#but he can handle stars crazy attitude so it all works out

[arckalia]

An armful of seeker and an awkward pair

[crash-and-cure]

If I Were You Part 5 (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Summary: Love is the only rational act. Call him crazy or unhinged all you want, that sounds just about right to Elvis. 

A/N: Well... it’s been a minute. Sorry y’all I’ve been having to deal with a move recently which set me back alot in terms of finding free time to write but I’d rather it be late and good than early and rushed. This chapter is going to be from Elvis POV so if it feels like there is a bit of a heel turn from reader know that that is why. We’ll also be getting insight as to how reader has been feeling these last few months and how she handles what happened in this chapter in the next.

Warnings: Yandere!Elvis so expect themes of obsessive, manipulative, jealous, and heavily delusional behavior as well as references to previous blackmail, emotional and otherwise, here too. Dubious consent in some areas. Inappropriate relationship with a Therapist (Though she is no longer one at the moment). Depictions of a therapy session. Explicit sexual content depicted that includes Penetrative sex (m/f), Daddy Kink, Praise kink, a bit of somnophilia (she does not stay asleep), vaginal fingering, and a tiny bit of anal play. Also mentions of Elvis' mommy issues, though he’ll never call them that and reader’s daddy issues because parallels. Period typical misogyny depicted and reflected by POV character’s attitude towards women in the orkplace. Finally depictions of a toxic relationship that include power imbalances, emotional manipulation, heavy use of coercion, grabbing that leads to bruising and deception. Please do not interact if you are under 18.

Word count: 14K

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4

Masterlist

Humility is something Elvis always tries to work towards. Even as his star grew to new heights he could never have dreamed of before, he always in the back of his head felt as though he was just a step away from losing it all. And he almost did, not in the sense of losing the fame or the money, but he did lose sight of what he loved, in who he loved and 

But people didn’t stop loving him. 

He’s been honest with you that this was a heavy burden he had to bear, that need to fix himself not for his own sake but for others. The idea that him running himself ragged into an early grave felt less like a fear, and more like an inevitability. 

And yet he beat the odds, and now he looks forward to all that life has to offer now.  

Elvis tries to be humble, but it’s hard to do so when every morning he gets to wake up next to the most beautiful, most intelligent, and most caring woman in the world, with the full knowledge that you’re his alone. 

He never thought it was possible to love someone so deeply like this. 

Sure at first you yourself used to see an issue in this kind of love, but he eventually brought you around. Sure it can be an awful thing when someone is vile, and taking advantage of the other, but he knows he never has to worry about that from you. 

You take care of each other, and ain’t that what it’s all about? 

Those other people don’t know what the two of you got, and have never experienced a love like yours. If they could even experience a fraction of the love he felt for you, they would understand why nothing could keep him away from you. How cruel it would in fact be to keep either of you apart. 

Now as he holds you in his arms he’s content in the knowledge that no one has any right to do so. 

Those first few months of your relationship, there would be times when he woke up and even seeing you he couldn’t entirely trust it was truly you. His mind had played tricks on him before with all those other women he had had right before you, and he would have to feel the devastating grief that these women weren’t you. 

He doesn’t even remember most of their names, considering how many of them left because of how often he would say your name when he wasn’t being careful, it was probably for the best. Part of him wonders if any of them ever figured out they were stand-ins for you, the other part worries that he doesn't feel particularly guilty even if they did. 

But these worries quickly die as he looks down on your beautiful face. 

He liked seeing you so sleepy, those early months, it’s when you were most honest he thinks. Too tired to think too hard about anything save for the feelings he knows he brings out in you. Just awake enough to know what you’re doing and more importantly to know how to enjoy yourself. When you’re soft and pliable just the way he likes you, but just as ravenous and willful as any wildcat to really make him work up an appetite. 

He lifts the covers off of the both of you and he gets to see how the hem of your baby doll had ridden up well past your hips, and he licks his lips seeing his breakfast. 

He knows that your body wanted him before your mind did. That on some deeper level you wanted him, long before you could think so, let alone admit it. And he sees it in these moments as you’re still dead asleep but you squirm under his touch. Breathy sighs fall from your plush lips as he lazily brushes his fingers along your inner thighs  

He wonders what you dream about these days. You once told him how dreams can have any meaning you assign them to have, and it’s within his power to decide. 

He once told Priscilla that he was “all outta dreams,” and he could safely say he feels the same way with you. Before those words meant how he felt hopeless in such a bleak situation, but now they mean the utter contentment he feels everyday when he’s with you. 

Something you gave him, and in spite of all that he’s done to get you here, he will happily spend the rest of his days paying you back. You’ve helped him in ways you probably couldn’t imagine, as now, he wants for nothing but you anymore. 

And when his hand finally reaches into that warm piece of heaven between your legs, there is no hiding the way he makes you feel. You squirm under his touch, not having even been anywhere close to waking up. He hopes that he now occupies your dream world now as you have done since he’s met you. 

Your eyes don’t immediately shoot open, but you jump a little as he starts to drag you back to the waking world. With a half-lidded unfocused stare, you’re all lazy smiles and breathy moans as you buck your hips against his hand all the while your ass rocks against him, stirring up little Elvis from his slumber. He wonders if you believe you’re still dreaming, after all in his mind everyday with you feels like one. 

You’ve become so compliant since you left your job for him. You don’t gotta worry about no office to be at or other patients you need to see. You don’t mind being seen with him out and about anymore. You especially don’t mind the marks he leaves on you, which is a good thing especially now as he’s in a mood to mark you where he can today. 

But you, in your half-asleep state, apparently have other plans. He feels as you blindly reach between your legs to grab a hold of him, catching him off-guard slightly as he starts to feels his cock part your folds. Then without a word of warning you close your thighs, and it’s like a punch to the gut it feels so good. You’re warm as all get out, and your thighs are still slick from last night, but the major difference between this and your little love cavern is your teasing fingers that gently bring the very tip of him up to continuously nudge at your clit. 

It’s enough to drive any man insane. 

It truly takes everything within him to pull away from you, and from the needy little whine you give, you feel the same. He turns you around and puts you right to straddle his lap. Your head lolls a bit at the swift motion, not entirely awake, but you practically jolt awake when he grabs your behind. 

“Now why you gotta go teasin’ like that Mama,” he growls relishing in the feel of your ass beneath his fingers. He wonders how hard he would need to squeeze to leave a couple marks down there. 

“‘M sorry daddy,” you mewl unconvincingly, lowering yourself to kiss him, something you’re no longer scared to initiate. A sharp slap on your ass has you realizing he meant business right now. But still you wait for him to tell you what to do. 

He’s taught you well.

“Well now you gotta fix it Sweetheart,” he purrs, and you shudder as his thumbs glide up your inner thighs, . “Can’t have your daddy goin’ out there lookin’ like this now can we?”

You shake your head no and the desire to just bend you over and take you like an animal grew but he wanted you to finish what you started. Granted you may not have started this specifically this morning but there ain’t no getting around the fact that this all started with you. 

He bites his lip to really focus on you in that moment; that little contented sigh that would fall from your lips feeling the fat head of his cock brush up against your eager clit, before turning into a lazy smile, as you slowly but surely guide him to that place he loves so much. That filthy moan that falls from your lips as he finally begins the descent into your entrance, before it turns into a needy little whine as he slowly retracts his hips and before he suddenly slams them back into you full force. 

That little wiggle your ass does as you give a breathy “daddy” is all the encouragement he needs before he presses upward. One hand threads through his own right on your hip, while the other . The whiny little noises you make each time he even nudges that precious little spot you bashfully admitted only he was ever able to reach. 

The material of your nightie by now has fully slipped off your shoulders, now leaving it only as a useless ring of fabric around your waist. You don’t seem to mind a single bit as you eagerly bounce up and down his cock, your gorgeous tits on full display and, to his chagrin, offensively clear of any bruises. In fact a quick once over of your body shows that the marks he’s left on you before were already healing up. 

He’s really gotta do something about that soon. Afterall for as smart as you can be, you’re often liable to forgetting who you belong to. 

But for as tempting as your nipples can be, he actively has to stave off his own desires, just to fully appreciate the image before him. That of the good doctor fucking herself stupid on his cock as she shamelessly licks her own juices right off his fingers, and begs for more from her daddy while the early morning rays give an almost angelic appearance. But that image of purity is swiftly done away with as he reaches around you and with his still wet fingers he lightly presses on that tight ring of muscle you’re far too demure to ever ask him about but he knew you loved when he did this. And with tears in your eyes and unrestrained cries flying from your lips, you seemingly fall apart and your walls clamp down on him like a vice.

Truly there ain’t ever gonna be a more perfect woman, he thinks as feels euphoria rocket through him and he proceeds to paint your inner walls white. Your hips stutter as you try to catch your breath, still quivering through some aftershocks, and you try to catch yourself on your hand from fully collapsing into him. Well he ain’t having none of that, and he wraps his arms around you to bring you as close as possible to him, never wanting to let you go.

Though the absolute best part for him is that you no longer get that left over guilty look afterward. The shy act was cute the first few months but as time went on it lost its appeal and he wished you would stop treating him like something you had to feel ashamed of. But now when you open your eyes to look at him all he sees are equal parts adoration and hunger. And it’s all for him.

Thanks to you he’s gotten far better in terms of communicating what he wants from people and it’s probably the worst kept secret in all of Graceland how much he wants and needs you at any given moment. You're able to ignite him in ways no girl has ever been able to do, and he doubts there will ever be another like you.

Though he thinks he most especially loves mornings like these because it’s all the proof he needs that that old job of yours wasn’t worth all the trouble it was causing in your head. After all, how can anything that doesn’t hurt no one and makes you feel this good be bad?

He ain’t one to talk though, he remembers those early months when he did try to fight off his feelings for you.

It’s wild to think he ever had doubts about therapy. Dr. Wilson was fine so far in that he was able to help him through his addiction without making him feel awful about it while also helping him realize that there was a lot more going on in his need for the drugs that he wasn’t even aware of. He was always able to remain coolly neutral no matter what ever fucked up thing the rockstar had told him. Elvis got the sense that he had been at this so long and with so many different celebrities that hardly anything phased him at this point. Which was good in a way, didn’t make him feel so outta place there but it also felt so…impersonal. As though the person that came right before him or right after him would get the same advice and insights as he did. 

Overall he was fine in terms of easing him into therapy and being able to express his thoughts and feelings with someone without having to be afraid of being judged. But he will admit that Wilson did do right by him by recommending you in the first place. 

He still remembers that day, there was an odd sense of euphoria to not only have a name for what he had but also that there were specialists who could handle this sort of thing professionally. But at the same time it clashed with his hope of his life going back to the way it was any time soon.

“Co-dependency is a relatively new term within the psychology community, so there aren’t many who are equipped to handle this condition.” Wilson says, eyes firmly on his notes. “But you’re in luck as I believe there is a specialist located in the Memphis area last I checked.”

“Doc, you sure I even need this?” he would question, as he fidgeted with the sleeve of his robe, the material having become a tad bit scratchier than when he had arrived. “I mean I don’t, even get cravin’s for them pills no more.” 

“Yes Elvis, we’ve treated the more overt and life-threatening symptoms of your addiction, but we’ve yet to truly tap into the underlying cause. Without doing that you would be liable to fall right back into old habits all over again. Maybe not with the pills, but some other vice.” he says calmly. “It’s why we enforce rules as to moderation within the facility as oftentimes getting rid of one addiction will lead to seeking solace in another. You’ve done better than most in abstaining from the more overt addictions and in order to keep up with this, I think it would be best if you continue treatment with Dr. Y/L/N.”

Elvis has a long sigh at this but he does genuinely want to get better, yet he still holds doubt as to whether more of this is necessary. He thinks at best you will be able to show him what to look out for in people that could take advantage of him again and you could go your separate ways after a few sessions. After all he did at least want to show Priscilla that he was actually making an effort to get better, and what better way than to keep going to therapy. 

He hesitated a bit during that first call, when he found out you were a woman. He knows it’s a whole new era and women can work outside the home if they want and all that, but he still wasn’t too sure about it. And he ain’t never met a woman who called herself a doctor, so there was that. 

But he also knew himself well enough to know that any excuse he could get to get out of going he would take, and having to drive all the way from Memphis to Nashville was a pretty good one. Besides women are naturally good with talking and feelings and shit, so it kinda makes sense in a way to see a woman about this kind of stuff. So it was worth a shot. 

That all changed when he met you in person for the first time. What he almost immediately noticed about you was how warm your eyes were. Not necessarily in color, but how you looked genuinely happy to see him. And not just in the way he’s used to from women who want him, but more… something he can’t quite put his finger on. But when you looked at him for the first time he felt as though he was being seen as Elvis, not just as The Elvis Presely. 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Presley, it’s nice to meet you.” You said to him with a friendly smile on your face and a firm handshake.

“Same here, Dr. Y/L/N,” he would say, as all of his doubts seemed to melt away. You were beautiful in a way he wasn’t used to, all professional and button-upped like a secretary yet also comforting and very approachable like a librarian. It was an odd combination no doubt but you pulled it off well. 

There’s something about you that just puts his mind at ease, not only as you talk but as you listen. He felt like he was being heard instead of just listened to, which isn’t something he ever realized was lacking in his life. When you sat there you looked as though you could listen to him talk for hours, not the slightest bit of impatience to be seen. And the way you looked at him as he talked, as much as you may have been trying to hide it, he saw that you felt what he felt when talking about these things, his joy in performing, his sadness over the state of his family, his anger at Colonel. 

That was another thing, the little tidbits of advice you gave, that in retrospect seem so obvious, but hearing it from you that Parker didn't have any control over him anymore and he didn’t have to call him something that made it look like that. It’s hard to believe you're younger than him and yet so much wiser.

There was one thing you said to him toward the end of that first session and you were talking about his goals overall. 

“There’s a lotta things I want Doc,” he says. “I want my family back. I want to get back with ‘Cilla. I want to get back into music and perform again. I… want to know what to look out for so I don’t make the same mistake again.”

That last one apparently peaks your interest, as you say with a gentle smile on your lips, “Mr. Presley, many people when they walk into my office expect to be given answers as to their conditions or the issues ongoing in their lives. But the reality is that I don’t have the answers but what I can do is act as a guide so that you may be able to find what you may be looking for in a healthy and effective manner.” 

”I-I think I see what you’re sayin’ Doc,” he says. “A-and you can call me Elvis,” he states, ifa bit shyer this time around.

“Of course Elvis,” you say with a smile radiating warmth. “Now, as we’re getting towards the end of our session, I would like to express my goals for you.” 

He’s very curious as to what you have to say, so he leans forward eager to listen.

“Elvis, contrary to what it may sound like, my goal is not to espouse total self-reliance and to never trust anyone again. Nor is it for you to simply find ‘better’ people to rely on totally,” you say. “My goal for you, as it is for all of my patients, is to trust yourself most of all to know what’s best for you. Good or bad, regardless of another's opinions, these are your choices to make.” 

Those are simple words but they have a monumental impact on his perspective of things. And for the first time in a long time he looks at you and sees someone he can trust to do right by him. 

And now the first thing he’s gonna trust himself about, it’s that you’re gonna be good for him overall.

It was a bit difficult to get into the whole routine of seeing you, especially as he didn’t want certain people in his circle knowing that he was even still going to therapy. Not even necessarily because he feared it would somehow get back to the papers but because most of them were all under the same belief that therapy was just a crock of shit and all he needed to do was man up. So he just simply didn’t bring it up to them specifically and let only a few people really know what he was doing. And only they know just so they can sufficiently cover his ass when he’s out with you. 

None of them seemed to mind his scheduled “alone times” too much since he always came back and nothing newsworthy would happen so they let him be. 

Over the next few weeks he found himself looking forward to sessions with you. He’s taking his health seriously, he’s getting to see Lisa more and more, he’s sleeping better, everything in his life is slowly but surely improving thanks to you. Though the better sleep had its flaws as he had been having some weird dreams for awhile. Not so much nightmares, but they definitely left him with some odd feelings in the morning. 

They almost always started off the same way, he was back on that couch in Dr. Wilson’s office and the way he was being spoken to, it felt less like therapy and more like an interrogation. He would never remember what he was being asked, but the longer it went on the worse he would feel. 

And then you walk into the office and Wilson disappears. In the beginning you would simply take Wilson’s seat, and he feels himself start to relax. Something about you just made it easy to do so. You could even be asking the same questions Wilson was asking, but you’re far gentler in your delivery, and it helps ease the answers out.

A lot of his dreams have been going this way but recently you’ve been getting closer and closer, and now you sit beside him on the sofa. You would rub his back, play with his hair and even sometimes hold his hand all the while listening to what he had to say. Which then progressed to him even laying his head in your lap.

He vividly remembers how he would nuzzle into your chest as you continuously ran your nails through his hair. Neither of you speak but he can’t recall ever feeling so at peace than in those imaginary moments with you. 

Of course there were also less than wholesome dreams where he the ones where you ride him right into the couch or he takes you on your desk. Though arguably the most memorable had to be when he rested his head on your lap as he’d done in his dreams a million times before and you would slowly unbutton your blouse. 

Undoubtedly one of the most fucked up things he’s ever dreamt as you proceeded to jerk him off as he sucked on those gorgeous tits of yours. But still he couldn’t get out of his head that look of utter adoration in your eyes as you threaded your fingers in his hair and whispered how he was a good boy.

He woke up that morning needing to literally peel his pants off of him. 

He’s not an idiot. He has a daughter and so he knows what that could only look like from the outside. He has a pretty good idea what it may mean, seeing you in such a motherly role, but he’s also seen Psycho and knows he’s far from dressing up as his Mama to stab women in the shower. So really it doesn’t mean anything.

“Doc?” he asks, and you look up from your notes. He knows he should probably bring up the dreams, as you’ll definitely have something to say about it. But seeing you in that Turtleneck that made your tits look phenomenal made his brain short circuit a bit, and he worries even hinting at anything like this may scare you off and have you believing he’s a Norman Bates type. So instead he asks, “Why don’t you got one a them couches?”

Your brow furrows at that. “A… fainting couch?” You ask tentatively.

“That’s the one,” he snaps his fingers. “Why don’tcha got one of those?”

“Oh, well…” you say, pausing to bite your lip, looking for the right words. This simple act causes him to swallow hard, and he prays you don’t notice as you continue. “Given the patients I work with, I find that keeping us on the same level is far more beneficial than the alternative. It acts as a good reminder that we’re equals in this environment,” you explain with a gentle smile.

“Same level huh?” he questions. “So if I sat down on the floor you would follow?”

“If that’s where you feel most comfortable,” you say amused.

He doesn’t exactly know why, but part of his brain took that as a challenge, while the other part wanted to really test as to whether or not you would follow through. In either case he gets off his chair only to lie flat on his back on the shag carpet of your office. He looks back up and sees you raise an eyebrow at his antics, with a look of “seriously?” on your face. There is a bit of a stare down before you let out a small defeated sigh before you make motions to follow suit. 

“Don’t say I’m not a woman of my word,” you would explain as you lay down on the floor parallel to him, though the table kept a good distance between the two of you. Not an easy feat for you considering you were wearing a skirt that day, but in spite of that you were somehow able to make the act look as dignified as possible. Though that doesn’t prevent a brief but very dangerous image of you hiking up your skirt and taking a seat over his face. 

Woah… Where did that come from? he would ask himself as he ripped his eyes away from you and looked up at the ceiling. 

“Comfortable?” Both real and fantasy you would question. 

“Very,” he would answer, lying only slightly.

You give a mirthful smile before you get right back to business. “Now that we’re down here, I would like to discuss some of your risk-taking behavior upon your return from Germany,” 

“I wouldn’t say layin’ down on the floor is risky,” he quips. He’s trying hard to not focus on the gap that’s appeared between the buttons of your shirt nor the way that your notebook keeps your skirt from sliding down further. But at the same time focusing on your face right now feels dangerous for some reason he can’t quite place.

Something blooms in his chest when he hears you huff in amusement at him. “I’ll admit not my most graceful of transitions, but my point still stands. When you look back on your time after your return stateside, do you believe you were doing things that were considered far more risky?”

“I mean… I guess,” he would admit. “Aside from the drugs, nothin’ too wild, really. Just pushin’ each other down… and drivin’ around real fast… and shootin’ fireworks at each other… I see what your sayin’.” It’s funny that he only now realizes just by talking to you about them. 

“And nobody ever protested to you doing these things?” 

“Well my daddy did at first, but then stopped once he figured I wouldn’t stop. Most times it was The Colo-shit! Parker… he was the one who always made big stink ‘bout what I was doin’ if it was dangerous or made me look bad.” 

You bring your pen to your mouth, simply resting it on your lips, mulling over his words before you say, “Elvis correct me if I’m wrong, but it sounds to me that Parker occupied a very… parental role in your life?”

“I guess,” he says, unsure of it until a long dormant memory comes barreling to mind as he recalls his own words to that man from what felt a lifetime ago. “I even said as much to him at my own Mama’s funeral.” He says covering his eyes, and taking a deep breath, willing no tears to fall right in front of you. “I feel like such a fool.”

And then he feels something on his palm. He looks to his side to see that your hand now holds his. It’s such a simple gesture, one that anybody could have done, but coming from you it feels like everything.

“Elvis…” you start off slowly, your thumb rubbing soothing lines onto the back of his hand. “Grief is a terrible thing to experience. It can knock out your knees and snatch the breath right out of your lungs. And it’s certainly not uncommon for people like that to take advantage of those in such a vulnerable position.” you say in your most soothing voice. 

“Don’t think less of yourself for staying as long as you did. Instead I ask you to think of it as you left when you were ready to do so.”

He has to pause to contemplate your words for a second there, because it’s such a simple twist of perspective but it seems to make all the difference as he feels a long present weight of guilt lift. “Yeah… yeah you’re right,” he says, his chest filling with a sense of warmth he hadn’t realized he’s been missing for a while now. “I-I took all of the rat bastards shit for years, because I could take it… a-and I left when I didn’t want to do that no more.” 

“Exactly,” you say, slipping out of his grasp and giving a friendly pat on his hands as you return to your side of the table. 

The rest of the session is pretty light, all things considered, talking about Music, something he can do at literally any given moment and he left your office that day with a newfound appreciation for women’s office wear. He gets the sense that it’s very intentional on your part. The way you can steer a conversation is so fucking impressive and it served you well when you were dodging something.

But he eventually learned your ways. And he was able to get you to open up about yourself like when you learned his favorite hero growing up was Captain Marvel Jr. and you confided in him your favorite was Wonder Woman, and how you learned to appreciate her even more when you learned she was created by a Psychologist. Or when he told you about his sleep troubles and you taught him your trick to falling asleep was to eat Pancakes, something that came as a bit of a routine from your waitressing days since that was your usual order at the end of your shift. Little things that made you more than just his shrink to him. 

He swears he didn’t realize what he was doing at first, and it wasn’t until Jerry pointed it out to him that same night. He and the rest were at some show that he doesn’t really remember, and he sees you walk past the table he was at. He’s so caught off guard that he even turns his head fully around as you walk away.

Jerry knows about his therapy and tends to cover for him when he goes to see you, but has never actually met you, so it surprised him when Jerry asked if he wanted him to go get you for him. 

He’s glad for the low lighting of this place as he doubts he would otherwise be able to hide his inflamed face right now. “What? No… No. Wh-why’d ya’ think I want her?”

“Well she’s your type ain’t she?” he asks, glancing at the bar behind Elvis’ shoulder where you’re standing. Elvis is trying hard not to look back because the dress you’re wearing is far more revealing than he’s ever seen you wear, and he doubts if he keeps looking he’ll be able to stop, still that question eats at him. 

“The hell are you on Jer?” 

“EP, you’re a lot a things,” Jerry says as he gets up, patting him on the back. “Subtle ain’t one a them.” 

He knows one more word and Jerry will stop and not approach you, but something stops him from doing so. He figures you’re going to say no anyway, as you made it clear in your first session that you were never going to approach a patient in public, and that’ll be the end of that. Still the thought of you saying no does leave a sour taste in his mouth that the whiskey can’t quite chase away. He steals a glance over his shoulder and with the better lighting at the bar he realizes that that girl ain’t you. Her nose is a different shape, hair color is not quite right in the new light, and this girl doesn’t have quite the same dignified posture that you’ve got.

He shakes his head at these thoughts. It’s ridiculous that he even thought that was you for even a second. You work everyday and he doubts this would be your scene on a Thursday night. He imagines you would be in bed by now or at least settling by this time. You have the look of a good girl who reads at night to fall asleep and he can just about picture the way you would look lounging against a headboard that looks suspiciously familiar. This line of thought leads to him idly wondering what you wear to bed at night, which is quickly broken when Jerry approaches with the girl. 

The girl has a face-splitting grin and in her eyes, he finds that star-struck look he’s seen in hundreds of other women's eyes before her. Despite her eyes being similar in color he can’t help but be reminded of the stark difference in your eyes when he met you for the first time. She’s seeing a god where you saw a man.

Still he tries to give the girl, Jackie, a fair shake, but the longer the night goes on the more he has to pick apart. Her voice is a little too high-pitched to be yours. Her make-up, not as pristine as yours usually is. Even her nails seem to annoy him as they are a little longer than how you usually keep them, and they only really drew his attention while she was drumming them along the table as he spoke. The girl is practically shaking in her seat, itching to get out of here with him. 

Well at least this one knows what she wants, he thinks to himself as he asks if she would mind a more quiet place to talk. 

It’s wrong on so many levels what he’s doing, and he recognizes that as he puts his arm around her shoulders and leads her out of the place. Jane gushes about how big of a fan she’s been since she was a kid and how this is a dream come true. All Elvis could really focus on is if he squints just hard enough he can almost see you saying that to him, and that’s just enough to get him going, as he buries his face into the girl's neck, and he hears sweet moans he wishes came from you. 

Jenna was gone come morning, and Elvis is glad for that small mercy. And in the early morning rays, Elvis is left alone with his thoughts, and he gets to truly think about the women he’s been with recently. He thinks of Shannon who drew his eye when he got a whiff of her perfume, and it happened to be the same one he knows you’ve worn before, and he would bury his face in her neck as he pounded into her. Amy whose hair was almost the exact same color as yours and whom he really only liked taking from the behind without truly looking at her face. Carol whose voice sounded eerily close to yours and in the dark he was able to imagine someone else entirely as she moaned his name over and over again. And finally there was Jamie who was almost the spitting image of you save for a few things here and there.

