#Inappropriate physical contact

[girl-monkey-odalys]

Part 3 of my fic!

So as a heads up, the summary and tags are going to sound questionable, but I promise this fic is SFW. The tags and summary are accurate but are jokes. This is just a silly story like my other fics.

***

Summary:

Odalys finally gets an intimate moment with Klaus, but it is not exactly what she had in mind.

***

Teaser:

Odalys laughed quietly as she took out her phone to tell her friends of the ironic fact that she was looking directly at Klaus’ room. She noticed Breck’s earlier text, which she now read.

Breck’s text said: I’m holding you personally responsible for that rubber band ball, Odalys.

Odalys texted back: It’s your stupid rubber band ball, Breck. You can get it back yourself.

Breck: And how am I supposed to do that? Just walk into Kickenklober’s room and take it right out of his pants?

Odalys: Breck, that’s a brilliant idea.

Breck: What?

***

[altschmerzes]

ted lasso fandom stop posting things labeled as gen fic with both & and / tags listed for the same relationship leaving me wondering if i want to open the box of schrodinger’s gen fic and get shipping jumpscared today or not challenge

[saytrrose]

what were the diagnosis? Sorry I don’t mean for this to be rude or nosy just like I know you have autism and adhd !

I’m diagnosed with Autism, ADHD, PTSD, Clinical Depression, and Generalized Anxiety (GAD)

I got all this taken care of and diagnosed during my 4 years of highschool, but recently now that I’m in college I had to send in my old ARD/IEP forms from highschool to college so that I can get new accommodations and!!

I also got OCD and SPCD. I’m sure people know about OCD, but SPCD is Social Pragmatic Communication Disorder. It’s like a Speech Impairment. I can evaluate on anything if you’d like! Don’t be afraid to ask I know you mean well lol

[writteninscarlet]

Does Wanda like physical touches? If so, from who?

Wanda doesn’t have any strong dislike of physical touch, though she tends to keep some distance or barrier out of habit.

Out of necessity she’s been carried before or flown, she’s helped others walk when injured or let people lean on her. When there’s a reason, there’s no an issue. She doesn’t flinch away when it has to be done.

But we’ll stick to the softer touches for a moment - the hugs and hand shakes and ‘nice’ moments!

And basically, overall she enjoys physical contact. She likes warm hugs and cuddles and resting her head on someone’s shoulder. But she’s a bit wary about it, and naturally it’s only with people she likes and trusts. Really likes and trusts. Not everyone fall into that category, and the more she likes someone the more she’ll initiate the contact or have lingering contact. The majority of those people are the Avengers, in fairness. She probably doesn’t need more than two hands to count how many fall into this category - so if she’s hugged you or had lingering physical contact, lucky you. You’re stuck with her now.

I’ll give some rambling additions (but the above really answers the question):

Wanda enjoys hugs from those she likes, for example. She’ll initiate or accept them, in the right time. She can be wary, there have been times when people have flinched from her - for various reasons, from being Romani, a mutant, a witch, etc. People have flinched from her touch and at times she’s on guard. The first few times she initiates physical contact, until it becomes natural between Wanda and someone else, is fairly significant because of this. There is a level of trust there. If it’s a hug there’s a degree of affection, too.

On the other hand, she herself can have reservations about some people and not want to be touched. If you’ve made comments about her that don’t sit right, she’ll be a bit more on edge and keep distance. If she doesn’t know someone well, a hand shake is even quite big. It can take some time to get to the stage of hand holding, and naturally even longer for hugging, etc. It’s not to be expected straight away. There are some people she may consider friends but there’s not quite that level of trust or affection to go beyond an occasional handshake. There’s only really a short list of people that she’ll initiate contact with, and a slightly longer list she’ll accept it from.

Sometimes her reluctance for physical contact is nothing to do with you - if she’s tired, angry, on edge, etc, or feels something isn’t right she’ll keep her distance. Wanda has good control of mutant abilities and witchy powers now, but she unconsciously will keep people at a distance when her emotions rise out of fear she’ll do harm.

A PSA: A hug with a little spin or being picked up? She will melt. Loves it. Is a weakness. (but in saying that, picking her up when not at that stage or she doesn’t quite like you would result in a hex. its a risky move)

She loves playing with hair or having her hair played with. That’s a softer gesture she’s fond of. But to get to that stage is even beyond her letting you pick her up. That’s definite ‘top friend’ level or ‘falling for you’ level. She loves her red hair. Her mother used to play with it and braid it when she was very little. It’s fond, affectionate memories. It means a lot and is a trusting, warm gesture on her part if she plays with or touches your hair. Touching her hair is again a big risk. If she likes you, she’ll like you even more, if not… well, it could go wrong.

Those are maybe the more meaningful gestures. But there’s smaller things too - playful nudges when she’s joking, her hand on your arm, pokes… it can take time for her to get comfortable (which is probably the same for most people?) but she has nothing against physical contact when she comes to trust you.

(kisses etc are a whole other story, I guess. But she’s not shy if she likes you.)

[ghost-roads]

i feel like, as important as it is to teach kids to have boundaries when it comes to their bodies (knowing they can say no to hugs and kisses and people touching their hair etc), it's also important not to overdo it in a way that teaches them that any instance of physical touch is inappropriate because it's implicitly sexual. that's a little fucked up. for example, i saw a video of a teacher on tiktok saying that one of the little girls in her classroom had a shirt with sequins on it that change colours when you rub them up and down. and a couple of little boys were having fun rubbing the sequins. and the teacher pulled the little girl aside and told her she could say no to the boys touching her shirt if she felt uncomfortable. to which the girl replied "no it's okay, i don't mind!". and the teacher then made a whole video about how it's so sad that this little girl had already internalised that it was okay for boys to touch her "in that way".

now what way are we talking about exactly here? having fun with her fun shirt, with her consent (she explicitly said she didn't mind)?

a little boy playing with the fun colour changing sequins on a little girl's shirt is not a sexually invasive act. it's literally just kids having fun. and from experience as a teacher myself, there is no greater pride for a kid than bringing something fun to school (like colour changing sequins) and having everyone's attention for a moment because they're admiring the fun thing you brought to school.

now i completely agree that it's super super important to teach kids boundaries, to teach them to say no, etc. but it's just as important not to sexualise any and all physical contact. sometimes a kid is just rubbing another kid's belly because it has sequins on it, and that's all there is to it. it's not inappropriate, it's not invasive (again, the kid explicitly said she was okay with it when asked). it's just kids playing together. bodies aren't inherently sexual. physical touch isn't inherently sexual. and ESPECIALLY not for kids.

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

There's a viral video circulating from the Fort Worth Zoo, of two keepers who ended up in a habitat at the same time as a silverback gorilla. Spoiler for good news: neither the humans nor the gorilla got hurt. It's a bad situation that ended extremely well, and that's why I want to talk about it.

The audio for this video is mostly someone praying loudly, so if you need to turn the audio off to watch it, you won't miss anything relevant. If you don't want to watch it, here's the summary: it starts with a keeper running around the corner into the main exhibit, pursued by a large male gorilla. She is quickly able to get into a doorway at the back of the exhibit, but does not completely close the door because the gorilla is standing across from her, watching. He eventually moves off to the right hand side of the exhibit, where we can see a keeper is trapped in the corner at the front. She was trying to move towards the exit as he moved to the right, and she stops, standing very still behind a tree, while he stays along the far right wall. They stay like that for a minute, and then the gorilla runs to the front right corner, and the keeper is able to run to the door in the back of the exhibit and get to safety.

Let's start with basic information. Even though it's just going viral now, this video is from October of 2023. It was taken not by a guest, but by the zoo security officer responding to the situation. Hmmm, seems like he maybe should have been doing something else during that situation, instead of than taking a phone video. It's going viral now because the guy (who is no longer employed at the zoo) decided to post it on TikTok for his five minutes of fame. This guy immediately started giving all sorts of media interviews, answering questions like "why no tranquilizers" inappropriately, making memes out of his own video, generally distasteful shit.

Zoo spokesperson Avery Elander gave a public statement that "thankfully, there was no physical contact between keepers and gorilla, and all staff and animals are safe." A comment from the zoo has also indicated that the incident was due to keeper error. (As opposed to, for instance, something in the fencing breaking.) According to the guy who posted the video, a lock was left unsecured and the gorilla was able to open the door to the habitat. I don't know if I buy it, and again, this just... is probably why he doesn't have a job anymore. By sharing that detail - real or not - he places a ton of public scrutiny and blame on that keeper team. (If that's what happened, I can promise you it will have been dealt with internally.) He also was nice enough to say he wouldn't name the women in the video... but verified they're still staffers at the zoo... which means they're eminently identifiable! Excuse me while I ragequit for a second.

So there's two reasons I wanted to talk about this. The first is to make sure it is well known that this guy is purposefully and intentionally exploiting the worst day of someone's life for media attention. Their lives were in danger, and he's using it for fame. His name is in the media articles - I'm not going to share it because he doesn't deserve that attention. The second reason, though, is because this video is a masterclass on how to survive if you end up sharing space with a gorilla. Every zoo person I've spoken to or seen comment on the video is so, so impressed with how the keepers handled themselves.

The gorilla in this video is 34-year-old Elmo. All apes in AZA zoos are managed in protected contact, so keepers are supposed to be separated from them by a barrier at all times. The zookeepers were in the habitat putting out a mid-day meal when he got out. Watching the video, you can see he's not actively being aggressive towards them - he's not making threat displays or trying to approach them. Mostly, Elmo seems like he doesn't know what is going on and he's kinda freaked out about it. (This is confirmed in the zoo's press statement, too). The staff stayed calm, and importantly, watched and waited to see how he'd move and act.

The zoo did say one thing, though, that's a bit misleading. In one article, their press person I quote as saying “In general, gorillas are considered the “gentle giants” of the great ape species.” Just because this may be true in comparison to other great ape species doesn't meant gorilla aren't still incredibly dangerous. This type of messaging always worries me, because I think it leads people to misunderstand the risks of being close to megafauna. Gorilla are extremely strong animals, and their social norms/behaviors are very different from that of humans. That's why it's such a big deal any time people end up in gorilla habitats, and why sometimes in those circumstances lethal measures have to be taken to protect human life.

These keepers are incredibly lucky to be unharmed. These women stayed safe specifically because they're trained professionals who knew how to act around gorilla, they knew this particular animal well, and they'd learned the escapes from the exhibit just in case this ever happened. We should applaud them for their cool heads and quick thinking.

As for the guy who posted the video? As a colleague put it, may he always step on a Lego.

[twunkzilla]

Idk if I have low key autism or I just have like ethnic family evil eye syndrome because i have like freakishly blue eyes and dark hair and thick eyebrows I can only make eye contact if I'm being confrontational

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining getting so used to physical contact from the 141 that you don't realize it's inappropriate until it's too late.

At first you shied away from them all. You gave them a good breadth of space because, well, it would be inappropriate. But eventually you acquiesced to the noogies and the funny little pats Price loves to give.

Soon enough you found yourself being aggressively head-locked by Soap and tossed around by Gaz. It's just boys being boys, it's friendly and fun. The deeper your bond the less you seem to care about their hands on you.

It isn't until one night when you're playing a little handheld game in the rec room do you think maybe everyone's gotten a lil' too comfortable. You're curled up between Soap and Ghost in one of their hoodies and some non-reg shorts. Both of their hands are splayed out on your inner thighs, one tapping, the other rubbing. Gaz comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your neck to get a good look over your shoulder.

"Catching 'em all, Love?"

[fangswbenefits]

Fever

Summary: You're running a fever and Astarion offers to cool you down… only to make things a whole lot worse.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Dry humping. Vampire bite and blood sucking. Precum and cum. Skin to skin contact with the purpose of thermoregulation that ends up getting out of hand. Inappropriate use of tadpole. Banter.

Word count: 3k

A mind-numbing chilling shiver tore throughout your entire body, causing your muscles to contract involuntarily in a desperate attempt to keep yourself warm.

The bonfire crackled vigorously, emanating a welcome wave of heat, as you embraced the blanket around you, keeping both knees tightly close to your chest.

"You can't possibly be cold."

Astarion.

Great.

You lowered your quivering chin to rest on your forearm, definitely not in the mood - or mental capacity - to voice out a proper reply.

"It's blazing hot tonight," he continued, entering your narrowed field of vision. "Hello? I'm talking to you."

Nodding, you hugged yourself tighter.

He scoffed. "What is the matter with you? Oh, do not tell me you're turning into a mindflayer… what a nuisance."

Astarion and his eternal aptitude for inconvenient remarks.

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what was to come. "I think I'm running a fever."

Astarion lowered himself to eye-level with you, his body close enough for you to make out the swirling flames of the bonfire dancing in his crimson eyes.

"So what? Drink a healing potion."

You inwardly cussed, pressing your forehead firmly against your arm with an exasperated sigh, effectively hiding from his burning gaze.

Clearly, your silence paired with the deflecting physical reaction was enough for him to draw a conclusion.

"You don't have any."

Silence.

"What have you done with our potions?" His voice immediately shifted into an accusatory hiss.

Another shiver. 

This time, you mustered the strength to look him in the eye. "Some passers-by were injured by thieves and asked for help… so… I…" your voice faltered as you struggled to keep your thoughts straight.

He was already pinching the bridge of his nose, his face twisting into a deep scowl. "So you gave them all of our potions?!"

You shrugged with a faint smile and Astarion went ballistic.

"Why must you carry this deathwish around? And why must you drag me along with you?" He growled dramatically. "Why didn’t you just ignore them? Or – I don't know – not give them anything?"

You matched his frown. "They were severely injured. They would have perished from their wounds."

He threw both arms up in exasperation as he raised to his feet at once.

"Well, better them than me – or you, for that matter," he added, both hands on his hips. "You're far too precious to be killed, darling."

How could you forget?

And he was right… to an extent.

You chose silence.

It was a very effective way to handle Astarion whenever he went on a rambling spree.

"When is Shadowheart returning with Gale?"

"Soon. I hope."

He groaned in response. "You're actually fortunate I'm so resourceful."

