a temple. Annabeth blushed and buried her heated face in his chest as he released her. Intimate, soft and sweet. The screaming relatives disrupted their comfortable silence yet again. The slow song came to an end and the next upbeat one invited everyone back to the dance floor. Annabeth released herself from Percy’s tight embrace and just bolted. Damned be nausea. A wave of coldness hit her. She felt something she didn’t like the minute Percy had softly kissed and soberness woke her at a start. What was it? Anger? Disappointment? Longing? She didn’t know and she didn’t want to know.

“Annabeth!” Percy shouted, but the amount of people standing in his way made it more difficult for him to keep up with her. His hand brushed over his own lips.

Annabeth opened and closed doors left and right. The kitchen, the dining room, the smoking room. She hasted through the first floor until she found another lost soul in the fireplace room. Why the villa had a fireplace room in the first place, she did not know. It had been super-hot the entire time but what Annabeth understood as heat and what native Greeks deemed as hot temperatures didn’t have to correlate.

Great-grandmother Gaia’s humming faded away. The eldest of the Theodoropoulos looked up from the pair of socks she was knitting. When she came to find out the intruder was Annabeth, joy spread over her face.

“Come, come!” The broken English that she softly spoke reminded Annabeth of her own grandmother. She hadn’t seen Elsbeth Lilienthal-Chase since she had left Germany. And since her mother didn’t give her a chance to say goodbye, she didn’t have a phone number to reach her with. The only way would be through that asshole Friedrich Chase, and the only time she’d willingly let someone contact that man was if she had been six feet under and he would be forced to show up for one important family event for once.

“I was unable to sleep. Parties aren’t something for me. I’m too old and boring for my children and their children,” Gaia sighed as Annabeth took a seat on the green sofa next to the light blue armchair. All of the cushioning seemed to have been made by Gaia as the socks had the same pattern as the pillow that Annabeth leaned against. Balls of wool surrounded the older woman as if she sat on a field of fresh tulips.

“Drink, drink! You need water. I’m pretty sure you danced a lot.”

Annabeth kindly took the offer, grabbed the carafe and poured herself a little bit of water into a small glass. The water was surprisingly cold and refreshing.

“My children deem me crazy,” Gaia continued. “The war with the ottomans. Deportation. Fleeing and seeing death everywhere. Losing my father in the chaos. Then the big world war after that twenty years later. They don’t want to listen to the same stories. They only want to have fun. So, they sent me away.”

Annabeth felt terrible for the old lady. It looked like she had been through hell and back in her youth. She didn’t look like she needed much, only someone to listen to her.

“I won’t bore you much,” promised Gaia.

Gaia’s tanned leathery hands continued working on the little socks. “Don’t worry about tomorrow, dearie. We have plenty of acetaminophen and other hangover remedies. Tomorrow will be even worse, because Dionysus wants to celebrate his birthday with even more wine,” the old woman laughed, and her green eyes twinkled full of life.

“I also was young once…”

The two sat in comfortable silence, only interrupted by Gaia’s humming or Annabeth refilling her glass of water.

“So,” Gaia began.

“So?” repeated Annabeth.

“You are the woman that tamed my little Perseus,” the older woman grinned.

Oh no.

Annabeth had a lump in her throat and drinking water to solve it, didn’t work. She wasn’t just lying to Zeus and his wife. She was lying to an entire clan, from the youngest to the oldest members. What Percy and she were doing wasn’t right, neither was it fair. Sure, Percy’s shitty uncle didn’t help much by forcing him to marry the next person, but did the rest of the family deserve to be deceived as well? No, they didn’t, and that truth rested heavily on Annabeth’s narrow shoulders.

The fact that Gaia looked so much like her great-grandson was crazy. They possessed the exact same shade of sea-green. It was passed onto Rhea, Percy’s grandmother, and then Poseidon, Percy’s fucked up father. Always full of intelligence and calculation. Shifting easily from delighted and full of life to the crashing anger of a storm. Power and knowledge were key features of Gaia’s eyes.

“How did you meet my sweet Perseus again?” Gaia innocently asked but Annabeth knew that there was some sort of ulterior motive behind her question.

“At work,” she honestly answered, and Gaia smiled. The old lady was able to sense the truth.

“He’s not my direct boss, but we run into each other a lot. And we hated each other from the moment we saw each other.” Annabeth remembered how she accidentally spilled her hot coffee all over his shirt. She had been public enemy number one from then on.