It’s nothing, he tries to lie to himself. 

It doesn’t matter.

They don’t matter. 

They shouldn’t matter really, they were all gone before the morning came, so obviously none of them weren’t interested in anything serious. Which is good…

…Right?

It fucks with his head something fierce, that he ends up bringing it up the next time he sees you. “I think I lost my way with women.” he would say as soon as he sat down, before you even got a chance to crack open your little notebook. 

You quickly put the pen between your lips, in that cute way he likes, to hold while you open your notebook, and ask “in what regard Elvis?” This has got to be a sign as to how comfortable he’s gotten with you. He would never have dared to talk about something like this with anyone else, not so much because he feared that he would be laughed at, but because more than likely he would be plastered with denials and reassurances as to how much of a ladies man he still is, without ever even getting into detail why he felt like that. 

Still he finds himself clamming up, wishing to take the words back, shame burning in his belly over these thoughts. You were having none of it, as you put down your notebook and pen on the table between the two of you and lean forward. “Elvis you can talk about this with me,” you coax in your softest voice, something he’s come to expect look forward to. 

He smiles at this as he’s come to appreciate this about you. You get right to work and listen as he expresses his fears about his romantic life. You’re a great listener, though he supposes that comes with the job, but in the way you move and watch him, he never doubts that you are. You’re always watching him, you rarely if ever glance at the clock, and nothing about your body language ever says that you’re getting tired of hearing him talk. Even Wilson had that annoying leg bounce thing toward the end of sessions with him. 

The only thing he could really complain about was how often you touched your lips while listening. Whether it was simply resting a fist to your mouth or pinching your bottom lip, you’re almost always doing something of the like when you’re concentrating he’s noticed. He doubts you’re doing it on purpose, but he still finds it very distracting. That being said he was never about to tell you to stop. 

“Elvis as I understand this dilemma you’re having,” you say. “You’re worried that the only type of women you attract these days are women who are not seeking long-term relationships.” 

“I don’t know Doc, it might be nothin’,” he says, still trying to downplay how uncomfortable the concept makes him. “

“If it bothers you Elvis, then it’s not nothing,” you gently encourage. “People thrive on connections to one another, and I’m glad to see that you’re taking steps to establish new connections after all that you’ve faced before. Perhaps these women aren’t all opposed to a romantic relationship, but they may perhaps be under the impression that you are, given your fame.” 

“So my reputations workin’ against me on this,” he asks solemnly. 

“In a sense, yes. Reputation is a bit of a funny thing like that,” you say. “It’s not so much your actions that make it up, but other’s perceptions of said actions. And if you feel you’re ready to embark on a new long-term relationship, then I would encourage you to start on a solid foundation of honesty.”

“What do you mean? Tell them I’m lookin’ to get married again?”

This gets a small huff of laughter out of you, “Perhaps not that strong in the beginning,” you say. “But something along the lines of… ‘when can we meet up again?’ just a little something like that to establish that you are at the very least interested in a long-term relationship.”

“Doc, would you wanna be with me,” he says, and he would be lying if he says he didn’t enjoy the way your eyes practically bugged out of your head before he recovered with a “or someone with a reputation like me?”

You try to pass off your sigh of relief as simply a deep breath before you answer with, “I personally try not to let others' perceptions of potential partners affect my own feelings toward them. And I reassure you that there are others of the same mind and should you signal that you want something more… permanent, you’ll find someone.” you say with a reassuring smile on your face. “While we’re still on this topic as to your romantic life…” you trail off slightly. “You stated one of your goals in therapy was to rekindle your relationship with your Ex-Wife. Is she the one you’re talking about trying to have a relationship with?”

“... no,” he sighs, as he eyes you sitting directly across from him. “I-I love her and all but… I-I don’t know if I want her in the same way I did before. And… I-I think I want someone else.” He thinks this is the first time he’s been able to say this out loud, but it admittedly does feel like a weight lifted off his shoulders as he admits to it. You give a soft, reassuring smile at his words, and while he knows that it’s probably because you’re happy to see him moving forward with his life, a small part of him wants to believe it’s because you want him to be available.

“I understand, Elvis,” you reassure him. “And rest assured that should you at any point choose otherwise you’re, of course, free to do so.”

He leaves later on reassured in his worth as a partner, but the thought that you had been approached by men before leaves an otherwise good meeting with a sour note. That’s the first time he realizes that you have a life outside of your office and somehow worse, you have other patients you talk to. It’s like seeing a teacher at a grocery store and realizing they don’t live at school.

He knows it ain’t right to feel this way, that you’re a person too, who has more to offer than just what you do for your job. But he can’t help the way he feels. Saddest part is the person he would go to talk about these feelings with is the person he has to talk about. 

And so rather than actually dealing with it, head on he tried to satisfy these feelings for you in other ways, but he promised himself he would never act on them. 

At least… not yet.

It was working for a time, he would see you twice a week, he would bear his soul to you alone, and slowly but surely you also opened up to him as well. There were small comments here and there about simple preferences which eventually gave way to you talking a bit about your time and school and your friends, and to his relief you never brought up any sort of boyfriend. But outside of your office he accepted that he did in fact have a “type” and most of his boys made it their mission to find girls that look even a little bit like you. 

And yet the more he saw you, the more he fell for you. 

After the wine incident he knew he couldn’t deny himself what he wanted anymore and he gradually started to lay the groundwork in order to make that happen. 

When he would casually slip in pet names for you, kiss the back of your hand, or even when he would linger a little too long after a session you never said anything about it. And he always took that as an opportunity to go further and further each time. 

He even started reading up on Psychology, and to his surprise some of it was down right fascinating, especially learning how it stems from Physiology meeting Philosophy. Sure the dog studies and the Milgram experiment ended up being very useful to him later on, but he does believe Freud was onto something there. But he can’t wrap his head around why you tend to get very skittish when you do on occasion bring up his Mama.

He likes to think she would’ve liked you very much for how smart and responsible you are. She maybe wouldn’t have loved the whole working outside of home thing, but he eventually fixed that. 

The same way he taught himself to play music was the same way  he got you to fall in love with him: laser-sharp focus and unwavering persistence.

But then you had to go and almost throw that all away. You spat in the face of his gift and tried to reprimand him for doing a nice thing for you. So he had to play it cool for a while after that. You seemed to retreat a bit from him, but you were no less warm and caring for him. You even stopped really remarking when he would “accidentally” bump into you when you’re out and about. 

But no dice the next time he tried. It was only as Jerry returned with a guilty look on his face did he realize his mistake in A. sending someone else and B. not framing it as a part of his therapy, which he knows you wouldn’t have refused. 

“EP…” Jerry says lightly. “Y-your shrink…”

“What ‘bout her Jerry,” Elvis asks in no mood after your refusal.  

“I-I noticed that she-she kinda looks like some a the girls you been seein’,” he swallows a bit. Seemingly praying to god he’s wrong about this.

“No,” the rockstar says simply, not really caring to beat around the bush anymore, and Jerry seems almost relieved until he continues. “They look like her,” and for as callous as it sounds he can’t even muster an ounce of sympathy for them, as though it’s their fault that they’re not you. But the reality is, none of them could hold a candle to you, and they only matter so far in preventing him from getting too frustrated with how slow you're taking things. 

“Elvis… I-I don’t think it-it’s such a good idea to get so… involved with your doctor again,” Jerry would say tentatively, unsure how he would react. 

“Jerry,” he says, trying to control his temper, and remembering those breathing exercises you went over with him. “I think my business is my business.”

“I-I know but-”

“But nothin’ Jerry!” he yells. “Y’all had fuck all to say when I was runnin’ myself in the grave! And now that I’m gettin back on track, now you wanna step in?!” Jerry gaped at him, before quickly shutting his mouth, a guilty look taking over his face as he looked down at the ground, having nothing to say. “Get the fuck outta my face Jerry.”

Jerry and the rest that knew about you since the beginning would eventually come around on you, seeing hat you did for him and how much he needed you. It served him all the better later on. Though now that all feels like ancient history now, especially now that you’re together in private, in public, and pretty soon under the eyes of the lord.

As far as you know Elvis didn’t want to acknowledge the “blackmail” and simply announced your engagement. He didn’t even want to acknowledge Parker, as that would imply there’s anything wrong with your relationship that he could have exploited.

The way he tells the story is that a couple months after rehab, he was out and about in Memphis when you caught his eye from across the room. He described it as nothing short of love at first sight, but the problem was he had no idea how to approach a woman as sophisticated as you. It was made all the worse when he did approach and you introduced yourself as Dr. Y/L/N, you weren’t so awestruck by him, and in fact talked to him like a normal person. He was so caught off guard that when you had revealed that you were a therapist he jumped at the chance and said he had been looking for one in the area after rehab and you had given him your business card.

How the next few months were about how you became his therapist, and how he was more or less scheming to sweep you off your feet the moment he could. How you tried your best to keep things professional until you could no longer deny your feelings nor could he deny his. None of which was a lie, but he did have to clean up the story for the reporters (didn’t stop Penthouse from begging for the dirtier details).

The story was simple, almost the ideal story of the recovery of a troubled man and how it was the love of a good woman that helped him heal from all of it (Say what you will, he knows you’ve loved him longer than you’re willing to admit). And the people ate it up. 

Everybody could see how good you were for him, how he’s back and better than ever because of your efforts. 

He wishes you wouldn’t focus so much on the others who want to make this out as a bad thing for either of you. They don’t know you and they especially don't know him, so how can they judge what either of you do. That board of therapists may say that the two of you being together is wrong, and for a time you may even have believed that but he knows in his heart of hearts that this was meant to be. 

Afterall you yourself showed him how other people’s perceptions of you shouldn’t affect your own perception of yourself. 

As far as days in Graceland it’s a pretty typical and quiet one, Mary makes the two of you breakfast, you both practice tai chi while it’s still early, you sit with him at the piano as he worked on music, and later he would bend you over the piano so you could make some music for him, you have lunch. It’s looking to be a perfect day. 

You’re never too far from him anymore but he doesn’t think he’ll ever have enough of you. He wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Sometime after lunch, Jerry comes around with those books you ordered. As much as you tried to hide it at first, he could see you were excited for the world tour. Studying up on the history of practically every city he was going to be performing in, trying to learn a couple languages, sharing almost everything with him. 

You look so in your element when you’re reading, and he can’t help but intrude and make his dreams into a reality. You're startled at first as he rests his head in your lap, but you quickly adjust and ease into the new position.

He’s close to purring with the way you run your nails along his scalp, so familiar and comforting a gesture that it’s not long before his eyelids go heavy and he finds himself drifting off to sleep with a smile on his face. 

With you around, sleep is coming easier and easier these days. You worry about this, fearing that he would become too dependent on you for sleep. 

He can’t help it that you’re such a dependable person. 

He would wake up later, only the slightest bit distressed that you were gone, but he knows that you wouldn’t have gone too far. And he didn’t have to look too hard to find you, as you stepped out of your dressing room, and sees you wearing something very familiar.

He doesn’t think he'll ever forget that night.

He thought at the time that nothing could happen between you two. He had accepted that at first, tried to content himself to having you in his life in whatever way he could, even if only platonically. He admits he may have stalled some days, especially the sessions after you would remark how far he’s come in therapy, all in order to drag out his time with you. 

It truly felt like the stars had aligned for the both of you that night. He wasn’t really one for fancy places like this, any other day he would have taken a cheap little diner, but he had been craving a real good steak for a while and figured some fancy place like this would be his best bet. Imagine his surprise when he just idly glanced down at the reservation book and saw your name.

He had been hoping to build something between the two of you outside of your office for a while by that point, but that day you just so happened to have ended up at the same restaurant as him. This just solidified in his head that the two of you were meant to be, because it couldn’t be just a coincidence that the two of you ended up at the same place that night. He gathered up the nerve to approach you that night, thinking about what you said as to how you would like to be approached by a man, ready to put himself out there. 

His breath hitches as he sees the little white dress you’re wearing and his palms sweat a bit when he approaches. Overall he feels like a kid trying to ask the prettiest girl for a dance, terrifying yet exhilarating all the same.

“Dr. Y/L/N, funny meeting you here,” Elvis would say in his best attempt to sound casual. 

“Mr. Presley, how are you?” you would say, surprise evident in your eyes but the small smile on your face genuine as any. 

“I’m doin’ just fine.” 

“That’s good to hear. I’m glad.”

“Are you here alone?” he gently probes, trying to figure out a way to get the rest to leave the table if he can get you to join him. 

“No, my date is just in the restroom.” you say pointing in the general direction of the bathroom.

Something almost akin to betrayal flashes through him in that moment, but he quickly tries to stamp it down as even he realizes that he had no right to feel that way. “Well, have a good night.” he says, trying to be as amiable as possible. 

“You too,” you say with an uneasy look in your eyes. 

Gorgeous girl like her, it’d be crazy for her not to have a date, he thinks, sitting back down with his buddies. Not a single one of them acknowledges what just happened and somehow it feels all the worse. Still it doesn’t sit right with him, the idea of you being out of your office and looking so beautiful and only to waste it on some undeserving mook. 

But… in all the months he’s been seeing you, he ain’t ever seen a ring on your finger, so he doubts it’s that serious. He can’t see your table, which he’s thankful for, because it at least removes the temptation to keep looking your way. But with how sparsely populated the restaurant is at this point he can just barely make out your voice, and he can clearly hear your laugh. It’s such a beautiful thing to hear, and it takes him fully out of the conversation he’s having with Sonny, which pretty much makes all of them take notice of how weird he’s acting but they won’t say anything about it. 

But quickly bitterness takes over in his mouth when he hears the accompanying chuckle from your faceless companion. Especially when he’s only ever awarded small huffs of amusement in your office while that motherfucker can get you to laugh like that.

… He really shouldn’t be thinking like this… 

It practically spits in the face of all you’ve been doing for him to go back to his old jealous ways. He drinks some of the wine to calm himself down and earnestly tries to go back to the talk he was having. 

He does try, but by the third glass in, he becomes a bit distracted by the wine. He’s not usually much of a fan of the stuff, but even he can appreciate a good bottle when he has it. Not too sweet but just enough to mask the burn of alcohol, while pairing well with his steak.

All he’s really thinking at that moment is how much you would probably appreciate it too. So he flags down the stuffy waiter and insists that a similar bottle be brought to your table, on him of course. 

He doesn’t really think too much of it, and later as Charlie’s doing his best impression of Parker to a host of hoots and hollers from the rest, does the waiter return. “Your friends send their thanks for the wine,” he says simply walking away. 

So you took it… he finds it very interesting. 

If there was nothing there, you could have said no and he would’ve put it behind him. But you accepted the wine… there had to be something more to it. Especially since you were on a “date” with another man, and what woman accepts a drink from another man if she wasn’t at the very least interested. 

As he leaves, there is a part of him that aches leaving you behind, especially with another man, and the only solace he takes is that you accepting that bottle of wine had to mean something. 

His home feels achingly empty as he walks in, even as he’s surrounded by his buddies. He’s trying to follow your advice with the whole set sleep schedule thing so it’s only midnight by the time he walks through his front door. 

Even if come Monday you flat out reject him, he tries to content himself to have you just be his therapist. How maybe even after you graduate him out you can still continue being friends outside of your office and he won’t have to lose you as well.

Still all of that rings hollow that night as he recalls furiously jerking himself off in his bed, tears streaming down his face and your name on his lips, as he thought of you in that dress. What’s worse is that the fantasy he has of you is not even necessarily erotic, and by most standards, it’s practically mundane. But it’s precisely because of how normal it is that it feels so foreign yet nonetheless attractive to him, and thus far more dangerous than any wet dream he’s had of you before. 

He imagines bringing you to Graceland from the restaurant. How you would strip yourself of that dress, effortlessly seductive as you swap it for a nightie, and how you would get a little bashful as you notice him staring before crawling into bed beside him. But unlike other dreams he has of you, you simply lay back and allow him to bury his face in your chest. “What’s on your mind Elvis?” you would ask him. 

He can almost feel the scrape of your nails on his scalp, as you listen to his woes. The slight rise and fall of your chest as he rests his head on it. How all of your ministrations are comforting and relaxing rather than teasing or playful, like your content to simply sit and be with him alone rather than doing anything else. Like you’re there for him, not for Elvis Presley.

He wanted that. He wanted you. 

And now he has you.

And nothing will ever take you away.

“Mmm, I remember this,” he hums to you while wrapping his arms around your waist as you put the finishing touches to your face. You preen under his attention, and wriggle a little as his fingers brush the hem of your skirt, both of you practically itching for a repeat of that first concert. 

While in general he would have preferred you wore something he gave you, he has no doubt that the dress is not gonna survive the night once you get home. 

“Where you headin’ lookin’ this good?” he asks, trying not to sound too sore about it. 

You sigh as you put down your brush, squaring your shoulders as though you’re about to step into a battlefield. “Ma’s throwing me a Bridal shower remember,” you answer. 

Yeah he does remember, but he honestly wishes you hadn’t. Though he can hardly begrudge you for being less than ecstatic about your party, as he also doesn’t want you to go but for very different reasons. Try as he might, he couldn’t justify going with you, and just the idea of you being out of reach made his stomach uneasy. His only solace in the situation was that he was able to convince your Mama to not invite any of your old college girlfriends, as the last thing he needs is for any of them to be putting ideas in your head again. 

Besides, it marks the first time in awhile since he’s gotten all of his buddies together at once, so he’s determined to enjoy the night as much as he can without you. He thinks he’s had his fill of the bachelor life, so his party ain’t nothing too crazy all things considered. 

For as much as he did clean house once he booted Parker out, there were still those in his circle he could do without personally but still served their purposes well. 

He’s made it clear he won’t stand for any of them talking any kind of nonsense about you, but that doesn’t stop them from bemoaning the “life” he’s giving up all in order to get hitched yet again. The partying, the girls, the drugs he would give up ten times over for you. 

By midnight he’s even close to calling it for the night hoping that you’ll be home soon.

For as much as they rag on him for becoming so domesticated he’s well aware of the fact that they are nonetheless happy for your presence in his life. He knows that while some of them are genuinely glad that he’s now better for his own sake, he’s all too aware that some of them only “care” because their very livelihoods depend on him.

Not you though. What you gave up when you thought you were protecting him, you proved yourself to be far more caring and loyal than anyone he’s ever met. And he rests easier knowing you’re watching out for him, even at a great cost to yourself. 

It almost makes him feel guilty for what he had to do.

Almost.

And, as though summoned, you make your way through the front door. The second you walk in, he loses interest in just about everything else in the room. You look like you just got through twelve rounds with Muhammad Ali.

He already knows you don’t got the best relationship with your folks but understands you couldn’t get out of going without raising questions. But if it went bad it saves him the trouble from having to talk you out of visiting them too often. 

Truly it makes his heart soar the way you light up a bit upon seeing him and he hopes 

And then it goes to shit. 

He sees you lazily look around the room, probably trying to figure out a tactful way to get rid of them all. But then your brow furrows, and you give the entire room a once over again, and then you seem to look intently at every single person in the room as though you’re tallying them up. And once you finish that, it only seems to distress you more. 

You’ve got that same look in your eye when you’re reading your mysteries, with your brow furrowed and your hands to your lips. He’s confused as to what may be going on in that pretty little head of yours, until he looks around and remembers that ALL of his buddies are here now.

Something that shouldn’t be if he had really handled the ones that had apparently squealed the two of you out to Parker.

Huh… you figured it out just like that, he thinks. This is honestly what he gets for choosing a smart one like you, but he can't say he’s not a little proud that you were able to do so. Besides it’s not much of a choice when it’s meant to be. 

He takes one last puff off his cigar before stamping it out into the accompanying ashtray, after all no use in trying to pretend anymore. You're cracking a case wide open in your head and he figures there ain’t no point in drawing it out for much longer. 

“Hey Charlie,” he draws out, and your eyes snap back to him, apparently terrified to be proven right. 

“Yeah EP?” he answers, always the good friend who would go along with any plan regardless of how he personally felt about it if it meant getting him back on track. 

“Why don’tcha do that voice,” he says smiling a bit as his friends goes a bit ashen at the request. “Always gets a good laugh.”

Charlie thinks he’s subtle when he steals a glance your way. He is not. 

“You sure ‘bout that EP,” he asks, nervously swallowing, his eyes begging to not have to do this. Which gets the attention of all of them, and some of them shift uncomfortably at what’s about to go down, downing the last of their drinks and nervously gathering their things hoping to make a quick getaway. The ones who don’t know are looking at Charlie anticipating a good laugh but they quickly pick up on how worried he looks and quickly follow suit, figuring nothing good would come of this. 

Elvis only has eyes for you though, morbidly curious as to how you’re going to react, the same way your eyes are firmly fixed on him, no doubt fearing that you’re right. He almost calls it off at that point, but call it what you want he believes that once this secret is over and done with, the two of you will be all the stronger for it and there will be absolutely nothing to hold you back.  

“Who am I talkin’ to?” Elvis asks Charlie all the while making full eye contact with you. Contrary to what you may believe he doesn’t in fact enjoy hurting you with these hard truths, he’s just not as skilled as you in breaking them to you in a more delicate manner.

Charlie lets out a deep, tired sigh before, without any more preamble, he says, “You’re talking to the man that gave the world Elvis Presley,” in his most perfect Parker impression. 

Your face fully falls. 

Once upon a time you had told him how sometimes people need to be guided by another to get what they wanted. And he knows for a fact that you wanted him, it was only your damn job and it’s rules that held you back. That’s where his head was at after that fucking anniversary party.

You are the only woman alive who can proudly say she’s broken his heart not once, not twice, but three times. The first time being when you threatened to switch him to another therapist, but luckily he saw right through that ploy. 

The next time when you had the gall to lie to his face about where you were going. When you started speaking about Saturday, he could feel his heart flutter a bit, truly believing you were gonna invite him to meet your folks. Even now he could imagine how it would have felt to be offered such a thing, to be brought home and be introduced as your boyfriend proper. Even after you brought up your friends he could have dealed with that if only it would bring him much more into your life. Only for you to bring him back down to Earth with your refusal to bring him.

The last time was when you couldn’t say you loved him back. God was that a kick to the chest because he may not be the smartest man, but even he knew that it meant one of two things. Either you wanted to say it and you couldn’t for whatever reason… or you didn’t love him and you were just feeling particularly guilty about it that day. ‘

He couldn’t accept that though. Something in your life was preventing you from saying it back and really he knew there could only be one thing. Was it really so monstrous to remove it if it left you feeling like this?

You love him, he knows that you do and you only need a push in the right direction in order to admit it.  

And if you didn’t… he couldn’t afford to think like that. 

So he had to push through. Had to do what was necessary. Had to believe you love him. 

Had to believe he was still worth loving.

He knew words meant nothing at the end of the day (you taught him as much) he had to find a way to prove you did love him and that you weren’t in it for yourself. 

The only question was how.

After he sees you leave that place, looking devastated, it takes everything within him to not take you in his arms. But he has a goal in mind and he has to figure out where exactly you're at mentally in order to push through. 

For all he knows you’re on your way to pack up your office right now, but he has to be sure. 

Red tries to stop him before he gets out of the car, but ends up backing off, with a single glare his way. He waits for a bit before approaching the modest looking house after you had left, and knocks on the door, and once it opens he has to remind himself who he’s doing this for, and knock that fucker’s lights out. 

Even when he has never met them before, people weirdly enough have a lot of trust in him. And Mark Whatever his last name is, proves to be no different. Elvis greets him with his first name and a quick hug as though they were old friends and lets himself into the house as Mark still gapes at the doorway. 

He finds a den with two identical mugs on a coffee table, and he finds a very familiar lipstick color on one of them (how could he not there’s still a ring of it around his cock). Mark shuffles his way into the sitting room, absolutely struck dumb by Elvis' presence, and Elvis finds it hard to believe that he ever saw him as a rival for your love. 

Mark notices the mugs still on the coffee table and makes a motion to grab them, stammering out an apology about the mess. Before he could do so, Elvis notices the light color from your mug and hides a self satisfied smirk at that. Where once you only took your coffee black, your tastes have now become closer aligned to his own. 

Elvis puts a hand down on the mug as he says, “Why dontcha take a seat right down there Mark?” It’s kind of pathetic really seeing a man take orders from a stranger in his own house, but it serves Elvis’ purposes all the better. And with the way Mark awkwardly takes a seat it’s apparent that he is still flustered at Elvis’ presence in his den. 

Good, he thinks. Should keep him honest.

“Wh-what’s this about?” Mark asks, uneasily.

“It’s about our good friend, Y/N of course,” he says as though it were so obvious.

“O-Oh, uh, she was over here not too long ago,” he stammered out, before his brows furrowed even more confused. “How do you know her?” 

“Through her daddy,” Elvis lies coolly. “I don’t know if you noticed but she’s been a bit outta sorts recently. And I’m hopin’ you could help me figure out what’s been botherin’ her.”

“I-I don’t think it’s my place to say,” Mark sputters out.

“C’mon Matt,” he says, leaning forward just a little bit to really sell the concern. “You can talk to me ‘bout this,” echoing your own words from way back when. 

If he noticed the wrong name he didn’t say anything as he nervously looks down at his own hands, before muttering out a soft “she’s been having some trouble with a patient of hers.”

“Huh…” he says, raising his brows a bit at this. “She tell you who?”

“She would never tell me anything like that,” he quickly defends and Elvis relaxes a bit. “But ummm… she-she just needed some advice as to how to handle this patient. And I-I let her know that whatever consequences she imagines would happen, are not as bad as the reality. So it would be better to act now as opposed to later.”

“Hmmm…” he hums, and just like that he can already feel you slipping through his fingers. But he holds on to that look you had leaving. How distressed you looked at the idea of having to drop him all together, but he also knows you’re a tough one that can make the right decisions, even when they’re hard, and that’s why he loves you so. “Tell me Max, what would you do if you were in her situation?” he asks even though he already figures the answer.

“Personally… I would’ve dropped the patient a long time ago,” he says without any remorse. He says this next part so coldly that he finds it hard to imagine that you have ever had anything in common with him save for your chosen field. “Not just because it is the right thing to do, but because, for as little information as I have about the situation, this patient is simply not worth all the grief they’re causing her.” 