Your head turned to him and you watched as he strolled away, disappearing into his tent. 

A jab of realisation hit you all of a sudden, as you vaguely recalled rummaging through his belongings earlier on when he left to hunt an animal to feed on.

Fuck.

You winced.

"Where are my healing potions?"

Your eyes dropped close and your teeth clattered.

Angry footsteps drew near at lightning speed. "You stole from me?!"

You shrugged. "You steal from everyone."

He then crouched down again, eyes narrowing dangerously. "I steal for us –  the collective good!"

You did scoff this time. "Then why were you hiding them away?"

"Call it safekeeping. Although I was careless enough to teach you lockpicking, wasn't I?”

A firm hand came to grip your forearm, but you flinched away. “It's fine. I'll be fine.”

He glared at you in silence as if your reply had snapped him out of his tantrum.

There was no point in arguing with him, as he was known to have low tolerance for unexpected predicaments.

But even through your feverish haze, you could see he was no longer pursuing an argument.

After all, his bond to you was built on meeting halfway, even when disagreements occurred.

“On your feet, darling,” he said, extending his hand to you as rose to his full height.

You grabbed it and pushed yourself upwars, nearly losing your footing. Luckily, Astarion was agile enough for both of you, and he quickly steadied you with both hands firmly gripping your shoulders.

“There you go,” he said almost lovingly. “Let's take care of that.”

You nodded tiredly as he wrapped an arm around you, guiding you into his tent.

“Sorry for the potions.”

He chuckled lightly. “I guess it can't be helped with that bleeding heart of yours.”

You didn’t even try refuting his remark. He was absolutely right. But still, you didn't regret having helped those people. 

And now you were stuck in this predicament until Shadowheart returned.

It could be worse… at least you weren't alone.

The shivers were only getting more intense and you watched as Astarion suddenly pulled his shirt off in one swift move.

Instantly, your jaw dropped. “What – Astarion?”

He eyed you with sheet amusement. “Darling, I swear this is not what it looks like.”

Frankly, you weren't even sure if this wasn't just your mind playing tricks on you.

Why would he even remove his shirt in the first place?

“Considering our current situation, this is the best course of action. Skin-to-skin. I'm cold enough to drop your temperature.”

Your eyes widened.

Oh?

He tossed the shirt to the side and moved to stand closer to you. “Let me help you out of your clothes.”

Under different circumstances, this would have been a welcome exchange, but this particular scenario didn't make room for any of those thoughts.

So, you merely stood still as he tugged at your own shirt, undoing each button, hands traveling down your torso.

A wave of coldness took over as your skin met the uncomfortable night breeze. 

“It's too cold… Astarion…” you said in between clattering teeth.

He shoved the fabric off your shoulders and down your arms, eyes always holding yours. 

You felt your nipples harden, but none of that seemed to matter. He had seen you naked many times and you felt comfortable around him.

But you also felt ill. 

And no amount of loving stares could ease the way your body spasmed uncontrollably near his. 

“You're burning up,” he said, as he pressed the back of his cold hand to your forehead.

His touch brought immediate relief and you leaned into it, earning a soft caress as his hand trailed down.

As if disconnected from your mind, your body moved on its own accord, closing the gap that separated you from Astarion, and you gasped as his chest came into contact with yours.

The difference in temperature was so stark, that even Astarion flinched momentarily before his arms closed around you.

A gentle tug inside your head made you wince.

The tadpole.

It was trying to connect with his.

It often happened in moments of intimacy when both of you allowed that door to open.

But now was not the time or moment, and you forced yourself to repress it.

Your chin met his shoulder and you eased into him until you could feel the shivers begin to subside.

You weren't sure how long it took for your body's temperature to drop, but what you did know was that you could tear yourself away from him.

Astarion's cool skin came as the relief you were seeking, and you allowed yourself to let out a shaky breath as you clung onto him.

“I've got you.”

His voice was low and tender and your racing heart skipped a bit.

Even standing, you felt as though you could drift off into a slumber at any moment.

More time passed.

More silence.

More comfort.

And the worm squirmed again.

You promptly ignored it.

Astarion shifted against you and you sighed blissfully, resting your cheek on his shoulder, eyelids dropping.

Another tug and you frowned.

What was happening?

The tadpole rattled almost violently and you allowed yourself to let go.

As soon as you felt it reach Astarion's, you gasped and your eyes flew open.

You could faintly feel pulsating waves of pleasure through the tadpole.

His mind laced with yours and that was when you felt a growing pressure in your lower half.

Not now. Not now. Gods.

His voice echoed inside your head in a never-ending plea.

He sounded desperate.

And he felt… hard.

Positively aroused.

Think of Withers. Think of Volo and his abysmal outfits.

That wasn’t exactly the mental images you would have preferred in this moment, but it was quite clear that he sought a distraction.

You shuddered into him and he let out a low groan in response.

Was he aware that you could hear his thoughts? Did he even care?

Your tadpole vibrated evenly and his yearn for friction became yours.

Astarion… what are you doing?

He jolted under your touch, but didn't utter a single word out loud.

Instead, he focused on caressing your naked back with gentle fingers.

You're inside my head when I crave to be inside you.

His bluntness was enough to cause your body to react.

The fever had been broken, but the heat refused to leave.

Maybe we should pull away.

He let out a chuckle that rumbled in his chest.

You're still quite warm, darling.

Your tadpole held on to his viciously, and it was quite evident that the connection wasn't going to be easily severed.

Not when you could now feel how hard his cock was for you.

Inside your mind.

It was as if you were experiencing everything happening in his body.

The gentle throbbing in his lower half was now your own, too.

You can feel it, can't you?

He was almost purring through his tadpole and you tried to find words, but his hard cock was too distracting.

You had often wondered how an erection would feel like for a man.

Now you had your answer.

And it felt almost… urgent.

I never felt this before…

His cock twitched and you felt all of it.

I suppose we never allowed it ourselves, darling.

Your hands locked behind his back, but you struggled to keep your fingers from slipping as sweat gathered along your skin.

As expected, the stimulus was enough to stir your clit, earning another chuckle from him.

Oh, I can feel it swelling up…

You clenched.

It didn't take long for wetness to pool in your underwear.

The two of you were still very much covered from the waist down.

It was almost painful how restricted his cock was against the fabric of his trousers.

Now you know how it feels when you get me hard.

Instinctively, you began to grind against him, seeking that delicious friction that only he could provide.

Or maybe we should save this for a more suitable moment.

His suggestion caused you to bite your lip to muffle a groan of disapproval.

We can just stay like this… for a while.

He hardened even more and you were beginning to feel conflicted on what to focus on: his cock or your clit.

You can focus on both, sweetheart. 

You clenched again.

His hands dropped to your waist and he pulled your hips harder against his.

Gods… this hurts… 

It truly hurt to feel his cock restrained like that, leaking precum as he kept a steady pace.

You could feel how soaked he was getting.

Does your clit always feel this good grinding against me?

Your arms looped around his neck for support, because you didn't think you had it in you to withstand the unexpected duplication of pleasure. 

How are you getting harder?

This time, he groaned in response, angling his hips so you could also physically feel how hard his cock was.

Another clench was all it took for him to move his lips to your neck, fangs grazing your skin.

Would you clench harder if I bit you?

You shuddered, bucking your hips as if they were Astarion's. Now you knew how it felt whenever he began to grind against you.

Astarion… you get harder when you bite me, don't you?

He growled before his lips latched on to you, suckling gently.

Do you want to feel my cock getting harder from your blood?

Maybe you should postpone this endeavour. Even if the fever was no longer an issue, maybe it was better to wait out whatever had caused it.

But he was also waiting on you, his fangs eager to break skin and sink into you.

Logic was replaced with arousal and you nodded.

Please…

Astarion didn't need to be told twice, and you let out a pained yelp, as he tore through the barrier and found his target.

With the first gulp of his blood, you felt your mouth drop open, and not because of pain or discomfort.

No.

You could feel your blood coursing through his body, rapidly shooting downwards and filling his cock with each passing second.

The pleasure was nigh unbearable and you kept on grinding against him, desperate for the friction.

He lifted one of your legs to grant him better access and as soon as he found a sweet spot, he began thrusting as if there were no clothes in the way.

You kept clenching around nothing, squeezing out more of your wetness whilst being able to feel just how drenched he was for you.

With each roll of his hips, you felt more and more precum leaking.

The upside to having this tadpole connection was that you got to hear his voice even when his mouth was busy.

Your walls began to squeeze, yearning for his cock.

Darling, you feel so tight.

His cock was gradually getting warmer from your blood and his balls were getting tighter.

He was close.

He was inside your head and he was dangerously close.

I can feel your clit. You're close, too.

You expected to feel lightheaded from him feeding on you, but it was as if his vigour was now yours.

Your body refused to wither as you remained linked to his.

Dampness was seeping through your crotch as he humped more eagerly than ever.

The temptation to just undo his trousers and let him sink inside you was 

I need to be inside you.

It wasn’t a request.

He was begging.

But your ears caught the distant sound of voices nearing the tent.

Astarion. Someone is coming….

He growled, pulling away from your neck and capturing your lips with his blood-stained ones.

You tasted metal on your tongue.

I'm close… 

And so were you.

It was probably a mixture of the thrill of getting caught and how delicious his thick cock felt from being pumped up with your blood.

It was overwhelming.

Your mind was not even focusing on your swollen clit.

You just wanted his cock to find release.

And it was a shared sentiment, because Astarion kept on praising how drenched you were for him and how much you were throbbing.

He could feel your clit the same way you could feel his cock.

It was as if the two of you had swapped places and were both desperate to reach the climatic release.

The voices were getting closer and your grip tightened around his neck, his tongue tracing your lower lip before he began suckling in it.

It was an effective way to muffle his moans.

Clench again… 

Your body obeyed his words and you clenched in frustration, wishing you could drive his cock inside you and empty his balls.

By this point, you were able to make out Shadowheart’s voice.

Quick…

He kept on grinding and you felt his balls tighten even more as he neared the edge of the precipice, his cock twitching and throbbing as he toppled over.

“Gods!” you almost yelled.

Astarion grunted in between gasps.

Shock and unfathomable pleasure entwined as you felt the first strings of cum shoot from his cock, pooling around it as it remained enclosed in his soaked underwear.

His pleasure was your own.

Literally.

Your mind blanked and your hips moved on their own as if you were the one thrusting his cock, mouth agape and heart almost leaping from your chest in sheer bewilderment.

You're almost there…

His words rang inside your head but he now knew better than yourself how close you were and you simply let go as his warm cum began seeping through his trousers.

So much cum… 

Another voice was heard nearby and it catapulted you into your own bodily climax.

And this time, Astarion groaned harder than before as he felt your rhythmic contractions flutter throughout your walls. 

“Gods… this–”

Astarion was stunned into silence, having to bite down on your shoulder to keep himself from being too loud as your orgasm tore across his own body.

You felt the contractions.

You felt your clit pulsating in unison with your heartbeat.

But your pleasure was his.

You pressed a hand on the back of his neck, cradling him as he rode out your climax.

Your tadpole squirmed tiredly and you figured you had overstayed your welcome with this sudden and intense connection.

Just as quickly as it had occurred, the link was severed at once and there was a sudden quiet in your head.

Astarion slumped slightly against you, dropping your leg and face buried in the crook of your neck.

“That was…”

Your uneven breathing held you back for a moment. “... amazing?”

He pulled away and your vision cleared with a few blinks only to see your blood smeared across his lips and chin.

“Unexpected, I reckon.”

From outside his tent, you heard someone clear their throat.

“Why am I not surprised that they're in their tent again?”

“Ah, Shadowheart. Young love tends to be lively and intense.” Gale tried to reason.

A pause.

“Well, they could try to be quieter about it, then.” 

You glanced down to find the front of his trousers, realising just how much of his cum had spilled from the waistband.

“Are you still feeling feverish?” he asked, capturing your chin in between his fingers to tilt your head up, so that your eyes could meet his.

You shook your head.

“Are you still upset about the potions?”

He rolled his eyes. “I am upset that it took us this long to take full advantage of these blasted worms.”

Masterlist

[nerinefy]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ A LIFE WITH HIM ; FT. some OVERBLOT BOYS .𖥔 ݁ ˖

★ synopsis: how will they be like as your partner?

★ details: you/yours | headcanon | too much fluff | 1,000+ words

✦ ┊RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

PHYSICAL AFFECTION (GIVING & RECEIVING)

★ not too big on PDA, so expect that the most skin-to-skin contact you two can have outside is the occasional hand-holding. he likes it when he's the one initiating the gesture whenever you two are out and about since he still can't help but have the need to be in control even after his overblot (like leading you to places and making sure ur still by his side).

★ he doesn't admit it but he loves when you link your arm with his and nuzzle your face into his shoulder (although he will still scold you if you do it) ESPECIALLY when he's in a mood and is almost about to off the heads of some rule-breakers OR maybe when you're giving too much attention to a rando because he may not admit it but he's greedy and wants your eyes on him only (but he's a gentleman and will never speak about it, only dismissing his inappropriate thoughts.)

★ in private though he's just a snuggly little cuddle bug, even more so if he's tired or stressed or most likely both. so many responsibilities are piled up on his plate just in his second year so the only thing that keeps his shit together is your warm and loving embrace. HE'S A SMALL SPOON. NO BACKSIES, okay maybe he's a big spoon if you're the one who needs a little more loving.

GIFT-GIVING

★ i mean from the name itself ROSEHEARTS, roses are his go-to (he's corny but we love him like that), but if you have a different favorite flower then he'll get those, and if you're allergic he'll try to make those handmade ones! although a little sloppy, pretty successful for his first try. overall he likes giving the traditional gifts like bouquets, stuffed animals, and chocolates :) but if he gets to know you more it might be more personal and intimate stuff that fits your tastes, and of course, should be of use to you too.

THE SIMPLE THINGS

★ whenever you're stuck on a study session late at night he likes inviting you to take a break and brew some tea for you. he'll even share some sweets that Trey gave him. although he won't leave you alone after he finds you like that, instead he pulls out some reviewers he has and helps you work on whatever you find difficult to understand.