“He’s an excellent boss, as much as I hate to admit it. He knows his ways around and is passionate about the ocean and its inhabitants. Definitely more passionate than me, I’m just there for the money. He actually wants to make a difference. And he’s extremely annoying, might I add.”

Gaia burst into laughter and needed a minute to calm down. Annabeth cracked a toothy grin. “Ah yes, I can see how you fell in love with him.”

Doom. Uneasiness. Discomfort. The lump in Annabeth’s throat grew bigger and bigger. Why was her vision so blurry all of a sudden? She looked down at her dress. Dark dots appeared. More sprinkled across her lap as Annabeth realized she was crying.

“I’m so sorry,” Annabeth sniffled. “I… Percy… I…”

Gaia put her knitting utensils aside and set herself upright in the armchair. “Oh no, what is going on, Annabeth?”

The calming hand on her back did not help the young professional at all. No, Gaia’s honesty and curiosity made it way worse.

“Percy and I… we’re not engaged. We did it because Zeus-” Annabeth tried to confess, but Gaia brushed her off.

“It’s okay, Annabeth. I know,” the old woman smiled.

The tears that smeared her foundation or rather what was left of it ceased to fall. “You what?!”

Shock widened Annabeth’s light gray eyes.

“I knew from the minute you stepped into my house. I’m pretty sure Rhea knows as well.”

Annabeth’s jaw fell open. “B-but how?!” she stuttered and felt like an utter and complete idiot. The first few days had been rough and difficult, but now she thought that Percy and she conveyed the illusion of being a happy couple.

“You were scared of everything including him the minute you arrived,” Gaia warmly smiled. The infectious warm smile of a grandma looking out for her little chicks. Was Annabeth now one of them?

“I knew something was off with that sudden engagement of yours with the way you two behaved. Either you were pregnant, or it was a ruse. Since you are heavily drinking and paper thin, it was clear that there was no pregnancy. You young people truly don’t eat enough anymore,” Gaia shrugged, patted Annabeth’s knee and went back to knitting the sock.

“But now… it all makes sense. You do feel something for each other. Even if you are blind to it for now.” She continued to hum. “I just hope that my dear Perseus will be the young and carefree boy he was all those years ago one day again. And I do believe that you are the key in finding him hidden underneath all those layers and walls he had put up due to his father.”

Annabeth didn’t even close her mouth during the elder’s monologue. Did Gaia seriously connote that she… that Annabeth Chase… might feel something for her soon-to-be boss? Madness. Absolute madness. She took everything she had thought of the friendly old woman in front of her back. Maybe her relatives did have a point, when they decided to brush Gaia off due to her old age.

Annabeth? And feeling something for Percy? If that something was hatred and the utmost rage, absolutely yes. But… anything else? She would receive a hefty sum on her bank account and would put in her two weeks the minute she found a better job in California.

“You know… there is a tale I’d like to tell about men.”

And Annabeth would prefer to place the glass back on the table, throw the heels away, storm out and run to the next airport.

“They are stupid vapid creatures,” Gaia carried on.

Annabeth snorted behind her glass. “That is certainly true,” she agreed and earned an honest grin from Gaia.

“My dear husband Ouranos with whom I had all of my dear children decided one day that one woman was not enough. And that twelve children were not enough.”

Twelve children?! Annabeth's womb just twisted and turned in protest. The shocked expression on Annabeth’s face made Gaia chortle loudly.

“Oh yes, back in my day we were all very fruitful,” Gaia affirmed.

“That sounds horrible,” Annabeth interjected.

“Oh, only the birth part and the eighteen years after it,” the older woman dismissed her which made Annabeth in turn laugh again.

“My father was a farmer and he had one piece of advice: never let someone toy with you. You are not a doll; you are a person with morals and dignity, a person with feelings and dignity. Let no one, especially not a man, treat you like a commodity or something to kick around. Well… when dear Ouranos left me and sought our neighbor with bigger breasts… I taught him that lesson. And I did so with my father’s trusted knife that I hung on the wall afterwards.”

There was no knife displayed on the wall. It was a fucking scythe. Large, frightening, brutal. A golden great long sickle with jagged teeth rested on the wall as if it were ready to cut you up into one thousand pieces. Was there really dried blood stuck on the teeth or was Annabeth’s drunken mind making things up?

“The minute our youngest turned eighteen he took off and was never seen again. And now, should a person, in that case my Perseus, not know how to treat you properly, you know what to do,” Gaia advised and took a sip out of her own glass.