But it’s not me, Elvis wanted to defend. It’s her work, if it weren’t for that gettin’ in the way she wouldn’t have to be so goddamn worried all the time. 

“And did you tell her that?” Elvis asks, worried as to what may be brewing in that little head of yours if this son of a bitch has been whispering in your ear.

“God no,” the professor says. “I told her to do what she can live with. But I know her,” he says leaning back, sure in his opinion, though unaware that these words perhaps just saved his life. “She’s gonna make the right choice on her own or it won’t mean much.”

For all his degrees, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about, is all Elvis can really think in that moment. He can’t possibly even begin to understand the kind of relationship you have with him, and how in fact he is the right choice for you, as you’re his. 

If a baby was about to walk into a pool, would he just let it happen because it was it’s choice? That’s downright evil in his book. Sometimes you need to make the decision for others and step in when they’re about to make the wrong ones. And if that’s what he has to do to for you then goddamnit he will. 

“Well, I think I best get going,” Elvis would say after contemplating this man's words. He knew how impressionable you can be, so he needs to act fast to undo whatever poison this asshole put in your head.

“O-oh of course,” he stutters. “Umm.. thank you for stopping by today.” 

“Now Mark, that fancy title you got, tells me you’re a smart man, right?” Elvis says a hand on his shoulder as he makes his way to the door. 

“...yes?” he answers tentatively.

“Now this story, I think it best you keep it to yourself.” he says, and he watches the man's brow furrowed in confusion. “Afterall I don’t think you wanna be known in your field for blabbin’ anything to anyone who just walks in your door.” 

“Of course not,” he says uneasily. “Thank you for your concern for Y/N, Elvis. Hopefully she’ll be back to normal soon.”

“Course,” Elvis would reply, holding out his hand for the professor, which Mark takes. “And please, call me Mr. Presley,” and on that confusing note he turns around and heads back to the car. 

He stews on that asshole’s words the whole way home, no one daring to talk about it until he did. He wants to trust 

But he knows if he lets this stand and doesn’t interfere, you’re going to make the wrong choice. Ultimately he decides to make the choice for you for your own good. He’s let chance rule his life for far too long, so he’s gotta make his own luck.

He cycles through just about everything he knows about you and tries to figure out how it could possibly help him.

And then he remembers how you once told him how your worst fear is seeing your patients fall back to their old ways, especially with those who abused them. 

Just the thought of going back to Parker makes him sick to his stomach. For as much as he loves you, he’s not willing to do anything that will bring that bastard back into the fold, and he doubts you would want that either. But he almost resolves himself to do it until he’s pulling into the driveway and sees Charlie’s car. 

And then he’s reminded that Charlie always did do a pretty spot on Parker impression. Especially if you ain’t ever heard that old toad talk before. And finally an awful plan began to form in his head.

It’s sneaky and underhanded, and it literally leaves a bad taste in his mouth that could only be chased away by that Wine. That sweet taste on his tongue reminds him of that first night in your office. He remembers how you cried so sweetly for him. How you pushed him away so overwhelmed with what you felt for him. How excited you got when he called you by your name. How you called him daddy for the first time. 

What he remembers most of all is how he had to apply some pressure to you in order to break through that tough professional wall you’ve set between the two of you. But it was worth that sweet sweet outcome. 

And if he gets the answer he wants from you, it would be worth it yet again. 

You wanted him to take charge then, and you want him to take charge now. 

So this is something he has to do and this is his cross to bear.

Ideally you never had to know. 

Once the call was over Charlie could hardly look him in the eye, and practically scrambles to get the hell out of there once given the signal. He feels a twinge of guilt and hopes that this be the last morally bad thing he asks of the man. But with the way you’ve been able to keep him on the straight and narrow since you’ve met him, he thinks it will be. 

Still he welcomes the solitude, knowing that this is undoubtedly going to be the worst minutes of his life, and the only one he could even fathom spending them with is the one he’s currently waiting on. He knows you well enough that you wouldn’t be one to sit on this for too long, so tonight he’s going to learn one of two things about you: either you tell him about “Parker” and try to help save him from the rat bastard… or you say yes to “Parker” and you prove yourself to be like the rest.  

He tries to chase that nasty feeling out of his head with the wine, and the sweet taste of it reminds him of that first night with you. How for all of your fighting and protesting you still gave in, how you kept coming back even as he knowingly put you through the wringer. How you would settle just as easily in his arms as he did in yours. 

If that ain't love, then I guess I don’t know what the hell is, he remembers thinking. You’re the last hope he has to believe that he can be loved for him, not for Elvis Presley. To love him through his fears, his hopes, his anxiousness, his temper, his jealousy, his dreams, all of it. 

And his faith in you is rewarded as you as his phone rings within minutes.

Where most people would blow up in a rage and scream and curse till their hoarse about something like this, you’re not like most people. No you’re far too composed to ever do that. Growing up in a house where your wants and feelings were second to everything will do that to you he guesses. 

You’re like that with everyone… except for him. You freely express all your thoughts and opinions with him, never afraid to give him the business when necessary but always honest in a way few people in his life are these days. 

You’re at your most vulnerable with him. You’re so used to hiding how you feel for others' benefits, and he’s glad you don’t have to do that with him. It was a long hard road to get to this point but goddamn if it wasn't worth every moment.  

He’s almost… giddy knowing that you’re going to be mad and he’s gonna be the only witness to it.

But for all your anger and fury, righteous or not. Ain’t none of it will change the fact that at the end of the day you still chose him. 

And even as you wordlessly turn and walk almost robotically up the stairs he’s confident that you’re going to choose him again. 

He barely has time to get the words out before the rest of them are in a frenzy to get out of the house, apparently unwilling to stick around for the fireworks. He doesn’t know what they're so squeamish about, he knows for a fact that they would’ve done worse if he asked them to. 

He trots up the stairs, maybe going a little slower, wanting to really rile you up. When he gets to your shared bedroom, you’re packing up a storm. 

It’s honestly cute that you think you’re going anywhere. 

A part of him knows he should feel more guilty about it. He does feel some guilt of course he’s not a monster, but it does feel roughly the same amount of guilt if he had broken a vase or something. It felt bad in the moment, and he tried his damndest to hide it, but ultimately it didn’t mean much. 

Sure you had been upset those first few weeks after the story dropped but eventually you did get over it and finally learned to enjoy your newfound life as his girl. Yes it cost you your job, but in the grand scheme of things it didn’t matter much. 

And if he’s being honest it only really mattered in getting you to meet him.

Most people would be either on their knees begging for forgiveness from you or continuing to feign ignorance to all of it.

But he’s not most people. He knows what he did and he knows he ain’t got nothing to be sorry over. 

“Can you believe them Hollywood producers ain’t never wanted me in no serious movies?” he says casually, now that there are no more secrets between either of you. 

You throw a bottle of wine at him. 

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

Ending Note: As Battie as my witness I’ve had this twist planned since the beginning. It’s up to you if I did enough to justify this choice but I am happy with the results. 

Taglist

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[crowsandmurderbackup]

Tags and Verses

NATHAN ROYAL SCOTT

Nathan  ✖ (Aesthetics)

Nathan  ✖ (Thoughts)

Nathan ✖ (Character Development)

Nathan  ✖ (Crack)

Nathan ✖ (Headcanons)

Nathan  ✖ (Photos)

Nathan  ✖ (Verses)

BIOGRAPHY:

Nathan Scott was raised to never want anything, as the son of Dan and Deb Scott. But, life wasn't always perfect. He knew his father had a bastard so, and he hated the kid, because he existed. He knew they were only several months apart, and he just hated him. It wasn't like they traveled in the same circles though. Nathan was popular, head of the basketball team, propular girlfriend. But, that didn't mean he didn't make him miserable when he could.

It wasn't all easy though. His fa her was obsessed with his basketball career, since the time he could dribble a basketball. He wasn't stupid. He knew it was more about his dad, than it was about him. His family was pretty much crazy.

His life got even crazier when his 'brother' joined the basketball team and he made his life hell for it, only easing off, when he promised Haley James he'd ease off, if she tutored him. He'd made a bet he could get with her. But, he hadn't expected her to make such an impression on him. Everything kind of changed, after that.

His parents decided to divorce, and sick of them trying to put him in the middle, he emancipated himself. He and Lucas get along on off weeks, and he and Haley, well that was another story. It was normal to get married in high school, right? Everyone said he changed, and maybe they were right...until she left and went on the road. He reverted to before and even when she returned, he was hard on her, and Lucas both.

Eventually, he worked it out with them all, but things are never easy with his life, and he didn't always make the best choices. But one thing was good, for sure and that was holding his baby son for the first time, on his graduation day.

In college, he went all-American and nearly lost it all a few years later, when he went through a glass window, and hurt his back. But over time, he got it back, and with the support of his family, finally made the NBA. But sometimes, dreams changes and ability to hold his family becomes more important.

[PLOTTED AU THINGS ARE AVAILABLE. THIS IS JUST HIS GENERAL BIO]



VERSES: 

I have never had a dad who wished I was a stain on a bed sheet

Nathan Scott, younger son of Dan Scott, or if you ask Dan or Nathan, only son of Dan Scott, is pretty much the star of the Tree Hill Ravens basketball team. He's popular, has an attitude, and has been known to bully people. The thing he hates most: the existence of his father's bastard son, Lucas. What Nathan didn't anticipate was his effort to get under Lucas skin after he joined the team, to change his whole life.

I already know my future

The last thing that Nathan would have imagined a year ago, is that he would be married, and that he and Lucas would be friends, and even brothers? But, he's trying to navigate it the best he can, and deal with basketball. But, the pressure from his dad hasn't gone away, despite being emancipated. Being married this young isn't as easy as it looks, and there's this asshole singer who is giving him a bad feeling, who seems to be 'helping' Haley.

Like a man possessed

Married or not, he still didn't always handle things the best, and well, neither did Haley. First, she went on tour, and he went completely off the deep end. But, it just got worse. He was self-destructing and fast. She reappeared the night before he left for High Flyers for the summer, and he didn't know how to handle it, so he didn't.

The roots are still there. It just takes time.

Senior year is starting. He is Captain of the Tree Hill Ravens. His game is looking better than ever. Everything should be going great, except it wasn't. He still was married, and...he didn't know if he wanted a divorce...wanted to be married...wanted to punch Lucas, or drive another race car into another wall. He'd tried reverting to the old Nathan Scott before, and it hadn't really worked. Now, he was trying to co-exist in the same town as Haley, who kept saying she wasn't going anywhere. But, he didn't know if he could trust her. He and Lucas were still at odds, despite the fact that deep down, he knew it wasn't Lucas' fault that she'd left. He was slowly letting her back in, but it would take time, among other things. This year would be one he would never forget though, one of loss, pain, and new life.

All-American

Getting into college wasn't easy for Nathan. The mess with point shaving, to try to pay back Dante, had made him unappealing to Duke, and so many other schools. If it wasn't for Whitey, he wouldn't be playing ball anywhere. He wound up playing for Whitey, with Lucas as Assistant Coach at Gilmore University, while he and Haley worked to balance school, life and raising their baby, James Lucas Scott. Eventually, Nathan transfers to University of Maryland, College Park, where he was a First-Team All American.

I am not good at being vulnerable.

During the next several years, Nathan continues to work towards the NBA, even getting a shoe deal. It is looking like he is going to be drafted to the Seattle Sonics, but it all changed when he got into a fight, that led to him getting thrown through a window, and losing feeling in his legs. He felt like everything had been taken from him, and he started drinking all the time, depressed. Over time and realizing he needs to be there for Haley and Jamie, he is able to stand up and try to work his way back, even working with a troubled teen on Lucas' basketball team. But, things never stay easy in his life and his comeback was difficult, as was his life at home, due to problems with the nanny, his father and many other things. He tries to face things as a family, but sometimes, things are hard.

I got called up.

After trying slamball and nearly injuring himself again, Nathan makes the D-Team Charleston Chiefs. He faces yet more adversity, as the player with the current #23 tells him that he's not just going to let him walk on the team. He butts heads with a couple of the players, but eventually, he finally gets his call up to the Charlotte Bobcats, finally making it to the NBA.

You have saved me so many times.

Life as an NBA player is not a bad life to have. Nathan Scott worked hard to get there, and it's nice playing in Charlotte, since he gets to be close to family, unless he's on the road. His agent has become like family and he really likes being a Bobcat, and likes watching Jamie grow. As he gets closer to a contract year, he's not hearing what he wants to hear and he's starting to get worried about it. It doesn't help that some woman is claiming to be pregnant with his child. His father manages to get her to admit she's lying, but even in the midst of everything, Haley's mom dies, and at the last moment, Clay gets him a contract to stay in Charlotte and overjoyed at Haley being pregnant, he doesn't initially tell her that the doctors think he doesn't have that much time left, with his back.

I will be leaving the game of basketball.

After Clay is shot, Nathan leaves camp and he tells Haley about his back. He wants to try to be an organ donor, even if he is not a match. He makes the hard decision to put basketball behind him. Once Clay recovers, he helps him with the new agency, and tries his hand at being a sports agent, and turns out to be a pretty good one. Life seems to be okay, even without basketball, well unless you count, getting kidnapped and nearly murdered. He was able to make peace with his dad, who died saving his life. But, he thinks it all might be okay. He's got a great family, and he doesn't hate this sports agent thing, but maybe, he'll take a vacation for a bit.

Someday is today.

Life continues in the Scott home, as Jamie and Lydia grow up. Nathan continues to work with Clay, and Nathan proves to be a good, loving father, and hasn't nearly gotten murdered recruiting athletes again. When his son passes his scoring record, he's proud of him.

FACECLAIMS: 

James Lafferty

[crowsandmurder]

TAGS & VERSES

NATHAN ROYAL SCOTT

Nathan  ✖ (Aesthetics)

Nathan  ✖ (Thoughts)

Nathan ✖ (Character Development)

Nathan  ✖ (Crack)

Nathan ✖ (Headcanons)

Nathan  ✖ (Photos)

Nathan  ✖ (Starter Call)

Nathan  ✖ (Verses)

BIOGRAPHY:

Nathan Scott was raised to never want anything, as the son of Dan and Deb Scott. But, life wasn't always perfect. He knew his father had a bastard so, and he hated the kid, because he existed. He knew they were only several months apart, and he just hated him. It wasn't like they traveled in the same circles though. Nathan was popular, head of the basketball team, propular girlfriend. But, that didn't mean he didn't make him miserable when he could.

It wasn't all easy though. His fa her was obsessed with his basketball career, since the time he could dribble a basketball. He wasn't stupid. He knew it was more about his dad, than it was about him. His family was pretty much crazy.

His life got even crazier when his 'brother' joined the basketball team and he made his life hell for it, only easing off, when he promised Haley James he'd ease off, if she tutored him. He'd made a bet he could get with her. But, he hadn't expected her to make such an impression on him. Everything kind of changed, after that.

His parents decided to divorce, and sick of them trying to put him in the middle, he emancipated himself. He and Lucas get along on off weeks, and he and Haley, well that was another story. It was normal to get married in high school, right? Everyone said he changed, and maybe they were right...until she left and went on the road. He reverted to before and even when she returned, he was hard on her, and Lucas both.

Eventually, he worked it out with them all, but things are never easy with his life, and he didn't always make the best choices. But one thing was good, for sure and that was holding his baby son for the first time, on his graduation day.

In college, he went all-American and nearly lost it all a few years later, when he went through a glass window, and hurt his back. But over time, he got it back, and with the support of his family, finally made the NBA. But sometimes, dreams changes and ability to hold his family becomes more important.

[PLOTTED AU THINGS ARE AVAILABLE. THIS IS JUST HIS GENERAL BIO]

VERSES: 

I have never had a dad who wished I was a stain on a bed sheet

Nathan Scott, younger son of Dan Scott, or if you ask Dan or Nathan, only son of Dan Scott, is pretty much the star of the Tree Hill Ravens basketball team. He's popular, has an attitude, and has been known to bully people. The thing he hates most: the existence of his father's bastard son, Lucas. What Nathan didn't anticipate was his effort to get under Lucas skin after he joined the team, to change his whole life.

I already know my future

The last thing that Nathan would have imagined a year ago, is that he would be married, and that he and Lucas would be friends, and even brothers? But, he's trying to navigate it the best he can, and deal with basketball. But, the pressure from his dad hasn't gone away, despite being emancipated. Being married this young isn't as easy as it looks, and there's this asshole singer who is giving him a bad feeling, who seems to be 'helping' Haley.

Like a man possessed

Married or not, he still didn't always handle things the best, and well, neither did Haley. First, she went on tour, and he went completely off the deep end. But, it just got worse. He was self-destructing and fast. She reappeared the night before he left for High Flyers for the summer, and he didn't know how to handle it, so he didn't.

The roots are still there. It just takes time.

Senior year is starting. He is Captain of the Tree Hill Ravens. His game is looking better than ever. Everything should be going great, except it wasn't. He still was married, and...he didn't know if he wanted a divorce...wanted to be married...wanted to punch Lucas, or drive another race car into another wall. He'd tried reverting to the old Nathan Scott before, and it hadn't really worked. Now, he was trying to co-exist in the same town as Haley, who kept saying she wasn't going anywhere. But, he didn't know if he could trust her. He and Lucas were still at odds, despite the fact that deep down, he knew it wasn't Lucas' fault that she'd left. He was slowly letting her back in, but it would take time, among other things. This year would be one he would never forget though, one of loss, pain, and new life.

All-American

Getting into college wasn't easy for Nathan. The mess with point shaving, to try to pay back Dante, had made him unappealing to Duke, and so many other schools. If it wasn't for Whitey, he wouldn't be playing ball anywhere. He woundle up playing for Whitey, with Lucas as Assistant Coach at Gilmore University, while he and Haley worked to balance school, life and raising their baby, James Lucas Scott. Eventually, Nathan transfers to University of Maryland, College Park, where he was a First-Team All American.

I am not good at being vulnerable.

During the next several years, Nathan continues to work towards the NBA, even getting a shoe deal. It is looking like he is going to be drafted to the Seattle Sonics, but it all changed when he got into a fight, that led to him getting thrown through a window, and losing feeling in his legs. He felt like everything had been taken from him, and he started drinking all the time, depressed. Over time and realizing he needs to be there for Haley and Jamie, he is able to stand up and try to work his way back, even working with a troubled teen on Lucas' basketball team. But, things never stay easy in his life and his comeback was difficult, as was his life at home, due to problems with the nanny, his father and many other things. He tries to face things as a family, but sometimes, things are hard.

I got called up.

After trying slamball and nearly injuring himself again, Nathan makes the D-Team Charleston Chiefs. He faces yet more adversity, as the player with the current #23 tells him that he's not just going to let him walk on the team. He butts heads with a couple of the players, but eventually, he finally gets his call up to the Charlotte Bobcats, finally making it to the NBA.

You have saved me so many times.

Life as an NBA player is not a bad life to have. Nathan Scott worked hard to get there, and it's nice playing in Charlotte, since he gets to be close to family, unless he's on the road. His agent has become like family and he really likes being a Bobcat, and likes watching Jamie grow. As he gets closer to a contract year, he's not hearing what he wants to hear and he's starting to get worried about it. It doesn't help that some woman is claiming to be pregnant with his child. His father manages to get her to admit she's lying, but even in the midst of everything, Haley's mom dies, and at the last moment, Clay gets him a contract to stay in Charlotte and overjoyed at Haley being pregnant, he doesn't initially tell her that the doctors think he doesn't have that much time left, with his back.

I will be leaving the game of basketball.

After Clay is shot, Nathan leaves camp and he tells Haley about his back. He wants to try to be an organ donor, even if he is not a match. He makes the hard decision to put basketball behind him. Once Clay recovers, he helps him with the new agency, and tries his hand at being a sports agent, and turns out to be a pretty good one. Life seems to be okay, even without basketball, well unless you count, getting kidnapped and nearly murdered. He was able to make peace with his dad, who died saving his life. But, he thinks it all might be okay. He's got a great family, and he doesn't hate this sports agent thing, but maybe, he'll take a vacation for a bit.

Someday is today.

Life continues in the Scott home, as Jamie and Lydia grow up. Nathan continues to work with Clay, and Nathan proves to be a good, loving father, and hasn't nearly gotten murdered recruiting athletes again. When his son passes his scoring record, he's proud of him.

FACECLAIMS: 

James Lafferty

[jaehyunnie77]

hey babess i love your writing! can i request a jaehyun x ceo! y/n fic? (fluff + smut) something along the lines of jaehyun being the only one who can turn boss babe y/n soft & submissive?

Pairing: assistant!jaehyun x female!ceo

Genre: smut and tiny fluff

Warnings: mentions of masturbation, sexual tension, office sex, fingering, oral (male recieving), dom jaehyun, sub reader, protected sex

Word Count: 2.2k

a/n: hi love! thank you so much for the request. it makes me so happy to hear you love my writing <3. I had fun writing this one. I'm so sorry this took forever, but I do hope you like it. Also, Lemonade and Sticker Jaehyun did something to me so I got carried away a bit lol. enjoy

—

Knock knock.

"Come in!" you yell keeping your eyes on the computer screen. You really don't understand why people use Urgent as the subject line when it wasn't really urgent at all. The door to your office opens and the woody cologne of your assistant hits your nose. It takes everything in you to continue reading the email.

"Miss Y/LN, you have a five o'clock meeting today with design department." Jeong Jaehyun looks at his tablet in his hand to make sure there wasn't anything else he was missing. Last time you missed an important conference call all because he wasn't paying close attention to your schedule.

"Fuck." you say under your breath. You completely forgot about the meeting and honestly, didn't want to go. You stop reading and rub your temples. You look up just in time at your assistant and you both lock eyes. There is no denying there is heavy sexual tension between you both. Everyone in the office, hell, everyone in the entire building can sense the chemistry between you and your assistant.

You won't admit it to anyone, but the way he talks to you in his soft voice, makes your ovaries go in overdrive. The way his hand would slightly touch yours when handing you papers, gave you goosebumps. From your desk you have a perfect view of him, you can't help but look at him and daydream. When you two would talk about something outside of work, you can't help but smile and laugh with him. You wouldn't say you were whip for him, he was just a good eye candy to have around during stressful times.

Okay, you may have thought about him and his fingers a couple of times whenever you masturbated, but no one needed to know that.

However, you would never act on those fantasies because you are the CEO of a multimillion-fashion company. You can't afford to be distracted.

"Cancel and move it to another date and time next week. I have all of these paperwork I need to sort through." you say.

Jaehyun nods his head as his hand starts tapping away on his tablet. "Done. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No that is all. You may leave for the day."

Jaehyun gives you another nod and walks out of your office. You stare at his back and thirst over his figure. You wish you could run your hands all over his broad shoulders, hug around his waist, and your hands running through his gel back hair.

Jeong Jaehyun has been your assistant for the last four months and surprisingly, he is the only one who stayed the longest. All of your other assistants were either fired or quit because of how demanding you are. You were prepared to find another assistant when Jaehyun quit, but he could handle your sharp tongue and ranging mood swings.

In the end, it works out for you because you get to see his muscles flex and his dimples almost every day of the week. You get to boss him around whenever you like just to see if he would break one day. Strangely enough, he is the only one who makes you feel this way, both horny and soft for him.

If you could, you would fuck him on your desk and have your way with him. You would edge and overstimulate him over and over again, if only your reputation wasn't on the line. Your pussy clench around nothing with just the thought of Jaehyun under you. Before your imagination could run any more wilder, you get back to work.

The following day, you were overwhelmed with the stacks of paper work that sat on your desk. Jaehyun has been helping you sort through most of it the entire day and by the time you look at your clock, it was well past eleven o'clock. You sigh as you glance over at Jaehyun who looks just as tired as you.

"Jaehyun that should be it for today. We can sort through the rest on Monday." you collect the papers in front of you and put them in your file cabinet. "You should go home to your girlfriend or whoever is waiting for you at home." you mentally slap yourself for even saying that aloud.

Jaehyun sees your flustered state and grins as he puts the stack of papers on one side of his desk. "It's fine and for your information, I don't have anyone waiting for me."

You try your hardest to breathe and tighten your cross legs. It was his voice and the way he said it that sent shivers down your spine. His sexy sulky voice that you've heard once and made your pussy clench. Oh how you want to fulfill your fantasies right now.

"Miss Y/LN?"

"Yes Jaehyun?"

You didn't notice Jaehyun getting up from his chair and walking towards you.

"Y/N."

You finally look up surprise to see him leaning against your desk right beside you. He has a cocky smile and even from this angle, he looks like a hot Thor, but hotter.

You gulp as you regain your composure, "What is it Jaehyun?"

Jaehyun leans down, his face comes closer to yours, and you don't dare back away. When his face was inches from yours, you whisper, "This is unprofessional."

He gazes into your eyes, still smirking, "Was it unprofessional all the times we've been eye fucking from across the room?"

You sigh as you gave in and close the gap connecting your lips. It was cold a minute ago, but now it was hot. Hot and sexy. He grabs your neck to keep you in place as you get up from your chair and your hands finding their way to his neck. Both of your hands wander all over each other, until you start to unbutton his white shirt and he unzips your dress.

The height difference is making you weak, but you want to show him you're the boss and dominate him. Jaehyun notices what you're doing and you feel him smile in your heated make out session.

"Still trying to be the boss Y/N?"

"I am the boss Jaehyun." You finally get rid of his shirt and damn, does this man work out. You stop to admire his hardened abs, while Jaehyun finally takes off your dress, admiring you in just your bra and panties. You both take each other in.

To be clear, this has never happened before to you. You were always the one to set the pace, to show your partners for the night you were in charge, but this was different. Jaehyun was different. He was captivating and you wanted him to destroy you now that you've seen what it's like to be kissed and touched by him.

He leaves kisses on your jaw, your neck, to your chest and as he senses the sudden change in attitude, he growls. He captures your lips once more as he picks you up to sit you on your desk. He pushes everything on top of your desk away onto the floor and lays you down. He continues his kiss attack by leaving purple bruises all over your chest, boobs, and stomach. When he finally reaches where you need him the most, he teases you over your panties.

"Jaehyun." you whine.

"Yes baby." Even the nickname is driving you crazy.

"Stop teasing."