WORD AFFIRMATIONS

★ "Our race is nowhere near finished, so please my rose, stay strong, I know you can and want to do so. I am always by your side okay?"

✦ ┊LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

PHYSICAL AFFECTION (GIVING & RECEIVING)

★ hugs, hugs, and MORE HUGS. just lots of hugs! doesn't matter if he's a big spoon or small spoon, he needs you by his side 24/7, 365. he just has to have his scent all over you u know, half-breed things. this man is just lazing around anywhere so might as well bring his favorite pillow with him. and no, he doesn't care if you have class and need to take a test worth half your grade, he needs you more! ★ of course, he doesn't have long-ass hair for nothing, go be his peasant and brush it, most preferably with your fingers if he's having a good hair day. your soft fingers massaging his scalp are quite literally going to take him to heaven, and he'll have no regrets tho so go pocket something if that happens. ★ he doesn't pick favorites when it comes to giving and receiving physical affection, he just wants his hands all over you and if the job is done then he's good.

GIFT-GIVING

★ honestly man, i don't know with him. he's raised right so of course he gives you stuff like flowers and so on. on the other hand tho he isn't the type to know what you like and will most likely just ask you what you want him to give you. maybe he'll just take you to go fetch them at the store itself if he isn't sure. but on special days like your birthday or your anniversary (assuming ya'll would last more than a week), he actually tries and it's pretty sweet and more elaborate.

THE SIMPLE THINGS

★ whenever he's forcibly on a call with his brother, which surprisingly is turning into a regular thing, if Farena asks about how he's doing, Leona likely ends up only yapping about you. i mean yeah he missed his last test and he spent his allowance for the month in a week but does Farena know about the time you were mumbling Leona's name in your sleep? he will deny it if he's called out for doing so. NO, HE DID NOT PERIOD. *hangs up*

WORD AFFIRMATIONS

★ "Whatever you're thinking of, don't. It's stupid. As much as I don't like admitting this, you're strong, and even more than most beastmen if you set your mind to your goals."

✦ ┊AZUL ASHENGROTTO

PHYSICAL AFFECTION (GIVING & RECEIVING)

★ man's busy all the time so it's hard to get your hands on him. even if he's not busy, he will sprint for his life just to get away from you. not that he dislikes your affection, the concept is just a little foreign to him. give him time to adjust, then you'll find out how soft his tentacles are! ★ when he's actually busy and working on stuff in his office (when the time comes and he's comfortable) he likes it when you flop yourself on his lap and nuzzle into his chest. he feels guilty that he can't give full focus to you since his schedule truly is packed but you inviting yourself into his office at late hours of the day just to snuggle comforts and assures him in some way. he'll definitely find more time for you, he's trying his best lol! ★ overall he isn't one to initiate the touching even if he's fully vulnerable for you. idk too ask him about it. he's just happy you like him enough that you cling unto him. but if you ask him he may favor hand-holding the most, it may be the least contact but feeling your hand on his is enough for him.

GIFT-GIVING

★ HE KNOWS EVERYTHING. i'm not even kidding, even when it's no special day he'd likely buy stuff just because it reminded him of you or when you coincidentally need it which is pretty cute but can be a little creepy.

THE SIMPLE THINGS

★ i saw a fic back then that said he gives you some coupons and by some i mean a TON in hopes that you visit the Lounge and that is absolutely true. though he forgets you two are together and he can ask you nicely to come over but who can say no to 30% off all menu items?

WORD AFFIRMATIONS

★ "My, how could I ever deny what that cute head of yours and those strong arms of yours can do! You are a valuable asset to me...what kind of asset? Well...it's up to you to decide."

✦ ┊JAMIL VIPER

PHYSICAL AFFECTION (GIVING & RECIEVING)

★ he's also busy, honestly might be one of the, or if not the busiest of all of these guys. when you two have time to be together tho, even if he's knocked out and drained, he'll never show it. but i can say that's only during the early stages of your relationship with him and depending on how you two met. he likes to present himself in his best state and he really can't do so with his schedule so eventually he just melts and the next thing you know he's hugging you from the back any chance he gets and you feel his heartbeat turn slower by the minute. ★ for those moments that he sees you out and about though he likes patting your cute lil head, no matter what your height is. though he is trying to be a little adventurous with you so he leans in to caress your hair gently and suddenly you're met with a quick smooch. (only when there's no one else in sight so yeah adventurous my ass) ★ like leona, he loves it when you play with his hair, and he does not like to admit it. just remember to keep it neat and use a brush while you're at it, plus a facial and maybe a massage because i know those muscles are TIGHT.

GIFT-GIVING

★ his gifts reek of HANDMADE. idk he has those vibes. handmade flowers, or some origami of cute animals, but he likes giving you handwritten letters the most. it can be hard to communicate his real feelings to you so writing is a way for him to freely and easily express those feelings.

THE SIMPLE THINGS

★ whenever he cooks for Kalim or just whenever he cooks, he suddenly has some leftovers that he decided he'd pack up for you. can't bring himself up to say that excuse so he just gives it to you and walks away.

WORD AFFIRMATIONS

★ "Whining is useless. Do the things you're good at, stop worrying about the things you can't. Oh, I'm sorry...did that come off too harsh?"

★ author's note: congratulate me for coming back. BASK IN MY GLORIOUS PRESCENCE. (i missed u guys too ig)

©nerinefy 2023-2024 all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate.

[beowlet]

HOUSEWARDENS WITH A S/O WHO LIKES TO BITE THEM

Headcannons

cw: nothing much other than fluff, Gn!Reader, usage of "You" instead of pronouns. NOT proofread.

part 1 part 2 part 3

R. Rosehearts

His love language is probably Quality Time and Acts of service but he definitely enjoys physical affection in private. However, he is definitely still a little shy. Just give the poor boy a little more time and he'll get used to it.

Probably has a hard time adjusting to physical contact at the start of the relationship. I'm skipping hand-holding stage because this guy can't even bring himself to touch you anywhere. Literally.

Let us jump to a few months into your relationship. Can finally hold your hand without a problem and he even sometimes hugs you! Isn't that cute-

Well, he has gotten used to hugs yes! But he didn't expect you to just bite his shoulder out of nowhere while hugging you?? What are you even doing?? THIS IS HIGHLY INAPPROPRIATE!!

*attempts to collar you immediately*

Wasn't expecting it at all?? Why would you even bite him?? Did he manage to annoy you somehow..?- He is sure he didn't squeeze you too tight or anything... Did he say something without realizing it??

Please tell this boy that's how you show affection right after otherwise he'll overthink it all week.

Probably doesn't understand anything at all confused about how biting someone could be a way of showing affection. But he doesn't mind if you do it in private.

Always flushes red whenever you do it, Riddle tomato kinnie<3

L. Kingscholar

Good for you can you guys go back to your nap now?

Probably doesn't care all that much. I think Leona would be a Physical Touch and words of affirmation kinda guy so he really doesn't mind your biting habit just don't bite too hard and wake him up.

First time you did it I don't even think you guys would be dating.

This man drags you into the botanical garden every single day at the exact same time in lunch break JUST to cuddle with you. Doesn't give a fuck if you're dating or not.

It would be a day where you just wanted to watch the lion beastman sleep instead of resting with him because you had too much energy. Your eyes scanning the gorgeous man sleep watching his chest rise and fall... until you notice his exposed neck.

oh no

This is the perfect momment. How can you resist to urge to bite him?? Just a gentle little nibble on his arm-

Chomp

Wakes up immediately and pushes you back in reflex he is staring at you like (•ー•)

Why?

He doesn't mind it but why bite him exactly?

He just sighs and goes back to sleep almost instantly. Probably too tired to deal with your bullshit

But to your suprise he won't push you away anymore when you try to do another small nibble on his arm

Don't expect him to not bite back to tease you though. Bite you where you ask? Don't worry about it.

A. Ashengrotto

His love language is DEFINETLY Gift giving and Quality time nobody can prove me wrong nor will anybody try to because they know I'm right ☆o☆

The first stages of your relationship I would imagine it to be a bit rocky because Azul would still have a hard time relaxing around you and would be uncomfortable with the idea of physical touch at first.

At FIRST.

Once he is comfortable this boy is all over you, hugging and cuddling and kissing and EVERYTHING. He is all. in.

First time you bit him it was probably you two cuddling. Out of nowhere you just casually bit into his shoulder.

My guy YELPS

He is staring at you in shock because why?? Just why?? He doesn't need another Floyd! Why are you biting him??

Is all pouty when you say you do it to show your love.

Out of 7 love languages you chose one THAT DOESN'T EVEN EXIST??? BITING? WHY???

Eventually gets used to it and (kinda) starts liking it.

The sensations when you bite his neck while cuddling starts to feel comforting. It doesn't even feel sexual.

He only lets you bite him in private. Nothing on this planet could never and I mean NEVER EVER make this boy let you bite him in public. Arm, hand OR LITERALLY ANYWHERE. No. If you do you're getting the silent treatment.

K. Al-asim

Kalim's love language is definetly Gift giving and Physical touch. He can't help but want to shower you with gifts and cling to you whenever it's possible.

Imagining he's already very friendly I don't think he would even try to tone down the affection at the beginning of your relationship. Hugs, kisses (not on the lips he wants to save that for a special time), hand holding. He doesn't think much of it!

Doesn't mind PDA, would hug and kiss you anywhere with anyone present.

I imagine this would happen early on your relationship too, maybe when you two are studying together.

I imagine Kalim as someone who would boop his lover's nose. Do you people see where I'm going with this?

You two would be in his room, studying peacefully. Before of course Kalim gets bored and starts doing random stuff. Playing with your hair or clothes, and eventually he goes to boop your nose.

You, out of reflex, lean in to gently hold his finger with your teeth. Not biting down.

I don't think Kalim would be too suprised, probably just giggle and kiss your cheek.

So yeah! Doesn't mind it! Don't do it in public or leave marks or Jamil will be on your ass.

V. Schoenheit

Vil's love language I think would be Quality time and Gift giving I don't know might be wrong on that one I'm not too sure.

Not too big on physical touch but if you wanna hug him for a short while he wouldn't mind. Definetly tries to keep it low in public. In private I feel like he would drown you in kisses.

Imagining you tried sneaking in a bite in public, this man is gonna push you away and spray water on you like you're some damn cat.

No.

Just no.

You can't leave marks on him or do something as stupid as that in public. Will give you a full 2 hour long scolding.

Would he like it? Maybe. But has a reputation to keep. He wears many outfits for photoshoots, ones that are skin showing and ones that cover his body. But he can't exactly always wear clothes that cover his neck or shoulders.

If you wanna do it you will have to do it somewhere that wouldn't be visible. Otherwise you're getting the water spray.

I. Shroud

Oh this man is def a Quality time and Acts of Service guy. Not saying he wouldn't like physical affection but would probably not be the most comfortable with it. He needs time to get comfortable yanno?

There is no way you are gonna be able to bite this man pre-relationship. No. He isn't even out of his room most of the time how did you bag him? How??

Would have to do it while he's gaming. Maybe playing a pvp game with you or something. If you wanna win you have to distract this man a little bit...

Seated infront of a screen, both of you with controllers in hand... possibly about to break it with how much of a try hard you two are being just to win. And suddenly... an idea strikes you!

Biting Idia!

It definetly worked because my guy jumps back so hard he probably hits something. But hey! You won! Just don't do that ever again.

Just no.

Okay maybe.

Just not out of nowhere like that.

Please do it again.

NOT IN A WEIRD WAY THOUGH.

...He finds it weirdly comforting...

M. Draconia

I like to think Malleus' love language is physical touch and gift giving. He would probably buy you flowers out of nowhere. I feel like he'd bring you rocks he finds pretty too idk... maybe only I think that way...

I feel like the momment you show this man any physical affection that would be considered even a little more than friendly he would assume you two were in a relationship.

So no, once again. After you two got together.

You could do it at anytime and anywhere, but for the sake of your ear drums not being busted by Sebek's screeching voice yelling about his devotion to Malleus and how disrespectful what you just did was, let's say it was in private.

He would be suprised but probably would allow it without question. Would bring your hand up to his mouth and hold your finger with his teeth while having an expression that said "am I doing this right...?"

In conclusion he doesn't care. Do it. Bite this man anywhere you want. He likes it. Probably comforting in a way.

♡. Requested by beloved @identity-theft-101

[tacticalprincess]

cw: angst, emotional manipulation, dry humping until completion

being the poor little hostage könig is in charge of looking after… he feels annoyed and helpless, listening to you sob for hours. he’s sympathetic; he can see how cohabitating with someone of his caliber might be distressing after what you’ve gone through. even after years of experience he still isn’t quite sure how to deal with this part of his job— the emotion and human interaction part. he avoids making direct eye contact with you and speaks to you as little as possible, figuring you just need space to process. little does he know that everything he does, down to the way his eyes shift uncomfortably in his hood, makes you feel even worse, self conscious and isolated, just like you’d felt when you were kidnapped. you longed to be close to the man that saved you from the situation you thought you wouldn’t make it out alive from, and the rejection you felt from him was only making the crave worse. you’d do anything to get his attention…

he returns back to your guys’ temporary hideaway to find you in the same spot he left you, curled up in the corner of the bed. his heart hurts at the image you make. he stands awkwardly in the middle of the room holding a paper bag. "i brought food and… more tissues."

you break down at the sound of his voice, the first voice that hasn’t evoked a deep sense of dread and fear into you in weeks. you can’t see through the fog of tears in your eyes, but you hear the sound of heavy footsteps inching toward you, the crinkling of the bag being set on the creaky wooden table. a large, tentative hand is placed on your shoulder, and you can’t help but lean into the touch you’ve been craving.

“don’t… don’t leave again.” you plead brokenly.

“okay…” könig sounds startled. “what do i…?”