“Uh… you mean threaten to cut his genitals off with a large and sharp family heirloom?” Annabeth’s eyes widened again.

“No, dearie…” Gaia gave it some thought. “Well maybe so, dearie,” she then went on. That made Annabeth chuckle again.

“But demand absolute respect from him. Don’t ask him for it. Demand it. I don’t know how but he has dragged you into our family and expects you to play the perfect fiancé. This will eventually blow up in his face and he will drag you along with him. Teach him a lesson, however.”

“You know what? I will!” With Gaia’s official blessing, Annabeth was all smiles and scheming new plots. If the head of the family gave her the approval of kicking Percy’s ass, she definitely would.

Steps echoed in the fireplace room and Annabeth and Gaia’s heads turned to greet the intruder. They didn’t even realize the door opened and closed again.

Gaia’s younger twin who still had some black streaks in the braids marched into the hall, curious about what the two women in front of her were previously talking about. Gaia’s youngest daughter Rhea had joined them. The large blue floral dress made her seem like she never left the late 1960s and the two long braids only added to that sentiment.

“Mamá, what is going on? By the way Percy is looking for you, Annabeth,” Rhea informed her grandson’s alleged fiancé before taking a seat in front of her and grabbing one of the many balls of yarn in front of her mother. Rhea then went on to play with it as if she was a six-year old.

“Oh no, Rhea, Annabeth and I were just chatting about love and life,” Gaia batted her eyelashes.

“You see, I gave Rhea the same advice about her disgraceful husband when he went out to seek another woman.”

Rhea rolled her eyes behind the large pentagonally glasses. “You and your stories about the scythe, mother,” she sighed.

“I have to make sure the younger generation knows!” Gaia huffed. “I won’t be here for much longer and then-”

“We'll regret all the things we’ve said and done to you, I know mamá, you have been telling me this since I was four years old and spilled my apple juice,” Rhea completed her mother’s sentence.

Rhea’s attention shifted to the smiling blonde in front of her. She grew to like Percy’s fiancé. She had a fire within herself and a backbone, all great things to handle a Theodoropoulos man.

“But my mother is right when she says that the scythe is a trusted tool. Zeus, Poseidon and Hades did scare Kronos with it after he tried some foul things with their sisters. Treated them worse. Did overall horrible things. He never wanted daughters, only sons. Didn’t seem to accept the fact that it was out of my hand.” Rhea squished the ball of light blue yarn in her hand.

“My children were always looking out for me and I will be forever grateful for them. I do hope that you will have the same feelings and love for your children.” It was clear who their father was supposed to be.

“Yes, I hope so as well,” Annabeth squeaked. Did it get hotter in here all of a sudden?

The door opened, and a worried Percy stepped into the fireplace room. “Oh, there you are,” he sighed as he immediately sighted Annabeth’s blonde unruly curls. He had been running from the basement all the way to the roof searching for her. Relief washed over his face like some shower gel from a cheap commercial. Only then did he realize that Annabeth had been cornered by both his nosy grandmother and his even nosier great-grandmother.

“Whatever they’ve been telling you, it’s a lie, it’s wrong and it never happened!” he warned her as he took a seat right next to her.

“Oh please, relax,” Rhea rolled her eyes and threw the wool at her grandson. “We have been talking about mamá’s scythe.”

“Hey!” both Percy and Gaia complained. At least they hadn’t dished out embarrassing stories of him taking off in diapers at night.

“This is expensive! You young people show no respect towards others' belongings,” Gaia cursed.

Annabeth took the blue yarn and placed it back on top of the pyramid of other colors.

“Thank you!” Gaia smiled before she focused on finishing the sock.

“You’ve found your fiancé, Perseus. Now go off back to celebrate and let us old people reminisce about the past and talk.” Rhea lazily waved at them whilst Gaia didn’t even look up from her craft.

“We will,” Percy said while getting up and casually dragging Annabeth along. He kissed both Gaia and Rhea on the cheek, Annabeth threw a hasty “See you in the morning!” over her shoulder before the couple left.

“Are you okay?” Percy asked as he pulled Annabeth aside for a small breather.

She nodded. “It’s just a bit overwhelming with the amount of people that either want to take pictures of us, hope I remember when their youngest kid’s birthday is, or they tell me they hope we have our first baby preferably in less than a year.”

Percy blushed. He didn’t think it was that bad, but then again, men are mostly left out of the baby talk until their mother’s saw that their best friend’s children had their first grandbaby. He truly didn’t have any intention of having a child before the age of forty. He had to save a business from his damned uncle, run and manage said business and preferably find a woman he tolerated enough to marry before he could even think of children.