"If you say so." Jaehyun pushes your panties to the side and slides a finger between your folds.

"You're dripping wet. All for me?"

Without an answer or a warning, he pushes in a finger, then a second. The stretch makes your back arch as he pumps his digits into you. He curls his fingers and set a rapid pace as your walls pulsate around his fingers making you see the stars. Before you could reach your orgasm, he stops and takes them out.

"Jaehyun!"

"No. Be a good girl and don't come until I tell you to."

"I would do no such -"

He reinserts his fingers pumping into you again and when you clench, he stops again. He loves to see your expression when you were right on the edge and can see the frustration take over.

"J-"

"I said, be a good girl and come when I tell you to. If not, you won't come and we'll do this all night if we have to."

Fuck was he hot.

You whimper as you slowly nod to his command.

"Good girl. Now get on your knees."

You sit back up and get down on your knees anticipating for what's to come. Just as you were about to unzip his pants, he stops you with his hand on your wrist. "Don't. Hand behind your back." Once again, you did as you were told as you watch Jaehyun slowly unzip his pants and bring down his boxers. His long hard cock standing proud almost hitting your face. Precum visible as it leaks from his tip. You unconsciously lick your lips wanting nothing more than to have him in your mouth.

"Suck."

With your hands still behind your back, you inch forward and put him in your mouth. Jaehyun groans at the feeling of your warm mouth around him. You bob and twist your head as you slurp on his dick. Saliva mix with his precum are coming out of the corner of your mouth. You pull off him to catch your breath but Jaehyun wasn't having it. He grabs the back of your head, pushes his cock into your mouth, and fucks your mouth. You feel him hit the back of your throat and gag around him.

Jaehyun hisses when you moan and gag around him, "You're fucking sexy."

When he feels himself almost coming, he pulls you off, helps you up from the ground, and bend you over the desk. "Spread your legs."

You do as you he says and spread your legs best as you can. He grabs a condom from his wallet and rolls it on, pumping himself a few times before finally entering you. You let out a loud moan when his girth stretches you out perfectly. You feel so full.

Jaehyun doesn't wait for you to get use to him as he starts to pound into you. The way his hips thrusts into you has you moving up on your desk. You try to grab onto anything, but Jaehyun kept your hands behind your back still. Your head laid to the side and Jaehyun has the perfect view of your fucked out face.

He leans down next to your ears, "Do you think you could boss me around as a lost boy?" he thrusts harder.

"J-Jaehyun, ahh!"

"Do you think you could make me your bitch boy and tell everyone to reschedule your meetings every day?"

"Fuck!"

"Ah, do you think you could tease me every day when you wear those short dresses and skirts, bend over in front of me, and don't expect me to get hard?"

"Fuck fuck fuck!"

"What would everyone say when the CEO is getting fucked by her assistant?"

"Th-they w-won't b-believe y-you."

He growls in your ear, "Even when I'm balls deep in you, you still want to be the boss."

He pounds into your harder and faster making you see the stars, "Please Jaehyun."

"Who's the boss Y/N?" Jaehyun pulls your hair bringing you up to his chest. The new position as him hitting in deeper as you continue seeing the stars as tears fall out of your eyes.

"Jaehyun! You are! Oh my fucking God! Please don't stop, don't stop."

"You like that? You like getting your hair pulled?"

"Fuck yes! Only for you. Please let me come."

He was getting close too, "Come on my dick baby." You didn't need to be told twice as you let go and cum on his cock and soon enough he also reach his climax.

His hold on your hair loosens up as you fall forward on your desk with him falling on top of you, both of you worn out. He kisses your glistening shoulders as you feel him go soft inside of you. He pulls out throwing the condom away and helps you get dress.

Standing there with clothes back on and hair slightly messy, you suddenly feel shy. Jaehyun caresses your cheek as you shyly look up at him, a warm smile on his face with those beautiful dimples showing.

"Hi." he whispers.

"Hi." you feel yourself get butterflies in your stomach.

"I know this is reverse, but do you want to get dinner tomorrow?"

You study his face for any remorse or seriousness, but all you found is adoring eyes staring back at you.

"I'd love that, but," you pause. Jaehyun's expression falls.

"But?"

"But I'm still your boss and," you wrap your arms around his neck while his found your waist, "you're fired."

You smile up at him, feeling the rumble of his laughter. "That is fine by me as long as I have you by my side." He kisses your lips and you kiss back.

"About time honestly." you joke as you detached yourself to get your purse.

Jaehyun smiles at you, "Well if you weren't so busy bossing me around and playing this cat and mouse game -"

You lightly smack his chest laughing and you both walk out of your office interlocking your hands.

[patchworkpuzzle]

MINORS DNI 18+

word count: ~2.5k

paring: Sero x f!Reader

warning: rough handling, edging, overstimulation, squirting, clit slapping (so I guess impact play?)

authors note: so.... uh.... I wrote this for me. Been giving gifts that past few days and I wanted one so.... I hope you guys like it!  And please don’t perceive me, okay? (Also, so sorry if there are grammar mistakes. No beta reader, we die like men)

You had a bit of an attitude.

Not all the time, in fact most of the time you were very sweet. But sometimes, like today, it was made very clear that you were very much a brat. You had a craving since the moment you woke up to be ravished by your super handsome and wonderful boyfriend.

But alas, his hero work came in between your plans. And there was nothing you could do to stop the hero Cellophane from saving the day. So, you had to begrudgingly say goodbye, and good luck, to him as you watched him dash out the door.

On a normal day you would just let it slide. It wasn’t like Sero wanted to go in on his day off, he was dragged into it all. So, because of that, it means it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t tend to your needs. You know he would have, and he never left you unsatisfied. If you just waited like the good girl you were known to be, you would be rewarded.

But for some reason, you just couldn’t.

For some reason you were just in a mood. And that mood meant, instead of sulking all day trying to get your mind off things, you were going to make your horniness his problem too. If he was going to leave you needy, well then you were going to make him want to come home as soon as possible.

The back of your mind was nagging you the entire time. Telling you it wasn’t smart to get into your favourite lingerie set, nor was it wise to take that many selfies of yourself in said set, and that it was especially a bad idea to send those selfies to your boyfriend with the provocative messages attached.

And an even worse idea that when he responded, his usual dominance showing through telling you to ‘not to play this game with him right now’, to send him a video of you slowly touching yourself and loudly moaning his name.

He was silent after you sent that video. It was clear that he saw it, the icon proving as much, but as the hours passed without so much as a single word made you worried. That nagging voice now speaking even louder as the hours passed, telling you how much of a terrible idea it was.

But how bad could it be, really? Usually when Sero got this way it meant that you were going to be punished. And, oh, how your nerves shook with pleasure that went straight to your core at the thought. A night where Sero was mad at you, punishing you for being bad, meant a nonstop assault on your body. Being tossed, toyed, played with, fucked, within an inch of your life. Your body being abused in the most sinful, and pleasurable, of ways.

You bit your lip at the thought. When Sero got dominant over you it made you go feral; even more so than what you were now. As your mind was buzzing at all the possible outcomes he may have in store for you when he walked through the door.

What you were expecting, you didn’t know; but you weren’t about to complain in the slightest.

At least not much, that is. As your instincts screamed at you to walk out of your shared room to greet him when you heard the door slam open, and the sound of his boots harshly thumping against the ground as he took them off, but you held firm and stayed spread out on your bed. The only thing you did to show you knew he was home, was sit up. Your brattish attitude wiggled its way into your chest as you waited for him.

You heard him call your name, asking where you were. His voice was deceptive, he sounded friendly and normal, but the tone that was almost hidden underneath was dark; proving he was furious at you. It made your legs clamp and rub together, trying to alleviate the growing pleasure you felt as you held your tongue. You wanted him to find you.

And he did. It wasn’t like there were that many places to look after all. And when the door swung open to reveal his lean form, you gulped. Seeing him in his hero outfit always did something to you, the way it shaped his perfect body to show off every piece of strong muscle was almost sinful; certainly not fair to you every time you saw him in it. And the way it mixed with his dishevelled hair, clearly due to his helmet, and the dark threatening look held in his eyes as he scanned your form made a shiver run down your spine.

“I called out, why didn’t you respond Cariño?” Sero asked, his tone chillingly calm as he stalked his way to your side of the bed.

He didn’t sit down, like you expected him to. Sero just stood there, staring down at you, eyes scanning over your form once again as he took in just how lovely it all looked on you. Your heartbeat raced in your chest as you licked your lips, wanting to respond but instead you didn’t. You looked away from him.

A yelp, turning itself into a breathless whimper, let your lips as his hand grabbed your hair harshly causing you to sit up on your knees. His face came dangerously close to yours, to ensure you were looking directly at him. His warm breath fanned across your cheeks as you watched with hooded eyes as his tongue peeked past his lips to wet them.

“I asked you a question.” He growled out, his other hand coming up to wrap around your throat in warning “And I expect an answer.”

Sero could feel you swallow as you nodded your head, enjoying the way you were squirming in his hold. He waited a breath before throwing you face first back onto the mattress, chuckling darkly as he watched you lift your hips, so your ass was in the air; wiggling it to tempt him to spank it.

He ignored it, walking his way to the other side of the bed as he began to move some things around; mainly the full body mirror you kept in the corner of the room to sit facing the end of the bed.

“Papi!” You whined, turning your face to watch him but never moving out of your lewd position “I want you to play with me!”

“I know you do, Princesa.” His back was still to you, ignoring you completely as he finished setting everything up “But should I? You haven’t exactly been good, have you?”

The whine that left your lips could only be described as pathetic, as you continued to squirm on the bed; never once touching your aching core to avoid anymore neglect from the man before you. Small please and begs leaving your lips, telling him that you were being good.

“Please, want you to touch me Papi. Want you to fill me up, please Papi! I need it!” You whimpered, eyes starting to water with tears as your discomfort grew the longer you stayed untouched.

You heard Sero sigh as he finally turned to face you, a dark smile slowly starting to grace his features as he looked upon your glassy eyes. “You’re such a needy baby, aren’t you?” He cooed down at you.

You nodded your head as you carefully watched him walk up to you, gasping when he forcefully pushed your backside down on the bed. Grabbing hold of your arms he pulled you over to the end of the bed, picking you up before you had the chance to fall to the floor.

Without a word he maneuvered you to the floor, making you sit like a pretty doll as he sat himself down at the foot of the bed. Once comfortable, he patted his lap, allowing you to crawl up and sit on his lap. Though, before you could do anything else – like reach up to kiss his lips, he turned you around.

And then it all made sense.

Looking ahead, all you could see was your reflection staring back at you. It made heat flood to your face, as you watched the wicked grin return to Sero’s face as he forced your legs apart; spreading them wide and forcing them to stay in place with the use of his knees.

“Because my pretty girl wanted me to know how nice she looked today, she can sit here just like this while I play with her.” Sero chuckled as he heard the small whines leave your lips as he slowly petted up and down your inner thighs “And get to see how lovely she looks when she cums.”

You leaned your head back to rest on his shoulders, hooded eyes gazing at your own form. Mainly at the large hands that kept slowly rubbing up and down the expanse of your body. Slowly kneading the flesh of your breasts through the lacy fabric, before on hand dipped down to rub slowly at your clothed clit.

“Naughty girl, you’re soaked already!” Sero groaned, pushing aside the thin fabric to touch your fold directly “Were you waiting for me to play with this pussy all day?”

His teasing made you keen in embarrassment as you closed your eyes and bucked your hips in his hand, wanting to feel more than just the feather light touches he was currently giving you. Though Sero was not having any more of your misbehaving, as his hand came down to smack harshly at your bundle of nerves; the stinging red-hot pain causing you to cry out.

 “I said look at yourself!” Sero growled once more, his hand moving from your breast to lock on your jaw to force you to look in the mirror “And answer me when I ask you a question. This is your last warning, Princesa.”

“S-sorry Papi! You stuttered, trying to keep your eyes focused on what he was doing to you in the mirror and keeping your hips from moving too much “Please don’t stop. Please play with my sloppy pussy!”

“Yeah, want me to play with you? Want me to stuff you with my fingers?” Sero asked, enjoying the dazed expression you were giving him in the mirror as he slowly started petting your core again.

“Yes, please!” You whine drew out your words, but you couldn’t help it.

Not when he slowly started to pump two fingers into you, starting shallow before going deeper and deeper until he was touching that spongy spot inside you that made you see stars. His steady rhythm was causing your head to toss and turn from side to side, though making sure you still kept looking at your reflection, as it drove you crazy. Especially when he would scissor his fingers, slowly forcing your clenching hole to stretch to his desires.

You felt your orgasm approaching, the burning sensation made your legs shake as your moans grew louder and needier as you called out to Sero. Out of instinct you brought a hand down to grab hold of his wrist, to keep in place as your back arched. But just as you were about to tip over the edge, Sero ripped his hand from your core. The denial caused you to sob out as you bucked your hips widely to get the friction back.

“Brats don’t get to touch!” Sero growled, taking your hand and placing it back at your side “And they don’t get to cum without permission. Isn’t that right, Princesa?”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry Papi!” You wailed, fat tears threatening to fall from your eyes as you looked at his reflection, silently leading him for forgiveness “It won’t happen again, promise!”

“Shhhh” He cooed, rubbing his hand up and down your thigh to calm you down as his other hand moved to swipe the falling few falling tears “Be good and you’ll get to cum, okay?”

All you could do was nod your head, allowing yourself to calm down and for your breathing to go back to normal. When you felt his finger prod at your entrance once more, you had to force yourself to not buck into his hand. Or to whine in protest when his started to fuck you hard and fast with his fingers once more.

Though every time you seemed to get closer to your orgasm, Sero would pull away and try to calm you down. Reminding you to be good, or else his punishment would last even longer. It was frustrating, to say the least, you just wanted to cum after all. But you trusted Sero and knew that he was going to take care of you like he promised.

When you felt your core clench and tighten for the nth time that evening, Sero didn’t stop you from cumming. His hand that forced you to keep looking at the mirror tightened as he made sure you kept your eyes open to watch yourself, despite your mewls of discomfort over it. He didn’t let up either, he always thought you looked so pretty with your mouth agape as your face pinched in a mixture of ecstasy discomfort as he quickly pushed you over another orgasm.

“Keep looking, yeah that's it. You're gonna gush, aren't you pretty baby?” Sero asked, his fingers relentlessly hitting that special spot inside you that made you see stars.

“S’too much! Gonna cum again!” You slurred, trying to keep your eyes focused on your form in front of you but it was getting harder every second.

“Do it baby, wanna see yourself make a mess.” Sero groaned, the way your gummy walls clenched so tightly around his fingers made his cock twitch in his pants; he was going to make sure to fuck you dumb when he was done playing with you like this.

You let out a wail, your eyes crossing as your tongue involuntarily stuck itself out as you felt you cum gush out, forcing Sero’s fingers out along with it. Not that he minded, if his loud groan that accompanied your mewls was anything to go by.

“Yes, yes, yes! Good girl!” He praised, his hand coming to vigorously rub at your clit to make more of your release gush out of you and onto your thighs; soaking your comforter “That’s a good girl, yeah keep going!”

You whimpered when you felt his fingers enter you again, hand coming down to try and push him away only to have harshly slap at your clit once more and resume his attack on your core once more. The sounds of your slick echoed in the room, making you squirm in discomfort.

“P-papi, n-no more!” You sniffled, throwing your head back and crying out once more as you felt him hit your special spot again and again.

“Not a chance, Princesa.” Sero hummed, thumb coming up to rub at your sore clit “You didn’t look at yourself when you came just now, so now we got to start all over again.”

[hologramcowboy]

So why is Jensen so hung up on superheroes and cowboys? I mean, by all means good for him, but as far as superhero roles... he's past 40 and he's no RDJ. A cowboy thing I can see for him, but it seems like he's so hung up on those kind of roles and maybe that hinders him a bit?

Anon, let's remember that Greg Berlanti has shows that star actors Jensen's age as well not just youngsters. Aside from this, Jensen's look is perfect for that brand of character. Plus, he looks younger than he is. Well, looked, he seems to be set on ruining his face currently. (gotta thank Danneel for introducing him to botox urghhhhh) I get what you mean, age range wise he is out of range for important protagonists, true. But that doesn't mean there aren't plenty of guest star roles he could play on superhero shows. It's never to late to chase a dream as long as said actor is dedicated, carefully crafts their brand image to match their target roles and is smart about their PR and attitude. What's holding him back is his lack of training both acting business wise as well as acting wise. RDJ is a well trained actor with a strong following. Jensen is a subpar actor with a huge ego(or so it seems so far) and a following that seems kinda batshit to the outside world(I am referring to the crazy fans not the balanced ones). I know that's hard to hear but it doesn't do him any favors image wise, then there's his wife sabotaging every single thing about his image and the result is a diluted brand that doesn't communicate Jensen's essence to his buyers therefore slow progress. If Jensen wants to be a superhero character he needs to put in the work, physical, mental, emotional and brand-wise, only then will those who handle that type of genre pay attention to him. Besides, actors more than ever are now producing their own work to show people how to cast them. So Jensen could develop his own series if he's set on that path. I hope he gets all of his dreams even if I find his attitude to be extremely off putting and I think casting will too. By the way, your observation is not off, age is a big factor in the acting industry but it's also true that as actors change tiers as they age, build a family, experience new things etc, therefore their castability changes, they simply enter a new phase where they now have a new "buffet" of roles to submit themselves for.

[daisywrites4you]

Your Spark - Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Co-Star AU

Author’s Notes: No confirmed Reader Gender, Age is not confirmed but is younger than Charlie, Slight Hint at Slow Burn (within the one-shot), Season 2 concept and NOT confirmed

Your life never seemed to have its spark. Everything being an endless fleet of things needed to be done and experiences always half-finished. That was until it started with a chance meeting on a film-set. Your first day being on the Julie and The Phantoms set was all due to the off-chance that you managed to get the job as a new character: Reggie’s potential love interest. You were widely shocked to have managed such a high role after expecting to get supporting-cast or a background character. You remembered bits and pieces but your stagefright did block a lot out. Your audition had included a cover of ‘Can’t blame a girl for trying’ by Sabrina Carpenter while playing your acoustic. You had shyly walked into the room and almost tripped over a sound card on the floor. You felt like you’d die from embarrassment before you would ever even make it to the judges table. You had introduced yourself and started your lines and tried to avoid eye contact. When you finally managed to look up, the director seemed shocked and interested in your acting. So when it finally came to singing, you felt more comfortable and gave it your all. You remembered hearing cheering from the doorway and the clapping from those who were listening in. It gave you a sense of pride but you never anticipated being something special. Still, you were elated to get the opportunity to meet and work with the actors you learned to adore after watching season one. Your life was finally coming together...that was until your eyes met viridescent ones.

You were walking to the break room to meet the cast for the first time. Your first day jitters seeming to get worse and worse as you neared the door. After all, these were your idols that you were about to meet. Mainly, you were most nervous to meet Charlie, your current celebrity crush. You wouldn’t describe yourself as obsessed or anything, just a small fascination with his smile and chipper attitude. You couldn’t help it, your feelings for the dork emerged after his first appearance on Charmed and the small crush never really went away after that. Even so, you were determined to not make a fool of yourself.

Your hand met the handle of the door as you heard laughs echoing from inside. Your hands buzzed as you tried to gulp down the intense anxiety stirring through you. You turned the knob after fighting any mental doubts you had and pulled open the door. The sounds of laughter died down and all eyes fell on you. Now your anxiety spiked and you had to hold down the urge to run out of the room. You tried to avoid seeming scared and looked for something to catch your eyes so you wouldn’t freak out. When you finally managed to look around your eyes met another pair. They were intense and bright and you had to almost yell at yourself mentally to realize you were staring a little too long. Tearing your eyes away, you finally managed to see who those eyes belonged to...Charlie Gillespie. “Oh god,” you mentally shouted at yourself.

Everything seemed to go so slow but in reality it had only been a few seconds that your eyes met his. Everyone seemed to now understand that you were a new member and began to get up and introduce themselves. They were all so kind and gentle with you, making sure you weren’t spooked. Social anxiety is a major issue with you, so usually settings like this overstimulated you, however, this was genuinely nice. By the time you became more comfortable goofing around, you could feel a pair of eyes on you. You peered around the room as you spoke and your eyes met Charlie’s once more. You felt small tingles running along your back, and decided to flash him a small smile before continuing on as normal. At some point he joined the group and started conversing with you too.

As the day went on you and Charlie really hit it off as friends and it felt like you guys had been friends for far longer than it seemed. You had already started talking about your childhood, the good memories, that is, and he his own. He wasn’t the only friend you made however. You had gotten really close with Madison and Jeremy.

It has been some time now and you’d come to describe the cast as a family you never anticipated to have. Slowly your comfort levels developed and you started to become more comfortable around the cast, however there was some part of you that still held up reservations of showing who you were. No matter what you couldn’t shake that. Even so, they began to learn your love for reading, your admiration for the show, and how passionate you are as a person.

“I can’t believe your favorite line from the show was that of all things!” Mads teased loudly.

“Can you honestly blame me?” You questioned, flashing her a cheeky smile. You guys had gotten on the topic of season one and you both had started comparing favorite lines from the show. Your heart was currently still stuck on, “This is an interesting little relationship you and I have.” Mads couldn't help but agree that it is a good quote and any girl would swoon being told that. I mean, that scene did cause that crush of yours on Charlie to spiral once more when you first started getting into the show after finishing Charmed a year prior. However, you did try to shove those feelings far far away. You didn’t want any awkward tension or teases from the cast...especially from Madison. That girl would never let you live it down, you blame the gen z matchmaker within her. You couldn’t help but compare the young teen to a little sister and you had grown quite attached to her as you worked together on set. You’d spent most of your days with her at work, and even spent some time outside of work going shopping for squishmallows, thrifting, or even just having small movie nights. You knew one day you’d tell the curly haired Latina your woes. Until then, it was more so sneaky remarks and avoiding any talks of relationships in general. You were glad she was so disinterested in romance due to her career. Even so, you really had to keep it on the downlow, especially after this conversation. You couldn’t have her knowing that it wasn’t just the quote that gave you butterflies in that scene.

“Honestly girl, I’m just excited to see more favorite quotes being posted once this new season is released,” Madison beamed before continuing, “We’ve already gotten so far into filming.”

She was right though. You knew there was going to be more fan art and new content being issued. You honestly couldn’t wait to finally be a part of the mix. You had a huge feeling that fans were either going to be jealous of you, be upset that you ruined their ship, or ship you endlessly with Reggie. Thankfully, the shipping couldn’t be spread to real life because of Jeremy’s marriage. That thought almost made you sigh in relief. Your upcoming scene with Jeremy was actually happening soon and the scene entails to where you first meet after a JATP performance. Your characters are meant to walk right into each other and thus develop into an instant attraction and soon your character’s backstory; why they’re a ghost.

Your response to Madison was a laugh and, “Oh yeah, let's hope it's nothing too crazy...if you get what I mean,” nudging her arm as you went on.

She scrunched her nose and this makes you belt into a laughing spree, to which she begrudgingly joins soon enough. Eventually three figures emerge into view, your favorite ghost boys are back from set. “What are you guys laughing about?” Charlie asked with a chuckle and smile.

“Oh, just the fandom and the interesting things that will be posted once the season is dropped,” Madison joked while emphasizing ‘interesting.’

The boys all groaned but still had huge smiles on their faces while they did so. We all knew sad or ‘spicy’ content would be posted, and no matter how awkward it could sometimes be, we still adored the effort fans put into their works. It was one of the most fulfilling parts of the job; the endless support you receive.

You couldn’t help but smile at the boys. “Honestly guys, I’m excited to see all the stuff that’ll be released,” You expressed excitedly.

You were almost hopping up and down and it took a lot for the group to not laugh at your excitement. They were used to this type of adoration, but they knew you weren't, and they couldn’t help but see a younger version of themselves in you. They all whooped in agreement and you brought the conversation full circle by bringing up favorite quotes. You couldn’t help but admire Charlie as he expressed his favorite scenes, quotes, and memes of the show. The way he expressed himself via his movements, the way his presence radiates, and how passionate he is, made your eyes instinctively glue to him. You knew the group was around and tried to keep your eyes off of him to avoid suspicion. Although, you couldn’t really help the heartfelt stare you shot his way anytime a laugh or smile came from the Canadian.

There were many moments within the month or so it’s been with the dork that had slowly but surely made his way into your heart. After all, you worked on set together, so it was only natural for you both to get as close as you have. You were okay with that for some time until the day you realized your “celeb crush” was much more than a small fascination and was developing into much more. You were a quarter into filming and were currently getting your makeup done before set. Your mind kept wandering while real life slowly faded in and out. Thoughts and the sounds around you blurred together until you felt the tingles through your scalp as your stylist fixed your hair. Now, you could not get this specific memory out of your head; it was as vivid as when you first experienced it.

It was just any other filming day and the cast was on lunch break after having filmed for 5 hours. You were dying to get something to eat or you felt like you’d hurl. So you scurried to the line and ordered your food before rushing to sit down. You were quick to scarf down your food before the rest of the cast could even manage to sit down. Mads sat down and noticed your now empty plate, “Damn girl. Your stomach really went ‘Es hora de comer.’”

You peered up at the girl with a grin and laughed at her tiktok reference. She recently got you caught up on the references, gen z humor, and even set up a tiktok account that you occasionally post on. “I was hungry, miss girl. They do be starving us on the regular,” You whined, “Also, not you teasing me for eating quickly when we both know that you are always eating, especially on Instagram Live.”

Your hint of sass was not missed and Mads makes sure to exaggerate her gasp by making it as loud as possible while clutching her chest. This makes you both burst into a fit of giggles. You weren’t really paying attention to your surroundings before a pair of hands made their way into your hair. A surge of tingles burst along your scalp and upper back. You had a feeling you knew who it was but looked up to confirm the culprit. Of course your eyes met Charlie’s and you couldn’t help but get lost in them for a second; his eyes were always a warmer shade when you peered into them. As the eye contact was made, you could feel his fingers curling into your hair as you let out a giggle and relaxed into his touch. You had gotten used to his affectionate behavior and your heart was quite fond of it now. After all, he’s been doing things like this for a while now. You give him a teasing smile before muttering a simple, “Hey.” He offers you a smile back and asks the famous Joey Tribbiani line, “How you doin’?”