“can you just sit with me? hold me?”

he hasn’t held anyone the way he holds you since before he can remember. it’s hesitant and stiff at first, you leaning up against his broad chest, his strong arms wrapped gingerly around you. he softens up the longer you sit there, your face buried in his neck as your crying turns into sniffling, and eventually his warm embrace feels indistinguishable from that of someone you’ve known forever— a lover, even. he just makes you feel so safe and protected. it’s not your fault that your confused, touch-starved brain reads the situation as something that it’s not.

könig’s supposed to be the clear headed one. he should stop you when you start crawling further on top of him, he shouldn’t let you sit yourself in his lap. it’s inappropriate and he knows it, only a sick man would take advantage of a young girl in such a vulnerable state. but it’s not like he isn’t also in dire need of physical affection. if he just sits back and lets you take what you need from him to be comfortable, he isn’t doing anything wrong. right?

“i’ve been so scared, so lonely.” you reason with him as your hands feel around his broad biceps through his tactical gear. the more you discover about him, the more your admiration for him grows. your breathing has turned heavy, the warmth of könig’s body paired with the feeling of having a man so close to you for reasons that aren’t to hurt you, has your cunt aching between your thighs. you’re so screwed up. “i never thanked you for saving me.”

“it’s my job.” you can hear that he’s effected too, his accent thick and deep and strained underneath his mask. you bite your lip at the sound, your little hips growing a mind of their own as they start to rut against his crotch. the sensation of your sweet heat rubbing snugly against his is enough to lower any inhibitions könig has left. fuck, he hasn’t felt anything like it in so long. “we shouldn’t–”

“it’s your job to take care of me.” hot tears start to well up in your eyes at the mere thought of stopping. you lock your arms together behind könig’s head, clamping your thighs tighter around him so he has no choice but to let you continue. “please, i need this, sir. i know you want it too.”

he could easily fight you back if he wanted to. he’s much bigger, much stronger… but he doesn’t. his hands find your hips, and you make eye contact for the first time since he rescued you, only now his eyelids are heavy with desire. he’s just as desperate as you. you got what you wanted, his full attention on you. he uses his strength to guide your movements until what youre doing can’t be described as anything else but riding his clothed erection, the friction against your sensitive clit all too much for you too quickly.

you grind against him to the point of overstimulation, too fucked-out to decide wether you want to pull him closer or push him away. he ends up deciding for you, though, hugging you until you’re pressed chest to chest, succumbing to desire. you can feel the way his bigger body dwarfs yours as you use each other to get off. tears stain your soft, flushed cheeks as you cum, pushed over the edge by the sounds of his low pants and grunts, his pulsing cock underneath you. warm with the knowledge that you made him feel as good as you. you thanked him properly.

“i’m here, engelchen. ride it out.”

the feeling of you convulsing on his dick is enough to milk könig’s orgasm out of him soon after, dirtying his pants with hot, thick cum. he strokes your head and whispers soothing words in your ear, and it’s not until you’re fast asleep on his lap that the gravity of what he’d done settles in, shame washing over him in waves…

[fanaticsnail]

Two More Times

Masterlist Here

(Image Source:)

Word Count: 4,300+

Synopsis: A meet up with a beautiful Captain has you feeling unworthy of being by Shanks' side as his partner. Shanks does not like being ignored - he wants to showcase his pretty girl sat on his knee. He reminds you of your importance to him, while punishing you for behaving like a brat. His brat.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, p in v, afab!reader, dom!shanks x brat!reader, overstimulation, Shanks begs a little bit, Shanks is a hypocrite, prolonged eye contact, inappropriate use of mirrors, has plot I swear.

Notes: This little fic was brought to you by Aussie shenanigans write night while nursing mutual hangovers. A gift for and beta-read by @sordidmusings.

Tag List: @writingmysanity, @feral-artistry, @gingernut1314

The searing burn of a scorched gaze had been fixed on your body all night long. The feel of the attention on your back as you departed, the focus pinpointed on your face as you entered; the gaze wanting so desperately to meet with your own searching within your eyes - eyes that you refused to return the longing expression to find purchase against his rust-coloured orbs. 

No illusion, nor discrepancy, had you hold any disillusion that this man - the captain of the Red-Hair Pirates, was completely smitten with you. The way he was such a gentleman for you: ordering your drinks at the tavern, ensuring you were the first to cross the threshold into a room by holding the door ajar, his body always finding itself thrust between you and harm's way. He was a captain: a man of great myth and fierce legend. His legacy will live on forever by his works and deeds alone. And he wanted you, he desired you. 

He was with you.

You desired to be by his side fingertips granting warmth to one another through presence in proximity, the almost brush of your lips meeting as your eyes glazed over. Your bodies almost always found each other in one form or another, but tonight, you were yet to clasp the final link in the heavy chains binding you physically to one another. 

The small, insignificant thing holding you back from committing to the bit; returning his gaze and advances, was the pang clashing harshly against your ribcage and desire rolling off your body in waves. This meeting with a potential Nakama for the Red-Hair Pirates; a captain as beautiful in appearance as she was in nature had you feeling inadequate and unworthy of harboring the affections of a man such as Shanks. He was yours, and you were his through and through - but she? 

Oh, she? She was spectacular. 

Instead of being Shanks’ loyal partner by his side, you engaged with your crew ensuring their drinks always remained topped up while lying idle in conversing with the new allied crew. Making polite conversation with the Nakama crew came incredibly naturally to you. You had a knack for making all those around feel special and cared for, a skillset Shanks greatly appreciated in you. 

As you maneuvered your way around Lucky Roux and Lime-Juice to meet your interlaced hands at the bar top counter, those eyes you were avoiding burned you with the same intensity you had been feeling all night. Eyes you knew should hold their intense focus in the meeting with the potential Nakama captain in front of him. You flicked your hair over your shoulder, checking on your crew while sparing a fleeting glance at your redheaded captain through your peripherals. 

His rust-coloured orbs sat unblinking and hyperfocused on your body; exactly where they shouldn’t be to ensure the meeting went smoothly. Regardless of how desperately you desired to saunter over to Shanks, quietly reprimand him in his ear with a small kiss on his cheekbone, and flee without another word: you held back to allow him space to discuss the intricacies of the meeting space with the foreign captain.

Shanks was incredibly upset about your absence at his side. He wanted his pretty girl to sit on his knee whispering praises and playful jests into his ear. He wanted to look up into your face, smiling his broad dopey grin as his pretty girl was on display for all to see. 

Instead he sat, cradling his chin in his hand and ignoring this captain he knew he should be paying his undivided attention to. But his attention did remain divided, held completely transfixed by your surliness and the subtle swing of your hips as you leant against the bar. His every sense swelled with desire to have, hold and showcase his pretty girl in front of this captain - her own attention fleeting as she held her undivided gaze on a member of her own crew. 

“Something on your mind, Red-Hair?” she asked him, watching intently as her first mate approached the bar beside you. Shanks was finally roused from his hold of contact on your back, to float to the man the captain beside him held her attention against. 

“Have you ever been in love?” Shanks uttered, smiling as he elevated his tankard to his lips. The woman beside him chuckled, looking down to her own drink and swirling her index finger over the rim.

“I am in love, Captain,” she confessed, claiming her glass in her hands with her fingertips gripping the rim; her index finger gesturing to the man beside you at the bar, “My first-mate and I have been in a relationship for quite some time. He continuously thinks himself unworthy of my affection, which is completely and utterly ridiculous.” 

“I completely understand,” Shanks said, his smile stretching over his lips and up to the peaks of his eyes, “My pretty girl is at the bar next to who I assume your first-mate be.” The captains both take a moment to watch their spouses ignore them, both engaging in polite conversation and clinking cups against one anothers. 

“They’ve been awfully quiet while we’re in our meeting, wouldn’t you say Shanks?” her brow quirked at her question. Shanks grunted out a small ‘aye’ in response, holding his eyes once more over you as you began to sway to the music swelling from the band in the corner. After a few moments of silence, both captains began to turn their smiles up into smirks as their eyes darkened. 

“A small amount of reminding them of their importance to us would be in order, do you agree?” her tone quirked at the corner alongside the elevation of her lips. Shanks huffed a laugh into the rim of his tankard, the playfulness returning to swirl with the darkness within his twinkling eyes. 

“Aye, that I can agree on,” he admitted with a small nod. The foreign captain’s first-mate glanced over his shoulder and their eyes finally met. The first-mate visibly shuddered beneath the woman’s gaze, anticipation wracking through his body at the promise of what’s to come. 

“It seems we have far more in common than we initially thought, Captain,” she nodded, rising to her feet and placing her empty glass on the table. “I shall see you in future, Red-Hair. May our newfound Nakama flourish.” Shanks nodded politely, watching the aura this captain seemed to hold over her crew. With a simple brush of her fingertips on the back of her first mate, his brows upturned and he obediently followed her exit through the threshold of the tavern door. 

And there you were: finally alone, isolated and waiting for him. 

You felt a firm hand clasp the back of your neck, tugging at the flesh and turning your head to face the presence behind you. Squeaking out a small whimper of shock, your lips met with your red-haired captain as he pressed a bruising kiss against your startled mouth.

His lips moved expertly, the hum of his voice pressed its rumbled vibration into your mouth. His brows furrowed in deep concentration, his nose sucking in an elongated breath. Rolling his tongue over his lips, he sought yours out and brushed the organ against it slowly and deliberately. 

Whistles, hollers, cheers and snickers from the Red-Hair pirates had Shanks smiling into the shameless kiss; the firm grip of his hand on the scruff of your neck rendering you helpless to do nothing but take the affection he was pressing against you. A sign of the promised punishment your present surliness held for you in your future. 

---------------------------------

The rough slaps and quickened snaps of your hips meeting with his echoed within the small room. You tried to halt your soft sobs and whimpers from overstimulation, eyes tightly shut and tears pricking at the corners as you rode him.  

"No," his voice commanded you softly. You felt his hand travel up from your thigh to rest on your face, thumb brushing against the apple of your cheek. 

Regardless of his verbal command, you continued your quickened pace: the heat of your walls sucking in his shaft at the same elevated rhythm you set earlier. 

He was yet to climax, and you had been at this for hours. He had your peak rise and fall for the upteenth time by his lips, tongue, thigh and fingers: each time, the lights dancing behind your eyes and the soft call of his name cried from your lips. 

You were desperate for him to cum. You wanted to have him share in the same bliss he had offered you so many times earlier today, the shoots of his seed buried deep within you with your name spilled as recklessly from his lips as yours did his. 

"No," he commanded once more, your relentless pace you set continued ceaselessly. You continued bouncing your body and sheathing yourself fully on his cock, feeling the twitch hitting against the top of your cervix. 

You knew he would cum like this, and you wanted him to feel his release just as he had you reach yours. You continued hastily riding him, him granting you a shuddered groan growling from between his clenched teeth. You felt him close, the small quiver of his cock depicting truly how thoroughly he was enjoying your hasty pace. Just as you felt him near his release, you expected him to fuck up into you, burying himself deeper and writhing beneath you as he came. 

Instead, his arm trailed down from your cheek, shoulder and hips: hooking around your body and holding you fully sheathed on his cock, halting your movement entirely. 

"P-Please," you whimpered, your pace fully halted by his firm arm. The twitch of his cock at your plea had you continue, "I-I-’s too much. W-Want you to feel good. P-Please Captain."

The twitch of his cock granted you the telltale sign that he halted his orgasm from shooting up into you. He lazily rolled his hips into yours, the grind of his pelvis meeting your clit and caused another cry from fleeing your lips. 

"You can take it," he whispered, rolling his hips against yours; his buried cock twitching once more, and stretching you deliciously. Your arousal coated his pubic hair and tops of his thighs, the wrap of his arm halting your every movement with the incredible strength he held you with. 

"Captain I-I-," you tried, Shanks halting your cry by sitting up while remaining still within you. You snapped your eyes open to meet his, the warm rust of his irises held a foreign emotion depicted behind them. One you had not seen for some time: overall unreadable, but not an unwelcome flavor painted on his face.

You knew you had been a tease to him earlier today. The swing of your hips, the twitch of your smirk and the looks you shot him over your shoulder were enough to warrant him clawing out climax after climax from you as punishment. Your surliness was his undoing: your refusal to acknowledge his eyes by meeting yours against them. 

As his eyes met yours now, and this new position held his cock buried deeper; his gaze no longer held that punishing brutality mixed playfulness he offered you earlier. This foreign expression you had yet seen depicted in his gaze, his words not speaking its unconfirmed intention. It was no longer the aggressive, lustful look he always threw at you during the bedroom hours, mixing with his boyish charm and humor. 

His eyes were dark, a hue of pink flushing his cheeks with a dusting of heat. Lips parted, eyes searching between yours as his breath caught in his throat. The closest you could place this expression was compared to ‘awe,’ but that was still not entirely correct. 

He began rocking you atop his lap, slow grinds of his pelvis and throbbing pulses from his cock bringing another pleasured whimper from your throat. He continued to hold your gaze, his lips parting as a slow groan fled his lips. The quiver of his jaw, the flutter of his eyelashes, and blown pupils darting its focus on your eyes held more emotion than you were used to seeing. 

"You can take it," he gasped again, "I know you can, pretty girl." You whimpered once more, feeling the slow rake of his cock pull itself out before burying it again deep within you. 

"Jus' want you to feel good. P-Please let me make you feel good," you cried once more, the swell of your exhausted tears within your eyes spurred Shanks' smile to rise against his lips. 

He halted his rocking all together, his forehead falling forward to meet against your collar bone. You cried out at his halt, desperately attempted to start your pace once more - his arm halting you by the sheer strength he held alone. 

"Just want you to cum. I’ll be so good. Please, Shanks. Please, please, please. Need it-... N-Need you-," your cries were answered by the surge of his hips and thighs propelling themselves forward, throwing your back to hit against the plush mattress. 

This small resurgence of his playfulness returning had your prior desperation for him morph into a laugh of joy - a sound mirrored by his own soft laugh. 

He propped himself up by his hand lying beside your head. As his cock slowly buried itself once more within you; mutual groans, mixed with laughter and sighs, joined together harmoniously. He sunk his weight onto your hips, his full weight halted it's descent by him angling down onto elbow beside your head. His hand began brushing your hair from your face, his playful smile never leaving his lips. 