Percy apologized again. “One week,” he promised her.

“One week,” Annabeth repeated and nodded.

“We’re going in, you’ve missed the high of the party with your talk with my yai yai, but that’s perfectly fine. The first have already left, let’s just mingle for ten minutes or so before we can-”

The door flung open. “There they are!” yelled Hermes who was followed by Zephyrus and Hercules.

None of them had any intention of letting the party stop before five in the morning. It was merely two. The minute Hermes had his sights on Annabeth, he knew that he had found his best drinking buddy aside from Dionysus himself. Oh no, Annabeth thought and rightfully so.

The minutes of calmness and rest next to Gaia did their wonders because Percy and she were thrust back into the party at full force. She didn’t exactly remember when the blackout happened, but it was roughly thirty minutes later. She was drinking, she was dancing, she was completely making a fool out of herself. The hair? A mess. Annabeth herself? Don’t even think about it. She had been dancing with Hermes and Patroclus, Aphrodite accidentally stepped on her foot one time when Ares approached her.

Percy broke his own promise and accepted a fourth glass of wine from Dionysus who insisted on it. That glass was his doom. The last droplet touched his tongue and his world turned into a flashy mist, his consciousness was broken into pieces, fragmented and sprinkled across the floor. Where he was, when he was and who he was were things he couldn’t remember. The only thing that popped up in his mind were waves of solid gold. Was it hair? Could hair truly move like that and possess that texture? And a whiff of lemon with a hint of lavender crawled up his nose. It was an odd combination, but it felt safe and like home. He liked this smell. Where did he smell this before?

Percy didn’t care, he had other matters to attend to. The first thing on the docket was finding the bathroom, he had drunk way too much. The house had weird rules in regard to bathrooms. Was it the left side or the right side that the young men could use? Why did his uncle Hades have to break two sinks in a span of a week when he was sixteen again? Why were women and others allowed to do whatever they wanted? His great-grandma and her weird plans were always set to make him fail somehow. Things that she had thought of decades ago still bore fruit today.

Percy stumbled upstairs and turned right and prayed the doors he was opening were empty bathrooms and not relatives making out. That was just what he needed. The first door he opened was of his great-uncle Oceanus and Tethys who had a face mask on her face and pink curlers up her hair. At least the old people still knew how to behave. He hoped his mother had left the party hours ago. He apologized and closed the door. The next one was an empty bedroom, his even maybe. No, his bedroom was on an entirely different floor. Or was it?

The next bedroom was closed off thank god, but from the sounds on the inside it seemed like cousin Eos and her newest catch Orion had some fun. Disgusting, Percy thought before he moved on. The next door was what he was looking for. A bathroom. Lit up, clean and empty. Empty if it wasn’t for this one woman who was clutching the brims of the polished sink. She was tall, the golden hair equaled a rat nest and her red dress seemed to have witnessed a lot.

“Ugh,” she muttered and looked into the mirror. Her eyes found his immediately.

“Percy?” she turned around.

Oh right. He was Percy Jackson, thirty-one, single, hopefully the new CEO of Atlantic INC., he had a fantastic apartment in the Upper East Side with an amazing view and he was in Greece to impress his family with his fake fiancé in order to secure his father’s legacy. His fake fiancé being Annabeth Chase, a woman he loathed, had to pay a little hush money and hoped would leave the company fairly soon after.

“You’re in the men’s restroom,” Percy then stated.

Annabeth looked around. No, it was not the same bathroom she used in the morning. Oh yeah, Gaia’s weird bathroom rules.

“Honestly who cares?” the junior marketing manager complained. “A toilet’s a toilet, no matter who uses it.”

Percy shrugged. Annabeth had a point but it wasn’t their house so they couldn’t dictate the rules.

“I wanted to retouch my makeup, but I didn’t find my makeup bag.” She walked steadily to Percy, but it was clear to both of them that she had her fair amount of shots in her system.

“Yeah, it’s probably in the other bathroom. Wait, let me use the bathroom for a second and then we can head back to our room and you can look for your makeup.”

Annabeth nodded and waited on the outside while Percy was tending his business. After drying his hands, he opened the door and found Annabeth yawning in front of one of his yai yai’s paintings. It showed the scythe from the fireplace.

“In all honesty, your great-grandmother is an amazing woman. I admire her. Showing kindness and strength each day. How old is she?”