“I’m doing good now that I’m not dying of starvation,” You explained. His response to get under your skin per usual was, “Oh, poor baby~” while ruffling your hair.

You were flustered but decided to scoff at his response. “You may be a tad older than me, C, but this ‘poor baby’ can still kick your ass. Starvation is no laughing matter.”

You were only joking and the brunette could tell too. Even so, his hand tightened in your hair as your threat was still fresh in the air. If it weren’t for Madison laughing, you would have almost forgotten she was there. “You guys bicker like an old married couple,” she taunted.

Ever since that day you’ve craved nothing more than to be something more to him. It didn’t help when his love language is physical touch and he gives you cute nicknames; of course all of these were consented to and talked about. You both had spent time figuring out nicknames and even boundaries; which made you fall even harder for Charlie due to the man’s respect of others. Still, your brain relentlessly argued whether the actions were platonic or not. The memory of his touch still burned your skin with desire, and his eyes always seemed to captivate you, you know if you stared for too long, you’d be a goner. You wanted to tell him how much you loved him, but the impromptu feeling of rejection eased its way into your anxieties and you crumbled before it. So instead you’ve been endlessly daydreaming of what could be for the last month.

Your thoughts were once again interrupted by your stylist as she finished up your hairdo for the next scene you’d be filming. This scene entails a kiss scene with Reggie and you were dreading it entirely. It was bad enough that the man is married, but your feelings for Charlie, and brotherly relationship with Jer just made it worse. You were just hoping you wouldn’t have to reshoot too many times. You made your way to the set and as soon as you made it inside you spotted Charlie out of the crowd. You could already feel the tension throughout the room building. Anyone could see it; the anxiety of the shoot and the way you both stared at each other. You, with hope and him...well, you weren’t sure yet. It’s hard to pinpoint a single word for how he sees you when his eyes are so genuine and open to everyone he meets. You could only ever describe it as a warm feeling. Like, when you get freshly dried blankets out of your drying machine and bundle into them after a long rainy day.

Before you could manage to utter a response, Jeremy, who was at your side, whispers teasingly to you, “I do not like the energy we’ve created in the studio today.”

This broke you from your trance and you bursted into laughter. Of course the rest of the cast was confused at your outburst but you were thankful to have had Jeremy take off some of your stress. Jeremy was just as glad, after all, he noticed how your jaw was clamped tight and your arms were tense when entering the room prior. He took that as a small victory for the day. Of course that also didn’t go unnoticed from the Canadian across the room either.

After some time of filming, a lot of mess ups, and occasional chats, you managed to get to the 2nd to last scene of the day. Your character is arguing with Reggie. Both seemed to be annoyed with the other for avoiding each other. Thus, the scene is an argument. The next visual cues onto you. Your strands of locks were evident along your furrowed brow. Almost as if you were sweating from the heated argument that is occurring within the scene. The scene was written and described to have a lot of sexual tension without having to allude to anything crazy. The next shot is you screaming, “God why can’t you just man up for once and stop avoiding me? You can flirt with all the girls you want but can’t seem to even look me in the eyes. What is wrong with you?!”

After that it is supposed to pan to Reggie. Thus zooming into him with a hurt look all the while he looks from my eyes to my lips. Then he shouts while running up to me and cupping my face, “Because I’m in love with you and it scares me,” then crashing his lips into mine.

We’ve had to shoot this scene twice already for either cringing or messing up a line. However, this shot was the kicker because we both secretly agreed to imagine each other as the person we had feelings for.

The conversion with Jeremy had gone like this after the first few mess ups, “Okay so this isn’t working.”

To which you responded with a sigh, “yeah it’s just too weird...we keep letting our real lives divide us from our characters for this scene.”

He nodded his head in response before scratching his head. “How about we pretend that we aren’t talking to each other OR each other’s characters...and instead someone who holds our heart?” Jeremy offered thoughtfully.

You were shocked to have heard such a smart but scary plan. That’s when you paled, did he know of your crush? Before you could even ask he was quick to the punch. “I know. I figured it out after some time. The stares you gave him were a dead giveaway. I won’t tell anyone, but I think it would be a great way to get your feelings out there without having to subject yourself to that type of scenario right now. Use it for your gain and not your hindrance...if that makes sense?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the goofy brunette. He really was like family to you and he knew more about you than you expected. You were just glad you didn’t have to bottle it up from another person."I'm ready to try again, if you are?" Thus cueing to our now revised and improved scene. The scene now had so much pent up frustration and tension it was addicting to watch. No one could seem to tear their eyes away.

Thus, Kenny yelled cut and everyone was cheering. Everyone except Charlie, that is. You quickly looked at the male, his eyes for the first time since you met him were closed off and had a faraway look to them. Your feelings of dread and worry kicked in and you wondered what was wrong. Maybe you didn’t do the scene right? You weren’t honestly sure what to do in that moment, up until you felt Jeremy’s hand grab your shoulder and shake you slightly. “Hey, you did great! Our plan worked out well,” Jer made sure to mutter that last part.

He was now the only one who 100% knew of your feelings. You speculate that others are starting to catch on but weren’t sure entirely. Your response to him was, “Thanks, Jer. God I wish I could just say that to him myself, to be honest.”

Jeremy got a small chuckle out of that and pats your head before saying, “You’ll be ready one day...maybe sooner than later...mainly after that scene.”

You look at him questioningly before asking, “What is that supposed to mean?”

He shook his head and gave you a small smile before walking off. Now you were confused by two males in your life. “God, this is why I usually stick to female friends...at least there’s no riddles with women,” you thought to yourself.

You couldn’t manage to find Charlie after that scene and didn’t find him at all for the rest of the filming day. This aggravated you a lot because you were excited to hear the praise from him the most. After all, that was the most major scene in the entire season for your character. At times like this you wished you had Charlie’s number to just text him and see how he was doing. But even after all these months, you never managed to ask for his number. You guys would just rely on conversation at work. Plus you assumed he was the busy type and wouldn’t be on his phone often anyways. So instead you made your way to Jeremy after a few hours to see if anything was going on. He seemed just as carefree as usual, figures.

"He's been missing since the 2nd to last scene of the day and you're not worried?" You ask Jer.

“No, because you could always shoot him a text. I’m sure he’s alright and just needed time to cool off after filming,” Jeremy says but his voice doesn’t sound so confident. It almost seemed like he was lying.

“I don’t exactly have his number yet, bub,” you grumbled.

Jeremy laughed at your expression and nudged you, “Hey, cut me some slack, I’m trying to help.”

"If you give me his phone number, I might reconsider,” you say with a smirk and gleaming eyes. Jeremy contemplated it but thought it was best that the phone number was earned and not given out by someone else. Consent is key guys.

At some point you gave up searching for the man, “He’s an adult and can handle himself,” you thought.

You made your way to your trailer and you soon heard footsteps approaching you. Owen’s voice interrupted your thoughts, “Hey, are you okay? You seem kind of upset.”

You looked up to the blonde and gave him the sincerest smile you could manage. “Yeah…” your response was off timed and almost broken and was a dead giveaway that it was a lie. You scolded yourself for your horrible acting.

“I can tell you aren’t. Mind if we talk about it?” He asked softly. Of course you couldn’t say no to him, his offer was too sincere and heartfelt.

So instead you sighed and muttered, “Okay but in private. Come into my trailer.” He nodded his head in response and followed you inside.

“Where do I even start?” This was more so a question you were asking yourself and less so him.

“If you have to start with bullet points, that's totally fine,” he offered.

You nodded in relief and began listing your current issues. “Honestly, I’m worried about Charlie. Usually he’s in a chipper mood and always there to support me but today he was off. He looked so spaced out and I haven’t seen him at all since then. I was hoping for some sort of ‘congrats’ I guess. Plus, I’m scared I may have upset him somehow.”

You had sputtered some of the words so fast it took Owen a minute to process. Your anxiety spurred out of haywire as you waited for his response. Once he finally had collected the information and put two and two together, he hadn’t even responded to what you said and instead gasped and blurted, “Oh my god, you’re in love with him aren’t you?”

You couldn't manage to handle another person figuring it out and you froze on spot. A bunch of excuses filled your thoughts but nothing ever managed to come out. So instead you drop your head and offer a small nod to the smart blonde for connecting two and two together. You weren’t the only one now silent, for Owen was now just as shocked and processing what had just happened. Both tried to come up with something to say but fell short until you decided to speak up and say, “It started as a celebrity crush when I was first introduced to the show Charmed and then spiraled as I watched JATP. Now that I’ve gotten closer to him... the feelings aren’t a simple crush anymore. I’ve been trying, and for some reason failing, to keep it on the downlow so that I don’t make things awkward...or worse, ruin what I have with Charlie.”

You sigh and grip your arms before leaning against the wall and continuing, “Today he’s been acting distant with me and I’m not sure what I did wrong.”

Owen stayed silent as you spoke and took time pondering on what he should exactly say. After all, this is a tough situation to be in. “I don’t think it’s you,” he muttered and decided to trail on, “I think he’s just being overworked. Plus he could’ve been worried about your scene looking realistic..like maybe you were genuinely mad.”

You took in his words for a second. He did have a point after all. “Also, to your feelings for him...I was shocked to hear because I assumed it wouldn’t stir up until months later. No offense but you seem to be an oblivious person and I kind of assumed you wouldn’t realize for a while.”

You chuckled and wacked his arm playfully and he laughed as a response. “I think if your feelings become too much, you should talk to someone...or him,” he advised.

“I usually just vent to Jer...and well, now you,” you confessed before finishing with, “If it gets bad I’ll consider talking to Charlie. Until then, this stays between us.”

So now two people knew. Now for Mads to find out. All it takes is for one thing to happen...a failed cast movie night. You had thought of the idea of having a movie night at your apartment with the cast as a way to have a break from set. This allowed for more group bonding without work being involved. You invited everyone, even Charlie. After all, things were fine now. It had been a few weeks since that filming day with Jeremy and at some point Charlie seemed to be alright again. You had originally chosen to drop it and it stayed that way. Now, an hour before the movie night was supposed to commence, your “movie night” group chat buzzed with notifications. Everyone had different excuses for the random bails and last minute decisions. You were disappointed to say the least but accepted the fate. You laid on the couch for a little bit before deciding to pack everything up. That was until you heard a honk come from outside. You saw the familiar vermillion Subaru and the driver’s side tinted window rolled down before a mess of brown waves shot out. The bubbly brunette had a huge smile on his face. That smile of his was contagious and before you knew it your face broke into a large smile as well. You laughed before closing the curtain and rushing to set everything back up.

Soon enough you heard a knock on your door and you hustled to go open the door for Charlie. You whipped the door open and offered the dork a smile before ushering him in. “You didn’t have to go out of your way to come here. Mainly since everyone else bailed.” You said.

He gave you an awkward smile and said, “Yeah...but I wanted to come,” scratching his hair and then finishing with, “Plus it means we can talk about the movie without anyone whining.”

You giggle at him and shake your head slightly. You made your way to the microwave and flopped your popcorn bag into it before pressing the few buttons and starting it. The buzzing sound of the microwave filled the air as you grabbed a drink from the fridge. “Hey,” you called to the brunette that had already made himself comfortable on your couch, “Is there anything specific you want to drink?”

He gave you an answer and you made sure to offer him the drink before getting the popped popcorn from the microwave. You flopped down next to him and grabbed your remote. “Okay so I’m vibing with Halloween movies right now,” You state.

He pops a few pieces of popcorn into his mouth and agrees with the genre. “How about Hocus Pocus?” He offers.

You shake your head no, “I already watched it recently.” He gave you a shocked but pleased look.

“How about….Ooo how about Halloween Town? I grew up with the movies.” You said excitedly. His smile was just as big as yours.

“I grew up watching them too!” He announced gleefully.

So now begins your hours long movie adventure with the two of you. Currently, you both had somehow managed a cuddle position, sadly deemed platonic, where you were lying along his chest and side. You could feel the thumping of his heartbeat as you rested your head in the crook of his shoulder. His breathing was relaxing and kept you from being able to focus on the movie in front of you. At some points within the movie you could feel his thumb tracing circles along your side or arm. Those moments were a lot harder to breathe during and you had a lot of mental battles to make sure you could catch your breath. The snacks were already picked through and your drinks were long forgotten as you appreciated his presence alongside you. His laugh throughout some scenes always seemed addicting to hear and you’d rather listen to that than the movie right now. He always had a smile on his face, especially right now. You both had a good laugh at the cheap SFX makeup and low quality CGI. The acting was always so cheesy but you both couldn’t help but adore the nostalgia. It was nice to have someone else admire a classic with you.

You had moments where you almost could feel his gaze along your features and it took a lot of mental strength to pretend you couldn’t feel the tingles. You were sure you were just imagining things but curiosity kept getting the better of you. So you made a quick glance up at his direction as the movie neared its end. There was a huge smile on your face from the movie moments prior to your realization. Now your eyes met those same intoxicating viridescent ones and the intimate moments began once more. You flashed him a smile before looking back at the movie before you.

At some point at the end you blurted, “You know, if this movie were re-filmed, you would be a much better love interest for the series.” To which he gives you a perplexed look before giving you a crooked grin.

“Why do you say that?” He questioned with a slanted brow.

“Well, because this wouldn’t be the first time you’d be a love interest to a witch,” you started before adding, “as well as you’re amazingly talented at acting as love interests and just acting in general.”

He broke out into a huge grin before excitedly responding, “To be honest, I’d love to star in a remake of a childhood film I enjoyed, so yeah, I wouldn’t mind. I think it’d be fun!”

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride to know he was just as excited at the concept but also because he agreed with you without judgement. However, you could never admit to him that you also would love to see him play one of the love interests Marnie had because you always put yourself in Marnie’s shoes.

Alas, the movie came to an end and he needed to head home for the night. Begrudgingly getting up from the couch, you both had scrambled to pick up the mess you made. After you both finished, you walked him towards the door and you guys bid each other goodbyes, making sure to ask for each other’s phone numbers in advance. You took a deep exhale once the front door shut. It felt like you had been holding in your breath for the evening. You made your way to the bathroom to do your nightly routine before eventually heading to bed. You stayed up most of the night imagining his eyes, the way his chest shifted up and down when breathing, the gentle beating of his heart in your ears, and the laugh that echoed along the walls of your apartment. These thoughts made you feel warm and whole before eventually falling into a deep sleep.

The next day was busy and filled with life as you had more scenes that needed to be filmed. A lot of the cast kept offering you smiles and seemed more chipper than normal towards you. It was eerie and you kept wondering what they knew that you didn't. You could be wrong but it just didn’t feel right. You kept wondering what everyone knew and was doing before bumping into someone. A mess of dark unruly hair flashed into your perspective and you connected the dots as to who it was. Before you could say anything, she beat you to the punch, "I heard from Charlie that you guys had a movie night together,” Madison stated, almost trying to hint at something more. You had a feeling this possibly correlated with what everyone else was wondering or knew. Great, now everyone was beginning to know of your tragic crush on your coworker.

“Oh yeah we did…” You respond with a smile and hope she’d drop it at that.

“Well? What happened? I want all the details!" Mads pressed cheekily.

You begin your woes with Charlie and how the night had played out. Expressing your admiration for the movie, the things you did together, and even the conversation you had about wanting him to play in a remake.

"The way you flirt is shameful," Madison joked.

“Huh,” You questioned. Her saying that confused you because you never said anything about flirting.

“Oh come on, it’s obvious dude,” Mads admitted while elbowing your side with a grin.

“I’m not sure what you mean, Mads,” You argued with a small smile and teasing stare.

“It’s so obvious that you like him! I just didn’t want to say anything because I thought you hadn’t realized yet.” Mads declared with a knowing smile.

It’s sad to say but she was entirely right. You were horrible from keeping your feelings hidden and her realization just proves that statement. Even so, you were getting a good laugh out of this. “Okay okay, yeah I do and yes it is,” you responded to her statements honestly.

“I knew it! I’m just waiting for the marriage proposal and babies now.” Mads responded with a mischievous grin and hearty chuckle.

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing from her honest and wide stretched ideas. You knew there was a lot of teasing coming your way from now on. You were excited to experience it though, she always offered a good laugh and had great advice. Madison was really developing as her own person and was really mature for her age. You admired that in her. It’s just a little sad that you had to get advice and even be called out by a young teen.

Weeks had passed since the whole cast and Mads situation occurred. Currently, you’ve been chatting with Charlie on the daily over the phone. Whether it be a call or simple text, you always had something to look forward to during the day. Hell, you’d get an occasional meme or tiktok sent your way. There were days when you’d even film some tiktok challenges with him for fun. You had a blast whenever he was around and the comment section of both of your accounts were constantly spammed about your guys’ chemistry. Most people were supportive of your friendship and others were quick to ship you guys. You couldn’t deny that you were flustered by the overwhelming support and fanbase sent your way. Charlie always seemed so excited to read or show you the comments that came strolling in after posting anything with you two.

There were multiple times where you’d make eye contact or your faces would be super close together. Your breath would hitch every time and it took a lot to manage your breathing to be normal. You swore up and down this man made you develop asthma. You couldn’t help it, that man took your breath away. The subtle brushes of his hand on your side or arms were never overlooked. Or the way he’d occasionally grasp your hand when directing you somewhere. You noticed all of these little things he did when he was with you. You tried to brush it off as normal but you couldn't help but hope. Mainly when there were a few romantic challenges that you’ve done together online.

The slowburn was killing you. It was near your last few weeks of filming now. You didn’t know what to expect or think anymore. He is openly intimate with anyone he cares about, so it's hard to differentiate platonic from romantic. That was, until he called you randomly on your day off asking something very important. “Hey,” you can hear a small awkward chuckle before he continues, “There's something I need to get off my chest. I’ve been waiting a while to say this...you are always the one at the back of my mind, and I was wondering if I could take you somewhere...like on a date?”

You were silent for a moment. You didn’t expect that type of question out of the blue; let alone from him. Finally you managed to muster up the courage to respond after a few moments of silence, “Uh yeah! Where would we be going and what time?”

“The first part of your question is a surprise, and 8 pm. Dress cute and comfy.” He announced with a cheerful but playful tone.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his cuteness from over the phone. “Okay, I’ll see you then,” You responded with a goofy tone before hanging up.

Now your anxiety was spiraling. You had to figure out what to wear that could fit any occasion since it's a surprise. You knew it wasn’t some fancy dinner. He was more of the spontaneous adventure type for dates, at least, that what you assumed. So instead, you go for a cute pair of jeans, a cute top and flannel, and a few accessories. You paced around your room while contemplating what would occur tonight. You had an hour before he was coming to pick you up and you were trying to buy yourself time. So, you settled for scrolling tiktok and your other social media feeds. All of your content was booming with new likes, follows, and comments. It put a huge smile on your face from all of the support you were receiving before you heard a knock on your front door.

Before you could even say anything, the brunette was already leaning against the doorway and said with the all knowing accent, “How you doin’?”

You couldn’t help but laugh while hurriedly grabbing your keys and saying, “Oh come on Charlie, that’s so cheesy. You used that as a pickup line, really?”

“Hey hey now, they’ll be plenty more before this is over. You might as well accept it,” he cheekily taunts.

While shaking your head and laughing, you make your way out the door and to his vehicle. You see him rush past you to be at the passenger side before you make it and he opens the door as you get closer. You smiled at the thoughtful action and decided not to mention it just yet. You adjusted yourself into the seat before buckling up and looking at the radio. “Hey, could I use the aux cord to play some music?” You ask quickly.

He looks over at you before nodding his head and handing you the cord. You plug it into your phone before shuffling through your playlists to pick a song. All the while Charlie is pulling out of the apartment complex parking zone. Soon you finally manage to pick a song and immediately click it. You adjusted the volume while waiting for the first tune to come out. Soon enough the song began. “Ba ba da da. Ba ba da da. Ba ba da da. Ba ba da da. Ba ba da da”

You were already goofily singing along and tapping the beat along the dashboard. Soon enough the singing began, “Take a look at my girlfriend. She's the only one I got (ba ba da da) Not much of a girlfriend; I never seem to get a lot (ba ba da da, ba ba da da). It's been some time since we last spoke. This is gonna sound like a bad joke, but momma I fell in love again. It's safe to say I have a new girlfriend.”

He was staring at you as he sang along to the lyrics; never breaking eye contact as the song continued. You wondered what it would be like to be called his girlfriend and introduced to his family. You’d never met them before but you hear amazing stories all the time from the bubbly brunette beside you.

“And I know it sounds so old, but cupid got me in a chokehold, and I'm afraid I might give in. Towels on the mat my white flag is wavin'. I mean she even cooks me pancakes and Alka Seltzer when my tummy aches. If that ain't love then I don't know what love is.”

You pondered what it would be like to have breakfast with him or to be around on his sick days. Those were vulnerable moments in a person’s life and it made you crave that even more.

“We even got a secret handshake”

You guys did have a ‘secret’ handshake. It originated sometime during a tiktok because you thought it would be a great filler moment for one of the videos.

“And she loves the music that my band makes”

You adored JATP and Sunset Curve. You listened to the first season’s Now or Never on repeat. You adored anything that had to do with his voice, honestly. Some of his covers on tiktok and Instagram were shamelessly saved. You’d go back and listen to them when you needed a “pick me up.”

“I know I'm young but if I had to choose her or the sun, I'd be one nocturnal son of a gun.”

It was true. If any moments with him meant losing time in the day, it was well worth it. Even so, you both were screaming along to these lyrics and had huge smiles the entire time. The chorus played out the speakers and along the walls of the car once more before continuing with, “It's been a while since we talked last and I'm tryin' hard not to talk fast, but dad I'm finally thinkin' I may have found the one. Type of girl that will make you way proud of your son.”

God, you crave the acceptance of his family. It was eating at you constantly. You weren’t even dating the guy yet and already worried for the day you had to prove yourself to the family that helped him become the man he is today. That’s a lot to handle for someone mentally, mainly if they don’t end up liking you. They’re his flesh and blood and you’d never want to come between that.

“And I know you heard the last song about the girls that didn't last long, but I promise this is on a whole new plane. I can tell by the way she says my name (ba ba da da)”

You pondered for a moment who he might have dated and his love life in general. After all, were you his normal type? Do you have an effect on him? You brushed away the thought as the next lyrics played, “I love it when she calls my phone. She even got her very own ringtone. If that ain't love then I don't know what love is (ba ba da da)”

You smiled at the thought of him possibly looking forward to your random calls about whatever you were thinking about at the moment. You were always excited to receive a call from him. You’d always hear the ringtone for him which was currently set to ‘Yellow’ by Coldplay. After all, he was your yellow. But you did wonder what yours might’ve been on his. Hell, knowing him he’d probably just left it to the generic tone or a funny one.

“It's gonna be a long drive home but I know as soon as I arrive home, and I open the door, take off my coat and throw my bag on the floor. She'll be back into my arms once more for sure.”

You wished for the day you were together and could experience that level of comfort. Hoping for the day you could come home from a tiring day at work and just bask in the comfort of your partner’s arms. You imagined it for a little while longer while the chorus continued once again. You couldn’t help but space out and daydream for a different time. You knew Charlie was probably looking at you like you were crazy for spacing out randomly but you couldn’t seem to break your thoughts away.

“She's got a smile that would make the most senile, annoying old man bite his tongue. I'm not done. She's got eyes comparable to sunrise and it doesn't stop there. Man, I swear, she's got porcelain skin of course she's a 10, and now she's even got her own song. But movin' on, she's got the cutest laugh I ever heard and we can be on the phone for three hours; not sayin' one word. And I would still cherish every moment, and when I start to build my future she's the main component. Call it dumb, call it luck, call it love, or whatever you call it but everywhere I go I keep her picture in my wallet like here.”

You were still in your own little thoughts while these lyrics played. Even when spaced out, you could still see the figure beside you absolutely jamming along to the lyrics like he meant every word. He was so expressive and happy as he sang along. He was in his element and you adored it. You slowly stopped spacing out and focused on the man beside you as he continued to sing along.

Charlie stopped at the red light, just as the last few moments of the chorus played along in the background. You were belting along again and acting out the lyrics in your own charming way. Your hair illuminated from the sun’s warm glare and your skin was shining in an almost ethereal-like way. Your body language screamed serenity and fluidity. He couldn’t help but be enraptured by your free spirit. His gaze was solely focused on you as you sang along, almost as if he was scared to look away for he’d miss a single moment of you. Both parties could feel the positivity and connection radiating off each other. As the song neared its end, you sat back breathless from your little show-stopping performance. You finally turned back to Charlie and you couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed by his expression. It was pure awe and it made you feel flustered. His stare was piercing and shined with adoration. His smile was wider than any other moment you’ve ever experienced with him.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” You asked with a bashful smile while brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

He chuckled before responding, “Can’t I just admire you for a second? I don’t see this often.”

You were confused by his statement at first, that was until you realized what his words truly meant. You had shown a part of yourself that others rarely see, the goofy and open side. Yes, you goofed around with friends and cast members but you still had your timid or closed-off self. However, this is the side of yourself that oozed confidence, and only he got to experience it at this moment. Which was something you’d both treasure from this moment forward. You’d thankfully managed to notice the light had turned green in the nick of time.

“C, the light is green!” You warned but had a huge smile on your face as you said so.

“I know,” he said teasingly while staring at you for a moment longer before driving once more.

You pulled up to the park where you could almost make out something in the distance. It appeared to be a few things laying out on the grass. One of those things being a square shape, probably a blanket. Putting two and two together, you realized it was a picnic date. Your heart swelled at the wholesome idea and admired him for the effort. You hadn’t even seen the entire setup and were already swooning. You look up at him and give him a lovesick smile before he quickly shuffled out of the door and ran to your side. He was a helpless romantic and believed chivalry wasn’t dead. So being the gentleman he was, he opened the door for you and offered you his hand so it would be easier to leave the Subaru. You giggle and say, “such a gentleman.”

He flashes you another smile before saying, “You deserve the world. I may not be able to offer much, but for you, I’ll do anything.”

Your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest at the response he gave you. It wasn’t something you were used to from him. It was endearing, to say the least. You both made your way to your picnic spot. A soft blanket and cute basket were laying out. There was even a bouquet of your favorite flowers and his guitar laying along the grass. All of your favorite snacks and drinks were inside the basket. You were giddy as you looked at everything before you. “This is so sweet, C.” you gushed.