He lunged forward, sheathing his cock completely within you and holding himself firmly there. 

His smile approached you, capturing your lips within his and brushing his tongue over your parted lips to brush against your own - his smile never leaving his lips. Pulling away his claim on your lips, he began slowly rocking his hips against yours, gasping at the feeling of your walls sucking him in further. 

"You're so desperate to feel me cum, love?" He asked you, the uptick of his voice and soft huff of laugh colliding with a sinful groan fleeing him, "You should've thought of that before behaving like a brat." 

You whimpered out a cry of bliss as his sheathed cock brushed with your g-spot, the slow, rhythmic slap of his hips colliding deeply with yours slowly echoing once more within the room. 

"No, love," he growled into your ear, successfully caging you beneath him with the hover of his body, "No. You don't get to feel me cum until I bring out another two from you. No cry of mercy or relentless fucking up into me will have me cum in you-." 

You cried as a particularly harsh snap of his hips had his weight topple down onto you. His pace quickened, the wind of the coil within your stomach began its tightening once more. 

The feel of being completely trapped beneath the weight of his body, the only movement breaking your entrapment away from his body was the small rise and fall of his hips harshly fucking into you slowly and deliberately. 

You groaned, arching your back and writhing as you felt your toes and fingertips begin to quiver at the approach of your climax. Shanks chuckled into your shoulder, his teeth slowly clamping down on the tender flesh and soothing over the bite with his tongue. 

"That's it, pretty girl," he complimented you, slowly picking up the pace of his thrusting, "You've finally realized, huh?" You whimpered, the depth of his cock brushing up against you and the pick up of his pace held your mind fuzzy and jaw slack.

"You're stuck," he growled against you, "And you're going to remain helpless and stuck through two more before I cum in you. Make no mistake, love-..." he continued to elevate his pace, the depth of his cock sinking into you brutally. 

"I will cum for you, pretty girl," his promise felt hot in your ear, scorching you as his gaze did earlier in the evening, "But not until I make you scream for me two more times."

You whimpered, the slow and deep pace he set now deliberately scraping against the tender spot within you. This new set of rhythm had your lips parting and walls condensing and squeezing against his cock. He huffed a small grunt against your ear, eyes rolling at the feeling. Wrapping your legs over his hips, you keened into his shoulder at the slow intwine of another elevation of your approaching climax. 

“There you go. Atta girl. I can feel how close you are,” He struck you with his cock, repetitively hitting the sensitive part by hooking his cock expertly within you, “C’mon now, pretty little thing. Let me hear you cry out for me.” You scrunch your eyes tightly shut, feeling the familiar buzz starting within your toes behind his back. 

Slowly pulling away his hips from your own, resheathing his cock back into you deliberately had your walls shifting and quivering for him as you cried his name through your bliss. He claimed another orgasm from you, the tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes by how tightly you clenched them shut. He pulled his face away from your shoulder, huffing in your ear before glancing at your face contorted in pleasure. 

“No, no, no, pretty girl. Open your eyes,” he slumped on his elbow, soothing over forehead and removing the hair stuck to your brow. You shook your head, physically unable to open your eyes as he shepherded you through your bliss. “Hey, hey. Open. Now.” You arched your back, your head falling away from his as you kept your eyes shut. 

“Alright then,” he uttered, feeling your high fall as you regained some semblance of your consciousness back through panting and deeply sighing. Your momentary calm was seized by the storm raging within Shanks, him unsheathing his cock from you and throwing you over his right shoulder and walking towards the tall mirror. The bob of his hard cock from each step he took had a proud smile on his face and a chuckle fleeing from his lips. 

Unceremoniously, he placed your feet back onto the ground, facing the mirror and lined his cock back up with your quivering and overstimulated hole. 

“This is what you get for being a brat and not listening, pretty girl,” he laughed into your shoulder, immediately surging forward and plunging his cock deep within you, “Keep your eyes open and watch.” 

He hooked his arm around your right hip, claiming your left hip bone beneath his palm and anchoring himself against you. Kicking your feet to part further, you had no choice but to watch his face contort within the metallic, silvery reflection as he fucked into you. The cries of your voice muffled as you took your bottom lip between your teeth.

“No. You let me hear you,” Shanks’ breathy voice whispered against your skin as he pressed his cheek against your shoulder blade. He scrunched his eyes closed and focussed on your gasps, cries and moans. You obediently unclenched your teeth from your lip, brows knitting as you whined his name repeatedly and ceaselessly. 

He groaned into your skin, baring his teeth down on your flesh to silence his own whimpered growls. The quiver of your walls sucking his cock within them had Shanks opening his eyes only to roll them back into his skull at the sensation. The grip on your hip bone held on firmer, his rhythmic thrusts and grinds becoming slopier, heavier and staggered. He was so close, closer than he would ever admit to you at this moment. 

Your abdomen began to burn beneath his bruising grip, the sensation of being trapped and helpless to him using your body in this way stoked the fires into a blaze of passionate release as he chased your climax. He held your body against his, the pick up of his rhythmic thrusting within the security of his arm had your lips parting. Your overstimulated and fucked-out expression within the mirror had Shanks chasing the spots that had you crying for him the loudest.

“Good job keeping your eyes open, pretty girl,” he praised you, his tone prompting a high whimper to pass from your parted lips. The slaps of slickened thighs and hips became louder and heavier; Shanks now opting to no longer pull all the way out of you while chasing his own high. His knob brushed its shined tip against the back of your quivering and tingling walls, your cervix being kissed with each deep thrust. You cried out for him, standing on the tops of your toes and arching your back for him to get a better angle with his cock sheathed within you.

“You better c-cum,” He stuttered against your shoulder. The hitch in his breath and the whimper within his tone alerted you that he was once again so close to his climax. He continued to chase your release, but was unable to fully tip you over the edge just like this. 

“Play with your clit,” he ordered you, watching you over your shoulder as your dominant hand sought your firm, leaking bud. “Th-That’s it-... nghm-... That’s my girl. Play with yourself while you take my cock. Little circles, pretty girl. Little circles while I fuck you through it.” You had no choice but to listen, your fingertips brushing with your aching clit while exhaustion overtook you. 

“Good girl,” he whined into your ear, his eyes meeting with yours while he watched you obediently play with your clit while he stuffed you roughly with his cock. Just his expression alone would’ve made you cum: his brows tilted up, pupils blown with list as his jaw hung slack. But the overstimulation was too much for you to continue. You whined, unable to push yourself over the edge for him as he requested you. 

“Don’t you dare stop,” he growled, watching as your hand began to halt its ministrations against your aching clit. “Make me proud, little thing. Cum on my cock and I’ll let you have mine. C’mon pretty girl. Cum on my cock again. J-Just like you did before. Cum for me, cum for me-.”

“A-Ah, Shanks!” you cried in bliss, his voice falling from your open mouth like a scream. Your arousal gushed around his cock as you came for him, your walls attempting to milk his cock of the precum he began to paint you with. 

“G-Good girl. Such a good girl,” he praised you, continuing his bruising pace while you watched him huff out his own cries of bliss, “Now you’ll get my cum. I-I’m-...mmff-... O-Oh, I’m cumming. I’m cumming for you. F-Fuck.” Ropes of his long withheld load splashed within you, the sheer force and amount prompting your shiny juices to pool down your legs as you both cried for one another. He roared your name, biting your shoulder with the clamp of his teeth over your flesh. 

As he rode you through your highs, tears began to pool down your cheeks at the sheer relief of earning his orgasm. You sobbed, body falling limp as he carried you back to the bed. He unsheathed his cock from you and caged you beneath his body, searching your face for any issue that ignited this release of emotion.

“Are you okay, love? Did I hurt you? What did I do?” he asked, wiping a tear with his thumb as you met his eyes with your own. You shook your head, angling your chin away from the brush of his thumb and pressing a small kiss against the pad of the shorter digit. He gasped, his boyish smile returning to his face while his eyes held that unfamiliar expression within them. He huffed out a breath, soothing over your hair as he whispered into your face.

“I am so in love with you, pretty girl. My pretty girl,” he confessed, closing his eyes and nudging your chin with his forehead. Your lips parted in shock, this being the first time either of you uttered the words remaining unspoken between you. You attempted to find the words to speak back to him, your voice cracking harshly from the amount of cries he pulled from you in your bliss.

“You don’t have to say it, love. I know, I know,” he confessed further, leaning up to press a firm kiss against your forehead. “You just lay back and relax while I clean up our mess, alright?” 

You weakly nodded, laying back completely against the mattress as exhaustion overcame your body. Sleep claimed you, soft and deep breaths propelling each moment for more rest to find you. 

As Shanks returned to your place on the bed, he sighed at the beautiful picture you made painted against his sheets. His pretty girl was all tired from the amount of times he made you cum, exhausted with the softest rise of heat within your cheeks. 

The next time you felt inadequate and undeserving of such treatment and attention, he would be so glad to provide you with the reminder of your importance in his life. He began to look forward to a longer and more worshipful way of showing you how much he truly loved you, and only you. 

He began cleaning up the mess he made of your bodies, maneuvering a warm cloth over every mark and splash of fluids and hungry kisses. He dried your body with a plush towel before tucking you into the bedsheets, crawling in them behind you and lacing his right arm over your hip and pulling you closer. 

“I love you,” he whispered against your neck, you stirring slightly within your slumber, “And I’ll happily remind you of how much I do any time you think I don’t.”

[aquaquadrant]

Philophobia

Word Count: 5,271 Warnings: Shipping, inappropriate/crude humor, paranormal activity, suspense/mild horror, descriptive kissing, mild language Summary: For architecture major and paranormal skeptic Grian, his friends’ after-hours ghost hunting group was just an excuse to spend time with his crush, Scar, without having to actually ask him out. But one fateful night, he finds there just might be things in this world that are scarier than emotional vulnerability… even if only by a very slim margin.

A/N: Did someone ask for a Phasmophobia-inspired Scarian au? Oh yeah, my friend @lunarcrown did! Inspired by the art she made here.

So this is kind of a modern-day college au (not set within the fictional universe of Minecraft), howEVER there are some fantasy aspects in that non-human species (like mob hybrids/monsters) still exist cuz they’re fun and I’m not giving anyone a normal modern name cuz that’s too weird. This is only Phasmophobia-inspired in that GIGS have a ghost-hunting group that functions the same way, but rarely find any conclusive evidence, and don’t have unlimited lives cuz they aren’t playing a game. With that out of the way, hope y’all enjoy, please reblog/comment if u do! - Aqua

~*~

Philophobia

~*~

“I think this is gonna be the one, guys,” Impulse says, turning their van into the driveway.

The suspension creaks as they roll over gravel, rattling the frame in a way that hums through Grian’s hollow bones. His arm is cold where it presses against the window; it’s almost sunset and Impulse has yet to get the van’s heater fixed despite his promises. Stupid demon blood keeping him warm while Grian shivers in the stupid custom pleather jumpsuit that Scar insisted they had made, for their stupid ‘brand’ as a stupid ghost-hunting group. Great, his stupid zipper’s come down again- he stubbornly zips it back up because unlike Scar, he doesn’t like constantly having his bare chest out on display.

Of course, he hasn’t got as much to show off as Scar, who must be getting up at 3 am every morning to work out in order to maintain all that muscle. No wonder Scar prefers to keep his zipper down to his belly button, and doesn’t seem to have ever met a shirt that fits him properly.

… Not that Grian’s ever paid much attention to that sort of thing. 

Grian gives an exasperated sigh. “You’ve been saying that about every case we’ve had for three years!”

“No, no, I really mean it!” Impulse insists. “I feel it in my bones.”

“Yeah,” Scar agrees, leaning forward so his shoulder brushes against Grian’s, “you know Impulse bones good!”

The earnest nature of his statement- and the unexpected physical contact- makes Grian flush. “Scar!” he shrieks, swatting Scar’s shoulder.

“What?” Scar defends. “What, he- he’s got big and strong bones, wonderful bones…”

He acts as if he’s got no idea he said something that could be taken the wrong way. And if it weren’t for the upturned corners of his mouth and the barely-restrained laugh in his voice, Grian might actually believe him.

“Dude,” Skizz chuckles from the front seat, “shut up, that’s awesome.”

Impulse sighs. “Anyway,” he says pointedly, “the place recently had a change in ownership. Previous owner passed away-”

“From murder?” Scar gasps.

Another sigh. “No, from liver failure.”

Grian snorts. “From all the drinking he did to forget about the ghostly hauntings?” he presses, exchanging a cheeky grin with Scar.

“No,” Impulse says, with the patience of a saint, “just normal old-age organ failure. The guy was ancient, and some kinda recluse. House had been in his family since it was built, but uh, he had no living relatives, no will when he died. So the bank took ownership and it’s been sitting off-market for like, fifteen years, til some hot-shot investor thought he could flip it-”

“Ughh,” Grian groans, tipping his head back against the seat. “Investors are the worst-”

“I know, I know,” Impulse soothes, “but um, he’d barely begun when things started happening. Contractors reported it day one, then the owner experienced an event himself and called us. So it’s basically still untouched.”

They haven’t even reached the end of the driveway yet, passing by seemingly endless rows of tall, gnarled pines. Admittedly, Grian’s curiosity is piqued. When he agreed to join this stupid ghost hunting group three years ago, he didn’t do so in the hopes of actually discovering any real paranormal activity. The whole idea is laughable. Ghost hunting is a pseudoscience, at best. Just a bunch of idiots scaring themselves silly in an empty house- and now they’re the idiots! Even their name is stupid: Ghost Investigation Group Services, or GIGS, embroidered on their ill-fitting pleather jumpsuits.

But despite his outright skepticism and dislike for pulling late nights in his already extremely limited free time, Grian’s got one very good reason for agreeing to join.

And his name is Scar.

Grian spent half a semester pining away at the fellow architecture major from across the lecture halls of their many shared classes. Charismatic and easy on the eyes, it was inevitable that Grian would develop a bit of a crush. But as they spent more time together during class projects and conversations in the hallway, he found out just how kind-hearted and passionate Scar was, and how easy he was to talk to, and how strong his arms looked in long-sleeved shirts…

… Yeah, ‘crush’ perhaps isn’t the right word.