“Turning 106 next October,” Percy smiled at her. “She always said she wanted to live long enough to see her favorite descendants find their own happiness, whatever it may be.”

The softness in his voice made Annabeth’s heart ache. She turned her head back to the painting. She was a nobody. She had no family, no traditions she could upkeep. She didn’t even have a steady relationship in the past five years. Fucking Luke Castellan. He also had to take that from her as well. Make her suffer. That’s what Athena, Friedrich and Luke all thought at the same time. And they all had nearly reached their wicked goal if it hadn’t been for her stubbornness and will to eventually blossom into something else. The first step towards that something else resided within her move to California. She wanted to leave everything and everyone behind and start a new life, somewhere where no one knew her.

A thumb brushed over her cheek. Annabeth looked up to Percy. She hadn’t even realized she was sobbing again.

“Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay,” Percy assured her. His hands found her sides, pulling her into a soft hug.

A true fiancé level hug. Annabeth had never felt that comfortable within a man’s reach. Percy might have been an awful and annoying coworker, but he truly cared about his fellow people. The way they slowly rocked and kept hugging each other reminded her of the school dance work they had put on the floor earlier. But this time it was real. This time there was no one taking pictures or yelling into their ears, or the demand to see a kiss.

Annabeth rested her face in his chest and Percy leaned his head on hers. It was like they had been made for each other. A welcoming scent greeted Percy. Lemon and lavender. The person stuck in Percy’s crumbled mind had been Annabeth. She was his anchor in the havoc his relatives had created in such a short time. He took a deeper breath. It felt reassuring.

“Did you just sniff me?” Annabeth laughed as she pulled away from him.

“You do smell good!” he defended himself with a stupid grin on his mouth.

“Oh, wait you’re super drunk,” she giggled again as she saw his widened pupils that had pushed the darkened sea-green iris away.

“Well, look at you,” he retorted.

They looked at each other. Aside from the bumping music and the noises people made downstairs it had been completely silent. He missed her warmth; she missed his comfort. Neither would have guessed that a simple embrace could offer so much. Neither would have thought they would take it to the next step within a split second.

One last look. A last time sea-green and light-gray met before each set of eyes closed and their lips met with a brutal force in the middle. Their teeth clacked but it didn’t matter to them. What mattered now, was the moment. Forgotten was the alcohol, forgotten were the troubles of past, present and future. Forgotten were the friends and relatives in the building and back in New York.

So... what do you think? 😄 Like I said, this is not the entire chapter 🤷🏾‍♀️ I honestly feel bad for cutting the chapter off because it's really getting more interesting from that point on 💁🏾‍♀️ I'll probably continue working on this once I've published the next act of The Fool 🥳

Also Greek people, if something seems off with this (aside from random English at times lol) hit me up, I definitely have to do more research!

#mel answers #pjo #percy jackson #Annabeth chase #percabeth #percabeth fanfic #may I introduce you to my beloved wife #mel writes #hoo #heroes of olympus #percy and annabeth #pjo fanfic #percy jackson and the olympians #mel spoils

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alwaysachorusgirl · 3 years

Text

Of Wolves and Witches

Pairing: Werewolf!Bishop Losa x Witch!Reader

Word Count: 3088

For: covers the monster square for @adarafaelbarba 's moodboard fall bingo

TW: violence and accidental death via a nightmare/flashback sequence, brief mentions of mental, emotion, and physical abuse, PTSD, and covering up a crime scene

Author's Notes: The Mayans Werewolf AU that no one asked for, but i wrote it anyway. It starts out dark, but ends with fluff, I promise. This is my first time writing for Bishop, so please go easy on me... a big thank you to @itsjustmyfantasyroom for letting me run this idea by her and reassuring me that it wasn't crazy, and for encouraging me to write it.

Tags: @madamsnape921; @prurientpuddlejumper; @thatesqcrush; @welcometothemxdhouse; @raulesparza4eva; @teamsladsandgents; @rosequcrtz

He stormed into your living room, rage storming in his eyes. His aura was a swirling void of red and black. He shouldn’t have been able to break the locks on your front door, he shouldn’t have been able to walk right through your magical wards, but here he was. You straightened your posture and stood your ground, determined to not let him see how terrified you were.

“How did you get in here?”

“Really?” He pulled a glowing amulet from out of his shirt. “Not that hard when you have a little help. Benefits of having hunters for friends.”

Your eyes went wide as you realized what you were looking at. It was an enchanted amulet, one strong enough to get through your warding. You could only hope that it wasn’t strong enough to dampen your powers.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he smirked. “I know what you are. Makes me a wonder what else you haven’t been telling me.”