“I wanted to prove to you that I take your heart seriously and that I care.” He seemed shy while he spoke but his eyes were open and honest. He meant every word.

“You have nothing to prove, that you haven’t already, Gillespie.” You teased while softly punching his arm.

He playfully hit back as he responded, “I know but I still wanted to.”

“Fair. Okay, what do you want to do?” You asked.

The poor guy blanked for a moment. He seemed at a loss at your question. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I didn’t think I’d get this far,” he admitted.

You laughed before asking, “Why’s that?”

He chuckled before his face switched to a more serious note, “I always thought of you as unobtainable. You were so interesting and motivated and open to others. I didn’t know if you saw me as anything more than a friend. It started as an attraction but soon I had gotten really close with you and it developed into more. By then I was scared that if I said something, I could lose you.”

You were frozen. You didn’t anticipate this type of response. After all, these are only things you’d experience in fanfiction. It made you feel special. If it wasn’t for the fact that you were in public, you’d probably cry. You’d been dying to hear his side and now you finally have.

“In all honesty, I felt the same way. That you were unattainable, that is.” You responded while looking down.

You kept peering down at the blanket before feeling his hand cup your cheek and tilting your head up. Your eyes met his own before the question left his lips, “And why’s that?” By now if any oxygen was entering your lungs, you damn well couldn’t feel it. His gaze was paralyzing and it took a few moments for you to break away from it. You shifted back a bit to give your heart the break it needed before finally speaking up, “Because. You are you. This lovable and goofy guy. You are adventurous and never take no for an answer. You push others to be their best. You never speak of romance and you always seemed more interested in popular celebrities.”

He chuckled at your response. “Hey! Don’t laugh at me, this is embarrassing to admit,” You whined. You tried to hide the small smile making its way onto your face.

“I’m not laughing at you. Just at the thought that we both thought the other wasn’t interested. I mean come on! Oh, and hey, never be embarrassed to be open with me. I say embarrassing things and do embarrassing things all the time.” He opened up.

“Okay, so what’s one thing you are embarrassed to admit?” You asked curiously. The question honestly intrigued you and his response even more so. Plus, it made it easier to avoid continuing the awkward things you said prior.

“I may have tipped everyone off to not come to your movie night months ago so I could finally have alone time with you,” He answered honestly. You were shocked by two things in that sentence; his boldness and that he had done something like that to gain your attention.

“If you wanted to spend time with me, all you had to do was ask!” you shrieked before pushing his shoulder playfully.

You both were laughing and enjoying the honesty. You never expected him to be the sneaky type and plan something like that. However, it did make a lot of sense looking back. Now it was time for him to ask something, and of course, he continued the intimate questionnaires. “Why did you choose to come with me tonight?” he asked curiously.

He seemed invested by your answer but you could tell by his body language that he was a little antsy. He was brushing his arms and shifting his legs a lot while he waited for you to answer. “I thought, well, for once in my life I should make a decision for myself that would be adventurous, put me out of my comfort zone, and just to let me be happy. I didn’t expect you to ever actually ask me out, but I’m glad you did.” You answered honestly.

He seemed bewildered by your response but still broke out into his heart-stopping grin. You really did know how to blow the man away every time you showed another side of yourself. The questions continued for what seemed like hours and it was now dark out. Even so, the conversation was just as lively and Charlie couldn’t help but stare at you. Your eyes were sparkling from the night’s ever glowing moon. He could only gaze at your face and appreciate your features; your lashes hiding the gleam in your eyes and the soft crinkles of your lids. A hearty chuckle belted out of those lips; the ones he so desperately wanted to kiss. As you continued to banter for the rest of the night, he could never manage to tear his eyes away from your face and he liked it that way.

As the conversation continued and got more intimate so did your closeness. Now, his lips are mere centimeters from you; feeling his breath ghost your lips...and all you could manage to describe this moment as is intoxicating. His eyes drifted longingly between your lips and eyes before you could just barely feel his lips lift into a smirk. Just then when all else felt like it had disappeared around you and the pale moonlight lit up your figures, he grasped your waist and the impossible became possible as his hand gripped you and pulled you into a kiss; one that ignited something inside of you, inside of himself. Others always described having the kiss from “the one” as fireworks but in reality, it felt different. Fireworks are quick and go out just as they start...this was something entirely more addicting. You’d describe this kiss as tingly, but not the type of tingles you feel when cold, instead, something that engulfs your entire body and you can’t help but feel weak to it. You fall prey to the feeling of warmth and lightheadedness it offers. All the while trying to manage to gasp for air while you can hear your heart beating in your ears. You were almost entirely sure he could probably feel your heart beating out of your chest. “Maybe sometimes slow burn is okay for the plot,” you thought to yourself while still locking lips with the Canadian actor. Was it simply luck that caused you to meet him that fateful day...or was it the universe giving you the answers you needed all your life? The answer is...your spark.

[mk-wizard]

Rescue Bots vs. COVID-19: How would it go down?

Hello. This essay is to answer a question asked by the inquisitive @petrichornial​ who raised a question that would make for an interesting scenario that would definitely involve the Burns family and Rescue Bots.

Right off the bat, we know that the bots don’t need to worry about catching it because COVID-19 is a virus that only affects organic people not robotic organisms. However, they can still be carriers as the virus can latch onto them which would require lockdown, safety, distancing and sanitation protocols to apply to them as well to keep humans around them safe. As for the Burns family, Cody would be the one stuck at home while the rest of the family would be required to go out often because they are first responders. In fact, I think all of the kids would be under lockdown which means most communication between everyone would only be digital. The good part is that a lot of things in Griffin Rock are done by machines anyway, so some business and such would still go on, but for people like Huxley Prescott who is a reporter, coffee shop owners and such, their work would suffer immensely.

Though the main focus would be how people are affected socially in which case, the four bots plus some of the townspeople would represent the five categories/issues society faces during COVID-19.

Number one, you have Heatwave who stands for people who are in denial of how much danger COVID-19 poses and how much they openly resent the lockdown and all of the restrictions. He wants to be free to do what he wants and he sometimes shirks protocols like not washing as soon as he comes back, not keeping his distance and becoming stir crazy from being inside so often. He probably become very moody and hard to talk to snapping at everyone.

Number two, you have Blades who stands for the other extreme of people who are taking precautions too far to the point of paranoia and hysteria. He sees COVID-19 as this boogeyman who is going to come get him the instant he takes a foot outside, he would fear going out, he would be afraid to go near anyone even people who are not a danger and have trouble performing rescues because that involves touching or going near people. Blades would probably go as far as thinking he has it or someone around him does prompting him to panic even further.

Number three, you have Chase who stands for the people enforcing the lockdown and safety precautions to the point where he is being too severe. In an attempt to keep people safe, he is fueling the paranoia and actually angering the stir crazy people instead of handling things with a sympathetic touch and common sense. I can even picture a moment where he refuses to let Chief Burns out during a rescue as an attempt to keep him safe, but doesn’t realize that he is endangering the people on scene. I don’t say all this because Chase is bad. It is that he is very lawful and is paranoid, but in a different way from Blades. Chief Burns is an older man making him more vulnerable to COVID-19 and he just wants to protect him, but fails to realize that the virus doesn’t work that way and that Charlie made an oath to help people. I even imagine a moment where Chase forcefully “sanitizes” by spraying them with sanitizer and water anyone who is caught outside including people who are allowed to be out like truck drivers or delivery people. Maybe even the cat Mr. Pettipaws after saving him and even suggesting giving HIM a fine for being outside.

Number four, you have some people who are accepting the lockdown and such, and are at home, but they are becoming extremely complacent to the point of laziness and letting themselves go. People are becoming slovenly, the state of property is being let go, nobody is exercising and take out is at an all time high indicating that people are not eating right either. This raises concerns because while people may not wind up ill because of COVID-19, they will wind up ill because of self negligence and unhealthy lifestyles. Some characters will even wind up gaining weight or dressing like slobs. I can picture mayor Luskey being the guy who just sits around dressing like a slob and becoming fatter which also has a very negative impact on his marriage as his wife becomes disgusting by his laziness and listlessness.

Lastly, we have Boulder who represents the best of us trying to get through COVID-19 and he would be the star of this episode as he would also serve as the voice of reason especially at the end. Boulder is abiding by the rules, but he is being reasonable about it and while staying inside, he is making the most of his time by keeping up with his hobbies and even maintaining the HQ. He even helps Cody get around to taking up cleaning up his own space and even sorting out material things he never got around to before. Boulder would probably even encourage Cody to learn how to keep after himself and the importance of respecting your home. I can even picture this episode bringing in Ratchet as a special guest star since he is a doctor and can give medical advance to everyone, including the bots, for the physical and mental health.

In the end, it would be Boulder along with Cody and Dr. Greene who would bring the town back to its senses by ceasing to be extremes in any directions by reminding them that outbreaks have occurred before throughout history. Moreover, they would inspire the people to be mindful that surviving COVID-19 doesn’t mean anything if we can’t even survive ourselves and that we shouldn’t use the lockdown as an excuse to let ourselves go or cease being productive. This would bring also the other three bots to their senses and give them, especially Heatwave, new purpose by helping people maintain their properties since the bots cannot get sick. Also, Prescott would find new purpose by allowing people to send in how-to videos and other family videos to bring up spirits on his blog. Lastly, some people would even use this chance to at long last use the lockdown to get around to doing things they should have done a long time ago. In the case of mayor Luskey, he finally decides to get up from the couch and exercise alongside his wife hinting that he is on his way to getting in shape and patching things up with her.

As a bonus point, I imagine Doc Greene is using the lockdown to do more than just do experiments. Being the positive person he is, he wants to use the time to be productive so he is trying out all kinds of hobbies though some of them are not working out like singing where he is tone deaf, cooking though his food is worse than Dani’s, and he even attempts things like yoga and knitting. However, he has the right attitude in not sitting around doing nothing and he is still taking care of himself and his home. In the end, he does find a hobby that works for him especially when you consider what his wife does: botany.

And that is my take on how COVID-19 would go down in Rescue Bots. Of course, this is only how I imagine it. I am curious to hear what you think would happen.

Thanks for reading, have a great day and stay safe.

[i-know-my-value-darling]

Supernatural stars reflect on the show's undying legacy

Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles, and Misha Collins discuss 15 years of fantasy, family, and flannel. 

"We only get one shot at this." Sam and Dean Winchester are surrounded. The monster-hunting brothers are standing on the edge of a cliff. They look to Castiel, their brother in arms — or is it wings? — but even he can’t help. One move in the wrong direction could ruin everything. After years of fighting demons, going toe-to- toe with Satan himself, and saving the world multiple times, they once again find themselves in a position of having to perform under pressure. But this situation is unlike anything they’ve ever dealt with before. All eyes are on them as they have one shot…at getting the perfect picture.

It’s a dry, hot August day in Malibu — when people were still allowed to gather outside — as Supernatural stars Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, and Misha Collins prepare for the last setup of their final Entertainment Weekly cover shoot. With a bottle of champagne in each of their hands, Ackles once again reminds them they get “one shot” to do this right. But if their characters can shoulder the weight of the world, surely these three can handle a photo. Read the whole story below

The champagne soaking is meant to be a celebration of 15 years, of making television history. Supernatural, the story of two brothers destined to save the world, is the longest-running genre show in the history of American broadcast television. (So old, the first three seasons shot on this thing called film.) What started as an underdog story, living its first few years on the verge of cancellation, has become an institution, a milestone to which other shows aspire. Supernatural not only survived the move from The WB to The CW after its first season — it’s now the final WB show left standing — but became the backbone of the now highly successful CW network. Over the years, the sci-fi series has aired on every weeknight, helping to launch shows including Arrow and The Vampire Diaries. The network moved it one final time, most recently, to Mondays, to help Roswell, New Mexico expand its audience. “Supernatural is a major link to many of the shows that we have successfully built to market,” The CW’s chairman and CEO Mark Pedowitz says. “Almost every one of our shows has had it as a lead-out or a lead-in.”

And to think, it all started as a promise to bring horror to television. After Supernatural creator Eric Kripke had finished working with Warner Bros. on 2003’s Tarzan series, he pitched the idea of a reporter who travels around hunting urban legends. As he puts it, it was a Kolchak: The Night Stalker rip-off. But when he realized the story would benefit from having brothers at its core, he started writing. “At the time, The Ring and The Grudge were huge hits in theaters,” Kripke remembers. “We said, ‘We’re going to take that experience and we’re going to put it on TV,’ and the initial goal was to be scary.” After Warner Bros. passed on his first, what he calls “uptight,” draft, Kripke had to reassess the kind of show he was creating. “I canceled all my Christmas plans and wrote that second draft in three weeks,” he says. “That was when the show got its sense of humor, because I was locked alone, over winter break, in my office. I couldn’t do anything fun, so I started entertaining myself.”

The show was still scary, but it was also funny and, over the years, would continue to evolve. Sure, you could say it’s a little bit X-Files — in its early days, the show often used the line “The X-Files meets Route 66” — and there were definite Star Wars influences (Sam and Dean were originally based on Luke Skywalker and Han Solo). But no combination of pop culture is going to perfectly describe Supernatural because the show has managed to do something remarkably rare in the age of peak TV, where audiences are so overwhelmed with content that an original idea seems foreign: It’s created a truly one-of- a-kind experience.

For starters, it’s a show about two flannel-wearing, beer-loving, blue-collar dudes from Kansas who for a good chunk of their lives traveled from cheap motel to cheap motel, paying for gas and greasy diner food with a mix of fake credit cards and money they earned scamming people at the pool table. “Almost all television is about rich people or, at the very least, middle-class people,” co-showrunner Andrew Dabb says. “The fact that we’ve been able to take this Midwestern blue-collar approach to this genre feels like we’re breaking the mold.”

But the mold-breaking didn’t stop there. Supernatural might’ve started out as a horror show with some snarky one-liners, but it evolved into some of the boldest, most experimental (and certainly strangest) stories on the small screen. “We’re a show of big swings,” co-showrunner Robert Singer says. “I used to say, with every idea, ‘This will be a home run or they’ll cancel us,’ but every year we wanted to do something really nuts." And when he says nuts, we’re not just talking about the episode with the talking teddy bear or the murderer targeting imaginary friends. Those are just some standard monsters of the week. We’re talking about the black-and-white episode shot like a classic Hollywood monster movie, or the episode that introduced Chuck (Rob Benedict), a prophet — who’d later reveal himself to be God — who was famous for writing a book series called Supernatural. That, of course, led to Sam and Dean attending a Supernatural fan convention as the show continued to redefine what it meant to inject a series with meta humor. And the swings never stopped. Season 13 featured a Scooby-Doo crossover as an animated Sam, Dean, and Castiel solved a case alongside the Mystery Inc. gang. And in season 14, after giving God a sister a few years prior, the show made the Big Man Himself its final villain. “I don’t think any idea, barring some production concerns, has been viewed as too crazy,” Dabb says. “Because we know that our fans are smart and that they’ll follow these guys anywhere.”

So long as each episode features Sam and Dean — and the occasional heartfelt talk on the hood of the Impala — the show can do just about anything, which is another reason Kripke had to rewrite his first draft of the pilot. Originally, Dean was the only brother who knew about monsters growing up, bringing Sam up to speed later in life. It wasn’t until Kripke figured out that they needed to be in this together that the series snapped into place. Because at the end of it all, they’re two brothers bonded by the loss of their mother and a life spent on the road with an absentee father. (It just so happens that their mother was killed by a demon and their father hunted them.) The familial dynamic — the irrational codependency, as the angel Zachariah (Kurt Fuller) once called it — is the most important part of the show. “The first inkling I had that we had something special was shooting the pilot,” Kripke says. “It was the scene on the bridge when Sam and Dean talk about their mother. It was the first time that you really saw their chemistry and their connection as brothers on full display. Because I’ve always said this show begins and ends with whether you believe that sibling relationship.” But Sam and Dean weren’t just the center of the show. For many years, they were the show.

Supernatural has never been an ensemble drama. For the first 82 hours of the series, Ackles and Padalecki were the only long-running series regulars — Katie Cassidy and Lauren Cohan briefly joined for season 3, appearing in 12 episodes combined. But Sam and Dean weren’t just in every episode; they anchored every episode. (They skipped table reads because there would’ve been only two actors there.) “I had many moments of not only questioning, ‘Can I keep this up?’ but an answer of ‘I cannot keep this up,’ ” Padalecki, 37, who’s been vocal about his struggle in the early seasons, says. “I borrowed strength from Jensen.” But even Ackles, 42, admits it was a tough job. “The 23-episode seasons were nine and a half months of filming,” he adds. “It was a lot of work, but I always came back to: I still enjoy it, I still like telling the story, I still like these characters and the people I work with.”

Not only did the guys stick around, they built a reputation of having created one of the warmest sets in the business, with a number of crew members staying with the production all 15 seasons. It all dates back to a talk Kripke had with his stars during the filming of the series’ second episode. “I said, ‘The show is about your two characters, and with that comes this responsibility,’ ” Kripke says. Padalecki remembers the exact setting of what he calls their “Good Will Hunting moment,” a bench in Stanley Park in Vancouver, where they film. It was a chat both actors took to heart. “We’d both been on other sets,” Ackles says. “We knew we wanted to enjoy it, to have fun with our crew; we wanted them to like us and us to like them and to have fun doing what we do.” It’s an attitude Pedowitz hopes bleeds into other CW shows, an attitude that launched an annual tradition where the CW chairman/CEO takes his new casts out to dinner with the Supernatural guys, a chance for the vets to share advice. “It’s always the most flattering situation,” Padalecki says, recalling a moment he had a few years back with the late Luke Perry, who was a part of the Riverdale cast. “Luke was sitting next to me and he was like, ‘What y’all have done and what we hear about you guys, it’s really cool to be associated with y’all in some way, shape, or form,’” he recalls. “And I’m sitting there pinching myself.”

It’s a behind-the-scenes legacy that’s perhaps just as impressive, if not more so, than the onscreen legacy. Collins, 45, who started as a guest star and the show’s first angel in season 4, has become the show’s third-longest-running series regular, and he still remembers walking onto set his first day. “When you’re coming onto a show as a guest star, it can be a little bit nerve-racking,” Collins says. “Coming to this set, it was an immediately different vibe. Think- ing about working on other shows in the future, that’s something that I aspire to bring with me.”

A similar reputation extends to the fans as well. Not only is the #SPNFamily one of the most dedicated fandoms out there, it’s also known to be a pretty nice one. (Not many fandoms can say they’ve helped launch a crisis support network for their fellow fans.) But their dedication isn’t just about seeing what crazy twist God throws at Team Free Will next. Thanks to fan conventions and social media, the viewers are just as invested in the lives of the actors. Supernatural’s not just about the words on the page, it’s about the actors saying them. “When you’re dealing with the public taste, there’s an alchemy of great writing, a great idea, and the close-up that’s required,” Peter Roth, chairman of Warner Bros. Television Group, says. “You need stars who you want in your living room.” And you need stars who want to be in your living room, and who, even after 15 years, care so deeply that they get emotional while taking photos in Malibu.

"It's going to be a long eight months," Ackles declares. Standing on that same ledge, an hour before the champagne shot, Ackles, Padalecki, and Collins walk away from a group hug after unexpectedly starting to tear up. It might be the setting — looking out over the ocean — or the occasion: their last-ever photo shoot. Or maybe it’s the fact that they’re almost a month into filming their final season.

It had been a question posed to the stars for years: How long will this show continue? How long can it continue? “Even my mom and dad were like, ‘When are you going to be done with this?’” Ackles says with a laugh. It was a decision the network and studio had ultimately put into the actors’ hands, and it was a conversation they’d been having for a while. Back in 2016, Padalecki told EW, “If we don’t make it to [episode] 300, I think Ackles and I will both be truly bummed.” But in season 14, they hit 300…and then kept going. While filming episode 307, they announced the upcoming 15th season would be the end, which will bring them to a total of 327 episodes when all is said and done. “[Jared] and I were always married to the fact that we never wanted to go out with a diet version of what we had,” Ackles says. “We wanted to have enough gas left in the tank to get us racing across the finish line. We didn’t want to limp across.” Padalecki remembers the moment it hit him — not the decision to end it, but rather the opposite. “We had that moment where he and I both realized that we didn’t want it to end,” he says. “It finally got to a point, ironically, where it was like, ‘I never want to leave this. I could do this until the day I die, and then if I get the choice when I’m dead, I’ll re-up!’ But you never want to be the last person at a party. We just knew. That’s not to say there haven’t been vacillations, but we all trust the decision that was made.”

Starting in July 2019, the cast and crew returned to Vancouver to begin filming the final season, but in March 2020, with two episodes left to go, they were sent home. For years, fans had wondered what, if anything, could stop the Winchesters, and now it seems we have the answer: a global pandemic. As sets closed amid social-distancing measures due to the spread of COVID-19, it didn’t take long for fans to start connecting the dots, sharing relevant GIFs from episodes that featured viruses, most notably Chuck telling Dean to hoard toilet paper “like it’s made of gold” before the end of the world in season 5’s “The End.” (Did we mention that Supernatural is also kind of psychic? In a season 6 episode, Dean calls Sam “Walker, Texas Ranger,” which just so happens to be the role Padalecki has lined up after this ends.)

When production paused, it all felt a little like we were living in an episode of the show, just waiting for Sam and Dean to drive up in Baby, open those creaky doors, and save us. They might not be able to do quite that, but the thing with the Winchesters is that they never stay down for long. When Supernatural is able to safely resume production, it will. And though there are only two episodes left to film, fans will enjoy a total of seven unseen hours, including the return of Charlie (Felicia Day) and a mystery woman who visits the bunker and, for some reason, gives Sam and Dean all the holidays they never got to celebrate. “She makes Christmas for them and Thanksgiving, birthday parties, and all that. It’s a very good episode,” Singer says, adding, “I don’t know when it’s going to air.”

That’s the thing—no one knows, not even the guys who took out Yellow Eyes, stopped Leviathans, defeated Death himself, and are supposedly destined to be the messengers of God’s destruction. But Sam and Dean do know the value of a good plan B. “Obviously it’s a horribly unfortunate situation we’re in, but the silver lining is that it gives us an opportunity to recharge,” Ackles says. “We had just finished episode 18, we shot one day of episode 19, and I was reading these two monster scripts thinking, ‘It’s like we’re at the end of a marathon and they want us to sprint for the last two miles.’ I feel like this almost gives us an opportunity to refocus and go into the last two episodes and hit them with everything we got.” Because when they do return to set, shave their quarantine beards, and step back into Sam and Dean’s shoes for the last time, they’ll have one shot at ending this thing…and they’re determined not to miss. 

Photos: Peggy Sirota for EW 

https://ew.com/tv/supernatural-stars-cover-ew-to-reflect-on-the-shows-undying-legacy/

[silverynight]

Welcome home

"You can stay in my house," he quickly offers before Tina can say anything; it's inevitable... He's not sure why he did that. He knows everyone in his office is looking at him now, but he doesn't tear his eyes away from Newt. "I... don't have a–what I mean is that it'd be more easy for you that way. I know auror Goldstein has a landlady who doesn't want men in her building, so..."

"You're right!" Newt finally says, grinning from ear to ear. "Thank you, Mr. Graves."

Once he knows Newt is gonna stay with him, Percival relaxes, although he regrets looking at Goldstein's surprised expression and Seraphina's smirk.

Newt is his friend's brother, of course he wants to help him; Percival is not that strict as people usually thinks.

"So you come from a tropical country?" He mumbles to make conversation and distract Seraphina from whatever is in her mind.

"How do you know that?" The magizoologist looks back at him, intrigued.

"You have more freckles now than the last time I saw you," the Director observes, ignoring the way Seraphina quirks up a brow at him. Her attitude starts getting on his nerves.

Of course he'd notice! He's an auror, besides... It's more than obvious... It's not like he's the only one who has noticed that–

"Oh!" Newt looks surprised, before his expression turns into something more calm. He chuckles. "You're right, the sun must have done that."

Ridiculously happy to know he made him smile, Percival can't help but grin in return; the glimmer in his eyes stays there even after Newt gets out of the office to follow Tina and say 'hello' to her sister.

"Good luck!" Seraphina smirks again, prompting Graves to narrow his eyes at her.

"What do you mean?"

Instead of answering, she walks out of the room.

***

It's not easy at first; some of the creatures in Newt's case escape from it every now and then and destroy a few of Graves's things.

He's a little bit irritated at first, but he quickly repairs most of them and even learns how to put protective spells around his stuff. He also stops the Niffler a few times before he can steal his watch.

Newt is embarrassed; Percival notices in the way his blush spreads down his neck every single time.

Sometimes he wonders how far that blush goes and then he shakes his head to ignore those thoughts.

"I'm not mad, Newt." He says sincerely, but the magizoologist insists on doing something for him in return and the next time Graves comes back home the dinner is ready.

Without realizing what he's doing, Percival starts going back home earlier than usual. Mostly to help Newt with his creatures.

He finds out he has a couple of dangerous and highly illegal beasts inside his case, but Newt is so happy and excited about them, Graves decides not to make a comment on the situation; he even gives Newt a permit for his whole case, praying nobody else knows what's inside.

"Glad to know you don't stay here late anymore; you deserve to sleep like a normal person," the President says the next time he sees him.

Percival doesn't utter a word in return because by the way she's smiling, he feels like it's some kind of trap.

"You look happier now."

Graves narrows his eyes and walks towards the entrance, feeling a little bit impatient out of the sudden. He wants to see Newt.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

***

Even though the Director swears it's not necessary, Newt makes coffee for him. The first couple of times it's a disaster, but the magizoologist learns quickly and in a couple of days Percival becomes addicted to the coffee he makes.

Then, Newt starts making more so Percival can take it to his office too.

Sometimes Newt even goes to MACUSA to help them with a few cases and Graves takes him out to dinner at the end of the day before they go home.

***

"I need a few days off," he says and even though in other circumstances Seraphina's reaction would have amused him, he's too worried to smile.

"Days off? You?" The president chokes on her coffee, staring at him almost with shock.

"Newt's sick," he blurts out, hating those words. No, it's nothing to worry about, but he knows that man will keep working and tiring himself until he passes out if Percival doesn't do something quickly.