So when Impulse- the engineering major who Grian was partnered with for physics lab- got the brilliant idea to start a ghost-hunting group with his best friend and roommate Skizz, and Scar expressed interest in joining, Grian made a split-second decision in a moment of weakness. He maintained his skepticism, claiming that he wanted to tag along just to prove how silly the whole idea was. Impulse was fine with it, while Scar said Grian had to wear the same uniform as them, and the rest was history.

(To be fair, that was before Grian knew it’d be a pleather jumpsuit.)

So here they are now nearly three years later, rumbling down a long gravel road in the dark and cold, up late on a Saturday night even though he still isn’t finished with his condominium model that’s due at 8 am on Monday and he’s fresh out of popsicle sticks. Moments like these almost make Grian wish he could just ask a guy out like a normal person, so they could spend time together without chasing pretend ghosts around dusty houses all night.

But that’d require him to talk about his feelings. Ugh, he’d rather let the ghosts get him.

“Alright.” Impulse slows the van to a halt. The doors unlock with a heavy clunk. “What do you guys think?”

Grian isn’t expecting much when he glances out the window. But the sight that greets him immediately prompts a hasty exit from the vehicle, scarcely noticing the sudden chill, his jaw dropping open in awe.

It’s a Victorian. Not a house that someone has mistakenly called ‘Victorian’ just because it looks old. A genuine, honest-to-goodness, Queen Anne’s style two-story Victorian manor with an asymmetrical facade and a rounded corner tower and a generous wrap-around porch, silhouetted against the fading light of the evening sky.

Grian reaches for his flashlight. Sweeping over the exterior, his breath catches. Knots of ivy creep up the walls, and there are a few places where the intricate wood trim has been lost to previous repairs and weather damage. A couple of the windows are bricked up. Most of the paint is faded and peeling. But overall? It’s beautiful.

“Oh man,” Grian murmurs, pushing his glasses back up, “look at the shape of it... look at the dormers!”

A second beam of light joins in; Scar’s emerged from the van. “Lots of character,” he says, sounding similarly entranced. “And still in great condition! Oh, it’s beautiful. It’s enough to make a man cry.”

Impulse hops out of the driver’s seat, chuckling. “I knew you two would like it. It’s an ‘85.”

Grian gives an appreciative whistle. “Look, I still don’t think we’re gonna find anythin’,” he says with a sideways look at Scar, “but I gotta tell ya… if- if I were a ghost… I think I’d haunt a proper house like this. Not those builder-grade boxes in the suburbs.”

“Right?” Impulse says, his forked tail flicking through the air. “That’s what I’m sayin’... I uh, I think this place has real potential.”

Skizz, who’s come around the van to stand with them, nods thoughtfully. “Definitely somethin’ special ‘bout it, that’s for true,” he says, exchanging a look with Impulse. Then he claps his hands together. “Alright gentlemen, let’s get movin’!”

Impulse and Skizz turn towards the van, heading to open the back.

Grian stares after them, squinting suspiciously. That wasn’t just any look. That was a Look. A Look that he knows all too well. They had that same Look on their faces at last year’s frat mixer, when they rigged the speakers at the Heta Kappa house to play ‘Margaritaville’ every time someone flushed a toilet.

It means that they’re Up To Something.

… Grian’s sure he’ll find out sooner or later.

“Well, Grian,” Scar says, hands on his hips as he surveys the property, “if it’s any connotation, at least we’ll get to study some real architecture tonight.”

Grian gives him a bemused look. “Consolation?”

Scar blinks. “Cono- what, what’d I say? Con- coronation?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, ey,” Grian chuckles, patting him on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”

~*~

“Check it out, dude,” Skizz calls excitedly, “temp’s dropping in here! Five degrees colder than the rest of the house!”

Grian makes a noncommittal noise. “It’s an east-facing room and the sun’s only just set, of course it’s colder than the rest of the house,” he says, idly passing his UV glow stick over an armchair. No prints, of course. “I doubt they’ve updated the insulation anytime within the last two decades.”

“And hey, look,” Impulse chimes in from the corner, “I’ve got EMF 1.3!”

Grian doesn’t even look up. “There’s an exposed outlet in here and I’ll bet the wiring’s older than I am. And in any case, it’s still below the recommended threshold.” Ew, okay, now that’s a suspicious UV stain on the floor, but not of the supernatural kind…

“Oh, it’s definitely not up to code,” Impulse agrees. He waves his EMF reader around a bit, making the pitch warble. “But I dunno, I think this must be the ghost’s favorite room. Might not be here right now, but I’m getting some real vibes…”

Grian rolls his eyes. “Sure…” 

Twenty minutes in, and despite the house’s hauntingly elegant construction, it’s been the same old story. The house is empty and quiet, as abandoned houses tend to be. Quite sparse, as most of the furnishings probably went to auction. The furniture that’s left is covered with tarps and every surface is coated with a fine layer of dust. He can smell mold somewhere in the floorboards and there’s apparent water damage in the ceiling.

The only renovation attempted thus far was the removal of some cheap linoleum tiles that were laid in the kitchen at some point- a renovation Grian can heartily agree with, there’s some absolutely gorgeous hardwood underneath- but they didn’t get far. The removed tiles are still sitting about in a haphazard pile, hammer and chisel abandoned on the floor beside them. Frantic footsteps smeared in the dust and powder paint the scene of a terrified contractor fleeing for their life from the reported ‘ghostly hauntings’. 

In any case, they haven’t heard any activity from the spirit box, nothing unusual has stood out on UV, and the salt Impulse laid out is still undisturbed. Surprise, surprise. Grian’s spent most of his time admiring the elaborate wooden trims lining every wall, scuffed as they are. What he wouldn’t give to properly restore this place…

“Hey, Dipple Dop?” Skizz calls suddenly. “Your radio working okay?”

Impulse gives him a curious look. “Huh? What, is there-” He pauses, glancing down at his radio. “Oh. Oh, yeah. Yeah, actually, mine’s on the fritz, must be overdue a battery change.”

“Oh?” Grian tilts his head innocently. “You don’t think it’s a ghoooost?”

Impulse purses his lips. “I don’t think everything is a ghost,” he says mildly. He clips the radio onto his belt, turning to the door. “I’ve got extras in the van, hang on…”

“I’ll go, too,” Skizz says quickly, slinging an arm and his wing around Impulse’s shoulders. “Buddy system! You know what, I- I’m tellin’ you, you never split up when hunting ghosts. That’s how they get you, dude.”

Oh. Oh, no.

Grian gives them a warning Look.

They give him a cheeky Look back.

“Yup, yeah, that’s true,” Impulse says with obvious feigned sincerity, steering Skizz out of the room. “So uh, you two keep at it, okay, and we’ll be right back…”

“Oh, okay!” Scar says cheerfully, busy setting up the tripod over in the corner and completely oblivious to their scheme. “Have a great time not getting murdered!”

Grian opens his mouth to protest, but Impulse and Skizz are already gone out the front door. Leaving him and Scar completely alone. Totally by coincidence, surely. Oh, he knew his drunken confession to Impulse at the school’s annual bar crawl fundraiser night would come back to bite him eventually.

It’s almost insulting, in a way. Like they think the only reason Grian hasn’t made a move is because he hasn’t had ample alone time with Scar. Like he needed them to give him an opportunity. But if he’d wanted to confess to Scar, he already would have. He’d have had it well done by now. They could give him a little credit.

See, the thing is, he’s thought about it. Plenty of times, in fact. But the issue he keeps coming back to is that if he tells Scar about his crush on him, then Scar will know about it. There’ll be no going back at that point. And if Scar doesn’t feel the same way- well, Grian can kiss their friendship goodbye. So yeah, no, he doesn’t think he’ll be making any dramatic love confessions tonight, strangely enough.

The risk of an awkward silence developing is astronomical, so Grian clears his throat. “Man… isn’t this place somethin’,” he says, then immediately fights the urge to cringe.

Scar, luckily, gives an emphatic nod. “It is, it truly is amazing.” He straightens up, dusting his hands off as he turns to Grian. “You know who’d really love this place, is Gem?”

“Oh, yeah, for sure,” Grian agrees. He busies himself with the UV, so he’s not just standing around. “We should take some pictures for her.”

“Oh, good idea!” Giving the tripod a final once-over, Scar wanders over to Grian. “So, any fingering goin’ on, yet?”

Grian nearly drops his glow stick. “Sorry- any what?!” he screeches, whirling around on Scar.

“You know, ghost fingers!” Scar says, perfectly innocent. He holds his hands up, wiggling his fingers in demonstration. “On the- on the glowy light?”

Grian takes a deep breath, face burning. “Oh Scar, buddy, you gotta think through your words better before you say them, alright?”

“Whaaat?” Scar pretends like he doesn’t know. “What, I’m just- you’ve got the stick, you know, little glow stick for when the ghost touches, uh-”

“Nevermind,” Grian groans. “Anyways, no, I haven’t found any ghostly handprints and I never will, because ghosts aren’t real.”

Scar folds his arms. “Well, hey, maybe the ghost is just polite! You know, he- maybe he’s just minding his business, not touching anything or- or anyone. Just because we don’t get anything on UV doesn’t mean ghosts aren’t real, I’ll have you know.”

Grian sees the challenge for what it is. “Alright…” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his spirit box. Holding the transponder to his lips, he belts out, “Where ahhre yewww?” in his best imitation of an over-exaggerated pop-punk accent. If Impulse and Skizz are eavesdropping through their radios, he hopes he gave them a start.

Scar laughs. “Oh man, been a while since I heard that one! You-”

I’m close.

Grian jumps so badly he nearly drops the box, his wings puffing out involuntarily. “What?! Wha- who said that?” he demands, spinning around.

Scar blinks at him. “What? Did you hear something through the box?”

“I- I dunno?” Grian says uncertainly. The box seems to be working as normal; when he holds the receiver down, there’s a faint hiss of static, and the bulb remains white. No further noises come from the speaker.

After a couple seconds of tense listening, Grian feels silly. Way to play it cool. He switches the box off with an exasperated sigh. “No, of course I didn’t hear anything through the box. Like I said, ghosts aren’t real.”

Scar hums noncommittally. “Oh, Grian... you know, there are some things in the world that can’t be explained.” 

Grian snorts. “Oh, yeah? Well, I- I got a few explanations for ya.” He counts on his fingers. “It could’ve been this old house creaking in the wind, or an electrical surge causing feedback through the transponder, or- or, not to mention, Impulse and Skizz pranking us through the radio?”

Scar snickers. “That does sound like something they’d do, I’ll give you that.”

“Yeah.” Grian slips the box back into his pocket. “And y’know, being in a creepy abandoned house, after dark, out in the middle’a nowhere... it’s easy to think you’re hearin’ things.”

Scar rolls his eyes, but his expression is fond. “I know, I know, so you’ve told me. But one of these days, mister, you’re gonna eat your words.”

“Right,” Grian drawls. “I’m so scared…”

The front door slams shut.

That makes Grian pause. They always leave the front door open while out on a job. It saves time when they have to go back and forth from the van, and saves battery life on their radios when they can just shout to each other through the open doorway. Obviously this job is a little different, because Impulse and Skizz have clearly got it in their heads to try and get him and Scar together, but he wouldn’t think they’d go so far as to-

The lights suddenly flicker and go out. But in the split-second before they do, Grian sees a shadowy figure silhouetted against the door.

Pure instinct takes over. Grian spins on his heel, grabs Scar by the arm, and absolutely flies down the stairs to the basement. He knows they’ve disturbed one or two piles of salt but right now, he can’t bring himself to care. His wings are bumping against the walls and he’s certainly never tried carrying someone as big as Scar before but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t even process the ache of it rattling through his body. He bursts into the basement, feathers flying, and careens towards the back of the room, around a tall shelving unit, and into the corner.

There’s a heap of boxes stacked up in this corner; Grian unceremoniously shoves Scar over top of them, dropping him in the narrow space between the boxes and the wall. He’s wedged in as far as he can himself, laying across the boxes, his double pair of wings preventing him from squeezing in beside Scar. He’s still got the UV light clenched in his fist, he realizes belatedly- he braces his forearms against the wall to try and cover it, fanning his wings out behind him to block it out from the rest of the room. Glancing back over his shoulder, he tries to gauge how much light is getting through when a noise makes him freeze.

Footsteps.

They’re soft and light- certainly not the heavy boots of Impulse or Skizz. No, they sound almost barefoot. And as they gently tap down the stairs, the sound of giggling fills the air. It’s a feminine voice. Young, like a child. Like a little ghostie girl is prancing down the stairs to murder them.

Grian thinks he might pass out. Can ghosts actually kill people? How would they do it if they’re incorporeal? He’s never considered the question before, he never thought he’d have to because it’s ridiculous, ghosts aren’t real, of course they can’t kill people-

The footsteps stop. 

Grian isn’t sure if he’s still breathing. He doesn’t dare move. A chill runs up his spine, making every single feather stand on end. He can almost hear the high-pitched violins that would be playing right now if this were a horror movie; the cheesy, overdrawn kind of horror movies that are always playing at the drive-in that the four of them watch while piled into the back of the van in a tangle of limbs and spilled popcorn and oh god he’s spiraling now because he’s about to be killed by a ghost-

Bye-bye!

The chill recedes. Somewhere in his peripheral vision, he sees the faint glow of light from upstairs return.

It’s over.

Grian’s mind is spinning. What was that? What was that? It seems impossible, it doesn’t even feel real to be in this situation right now but he is, there was a ghost, there was a ghost. It feels insane to even think it. But the residual adrenaline coursing through his body reminds him it was very real, he just encountered a ghost.

A ghost! Oh, after three years of very loudly decrying the entire concept as rubbish. He can’t believe it. He really can’t believe it, this is the absolute last thing he expected to happen tonight. Ghosts are real. Ghosts are really, really, real. He doesn’t know what to do, who would ever believe him? Is this how the others have been feeling this whole time? God, he can’t believe this-

“G...?” Scar’s voice pipes up hesitantly. “What... what are we doing?”