“Alex, get out! I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.”

“You little bitch!” he spat back. “You think you can just break up me? You think you can just walk away?

“I can and I did. We’re done, Alex, it’s over. You don’t get to hurt me anymore. It’s not my fault that your fragile, insecure male ego can’t take a fucking hint.”

“Bitch, I’ll fucking hurt you whenever I fucking want to! And I don’t see your little biker friends here to protect you.…”

Then he charged, and suddenly you were on the ground with his hands around your throat.

“Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live!”

You could feel the murderous intent radiating off him, and put your hands on his chest, trying to push him off you, but then you felt the release of kinetic energy through your palms, and Alex was flying across the room. He hit the wall, and you prayed to whatever goddess was listening that the sickening crack you heard was just the drywall breaking behind him. But then his eyes rolled back in his head, and his head lolled to one side, at what could only be described as an “unhealthy looking” angle. His lower body twitched a few times before going limp. He hung there for a moment, suspended in the air, pinned to the wall by your invisible force. Still shaking in terror, you finally lowered your hands, and Alex’s lifeless body fell to the ground with a thud.

*********************

“No!” you cried out, sitting bolt upright on your couch. You were covered in a cold sweat and your whole body was shaking. Your lungs gasped for air and your eyes darted around the room, searching for Alex, but he wasn’t there. You weren’t even in your old house anymore. You held your hand in your hands and took deep breaths. You were in your apartment, in Santo Padre, Alex was dead, and you were safe. The Saturday afternoon sun streamed in through the window, and the TV was still on, a marathon of Guy’s Grocery Games playing at a low volume.

“I must have fallen asleep,” you said softly to yourself, “it was only a nightmare.”

You grabbed your phone off the coffee table and checked the time. It was only 3:30, plenty of time to shower and freshen up before Bishop would pick you up at 6. You stood, and after checking your locks and wards, made your way to the bathroom.

***********************

Despite your best efforts to push them down, the memories of what happened next came flooding back as you stood under the warm shower spray. You had been in shock, understandably so, but you were now exposed as a witch, and had to protect yourself. The logical side of your brain kicked in and you got to work. After verifying that Alex was dead, you had used your telekinetic abilities to rip the amulet off his neck. A quick examination verified that it had only been enchanted enough to allow Alex to breach your magical wards without getting zapped, but not enough to block your own powers. The enchantment was also crude and amateurish, probably done in haste by someone with limited knowledge of witchcraft. He had mentioned having hunters for friends, and you cursed yourself for not sensing that sooner. He hadn’t been one himself. You would have read that in his aura the moment you met him, but you also hadn’t sensed his dark side. The mentally and emotionally abusive and manipulative side, the one that turned violent during an argument when you had tried to call him out on his bullshit and break up with him the first time. You had ended up in the hospital, and when you confronted him the second time, you had friends with you to back you up. And after destroying the amulet, those were the friends you called on for help with your predicament.

The Blood Moon Motorcycle Club was a found family werewolf pack, led by Jack Reynard, a fearsome and intimidating Alpha. But Jack was fiercely protective of his friends and allies and didn’t hesitate to show up with four of his most trusted lieutenants when you called and tearfully explained your situation. They got to work cleaning up the scene and going through Alex’s phone and wallet. They found a business card for an elite and dangerous organization of hunters, and the contact’s name and number on the card matched up with one of the contacts in Alex’s phone. Jack told you to start packing your bags and to make sure that you included any magical artifacts that you had. You would spend the night at their clubhouse under round-the-clock security, and in the morning, they would get you out of town. Anything that couldn’t be packed that night would be shipped to you once you were settled elsewhere. They would dispose of the body; it wasn’t the first time they’d had to do so.

Jack had called Bishop Losa, president of the Mayans Motorcycle Club in Santo Padre, California. Jack and Bishop had served together in the Marines in their younger days, and the Mayans and the Blood Moons were allies as a result of that friendship. The Mayans were another found family werewolf pack and protected Santo Padre alongside the Galindo Pack. The town was a safe haven for all supernatural beings and the humans who lived there were none the wiser.

And now you had been here for six months. You worked in a bookshop owned by another a witch, Matilda, and lived in the apartment above it. In addition to the books, you also sold your homemade herbal teas and did Tarot card readings in the shop. 2-3 times a week you would bake cookies and muffins and sell those in the shop. Your teas were so popular that you now did tea making demonstrations on Saturday mornings. You were thriving but were still plagued by nightmares and PTSD and attended therapy once a week to help you work through your struggles.