He wants nothing more than to be at his side.

"Oh, I'm sorry," there must be something on his face because Seraphina looks concerned too. Although when Graves mumbles that it's just a cold, she relaxes. "He'll be fine, Percival. But I understand... Of course you'd like to take care of him. Go then, you can take as many days as you want.

"Thank you."

It takes a lot of persuading, but Graves manages to convince Newt to stay in bed (mostly because the magizoologist is exhausted) while he takes care of the rest.

The creatures trust him enough at this point so it's not that difficult to feed them before returning to Newt's side and see if he needs anything.

When he notices he's asleep, Percival smiles fondly, he touches his forehead and realizes the potion he made is working after all.

Newt is back on his feet a couple of days later with a huge smile on his face that makes Percival feel weak at the knees for a second.

"Thank you, Percy," he mumbles before giving him a hug.

Graves comes back to MACUSA grinning like an idiot.

***

Just a couple of days later, the realization of what's going on with him hits him in the face.

"Welcome home, Percy!" Newt beams; sleeves rolled up, messy hair and freckles that always look like beautiful stars. "I'm making dinner!"

Percival Graves freezes on his own doorway, mesmerized, wondering if there's something wrong with his heart. Then he realizes in shock, noticing how exhausted he is, that he just wants to take Newt in his arms and give him a kiss on the lips.

He's in love with his best friend's little brother and he can't do anything about it.

So that's the reason why Seraphina looked at him with a smirk on her face every time Percival mentioned Newt. She knows.

"How was your day?" Newt asks, beautiful and somehow impossible to reach; he's like a ray of sunshine and Percival has never felt so cold or lonely in all his life.

"Busy," he groans, already regretting how stiff he sounds, Newt deserves to be treated gently. He needs to be treated like he's the most important thing in the world.

Because he's the most important thing to Percival.

The magizoologist doesn't seem to notice or just doesn't mind. He keeps grinning.

"You must be tired," he comments. "Tina told me you have a couple of difficult cases in your hands. But I know you can handle them, I haven't met an auror as determined as you are."

Percival looks up at him; it's almost painful to stare at Newt. His heart keeps acting like a crazy idiot inside his chest and he knows he wants to come home to this for the rest of his life.

The problem is that Newt is just his friend.

"I..."

"I'm here for you, if you need me."

I need you, I want you. Please stay with me. The thoughts are begging to rush out of his mouth, but Percival remains silent.

"Thank you," he says instead and they both eat in silence, although Percival is internally screaming.

Love is not as easy as it sounds. As everyone makes it sound.

***

Newt is leaving tomorrow. He needs to go to Brazil and Percival doesn't know when he'll come back.

He needs to do something. Seraphina thinks he should tell him everything, but Percival is not sure how he'll react.

He doesn't want to scare him away.

Graves sits on the couch pretending he's reading a book while Newt walks around the room, explaining everything he needs to do in Brazil to Pickett. The bowtruckle doesn't like the idea of traveling again.

Percival watches, knowing he'll miss that too and everything about Newt Scamander.

"Maybe you should stay," he blurts out while he curses internationally for saying such thing.

"But I need to trave–"

"Sorry, Newt," Percival is blushing and flustered now, looking at his own lap instead at the magizoologist. "I didn't mean it like that. I just... If you want, you can come back here as soon as you finish whatever you have to do there. You can stay here when you're not... traveling."

It's ridiculous. He feels absolutely ridiculous; babbling like a teenager in love.

Perhaps there's something else in his eyes or it's the way he turns his head up to look at him, because Newt's freckles disappear under an adorable blush.

"Do you want me to... move in with you?"

Even though there's a possiblity his answer ends up scaring the magizoologist away, Percival doesn't see the point in denying what it's obvious.

"Yes," he rises from his seat to finally meet his gaze. "I... I'm not trying to pressure you into doing something you don't want to. We could... still be friends, but I'd like to start a relationship with you..."

For a moment, Newt freezes and Percival is almost sure he just ruined everything and is more than ready to apologize when the magizoologist takes a step forward and smiles shyly at him.

"I like the idea," he mumbles, like he's afraid that his words cloud ruin the moment.

"Do you really?" It's a dream, Percival is sure of it... At least he is until Newt puts his arms around his neck and nods.

And then he kisses him on the lips. Graves can't help it, he's wanted to do that since Newt came back to New York that he can't help but kiss back desperately, with a starving passion.

"I still have one day left before I go to Brazil," Newt mumbles over Percival's lips, already pulling him towards the bedroom. Pickett quickly runs towards the case.

"You're right," Graves whispers with hunger, taking Newt's vest off.

Percival wakes up with a grin on his face and a beautiful man next to him. He leans to kiss Newt's shoulder before he finally wakes up and the Director hears him for the rest of the morning about moving in with him as soon as he comes back from Brazil.

A huge smile quirks up the corners of his lips as Percival thinks that his expression will probably confuse a few people in MACUSA that day.

But he doesn't care, he's too happy to think about that.

***

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[struwwelzeter]

Ok, here it is. This is one of my all time favorite interviews. It doesn’t really contain anything new, and I am still convinced it has been translated before, but that is beside the point. He is so chatty, and I get the impression he was quite at ease with the interviewer, and he’s just and adorable dork. I gave up on trying to capture his “voice” pretty fast because it’s impossible. Maybe it’s because I know how he sounds when he speaks english, but he’s ... a bit of a hazard, in that he sounds dumb one minute and sophisticated the next, and some of the things he says are actually not translateable, so I just concentrated on trying to get what he says across and gave up on the how.

Interview with Richard Kruspe of Emigrate and Rammstein

by Marcus Schleutermann of Rock Hard Magazine, August 22, 2008

—-

Richard, where and in what kind of circumstances did you grow up?

Until I was seven I lived in a small village called Weisen. That was a beautiful childhood with alot of nature, cats and dogs and a big family with two siblings. Then the big break came unfortunately, with the divorce of my parents. My father was gone from one day to the next, and we moved in with my stepfather in Schwerin. We didn’t ge on at all. The situation between me and him escalated quite a bit and I often ran away from home quite often. Sometimes I slept on park benches or in a friend’s basement and was looked for by the police. When there was the chance to start an apprenticeship somewehre else I jumped on it right away and went to Hagenau. Since there was nothing there other than a big army base, I did nothing but spend two and a half years worth of sparetime playing guitar. Looking back, I have to say that my stepfather at least taught me basic discipline. I profit from that by now, because as a musician there is no outside obligation to sit down and compose every day.

Where would you most like to live?

At the moment, I live both in Berlin and in New York. I like that duality. New York has a unique energy that drives me. I never really warmed up to Berlin on the other hand. When I first came here, the negative attitude of the people here totally spooked me. It’s always a no at first. Apart from that it’s pretty cold here. But by now quite a few things have changed for the better, especially this refreshing multiculti-thing, which of course doesn't only work between germans and turks, but between all sorts of nationalities. I would most like to live in Cape Town. You have the mountains on one side and two oceans on the other. The people are open and friendly and there is a very beautiful light that is good for my mind. (I feel obligated to say that he uses the word «Gemüt» which could also mean mood or soul and kind of means all of those 3 things at once.) I can imagine that as a retirement retreat.

Were you more of nerd or a bruiser in school?

I think that goes without saying - quite a bit of a bruiser.

So you did end up in brawls now and then.

Certainly. At the age of 10 to 14 I got into situations all the time where I - lets say - could let loose physically. But when I started wrestling I learned how to chanel my aggressions. I trained 5 times a weekand had competitions on the weekends. Unfortunately I was way too offensive most of the time and had no patience while fighting. I wanted victory right away, like tyson.

Are your parents proud and of you?

I think my biological father is very proud of me. My mother always wanted something else for me, but by now my muscian’s life is okay for her. At the end of the day it doesn't matter what you do, as long as you are successful. Especially for the post-war generation of my parents materialistic value is still held above evrything.

So what does money mean to you?

Essentially, only the freedom to be able to do what I like to do. Money means independency to me most of all. The problem with that is of course that you get used to a certain level of luxury and lifestyle. When I earned the first bit of money with Rammstein I was in seventh heaven and thought I would never need more. With my two apartments in London and Berlin and the constant travelling I need a bit more nowadays.

How do you define success?

Success is relative. With Emigrate I got great reviews, sold a good number of albums worldwide and got releases in America and Australia. Therefore, I could assess my solo project as a success, but in comparison with Rammstein, who sell millions, Emigrate are small fry.

What was the most miserable job you ever had?

The worst job was window cleaner, because I suffer from vertigo a bit [laughs]. Initially I was a truckdriver, but I lost my license after an accident. After that the company deemed I was supposed to become a window cleaner and climb up the Schwerin television tower. No way! I just put up the ladder for them and told them: See you later! (He actually uses english for the see you later. More impactful, you see.) To get by, I made shoes myself and sold them. Espardrilles and the likes. That is funny, because I am actually not talented in crafts at all. But I am streetwise and inventive when it comes to survival. I always had to improvise to get by because I couldn't handle authority at all. As a teenager I apprenticed to be a cook/chef (Same word in german. Probably more a cook than a chef to be honest here.) That's a tough job going off the tough hours alone. Apart from that it gets quite hot by the stove after a while.

That is not that different with Rammstein’s pyro show.

Quite true, hahaha! I believe cooking and making music has so much in common anyway. I have always cooked without a recipe. I just take what is there and conjure up something delicious. Some things maybe don't fit that well in the beginning, but you learn that quite quickly and then you develop an intuitive sense. That is the same with composing.

What would have become of you, if you hadn’t become a musician?

Hm, good question. I would like to produce a band some time - so kinda switch to the other side. Other than that I love to write and could imagine screenwriting would be a suitable job for me.

Speaking of Hollywood, how about being before the camera? Are there characters you would have loved or love to play?

Two characters I find brilliant: Taxi Driver and Leon the Professional. And those gangster flicks are cool. Goodfellas and Reservoir Dogs for exemple.

So more the underdogs and the villains - not the heroes.

Yes, they just have more potential. After I shot some erotic scenes for a video the other day I could also imagine doing an entire film in that direction. I was quite nervous in the beginning, but the longer we were shooting the more fun I had. Erotic, mind you, not pornographic.

So, you’d undress for Playgirl?

Not anymore [laughs]. Although probably not before either. I do have a pretty easy going relationship with my body and run around naked in my apartment alot, but then I am not that exhibitionistic that I'd strip for some glossy magazine.

So you’re a at-home nudist.

Yeah, that's an east thing, I think. When I opened my apartment door in New York naked once when the door rang while I was in bed with my then wife, she was completely bewildered. The shameless ossis (east germans) and the prudish americans - that was a meeting of the worlds. [laughs]

Are you vain?

Unfortunately, yes. I'd like to be more above that because vanity is a negative quality that has something to do with insecurity and ego. I work on myself and as I got older I luckily developed a more casual attitude. At some point you start to accept the degredation of the body.

Theoretically you could counteract that with plastic surgery. How about an appointment with Nip/Tuck, hm?

That's not something for me, but I don't have anything against plastic surgery. If people are unhappy with their body and gain new self esteem and sense of life through an operation, they should go through with it. I do see a problem in the danger of it getting exorbitant and to develop some kind of addiction like with tattoos that goes far beyond the reasonable. The body won't go along with everythig after all, and such things as calf implants are pretty crazy.

Speaking of crazy, what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?

That must have been asking a woman to marry me two days after meeting her. She said yes, and the rest is history. (They are divorced at this point, as the article points out here - in brackets too.)

Cue: Woman: What type do you prefer?

Like almost everyone I do have some sort of type. You need a relationship that mirrors yourself and to develop. So in that sense you're looking for a partner that drives you forward in certain aspects. To have a good relationship you need to keep a balance of passion and friendship - if it's just one it will overturn at some point.

What do you think of groupies?

They just belong to it all. This symbiosis of star and groupie is like theater. The relationship between both has of course nothing to do with reality, and is just an illusion, but you shouldn't destroy that. I'm personally not really tempted by groupies because I like it when I have to fight for a woman. But I like the glamour their presence emenates.

Do you believe in god or reincarnation? Are you spiritaully inclined?

More and more. I don't believe in god in a church sense, but I'm a spiritual guy and believe in a form of justice; that the things we do come back to us in some way eventually. Karma, so to speak. I also have the slightly feminine habit of using astrology to understand people. I use it as a tool to decipher characters. Once you know how someone's house is build, it's easier to place their actions. To be clear: I don't mean horoscopes or such nonsense. There's alot of maths in astrology and you can't compare that with the usual star-sign pulp in TV programmes.

Could you live without television?

Nah. I have a huge beamer in my New York apartment's bedroom. I love lying in bed, smoking and watching good movies more than anything. That is the only thing where I can really switch of other than sex. Lots of both, please. [laughs]

Reading isn't your thing?

I used to read alot, but now I'm unfortunately too lazy for it most of the time. Even on the plane you get a monitor and a huge selection of movies since a while now. But I still have a good reading recommendation: The New York trilogy by Paul Auster.

What's the most important invention for human kind?

Each century has it's own big invention and right now that is clearly the internet. Before that it was electricity, which made everything else like the light bulb and the elctric guitar even possible.

To which era would you most like to travel if there was a time machine?

I guess the sword and blade time as I always call it. Knights templar, 11th century. I can answer that this well, because I like to watch even stupid movies when they deal with that period. I just have a huge affinity to it somehow and would love to find out how things were going back then.

Do you have a phobia?

Other than the aforementioned fear of heights I have a phobia of snakes.

When did you cry the last time?

Now you got me. That is a huge problem of mine because I just can't cry. I think that is a pity myself, because crying is an outlet with which you let grief go. Maybe that's why my music is so important to me, it's like my tear duct and helps me to live out my feelings.

——————-

- sorry for any spelling mistakes but I’m dyslexci and I can’t be bothered.

[leejihoonownsmyheart]

Click, Click

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4 , 5 , 6 , 7, 8 , 9 , 10 , 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29 

Chapter Thirty:

The worst part about being crazy was the way people acted when they realized you were crazy.

People always treated you oddly. Some as if you were as fragile as glass, others treated you like the most precious thing in life. Overall no one treated you the right way. You weren’t some trophy to be won, only to be kept up on a shelf for the rest of your life.

You weren’t some token that helped people achieve things in their lives, and yet you were constantly fighting for basic human recognition. People always treated you differently and then the minute they put together the pieces of why... They gave you the look.

You couldn’t stand it. Not because it came from strangers or form people in your life that meant practically nothing to you. But because it always came from people who knew you. People who should be able to understand. But no one ever did.

Instead, they made their realizations and they looked at you... Like they were scared of you and it was terrifying.

It was terrifying to see them stare at you and make the realization that you were unhinged, and you would do whatever you felt was necessary to protect the people you cared about. And that terror that gripped your heart when someone looked at you scared just made you angry.

This was a close friend who was supposed to love you, to trust you unconditionally. But instead, they were terrified of you. They didn’t trust you in the least.

And on top of that, they would proceed to compare themselves to you- Something you may not have minded were in not for that damned look. The one that told you the people that you cared about the most and would die for, didn’t care about you in that way in the slightest.

“You’re what?”

You hadn’t been thrilled to meet the CEO of Pledis.

After all, he was the man who made thirteen of your favorite people in the world work harder then they needed to. The man who put so much stress on those same thirteen people that you felt like most people had to worry about them too much. And he was the man, who didn’t seen to appreciate how hard the boys worked for him.

He promoted Nuest badly, and he let Pristin break up and he did a number of things you simply didn’t agree with.

And the fact that these awful decisions still got made despite the fact that Seventeen was there fighting for their futures under the company made you realize that he must be a difficult man to pick a battle with and win.

So standing before him, hand in hand with Jihoon- heart thumping in your chest at the prospect of him saying something about you that you didn’t want to hear or convincing Jihoon that he didn’t need you in his life or something terrifying like that was pretty much all you were thinking as you looked at the man.

“I’m dating y/n,” Jihoon repeated firmly. He wasn’t as scared of the situation as you were. INfact you noted that you hardly ever saw him scared. He was a fairly easy-going person it seemed. Hard to nudge towards any extreme unless he was with the boys and he was really happy. “And Carats found out, and now you need to make an announcement that we are dating.”

He paused and shrugged, tugging you closer to his body.

“Or I will.”

The threat in the air sent a very real chill through your body despite the fact it was rehearsed. Seungcheol’s plan of course. Jihoon was going to play the hard ball- be stubborn and unwavering- and you would be less so to make the CEO like you, and maybe possibly not insist you two break up.

“He doesn’t mean that!” You interrupted, a nervous laugh bubbling in your chest. “He just means that we need to do something before things blow up.”

The CEO’s face only got redder and redder as you two spoke, the anger clearly growing. It made you tighten your grip on Jihoon’s hand unsurely- and you felt Jihoon mirror that reaction.

“What do you two think that you can do? Just come here and demand I do what you want so you love birds can stay together?” He asked. “Did Seungcheol tell you to do this? Jihoon you know the rules of dating.”

Jihoon opened his mouth to argue with the CEO but you placed a hand over his free hand to stop him from doing so.r

“Look other idols have been able to manage without much backlash,” you stated softly. “The world is changing. Don’t you think that maybe-”

“No.”

He slammed his hands down on his desk, a serious expression crossing his face.

“You two are going to break up. Jihoon is getting suspended from the group- I can’t tell you what comeback he’ll be allowed back in but studio songs and everything? That’s definitely being taken away from you-”

“We aren’t breaking up. Carats won’t like an album written by someone else. Who are you going to hire?”

“Bumzu,” the CEO fired back. “He’s wrapped around my little finger all I have to do is say the word.”

“If you take away my song writing I will leave this company, and Seventeen will follow me.”

“Do you think anyone is going to want to have to manage a group of thirteen children one of which broke a rule he knew was there just for some foreigner to seduce him?”

Your mouth fell open at the insult to your own proud but you weren’t angry about that. You were angry about something else that he had said.

“Do you really think that Seventeen needs you?” You blurted. The CEO looked surprised by the outburst, as did Jihoon. “They don’t need you. Nor will they ever need you. They could manage themselves on their own and even if they did not a company they could always just go to PSY Nation who I know for a fact would be able to handle them better then you do.”

The CEO opened his mouth but the reddness was draining from his face- he knew you were right.

“Without Seventeen your entire company will crumble. They’re the majority of your income, and you’ve proven again and again that you can’t handle managing groups. If you don’t let us handle this situation it could mean the collapse of this shitty company- and that only sucks for one person and that’s you.”

Silence fell over the room at your words and Jihoon looked between you and the CEO wondering what was going to happen next. Finally the CEO sighed heavily and he clicked a buzzer on his desk.

“Get me on the line with every news network in the city that cares,” he said over the buzzer. “Lee Jihoon of Seventeen has a girlfriend.”

-

You hadn’t thought it was possible for a weekend to be as chaotic as this one, but everything sort of flew off the rails at that point.

You spent literally every second with Jihoon, his fingers tightly knitted with yours. You two went from interview to interview to do damage control and explain to everyone in Korea that you were dating. It wasn’t the most fun. Korean’s were mean.

Each and every little word out of their mouths was a chip at your intelligence, at your appearance, at you and Jihoon didn’t really seem to notice.

“I never imagined that was the sort of girl that would be your type,” One host joked.

“I thought foreigners were supposed to be prettier.”

“She’s not really... Much is she.” You honestly didn’t really think you had ever felt more insulted in your life, and that was saying a lot considering that you pretty much didn’t trust that anyone in your life actually thought that you were doing anything right.

But despite your anxieties, you kept to yourself, reminding yourself that all would be alright- in time. Jihoon had done a lot for you. Whether he thought he had or not, and this was the least you could do for Jihoon.

No- It was everything that you had to do for Jihoon. If you didn’t do this, you didn’t deserve the right to be his girlfriend. You just needed to breath evenly, and trust Jihoon.

It was weird, you had to admit, going out with a facemask and a hat on. After only doing it a few times, you decided to just stay at Jihoon’s instead of leaving every night, and frankly no one was protesting.

“What if... You and Jihoon did a choreography together?” Soonyoung suggested as your feet dangled over Jihoon’s lap. You looked over at the boy, who wasn’t even looking at you. Instead, he was toying around with a tiger plushie.

“Sounds fun,” you said, but you didn’t really mean it. It sounded like busy work. Something that you could completely submerge yourself in and let take over you as you waited for this all to end. “What dance should we do?”

“Rewrite the Stars,” Jihoon replied. You were surprised by his immediate response, but you didn’t say that.

“Alright,” you agreed. “Rewrite the stars.”

It seemed fitting as a song for you two to do but you couldn’t help but notice after your millionth watch that it seemed really difficult. You had to be really emotive, and have a lot of control over your body. Not only that, but it mostly had the girl as the center it was barely a duet, and more a solo.

“I don’t know about this one Jihoon,” you mumbled. “It seems...” “You can do it,” Jihoon interrupted. You gave him a pressed look and turned the computer to show him what you were looking at.

“You see that move, ten seconds in I absolutely can’t do that,” you insisted. Jihoon didn’t even look at the screen.

“Not with that attitude you can’t.”

“And,” you continued, deciding to ignore his indifference. “Yoojung Lee is a really emotional dancer. I can’t be even half as emotive as she is.”

Jihoon glanced over at you an incredulous expression on his face.

“Do you even know yourself?” He asked. You opened your mouth to inform him that you did, and that was how you knew that you would not be able to do this dance, and that he thought too highly of you, but before you could say that, Jihoon contined speaking: “You can easily do this. You’re just as good as Yoojung Lee.”

Such a statement was equally comforting and discomforting at the same time.

You really liked that Jihoon was so confident in your skills as a dancer. You had always wanted to be with someone who was a big supporter of you and everything that you did. After all, you were, deep down, rather ambitious. You liked to do a lot of different activities that you needed to be good at. You didn’t often yield much support from people outside of:

“Oh, you can almost do it as well as me” or with some digging for it maybe a: “That is really good actually.” Neither of course being an ideal situation.

You supposed in a why, Jihoon had picked a perfect song.

You didn’t think it was possible for you to dance with someone like Jihoon. You thought the fans would rip you to shreds, and you would do the dance moves wrong, and you would mess up, but Jihoon was right there.

Maybe if Jihoon thought you could do it, everything really would be okay.

The dance itself required a lot of body control. Outside of facials and fluidity, the biggest command from the dance was being able to move yourself limb by limb. It wasn’t an easy feat for most people, much less you. The dances you did didn’t often require such control, and generally when you did dances it was with a large number of other people so your control wasn’t focused on.

But with this song, it would only be you and Jihoon, and rotated through a few members of Seventeen in the background to show their support, so you would have to be perfect.

The first thing that you had to focus on was the arm movement only a few seconds in the dance. Turning over your left shoulder, and drifting your hands through the air was easy. But making your arms wave so fluidly was going to be difficult.

Luckily, past that, and making sure each move looked clean, the hardest part of the dance could be overlooked. Soojung was a very thoughtful choreographer. She hit a lot of the beats in the song that many people missed.

That made it easier to follow her dance movements, because it was like you could feel the way the dance was supposed to go while watching her and hearing the music.

You turned over your shoulder, hands touching your head as you waved them down. The song practically reverberated through your body as you waved your arms in a ripple. Each movement, coming to you faster and easier then you had thought it would.

“You look great,” Jihoon complimented as you too hit the final pose, his shoulder brushing against your back. You looked back at him.

“I could be better. You make it look so easy.”

You knew that you were being hard on yourself but you hadn’t become a dancer that Jihoon thought could actually do this stuff without working hard.

You flipped over your shoulder, your back to Jihoon’s as you turned your hands in, and began to flutter your fingers. Each dance move making you feel more and more tired. You were getting a lot better, but good enough for the Carats? You weren’t sure.

“I’ll call the boys in and we’ll film,” Jihoon suggested. You turned to him, a nervous smile on your lips.

“Can we film tomorrow?” You asked. “I just know I can get it, but tomorrow for sure.”

Jihoon relented, and stayed in the practice room with you all night while you practiced.

-

With a formal introduction of you and Jihoon’s relationship in the form of a dance cover posted on the internet, you felt a little bit better about everything. The hope was that seeing you and Jihoon dance together would be enough to make Carats relent with the backlash you two were receiving.

It wasn’t the worst backlash you could be facing. Carats were pretty considerate, but there was still backlash, nonetheless.

“You doing okay?” Jihoon asked you softly. You turned off your phone, wishing you hadn’t been looking at yet another article about you two.

“Yeah,” you lied. Jihoon sighed.

“We need to get you out of these dorms,” Jihoon mumbled. “You’re getting sad again.”

He was right. You hadn’t felt very good in the last little while, and nothing that you usually did was helping you to feel better. Being close to Jihoon was only going to help so much.

“We can’t going anywhere,” you stated softly.

“Sure we can,” Jihoon replied. “We’ll just go grab something to eat. See the night lights.” You knew ultimately it was a bad idea, but you let Jihoon convince you into it anyways. He was so happy by the idea of running out and grabbing some Ramen and taking a walk in the park that it made you happy to think abot as well.

You thought maybe everything would be okay.

It of course wasn’t. As soon as you got out on the streets the two of you were swarmed by people.

And Suddenly, you felt... Nothing.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t expected really. Walking out of a building to be surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of people all tuned in to you and what you were doing. You had always imagined it would pull your brain in too many different directions. So much so that you ended up being dumb to what was actually happening. You thought you would get overwhelmed.

Instead, your brain just... Stopped being able to focus on anything.

You couldn’t hear what people were saying. You couldn’t see what people were doing. In fact you weren’t even really sure anymore where you were or who was near you. Your brain just stopped processing everything.

You knew that there was an angry crowd of people there. You knew that you needed to be responsible and own up to all of the sneaking around that you and Jihoon had been doing. You knew that you needed to be strong, and not shut down, bu...

There was nothing. You just suddenly felt like you had stopped existing.

Until warm fingers wrapped around your wrist.

And then you were brought into reality.

Well, a sort of reality.

Jihoon wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his body. He was quiet and calm despite it all and most importantly, was as gentle as he needed to be. Your heart, strangely enough, was beating out of control. Your body was stable, you weren’t scared.

It was strange to think that you felt safe here with Jihoon, despite everyone that was around you. But you were.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, and in response he pulled you closer, his lips burying themselves in your hair.