Oh, right. Grian glances down at Scar- and his heart jolts. He’d been so focused on getting away from the ghost, he’d acted without thinking, so only now does he realize the... predicament he’s put them in.

Scar’s slumped against the floor beneath him, head tucked just below Grian’s arms. His long legs are still draped over the box that Grian’s laying across, resting on either side of his waist. And due to the odd posture Grian’s in, his chest has been thrust rather close to Scar’s face, lit by the soft purple glow of the UV.

This is probably the closest Grian has ever been to sitting in Scar’s lap.

Grian’s not proud of the yelp that escapes him. “Sorry, sorry!” His wings flail as he struggles to push himself off of the wall, stumbling back onto his feet. It’s clumsy and uncoordinated and he nearly falls backwards, his heart pounding.

Scar manages a laugh, easing himself up off the floor. “No, no, it’s okay, I- I just... what- why’d you bring us down here?” he asks, dusting off his jumpsuit.

Grian catches his breath. “Wait, you... didn’t hear the creepy ghost on its way to kill us?” he asks, frowning.

Scar‘s eyes widen. “What? There was a ghost?”

No way.

“Are you-!” Grian throws his arms up. “Honestly, I- I know avians have better hearing than most but that’s insane. She was laughing! Laughing and skipping down the blumin’ steps! And you didn’t hear any of it?”

“No…?” Scar shrugs helplessly. “I’m sorry, okay! I- I don’t know, I was- a lot was happening, you- you’re grabbin’ me, pulling me down the stairs and into this little corner, I didn’t know what was going on! I didn’t know, I- I was all disconbodulated- disco- bobo, bobumated? I was a little distracted, okay. Jeeze, give a man a break…”

“Distracted?” Grian repeats incredulously. “You’re the one who actually believes in ghosts, here, how could you get distracted? What do you…”

He trails off. Scar is very clearly fighting to avoid looking at Grian, but for the briefest moment, his eyes dart down to Grian’s chest. Suddenly confused, Grian follows his gaze, and-

Oh, for goodness sakes. At some point during his frantic flight, the stupid zipper on his stupid jumpsuit came down again, exposing a frankly scandalous amount of skin. Not Scar-level of scandalous, but pretty close.

Grian immediately feels himself turn red. “Oh. Uh- right,” he hastily pulls the zipper back up, “sorry ‘bout that…”

Wait. Wait just a second. 

Scar was distracted from a literal ghost hunt going on... because Grian’s bare chest was showing? Does that... does that mean he liked it? 

Scar’s avoiding his gaze again. His cheeks are tinted pink.

“Scar...?” Grian ventures carefully. “Were you... lookin’ at my chest?”

Scar’s cheeks darken. “Ah, I- I- don’t- I mean, why would you- I didn’t mean to, it’s just...” He fumbles for the words. “What- what am I- hey, your pecs were basically in my face! I wasn’t trying to look, I- I just-”

“Scar,” Grian says, keeping his voice light and teasing, “did ya… did you like what you saw?”

Scar splutters for a moment. “Well, sure, Grian,” he tries to laugh it off, “I mean, anyone- anyone with eyes can see you’re uh, you know, you’re- you’re pretty attractive. I- I’m secure enough to say it, I don’t care, it’s- sure, of course, you’re very muscular! You’re a- you’re a muscular man, it’s just not always obvious with the sweaters you wear. Or- sorry, you call them jumpers in Britain land, right, they’re jumpers-”

“You been checkin’ me out, Scar?” Grian asks, caught somewhere between playfulness and utter disbelief.

“Uh...” Scar rubs the back of his neck. He exhales slowly, clearly debating with himself. “I... maybe? What... what would you say... if that were the case?”

Grian swallows. His heart is absolutely racing now, and he’s broken into a cold sweat that’s definitely not supernatural in origin. The air between them feels fragile; he’s acutely aware that a single word from him could swiftly plunge them back into the realm of safe familiarity, of casual light-hearted teasing between friends. Scar’s always said things that bordered on the flirtatious, and Grian can hide behind the plausible deniability of teasing. This entire interaction doesn’t have to mean anything. It can be easily moved past and forgotten.

And yet, strangely enough… Grian doesn’t want it to. Maybe it’s the post-haunting adrenaline or the fact that he could’ve died tonight, but all of a sudden, he feels like taking a chance. Like he could finally say what he’s wanted to say for the last three years. He managed to hold his own against a blumin’ ghost, for goodness sakes- he should be able to face his own feelings head on.

He takes a breath. “I’d say that’s a relief… ‘cause I’ve been checkin’ you out since day one of first year.”

Scar stares at him for a long moment. His expression is utterly unreadable. The silence draws on long enough that Grian feels a spike of panic, worried that maybe he’s mishandled the situation-

 “... oh my god,” Scar says finally. “Really?”

It sounds like the good kind of surprise. Grian offers a shy smile. “Yeah, yeah,” he admits. “I- Scar, I know I’m real good at playin’ these things close to the vest, but uh, I- I’ve had a massive crush on you since... basically since the day we met.”

“Huh.” Scar blinks. “You’re serious. You- you’re not pranking me right now?”

That startles a laugh out of Grian. “No! Scar, I don’t- we just survived being hunted by a ghost, I’m not pranking you!”

“Well, that’s- that’s amazing!” A grin spreads across Scar’s face- and man, oh man, does he have just the most wonderful smile. “Oh my gosh, G, I don’t- you don’t even know how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

The relief is almost overwhelming. “Yeah, me too!” Grian laughs, half-dazed and half-giddy, running a hand through his hair. “I- I even- look, the whole reason I even joined this group was as an excuse to hang out with you!”

Scar’s mouth falls open. “No way! That’s- that’s the whole reason I joined in the first place, too!”

Now it’s Grian’s turn to gawk. “Are you joking?”

“I’m not!” Scar insists, “I swear, I’m not- Impulse said he wanted to start the group and maybe we’d all join and get to hang out and I thought ‘hey, ghosts are cool and Grian is cool’ so I just-”

“Oh, I can’t believe this…” Grian groans, hiding his burning face in his hands. “We really are idiots, we’ve wasted nearly three years…”

Scar’s hands close around Grian’s wrists, lightly pulling them down from his face. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time,” he says smoothly, leaning in.

Corny, but Grian will allow it. He closes the gap, tilting his head up to meet Scar’s lips.

In that moment, everything else fades away. All the nervousness, all the second-guessing, even the bombshell discovery of the existence of ghosts- there could be one standing in front of them right now and Grian wouldn’t care. The way Scar gathers Grian in his arms, hands gently roving through his feathers- it’s bliss. It’s perfect.

Scar kisses him strong and purposefully, with no trace of carelessness or haste. He doesn’t rush. There’s intent written into every single movement, jaw working to deepen the kiss. Grian curls against him, hands splayed across Scar’s chest. He can feel Scar’s heart pounding through his flushed skin, and it’s wildly exciting- to think Scar is just as breathless as he is. 

Growing bold, Grian dares to slip his tongue into Scar’s mouth, and the noise he makes- part surprise, part delight- sends pure electricity fizzling up his spine. His mind is starting to drift away from him, lost in the sensation of weightlessness, of floating, that almost makes him feel like he’s gone completely incorporeal- like his own spirit has become untethered from the mortal coil.

Then Skizz’s voice comes down the stairs.

“G-Sharp! Scarface! You down here? We just saw a freaking ghost on the cams, and- oh my god!”

Grian breaks away from Scar, but not quick enough. He turns to see Skizz and Impulse standing at the bottom of the stairs, expressions shocked. And then, as if they’d rehearsed it, they both break into massive shit-eating grins and spin around to high-five each other.

“Woo!” Impulse cheers. “We got ‘em! Ladies and gentlemen, we finally got them.”

“Yeah, baby!” Skizz pumps his fist in the air. “Oh, I love it!”

“Oh, would you two stop it?” Grian huffs, but he’s not really cross. Hard to be cross when he’s on cloud nine. “The ghost did most of the work, alright?”

“That’s right,” Scar sniffs, winding an arm around Grian’s waist. “You know, I- I’m startin’ to think you all were in cahoots! Cahoots, I say!”

“Dude, if only,” Skizz laughs, walking over to clap them on the shoulders. “Could not have planned it better, that’s amazing. Well done, gentlemen!”

“Yeah, it’s about time!” Impulse adds, crossing his arms. “I was starting to think we’d graduate before either of you fessed up, I- I had to take drastic measures…”

“Impulse,” Grian says warningly, “if you’re about to tell me you started this whole paranormal investigation group just as a way to push me and Scar into confronting our feelings, I swear-”

“No, no,” Impulse assures him, chuckling. “I really do like the ghost-hunting deal, don’t worry. But uh, we did deliberately ditch you guys in the hopes that something would happen.”

Scar waggles his eyebrows. “Oh, things happened, alright.”

“Scar!” Grian swats at him, but he’s laughing and it feels good. It feels right. After all this time spent worrying about worst-case scenarios, about denying his feelings for the sake of maintaining the comfortable mundanity of his comfortable life, it turns out the scariest part was the fear itself.

The irony doesn’t escape his notice. A bit on the nose, if he’s honest.

“But in even bigger news,” Impulse graciously continues, “you saw the ghost? And you believed it? You, Mr. Non-Believer in all things ghostly?”

Grian sighs. “Yeah, yeah, I know…”

“This is incredible!” Skizz claps his hands together. “Okay, okay, we gotta go cleanse the area and I wanna hear everything, got it? Don’t leave a single detail out!”

Grian slips his hand into Scar’s as they follow Impulse and Skizz back up the stairs. “Yeah, alright,” he relents. He supposes he’s due for a lot of ‘I told you so’s’. But really, it’s a small price to pay for the life-altering knowledge that ghosts are real… and for finally finding the courage to believe in something extraordinary.

Scar hums. “Wait, details about the ghost or about the kissing?”

“Scar!”

~*~

[novlr]

How to write loneliness?

Loneliness is a universally shared emotion that shapes the psyche of your characters and the world they inhabit. It’s a silent force that can drive and change your characters, adding layers of complexity and pathos to their development. Here are some quick tips to write about characters experiencing loneliness.

Behaviour

May avoid social interactions.

Often choose to isolate themselves.

A lack of enthusiasm for activities they once enjoyed.

May appear distracted, distant, or aloof.

Neglect their personal appearance or living space.

Overuse technology or social media as a substitute for real-life interaction.

Engage in one-sided conversations with pets or inanimate objects.

Have a rigid routine that keeps them isolated.

Live vicariously through fictional characters in books and on TV.

Resist attempts by others to engage with them socially.

Interactions

Conversations may be brief, superficial, and lacking in depth.

Avoid eye contact and physically withdraw in social settings.

Miss social cues or respond inappropriately during interactions.

Exhibit envy or resentment towards those with strong social connections.

Overly formal or distant, even with friends.

React negatively to offers of companionship or help.

Express a cynical or negative view of relationships and friendships.

Display relief when social interactions are over.

Deflect personal questions and redirect the conversation.

Have a small social circle but lack a true confidant or intimate relationships.

Body language

Slumped shoulders or lowered head to avoid drawing attention.

Minimal or restrained gestures during conversations.

A fixed or blank expression, showing their detachment.

Fiddle with objects or their clothing as a self-soothing behaviour.

Cross their arms or legs defensively when approached.

Sit or stand at the edges of a group, physically distancing themselves.

Might have a nervous tick or habit when faced with social interaction.

Exhibit slow or lethargic movements, suggesting a lack of energy or interest.

Have a personal bubble they are reluctant to let others penetrate.

Usually the last to arrive and the first to leave social gatherings.

Attitude

Express a philosophical or poetic view on the nature of solitude.

Have an air of resignation or acceptance of their loneliness.

Harbour a secret hope of finding connection, but feel it is unattainable.

Quick to criticise or judge others as a defence mechanism.

Have a deep internal world that is rich and complex, contrasting with their outer displays of loneliness.

Believe that they are fundamentally different or disconnected from others.

Have a strong sense of self-reliance, seeing it as a necessity.

Demonstrate a fear of rejection or abandonment that prevents them from reaching out.

Heightened sensitivity to the pain of others, stemming from their own loneliness.

Experience moments of clarity or creativity when they are alone.

Positive story outcomes

Find strength and independence in solitude.

Experience personal growth and self-discovery.

Form a meaningful connection that alleviates their loneliness.

Gain a deeper understanding and empathy for the loneliness of others.

Use their time alone to develop a skill or pursue a passion.

Find that solitude allows for reflection and the development of a clear perspective.

Inspire others to appreciate their own company and find peace in solitude.

Become a catalyst for change, helping others to overcome their loneliness.

Create a work of art or literature that expresses their feelings and connects with others.

Their experiences of loneliness make their relationships more meaningful when they do occur.

Negative story outcomes

Become increasingly detached and withdrawn from the world.

Develop mental health issues such as depression or anxiety.

Make poor decisions due to a lack of guidance and support.

Grow to resent others, leading to conflicts and misunderstandings.

Spiral into destructive behaviours as a way to cope.

Experience a sense of hopelessness about ever finding connection.

Become distrustful of others, hindering potential relationships.

Lose touch with social norms and struggle to reintegrate into society.

Overlook or sabotage potential opportunities for companionship.

Leave a lasting impression of sadness and regret in the narrative.

Helpful vocabulary

Forlorn

Sequestered

Estranged

Abandoned

Reclusive

Isolated

Adrift

Detached

Solitary

Alienated

Despondent

Forsaken

Lonesome

Marooned

Melancholic

Ostracised

Remote

Unaccompanied

Vacant

Withdrawn

Yearning

Bereft

Disconnected

Outcast

[oval3000]

Chapter 5

Yandere Psych Patient König x Nurse Reader

Warning: Possesive, Obsession, Death, Gore, Blood, Smut, Toxic behavior, age gap.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

-------------------------------------------------------

"Seriously, I'm talking to you and you're dismissing me!" Dr. Smith followed Mr. Miller trying to get off the elevator.