And then there was Bishop. At first, the Mayan president and Alpha had been your friend and protector. You had been too traumatized to even think about pursuing a relationship, and so you both denied the unquestionable and inexplicable attraction. The more you got to know each other, the more you were drawn to each other. Two months ago, he finally made a move while the two of you had been outside getting some air at a party at the Mayans clubhouse, asking if he could kiss you. You’d been a couple ever since.

*********************

You had just finished lacing up your boots when you heard the sound of a familiar motorcycle pull up to your building. You ran to the window and looked down to the street. You saw Bishop getting off his bike and removing his helmet. You exited your apartment and ran down the stairs, meeting him at the entrance at the side of the building. You threw your arms around his neck and kissed his lips. His arms encircled your waist and pulled you close.

“Hola Querida, you look beautiful.”

“Thanks, you’re not too bad, yourself, handsome.”

That got a chuckle from the Alpha. He removed one of his arms from around your back, revealing the bouquet of roses in his hand. “These are for you.”

“Bish, they’re gorgeous, thank you. You shouldn’t have.”

“And pass up the opportunity to surprise you? Not a chance.”

“Come on up. I’ll put these in water, grab a few things, then I’ll be ready to go.”

Bishop nodded and held onto your hand as he followed you up the stairs.

************************

You held onto Bishop as the two of you went speeding down the back roads, away from Santo Padre. You loved dates like this: just you and Bishop on the bike, heading somewhere unknown, away from all the stress and bullshit of the day-to-day. His torso felt warm, sturdy, and safe. You could feel the vibrations from bike rattling through your body as you watched the scenery fly by. You’d been on the road for at least half an hour now.

“Almost there, Querida,” Bishop called back. “You’re gonna love this spot, I promise.”

After a few more minutes he pulled off the road and the motorcycle slowed to a stop. Bishop turned off the engine and stored the keys in his pocket. You both got off and removed your helmets. You looked around at the small, wooded area and smiled, breathing in the fresh air.

“This is nice, babe.”

“Oh, this isn’t the spot, “he told you, unlatching the soft fleece blanket and cooler from the back of his bike. He handed you the blanket. He took the cooler in one hand and grabbed your free hand with his other, interlacing his fingers with yours. “It’s this way.”

You walked for a few minutes down a short path before finally arriving at a grassy clearing. The view was breathtaking. You could see everything from your elevated perched; Santo Padre, the valley, green leafy trees swaying in the breeze, fields of wildflowers. A sense of calm settled over you that you hadn’t felt in months. You didn’t jump when Bishop came up behind you and slid his arms around your mid-section, instead relaxing into his touch and leaning against his sturdy frame. Bishop softly kissed your shoulder.

“You okay, baby?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “this is perfect, this place in perfect. The energy here is so peaceful, and so alive. I love it.”

“I’m glad. I was thinking we could eat dinner, watch the sunset? And wait until the stars come out…You can show me all the constellations?”

You turned and slid your arms around his neck, resting your forehead against his.

“You would have thought that you were such a romantic?”

“Just don’t tell anyone, okay? Gotta maintain my tough guy image, you know?”

“Mmm…your secret is safe with me.” You pecked his lips once, twice, three times, each kiss lasting a bit longer than the rest. When you finally pulled your head away you noticed that the blanket was laid out on the ground with cooler sitting on top.

“Come on,” said Bishop, directing you over to it. You both sat down, and Bishop opened the cooler and started setting out its contents: sandwiches from the local deli, fresh strawberries from the farmer’s market, giant cupcakes from the gourmet bakery, a bottle of beer for each of you, and bottled water. He popped the caps off the beer bottles and handed you one. “Cheers.”

The two of you sat and ate, completely at ease with each other, and the conversation flowed easily. Bishop told you about the day’s antics down at the scrapyard, and you told him about the business plan you and Matilda were working on to expand the bookshop into the empty café next door.

“The theory is, that having a space to sell food and drinks will drum up more business. I can sell my tea and baked goods and do my demonstrations there. We would obviously need to hire some extra people to help, but I think we can make it work. We can’t tear down the wall between the buildings and expand without the proper permits.”

“I’m sure the town will approve whatever permits you need. They’re not going to say to ‘no’ to something that will bring more business into Santo Padre.”

“Wow, you weren’t kidding about the sunsets,” you said, gazing at the red, orange, and purple hues of the evening sky. “How did you find this place?”