He turned around clenching his fist. His stared at her with pure hatred, "shut. Up. You are a psychiatrist! Do your dam fucking job and leave me out of it. The only way you get to talk to me is if it's work related not to fulfill your pathetic needs. If you're so desperate for sex? Get a dam husband!"

He left the elevator, leaving her shocked. He walked towards the nurse's station and saw you doing your work on the computer. He hasn't spoken to you after his attempt and neither have you. You avoided him like like the plague. After the comfort König gave you, you apologized for how inappropriate it was for a worker to get her personal feelings get in the way of work. He spoke to you with his thick accent, telling you that you're more than just his nurse. It really took you back at how wrong it was for you to have this sort of connection towards a patient. You had to keep your distance, even König made it a bit hard for you.

He's been more comfortable giving you physical touch by touching your cheek with his finger or tracing your hand with his. Even so, he's noticed the distance you made with him. He didn't enjoy it.

Everything has been complicated for you. Your co-wrokers wanted to know why Mr. Miller called you in his office. They were too curious about it and kept nagging you for an answer, but you told them that nothing happened. You wanted to march out those doors and never come back, but it means giving up your lifestyle you have sacrificed to live.

The heels of Dr. Smith came near you and the scent of her strong perfume lingered around you. "Check König's vitals."

"I already did." You pointed to the computer screen of König's last vital check.

She crossed her arms, rolling her eyes, her eyebrows form a sharp arch as her wrinkles showed more perfoundly, "and I'm asking you to do it again." You looked at back the computer, not staring at the screen perse, but just nothing. "Is there a problem (y/n)?"

"No." You got your supplies ready and went into König's room.

He was surprised you came in three times already and dinner time hasn't even passed. However, you're lonely visit was interrupted when Mr. Miller entered the room. He shut the door, which alarmed you. No, he wouldn't, he couldn't possibly, not infront of König, you thought.

"I think we need to talk." He said, watching you prepare to check König. You haven't made eye contact with anyone yet. "About what happened the other day." König tilted his head, listening to the conversation. His fingers tingled a bit, feeling a bit of a twitch. Mr. Miller reached to touch the side of your arm only for you to quickly yank yourself away. " I didn't mean to do those things to you. I was just stress with everything that is going on. Look, your wonderful and beautiful." His placed his hand on your back reaching," why don't I take you out for dinner, my treat," down to your ass. You felt as he gave it a squeeze, which made you jump causing you to bump into the cart. This caused König to stand up.

Was he foolish, stupid. König couldn't believe it. He swooped in and stood between you and Mr. Miller. He stood tall and broad in front of him, making him look like a child wearing a suit. "Wh-what are you doing, König. Get back on your bed." He pointed his finger on his chest, shaky, but trying to keep his confidence. "Listen to me now! Go back to your bed...you fucking looser," he whispered.

"Looser! Looser!"

Without a single thought, a single hesitation. He grasp his finger and with a quick, smooth, swift, König move it to the side. Mr. Miller let out a shriek of pain as he felt the bone of his finger breaking in half. He saw the blood coming out as the bone sticked out. "AAAHH! SHIT!"

He moved his hand with the compound fracture close to him, blood driping down to the floor, covering the white tiles with red liquid.

You covered your ears with the loud scream he made. "HELP ME (Y/N)!" He screamed at you. You were facing König's back. You were afraid. Afraid of everything.

He is going to hurt you too? Is he going to turn around and break your neck? You thought.

"FUCK!" Mr. Miller took another look at his finger and saw the bone clear as day. You peaked through and saw. You walked in front of König and saw the fracture. You were about to grab Mr. Millers hand with the wound, until you felt big, strong, hands on your arm, yanking you away from Mr. Miller. It made you collaps onto König's torso.

You heard multiple people trying to open the door. People screaming at others to get the extra key.

You felt König's breath near your neck. He lowered his head to get close to you. You felt his lips near your ear, "Is he the one, schatz?" Not breaking eye contact with Mr. Miller.

The one. The one that almost raped you in his office. You didn't say anything, you just shook your head to give him an answer.

The door eventually flew open as guards rushed in to assist the situation. They looked at Mr. Miller and saw his despair of his broken finger. Jacob and the fellow nurse rushed to help him, wrapping gauze around to help stop the bleeding while they called 911. Dr. Smith made her way and saw the scene. She was left in shock. Her jaw dropping to the floor. Her eyes widen so big it looked like her eyeballs were going to pop off her eye socket. She followed the blood trails and saw you in Königs brace.

The guards telling König to let you go. Were you his next victim? you thought. Was he going to kill you? Everything was killing you on the inside.

König released the grip he had on your arm. You walked away from him and went towards the guards.

"Sedate him." Dr. Smith demanded one of the nurses. You didn't stand up. You didn't interfere. You watched as they stuck a needle into Königs arm.

He flopped onto his bed unconscious. Everyone left the room including you. They took Mr. Miller to the hospital as the rest of the staff made in the report. Dr. Smith wasn't happy. Not one bit.

She was furious. She stared you and thought about how stupid you look. Just standing there, in shock..maybe. You didn't mutter a word. Your workers tried to question you, what happened? But you didn't give them an answer.

"(Y/n). (Y/n)!" Dr. Smith yelled out. It finally got your attention. Everything went back into sync. The blurred vision finally cleared and the echoing finally stopped. "You need to come with me for the report. Now!"

You followed her into the elevator. Her feisty walked made her heels clink harder on the floor.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, you felt the palm of her hand smacking up against your left cheek. "You stupid bitch!" Your head turned to the side, holding your irritation it developed.

"You bitch! Instead of studying, you're becoming a whore!" The mother smacked the girls cheek, making the girl cry in pain.

"Mom!? Why would you hit me!?" She cried out.

"For being a slut! Just like that cunt that stole your father!" She yelled back at her.

"We were only studying. I was just tutoring him. We did nothing wrong!" The girl tried to reason with her mother, who was in distress with what she thought she caught her daughter trying to seduce one of her fellow classmates, but the truth is she was just tutoring him.

That's all. She was just tutoring the boy who was struggling with math. Until her own mother came in and saw, greeting herself to him, saying goodbye to him. The innocent daughter thinking her mother would be proud of her for helping someone in need. Instead it was all...

"Lies! Don't lie to me (y/n)! I know exactly what you were doing. Seducing that man for your liking." She argued with her 15 year old daughter. "How dare you do this to me. Becoming a prostitute while your own mother is sick!"

"I'm sorry, mom. I wasn't doing anything to him, I swear!" The last plea she gave to her mom before recieving one last slap from her mother.

"You are a nurse and you can't even help someone in need! You let someone like Mr. Miller, who has been nothing but nice to you, get hurt like that!" She yelled at you. Your hand was trying to sooth the irritated left cheek she gave you. "So pathetic! If you think you can get away from this then think again. As soon as he's back, you'll be walking out of here."

She told you to leave. To clock out and take the rest of the day off. She said, she couldn't bare to look at you anymore. Everything you do is a disaster.

"Auughh! What a day!" Jacob groaned, closing the cabinet with the medical supplies.

"I know. Poor (y/n). I feel bad for her. Having to deal with someone like König." She sighed smacking the bottle for it to open.

The other nurse pitched in giving glances to them, "I heard that she gets triple the pay, just to take care of König. That's the reason why we are short staffed and lack of working supplies."

"Are you kidding me! She gets like what? Four patients and gets paid way more then us. Way more then Jacob, who does the heavy lifting. " The nurse, Mia, the one who banged the bottle to open, said.

"Don't feel bad for her anymore, Mia?" Jacob said, standing next to Mia.

"I did, but it's hard to feel bad for someone who does less work and gets paid more then us even though we all have the same title." She scuffed "We all went to nursing school to get our degrees only for us to get bitch slapped. I guess I feel bad, I mean, almost getting killed isn't worth anything."

"I heard that she fucks König and the administrator." The nurse, Wendy, said crossing her arms.

Mia let out a laugh of denial, "No! How!?"

"I mean she's always defending König and the way he held her earlier. They definitely fuck. Plus everytime, she leaves his room, she's happy. You don't walk out of a lunatics room unless he shoved his cock inside your pussy." Wendy leaned in closer to Jacob and Mia, "and i heard from Mr. Miller's secretary that she heard Mr. Miller talking about how good (y/n)s pussy looks like. And that she saw (y/n) walking out of his office with her clothes looking a little shriveled."

"Oh my gosh! Is that why she didn't want to tell us why she was called to his office?" Mia exclaimed with joy, like she was on celebrities gossip. "I mean it makes sense that König broke his finger. Two lovers fighting for the same vigina."

"Are you guys finish gossiping" Dr. Smith said towards the three nurses all huddled up together.

"Sorry." They said in a union.

Dr. Smith smacked the file of paperwork into the small desk. She wasn't deaf, she heard what they were gossiping about.

Mr. Miller and (Y/n). Dr. Smith didn't love it. She stared down at her wedding ring finger.

"You're leaving me!?"

"Sarah, I can't do this. Not with you!" The men screamed at her as he packed his suitcase.

"You're leaving me for that slutty waitress!" She screamed at her husband, yanking out his clothes from the dresser.

"Don't call her a slut! The only slut is you!" He words tamed with anger, burning her heart like acid.

"How many times do I have to apologize!? Me and Ben, it was only a one time thing." She plead trying to get her husband's affection. "I thought we pushed back this."

"No! You pushed it back! You wanted to pretend like nothing happened after you slept with another men! With! Your! Colleague! In! Our! Bed! Sarah!" He pulled his arm away from his soon to be ex- wife from her touch.

"And what! You don't think it hurts me too, to see you with another women. What is it!? What does she have that I don't!?" She cried to him. For an answer an answer as to why her husband went out to sleep with a beautiful waitress that attends him with his needs.

"Loyalty! Respect! Careness!" He answered her walking away from their shared bedroom, rolling his suitcase with him.

"Loyalty!? A homewrecker doesn't have any loyalty!" She chased after him.

He turned to her, hovering over her, "And you do!? She's not a homewrecker. The only homewrecker here is you when you slept with that Miller. You ruined this marriage, not her. You ruined this for us, not her. So go cry to Ben, because I don't care. Goodbye Sarah, have a nice fucking life."

Sarah saw as her husband left her. She reached to her phone. "Ben. Ben is me. He left me, Ben. I'm all alone." She cried to him.

"Dr. Smith."

"So what? You want to fuck her? Is that it. Never head young pussy before?"

"Dr. Smith." She snapped away from her thoughts and looked at Jacob. "König. He's awake."

"Check up on him." She said.

Jacob gave her a nod and walked away.

Jacob entered Königs room alongside a guard. He placed his medication on the table. König stood up. It alarmed them.

All of them.

Dr. Smith couldn't comprehend anything. She was so in her own thoughts, the screams of pain went passed her.

The screams of nurses and guards running. It finally caught her attention. She turned around in her chair and saw Jacob on the floor. His neck slit opened. The blood squirting out of his neck and into the walls and tiles. He tried his hardest to crawl away.

But nothing stopped König. She saw him coming out of his room. The guards ran to him, to hold him down, but all König did was to smash their heads into the wall. Nurses running away from him, but he quickly yanked their hair closer to him. He twisted Mia's neck all the way to the back until her spine cracked open. Wendy tripped on the blood and got her head stomped by his large foot.

Dr. Smith stood up from her chair, seeing the massacre. The screams from guards and nurses ringing in her ears. His eyes landed on her.

She ran. She ran as far as she could. She opened the door for the emergency staircase. She ran while looking back to see if he was still chasing her. Her stupidity of not paying attention caused her heel to miss a step, making her trip down.

Her hands landed on the floor, preventing her face from smashing into the tile floor. She groaned in pain. She looked down and saw her knees, right below her dress skirt, bleeding. She heard the door open and saw König walking down the stairs. She saw the look on his eye.

"Please! Please don't hurt me!" That doesn't stop him from getting close to her. She tried getting up, but her legs felt like they're going to snap. She stumbled down and landed on the floor.

She cried her eyes out. Turning around so her back is faced away from him. " *hic* please! Please don't hurt me! Please!" The Burning tears made it hard for her to see clearly.

König grabbed her neck, lifting her up from the ground. "I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry. I...I'm SO SORRY!"

He grabbed a chunk of her dirty, blonde, hair and with a quick movement, he smashed her head onto the wall...repeatedly. Over and Over.

The blood coming out. The chunk of skull falling to the floor. Her brain matter slushing out.

He threw her dead body to the floor and walked the rest of the stairs down. Finding his old clothing where he first arrived here. His tight compressed black t-shirt, his tan trousers and his black t-shirt- mask, his combat boots.He placed the needle inside his pants and went on to his destination.

Being a computer analyst and specialist really come in handy.

But nothing beats the help of his good ol'pal.

"Hello?"

"Horangi. It's König."

-------------------------------------------------------

The night fell. The moon shining through your curtains. You took off your shower robe, put on a bra and a white tank top and some comfy shorts. You fixed your hair and went to the kitchen.

You opened up a tea bag and dumped it into the mug with hot, boiling, water.

Silence filled the room in your apartment. You decided to enjoy this time off. To take advantage of it.

You made your way to the living room and placed the mug onto the glass table, next to the couch. You roamed around to see the remote, but couldn't find it.

The sound a bang coming from your bedroom startled you frozen. You have a view of your room and saw the window, near your bed, open.

Either be stupid like the characters in horror films and check it out, or walk out of this building.

Either way, ignorance is bliss. Pretending that you never heard anything in the first place.

You entered the bedroom, taking precaution, quickly glancing you room and found nothing.

You entered to grab your blanket when out of sudden you felt a hand covering your mouth, preventing you from making any noise. The large hand covering your entire bottom half face. You felt strong wall behind you. "It's okay, die liebe"

He pulled out a needle, the same needle they use to sedate him. He injected it into your arm.

It didn't take long for you to fall unconscious. He lifted you up and carried you, bridal style. He carried you out and placed you in his car. "Don't worry, schatz. Ich bringe dich nach Hause. (I'm taking you home.)" He caressed your cheek, giving you a light kiss on the lips. "unser Zuhause. (Our home.)"

"Mein Liebling."

"Mine."