Bishop laid down on the blanket and you stretched out next him, placing your head on his chest.

“Me and the guys had just come back from a run,” he began, “Things didn’t go so well, and I was pissed, needed to blow off some steam so I just rode around for a while. Next thing I knew, I was here. I shifted, ran around for a while until my head was clear. I come back whenever I need to get away from everything.”

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “Thank you for bringing me here. I needed this.”

Bishop caressed your cheek with his fingers. “You’re welcome, Querida. I’ll bring you up here whenever you want.”

“Bish, can I ask you a personal question?”

“Of course, Querida, you can ask me anything,” he replied with a chuckle.

“Can I see you in your wolf form sometime? There’s no pressure, only if you want to…”

Bishop mulled the question over in his head. You had caught him off guard with the query. None of the women he’d ever been with had asked to see his wolf form, not even his ex-wife. These days, he only shifted when it was absolutely necessary. There were advantages to being an older and more experienced wolf. He could shift at will and didn’t have to worry about losing control. But what if you didn’t like what you saw? What if he scared you away? He’d never forgive himself if that happened. Your soft, sweet voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Bish, I’m sorry, forget I said anything- “

“No, it’s okay,” he kissed your forehead, “I just wasn’t expecting that question. I’ll do it if you want me to, but just be prepared, okay? I promise I won’t hurt you, but it might not be what you’re expecting.”

“I trust you completely, and I promise, I won’t be scared.” You looked at his aura and saw the hesitancy there. He was scared. “You’re not going to lose me.”

He cupped your face with his hand and his lips found purchase with yours. He had a way of kissing you that made your mind go blank and get lost in the moment, and you loved every minute of it. You kissed him back with equal fervor, hoping that somehow you were able to convey the trust and faith you had in him. The smile on his face when you broke away seemed to indicate that you’d been successful.

Bishop rose and walked a few feet away.

“What are you doing?” you asked, confused by his actions.

“Shifting is a lot easier without clothes on,” he replied with a wink, beginning to undress.

“I’ll close my eyes and give you some privacy then,” you giggled, shutting your eyes, but occasionally cracking one open to steal glimpses of his increasingly naked form; and damn if you didn’t like what you saw!

Bishop finished disrobing and crouched down on the soft grass. He breathed deeply and cleared his mind, focusing his intention. He felt his muscle start to ripple and his joints and bones shift. It didn’t hurt at his age; it was just slightly uncomfortable. All his senses sharpened. Body hair became fur, his hands and feet morphed into oversize paws with razor sharp claws. Even his teeth changed shaped, becoming longer and more pointed. A few moments later, he stretched and shook out his fur. He looked over towards you, still sitting there with your eyes closed, and cautiously padded toward you.

************************

You could hear the footfalls of his paws, and then felt his large wet nose nudging your arm. You opened your eyes and saw a massive wolf standing before you. His fur was brown and black, with specks of gray in various places. His legs were strong, and his paws appeared large enough to take out a person with one blow. But his eyes, his eyes were gentle, and you would know them anywhere.

“Oh, Bishop, you’re beautiful!”

He sat and cocked his head to one side, appearing confused.

“Yes, you heard me correctly. May I?” You held out your arms to him. Bishop bowed his head and leaned forward, allowing you to embrace him and bury your face in his fur. “Your fur is so soft!”

He put his head on your shoulder and let out a contented groan when your fingers began to massage the spot right between his ears. You giggled at that. “I take it you like that, huh?” Bishop lifted his head and licked your face in response, making you laugh even harder. You massaged his head for a little while longer before resting your forehead against his. “Thank you for letting me see you like this. I love you, Bishop.”

There was suddenly a very naked, human man in your arms. Bishop’s hands cupped your face, his eyes scanning it for any indication that he might have misheard you.

“Bish- “

“Say that again, Querida.”

“I said, I love you, Obispo Losa.”

Bishop pulled you into his lap and pressed his lips to yours, kissing you with more intensity and tenderness than he ever had before. Any doubts that you may have had about him not feeling the same quickly melted away. It went on for what felt like forever before the two of you had to pull away and come up for air.

“I love you, too, mi reina.”

You held onto one another like that for while before Bishop got dressed and rejoined you on the blanket. You spent the rest of the evening wrapped in each other’s arms and gazing at the night sky. And when a shooting star passed overhead, you made a wish that you could stay this way forever. No more looking over your shoulder, no more nightmares; just you and Bishop, ready to take on whatever the future might hold.

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