“I love you,” he mumbled.

“No matter what,” you agreed softly.

You didn’t need the affirmation, but you did appreciate it. It was nice to hear that you were loved as often as Jihoon felt like it needed to be said. He really did know you well, you supposed.

As you two stood there, finding solace in the eye of a storm, you noticed that the carats at the edge of the circle had stopped screaming. They were no longer hoisting their large signs up and down in the air, and instead were just standing there staring at you and Jihoon quietly.

In fact, they stood there in silent observation until the point where you noticed that no one was standing there and yelling obscenities at you any longer. Instead, they had confused expressions. Eyebrows slightly quirked in question.

If you had been Jihoon you surely would have been confused.

Why were they so confused? Why are they staring at us like that?

But as a carat, you weren’t confused at all.

You could feel what it was like from their point of view. Their anger melted away and they realized that Jihoon had found someone who made him happy- and that person, whether you could truly believe it or not- was you.

The fans didn’t have to say a word to one another. Instead, they silently began to make a path, moving away the reporters so that you and Jihoon could safely escape. You tugged Jihoon gently.

“We can go,” you mumbled softly. Jihoon looked surprised. He must not have been watching.

“How?” He asked.

You shrugged, and said possibly the cheesiest line that would ever leave your mouth in your entire lifetime:

“I guess the power of love.”

Chapter Thirty-One

[mcheang]

I'm back and with an idea i just had to share with you a fic with Alya knowing Lila was lying but wanted to knock Marinette down because he felt jealous and inferior to Marinette who had talent and headstart to her carreer and celebrity connections (she was still friends with her cuz Mari had a lot of perks )so she has an excuse to lash out her frustration and Mari calls her out saying Mari has been nothing but a good friend and she's been nothing but a bad person bcuz of her insecurites

Jealousy doesn’t become a hero

I very much prefer writing Lila and/or Bustier salt. But I hope this draft satisfies you.

When Volpina had been defeated, Marinette went to check the Ladyblog and was relieved to have found the interview deleted. Adrien must have informed Alya.

Imagine her surprise when Lila kept lying about her time with Achu. Despite her evidence, Alya dismissed it as jealousy.

Um...maybe Lila decided posing as her BFF was a bad idea and asked Alya to take the video down?

When Chameleon came about and was given the most embarrassing defeat of all time, Marinette sat watching Lila give her class a full-detail tall tale about how she rescued (defeated) her.

Then, struck by inspiration, Marinette went back to class, a triumphant air about her, her smirk barely repressed.

Adrien saw but shrugged it off. He figured Marinette realized Lila would get caught sooner or later. He joined her at the back later and soon their old seating arrangement was back.

That night, Alya was surprised when she heard a voice in her bedroom window.

“While I am glad that you don’t run after every akuma now, I hope you still check your sources, Alya.”

Alya turned and beamed. “Ladybug! What’s up? Do you need me for another Mission?”

Ladybug leaned against the wall. “No. I’m here regarding Lila. I’ve been hearing rumors that you posted an interview of her claiming to be my BFF- without checking with me.”

Alya blinked. “Oh. You think I’ve been suckered. Don’t worry, Ladybug, I know Lila’s nothing but a liar.”

Ladybug blinked. “But your interviews?”

Alya nodded and went to open a page on her laptop. She figured one of her classmates must have spread the rumor until it reached Ladybug’s ear (she doesn’t know why Lila was akumatized into Volpina). “I did post her interviews. But do you know how you can control who sees what you post? I made sure those interviews could only be seen by our class. And I have to approve what comments appear on every post. The comments you see are made by our classmates solely, but Lila doesn’t know all that because of their usernames. Like I’m going to ruin my journalistic career for a tabloid post!”

Ladybug blinked again, confused. “But why indulge Lila? Why let her lie to your friends?”

Alya shrugged. “It’s a weird way to make friends, sure. But maybe once Lila realizes how cool we are, she’ll learn she can trust us with the truth.”

Ladybug narrowed her eyes. Manipulating their classmates to serve her food is not a way to make friends. (And dismissing her was not very friendly of Alya either!) “You are lying to me, Alya Césaire.”

Alya started backward, and started to get nervous. Ladybug was the reason her blog was so popular, and her only chance to become a hero. She was the smartest girl in Paris and could see through lies like glass.

Alya had 2 choices. Lie again and be exposed (and never be a hero again or granted interviews), or tell the truth and never be a hero again (but at least Ladybug is more likely to forgive her)

“Fine. I indulge Lila because it’s nice to see someone else in class get the spotlight.”

Ladybug tilted her head. “I’m sure Chloe has been improving.”

Alya shook her head. “No, not her. I mean Marinette.”

Ladybug was shocked. “The bakers’ Daughter?”

Alya wasn’t surprised Ladybug knew Marinette, not when she was the one who arranged her first official interview with Ladybug.

LB: How is she in the spotlight?

Alya sighed. “She’s the most popular girl in class. She gets confessed to on a regular basis. Even my own Boyfriend was interested in her before me. She knows Jagged Stone, which is probably how she knows Lila is lying. Marinette even got her designs praised by Gabriel Agreste and Audrey Bourgeois. Her parents are owners of the most popular bakery in Paris. Clara Nightingale and Adrien Agreste both think she is star material, and worthy of being called Ladybug.”

Alya kept going on, noting that Ladybug’s surprised face wasn’t exactly discouraging her. In fact Marinette was still too stunned to react.

“I just wanted someone else to be in the limelight. And if it couldn’t be me. I’d rather it be anybody else, even a liar.”

Ladybug gathered her thoughts. “So you’re just jealous? That Marinette is popular? But you’re popular too.”

Alya gave a bleak laugh. “Hardly. In class, I’m dismissed as the obsessive and nosy reporter. I don’t know any celebrities and they certainly don’t follow the Ladyblog. More people download apps for akuma alerts and hero sightings than subscribe to my blog. I’ve been dismissed for proposing crazy theories, which in hindsight is reasonable.”

LB: I’m assuming you didn’t tell Marinette you know Lila is lying because of that.

AC: Obviously. Because then I’d have to back her up and she would be the hero again. I used the excuse that she was jealous, and she was. But I knew Marinette is above jealousy. It’s annoyingly. She was ready to give Adrien up to an ice queen.

LB wrinkled her eyebrows, drawing on her professionalism and burying her own hurt for later. “If you are upset by Marinette’s success and annoyed by her attitude, why befriend her?”

AS: Because of her connections! Thanks to her, I got to star in Clara’s music video. She somehow got you to agree to do an interview with me. I persuaded her to take over as class president so I didn’t have to do the real work and Chloe wouldn’t be in charge anymore. She gives me free custom designed clothing. And no offence to my mum, but Marinette’s pastries are the best breakfast in the world.

Ladybug finally stood up tall. Alya had been so lost in the relief and satisfaction of finally venting out her jealousy and frustration that she had momentarily forgotten that her listener in the shadows was a very influential idol whom she wanted to make a good impression on.

Ladybug said coldly, “From what you are saying, it sounds like Marinette has been a better Friend that you have ever been. You are as bad as Lila Rossi. You lie for your own gain. And if there’s one thing I despise above all else, Miss Césaire, it’s liars.”

As Ladybug launched her Yoyo out, Alya rushed to make her plea. “Wait! Please wait! I’m sorry!”

LB: No, you’re only sorry you got caught.

ALya cried out, “what can I do to make it up to you?”

Ladybug gave her one last impassive look. “For starters, I’d say tell the truth. To everyone.”

Ladybug left Alya in horrified and torn silence.

As Ladybug returned home, she detransformed and wept on her balcony, amid the perfume of flowers. She could finally face the betrayal and sadness she had kept away in front of Alya.

Tikki sadly cozied up to Marinette’s neck, trying to offer comfort.

Hawkmoth was alerted by a teenager’s despair, agony and betrayal.

Hawkmoth: Hooray, I get to akumatize Marinette after all!

He doesn’t. Adrien saw Ladybug outside and went out to join her. As he searched for Ladybug, he saw the akuma heading for a weeping Marinette.

“Marinette, move!”

Marinette looked up in surprise (Tikki quickly hid among the flowers) “Chat?”

“Cataclysm!” He destroyed the butterfly in front of her face.

Marinette gasped.

Chat quickly steadied himself on the balcony. “Marinette, are you alright? What’s wrong?”

Because she was definitely not alright. Those were tear tracks on her face. Chat felt sad that his princess was sad, and wanted to rip out the face of whoever made her cry.

Marinette shook her head. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Chat was doubtful. An akuma appeared. Clearly she couldn’t handle it. “Are you sure? I’m here for you, you know.”

Marinette finally burst into sobs. She leaped into Chat’s arms. Chat held her close as she confessed the source of her troubles.

“I just learned that Alya wasn’t really my Friend at all. She was just using me.”

Chat was confused. What was she talking about?

Marinette saw his confusion and explained. “I was the one who told Ladybug about Lila first. She got mad and went to confront Lila, i assume that got her akumatized. When Lila got akumatized again today, Ladybug went to visit Alya to make sure she knew Lila was a liar.”

Ok...Chat guessed that explained Marinette’s attitude just before lunch ended.

“And it turns out Alya knew Lila was a liar all along. She never really posted her interviews to the public. She’s just been indulging Lila because she wanted to knock me down.”

Chat was shocked. “And Ladybug told you all this?”

Marinette let out a bark of laughter. “She didn’t have to. I heard Alya myself. I was near her bedroom door when I heard voices saying my name. Once I heard what Alya had to say about me, I didn’t bother knocking or to announce myself. I doubt Nora would bother mentioning me since she was preoccupied with the twins and her parents weren’t home.”

Chat guessed Marinette had new evidence that Lila was a liar and wanted to show it to Alya. But instead she happened to hear a conversation that revealed Alya’s true colours.

Marinette wiped her cheeks bitterly. “She did everything today willingly. She left me to sit in the back alone, without consulting me. She dismissed me and accused me of being jealous. All along, she was the jealous one, and I actually thought she was my Friend!”

Marinette buried her face in her hands.

Chat rubbed Marinette’s back consolingly. “Cheer up princess. You still have the rest of your friends, and me.”

Marinette sniffled. This was not comforting to her. Her friends weren’t much better. And she didn’t see Chat regularly.

Chat sensed he was failing at comforting her and tried again. “So what are you going to do tomorrow. Will you confront Alya?”

“I don’t know. I sit next to her and she is the first person I talk to every morning at school. But I can’t see her face without wanting to shout Liar now. And if I do, she’ll just turn the whole thing against me, like Lila did. (Lila did what now?) I don’t know what to do.”

Chat’s heart broke at how lost Marinette sounded. He tiled her chin up so she would look at him.

“Tell you what, princess. Tomorrow, you are going to walk with your back straight and head proud into that classroom. You are going to give Alya Césaire a polite greeting and ignore her. Talk to your other classmates. Listen to music. Write in your notebooks. Revise old lessons. Do whatever. But don’t give Alya the time of day until you are ready to face her.”

The next day, Adrien was prepared. He ignored Lila and gave a confused and sad Alya the cold shoulder.

When Marinette arrived, Adrien was all sunshine and immediately invited her to a conversation.

Marinette gratefully accepted. And though she stumbled, she kept Chat’s advice and ignored Alya’s nudges and comments.

They kept talking until class started. The girls were thrilled to see progress.

Throughout the first half of the school day, Alya kept trying to talk to Marinette or slip her notes. Marinette ignored her.

Alya guessed what had happened and braced herself. She had to tell the truth. She didn’t want to know what Ladybug would do otherwise if she didn’t.

When Lunch came and Adrien invited him to join her; Alya firmly grabbed Marinette’s hand and said in a low voice. “I need to talk to you. Now.”

Marinette reluctantly followed. Unbeknownst to her, Adrien and Lila decided to eavesdrop, for different reasons. Adrien wanted to be there for Marinette and Lila wanted dirt.

In a deserted classroom, Alya finally said the words. “Ladybug told you about last night, didn’t she?”

Marinette’s answer was vague. “She didn’t have to. But she did give me a brief warning this morning. I connected the dots on my own.”

Alya laughed bitterly. “Of course, even Ladybug chooses you over me.”

Marinette stayed silent, waiting for Alya to continue.

“Let me be clear, Marinette. I’m only being honest because of Ladybug. I’ve only been your Friend because of what you do for me.”

Even though Marinette was expected it, it still hurt. Thankfully, her only controlled response was an audible exhale.

Adrien: How could you Alya?

Lila: oh snap!

“I know Lila’s lying but I indulged her because I wanted someone else to take the stage instead of you.”

Lila: she knows?

Marinette raised a brow. “Even at the risk of your blog’s reputation?”

“The interview is only seen by our class. The public can’t access it.”

Lila fumed. She had been played. Alya had used her instead of the other way around. Silently, Lila brought out her phone to record the conversation. Despite Adrien shaking his head, Lila glared at him, daring him to lecture her now.

Lila got the whole juicy bit. Alya admitted what she was jealous about, her betrayal to Marinette. And at the end of it, Marinette was still composed. Adrien had to admire her for it, standing strong in the face of such betrayal.

Marinette: you did all of that just to hurt me? Out of petty jealousy? That you accused me of envy- you resented me that much? and you only used me for free stuff and have been my friend when it's convenient? (This was part of the request) you know, I actually felt hurt that you were just taking advantage of me Alya. But now I just feel sorry for you. Some people like Chloe and Adrien are lucky, they are born with opportunities we can only dream of. But the rest of us, like Nathaniel, like Kitty Section, like myself. We work hard. Sure we have help from our friends, but we never take advantage of them. We have struggled and yes, we do face setbacks, but throughout it all, we have stayed true to ourselves. But you, the moment you see someone thriving, you don’t focus on improving yourself, you just try to leech off that person, like you did to Lila, and like you did to me. You can’t think of safer methods to record akuma fights. You never listen to anyone’s reasoning and criticism of your theories. You are stuck in your own entitled world, that you can’t see the bigger picture. You’re a parasite, Alya Césaire. So...I won’t expose you, because I have no doubt you’ll turn everyone against me. But I won’t be your Friend anymore.”

Alya wasn’t bothered. “Fine. So we agree to never speak to each other again unless necessary?”

“Yes.” Marinette walked out first. Adrien and Lila scattered before she could open the door.

Adrien immediately went to grab Marinette for lunch and did all he could to distract her from her recent ordeal.

Meanwhile, Lila edited the video to avoid incriminating herself and sent it to the class group chat.

She hates Marinette sure, but no one plays Lila for a fool and gets away with it.

The class is shocked and angry at Alya, who tries to claim that Lila is lying. She runs away from the mob and returns as Lady Wifi to punish Lila.

Ladybug defeats her but Alya demands a question if Ladybug is friends with Lila. Feeling sorry for Alya, Ladybug announces that her only Best Friend is Chat Noir. She does not befriend civilians.

Alya is sentenced to switch seats with Nathaniel. Adrien takes her place as Deputy. Nino dumps Alya. Lila and her new desk mate keep sabotaging each other.

[wickedbarnes]

m o n s t e r.

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

prompt: ransom absolutely hates being rejected. he loathes it, it wounds his ego. so when he finds out that you weren't interested in him, the sheer determination of having you slowly turned into an unhealthy obsession.

trigger warnings: smut. non-con. dubcon. drugging. blackmailing. dark!ransom. do NOT read if any of these make you uncomfortable. 18+ readers ONLY.

note: i'm sorry if the smut may not be that good. i promise i'm trying to improve my smut writing skills :(

Ransom was the type of man who always gets what he wants one way or another. He wasn't the type to back down from a challenge nor was he the type to lose. He always makes sure he wins at the end. For him, nothing tasted so sweet than to have things go his way. He was that type of man and he was proud to admit that.

If he wanted a new car, he'd get it. If he wanted to party on the other side of the goddamn world, he'd book a ticket in a blink of an eye. If he wanted to fuck a girl or two, he'd get them on his knees in an instant. Ransom was a man who had everything. Power, wealth, good looks, you name it.

Being a Thrombey had its perks after all despite how much he dislikes his family.

But of course, there was this... unfortunate fact that not everything went his way. And he realized this the moment he laid eyes on the newest maid inside his grandfather, Harlan's mansion.

Y/N is what they called you. You were only working part-time as a means of earning money while you studied at college. It won't be long 'till you graduated so the student loans that you had needed to be paid and Harlan was generous and kind enough to pay you well.

Ransom took note of how full of life you were. Your eyes held some sort of innocence and purity in them. In fact, he'd be surprised if he ever found out you weren't a virgin. You seemed like the type that had never been properly touched by a man before. Either that, or you just hid that secret so well.

You greeted everyone kindly with a smile on your face and Ransom was sure everyone would be doting on you in no time. But when your doe eyes had fell on him, he saw the hesitation in them. But you quickly masked it with a faint smile, not quite as bright as the one that you gave to the others.

"Welcome back, Hugh." You'd say. And dare say, Ransom was impressed that you already knew he preferred that he was called Hugh by the helpers.

And you did. The first time you were hired, Marta and Fran were kind enough to show you around and taught you how things worked around here, even showed you how to properly serve Harlan's family members. However, it was Marta who told you about Hugh. You could remember her telling you to strictly steer clear from him and that whatever you did, you will only refer to him as Hugh.

And you, being the obedient employee that you are, you weren't planning on causing trouble and made sure to make mental notes of what she said.

So far, you were doing great. You were confused however, as to why she'd tell you to avoid him but when you saw how he treated his family members and the helpers that served him, you instantly understood why you needed to do so.

An asshole.

That's what Ransom Drysdale was.

Days passed during their visit to the mansion, you found yourself trying to stop yourself from giving Ransom a piece of your mind. You just couldn't handle rude people. They never settled well with you. And as quiet and bashful as you were most of the time, you had quite the mouth on you when someone deserves to be taught a lesson.

But by extension, Ransom was kind of your employer. If you upset him, there was no way in hell he wouldn't tell his grandfather. And you didn't want to disappoint Harlan now that he had done so much for you.

So instead, you kept your mouth shut and just continued to do your job.

But your reactions didn't go unnoticed by the cold-hearted playboy. He knew you disliked him. And in a way, he found it amusing. It wasn't the first time he heard of people not being quite fond of him. Most of the time, he didn't care. But with you, it somehow makes him chuckle.

In all honesty, he found you adorable trying to suppress what you wanted to say to him whenever he talked shit to his family or to Fran or Marta. He saw how you'd scowl and walk away from the scene just so you wouldn't burst and make you put him in his place if that's even possible. As if he'd let anyone dominate him.

It started out small, really. He had woken up early and found you wiping the windows clean. You wiped the sweat that was forming on your forehead as Ransom went downstairs, making his presence known. You turned around and saw him smiling softly at you.

"Good morning, Y/N." He greeted you and to say you weren't quite taken aback would be a lie. But you weren't rude like Ransom and he knows that. So instead of ignoring him, you forced a smile back and slowly brushed passed him to make your way to the laundry room. But not before you greeted him back.

"Good morning, Hugh." You'd say. And just like that, you were out of his grasp.

After that exchange, you'd find Ransom out in the garden with you as you watered the plants, in the kitchen where you'd help prepare food, in the laundry room where you tried to clean everyone's dirty clothes. He was there, trying to start up a conversation with you. But all of which you gave such limited answers to.

You didn't want to indulge him of trying to get to know you. You knew better than to let your guard down with men like Ransom. He was the kind of man that your mother had warned about. And you knew better than to be fooled by him.

Your headstrong personality despite your shyness and innocence showed through whenever you'd politely tell Ransom to leave you be. And that surprised him a lot.

Because no one had been able to tell him to leave them alone. When it came to women, they would lunge themselves and kneel down at Ransom's feet, worshipping him as if he were God in the flesh. They would do all that just to get a taste of the infamous Thrombey Golden Boy. But you, you had asked him to leave you be.

"I'm working, Hugh. And I would gladly appreciate it if you don't distract me. I'd like to finish early I still have homework to finish." You'd say as you busied yourself by cleaning one of the guest rooms that was bigger than your apartment itself.

Ransom stood there silently and you worried for a moment as to why he hadn't said anything. Turning around to look at him, you saw him frozen on his spot but soon enough, he nodded his head briskly and left you in the room without a word.

But if he was being honest, what you said had offended him so much. That was the closest thing to "No" that he had ever received from a woman. And it drove him fucking crazy.

Oh but no, he wasn't going to give up. You were just playing hard to get that's all. Women love a good chase. And you were simply not going through your senses. Ransom was confident that soon enough, you'd realize just how lucky you are that he was even bothering on paying attention and pouring his time on a maid like you.

He could have any girl he wanted. Models, cheerleaders, business women, fucking porn stars and yet he was focusing on you. Sometimes Ransom forgets why he was even wasting his time but then he remembers that he doesn't take no for an answer.

You were beautiful, he admits that. You weren't a model nor were you an actress but you were beautiful nonetheless. Ransom was sure that you could turn heads whenever you walk in public. That was one of the reason why he seemed so hooked up on you.

But another was that you were unlike any woman he has met before. You were innocent but you weren't an idiot. He could see fire in your eyes and he sensed that you were the kind of woman that would easily carry herself. You didn't need a man by your side to help you. In fact, you didn't even need a man to make you happy.

And that kind of a whole new thing to Ransom. You were like the fresh apple in the forbidden tree. So ripe for the taking You were like a breath of fresh air to him. All the other women he had been with, they all seemed to want to depend on him. They all seemed as if they couldn't even stand on their own two feet.

But that wasn't you.

And Ransom realized you weren't playing hard to get. The real problem was that you weren't interested in him at all. It took him days to realize that. Days of silently persuading you to at least pay attention to him. Days of silently hoping you would fall into his trap just like all those girls he trapped back then. But no, it didn't work on you.

No matter how much he pretended to be nice, no matter how much he had tried to make a conversation with you, even trying to mellow down his attitude towards his family and the helpers, he just didn't stand a chance.

And that. Drove. Him. Insane.

Ransom couldn't have this, no. He had to have you. It wasn't something he wanted to do. It was something he needed to do. It was as if having you was something that his life depended on it. He needed to take you. Stake his claim and make you his. He had never wanted to claim someone so much as he did with you. You had that effect on him now.

All because you refused to let him have you.

The more you refused, the more he craved you. The more he got addicted. The more he got obsessed at the thought of finally having you writhing underneath him.

But that was just that, a thought. An imagination for him. A sick dream of his that made him wake up with a raging boner that pushed him to stroke his own throbbing member but not before he moans out your name from his lips.

That was, until it finally turned into reality.

The Thrombeys had thrown a little get together and almost all of them got drunk. Thankfully, you didn't have class tomorrow so you didn't mind staying in so late. You can just call a cab or stay in the maid quarters until you can go home. It was also your day off the next day anyways.

The wealthy family had finally retrieved to their respective rooms leaving you to clean up all the empty glasses and liquor bottles that were strewn all over the table. The Thrombeys really do get roudy when they're drunk.

Fran had to tend to Harlan because of Marta's absence. According to her, she had important matters to attend to and that left you with the duty and washing these glasses and putting them away.

You were finally finished with the task when you turned around and jumped when you saw Ransom leaning in against the doorway with a faint smile on his face.

"Jesus, Hugh, you scared me." You'd say, putting your hand over your chest making him chuckle as you walked out of the kitchen and into the dining room where you began to tidy up the table again.

"I told you, you can call me Ransom." He replied but you just sighed in response, refusing to call him that, not wanting to give him what he wants no matter how small.

"You should be in bed." You said already knowing he'd notice the change in the subject.

"So should you but here you are cleaning." Ransom walked over to you and placed a glass of champagne in front of you while another was in his hand.

"What's this?"

"Champagne." He answered as if you didn't know what was in front of you.

"I know but why are you giving it to me?"

Ransom let out a breath and traced the rim of the glass with his calloused fingers.

"You'd been working nonstop today, I thought you should treat yourself somehow."

You sighed, "Hugh, I can't take this. I can't drink while I'm working. Plus, it'd be inappropriate of me to drink with my employer's grandson."

"Oh, come on, Y/N. It's just one glass, it won't hurt. My grandfather even offered you some earlier. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you drank one right now." He picked up the glass and pushed yours into your hands so you had no choice but to grab it or else, the glass would break and the drink would spill.

"Come on, just one drink. I promise it won't be that bad. And then I'll leave you alone to rest." Ransom smiled down at you and your gaze averted back and forth to him and the glass of champage in your hands.

Maybe one drink wouldn't hurt, right?

"Ugh, fine. Just one though, that's it." You replied, finally giving in and Ransom had to bite the inside of his cheek hard to keep himself from smiling too wide from what he heard.

He raised his glass to you with a smirk on his face, "To working hard and paying student loans."

You rolled your eyes at him but grinned at his words before you clinked your glass with his.

"To working hard and paying student loans." You said before you took a big chug of your drink, finishing it in one go and you had completely missed the way Ransom had looked down at you with a devilish look in his eyes as he drank his champagne the same time as you did.

You placed down your glass on the table and quietly thanked him for the drink. You walked passed him but Ransom stayed at his spot and finished his champagne and as if he timed it perfectly, he heard a thud on a floor that caused him to smirk in a sinister way.

The drug worked fast just like he knew it would. Usually it would take time but he didn't have the patience for that so he doubled the dosage. Ransom grabbed both your empty glasses and washed it neatly before he put it in the dishwasher.

He didn't want to leave any trace of evidence after all. But it wasn't like you were gonna tell anybody anyway.

Ransom came back to the dining room and gently picked you up in his big arms bridal style, making you look like a damsel in distress who just got rescued by a knight in shining armor. Except, it wasn't like that at all.

He quietly made his way upstairs, looking down at your face every once in a while. Grinning at how adorable you looked while you were unconscious in his arms.

Soon enough, Ransom had successfully walked into his room and placed you down on the bed gently. He walked by the door once again and made sure it was locked before he made his way to your sleeping figure once again and took his time to just admire your features.

He stroked your cheek gently as he took his time to appreciate your gorgeous body that was still clad in your clothing. And Ransom wanted nothing more than to rip everything off of you but he knew he had to wait until you woke up.

So instead, he pulled away and took his time by taking a bath.

Meanwhile, your eyelids were starting to flutter open, your body felt heavy and you couldn't even bring to at least move your fingers. God, what happened?

When your vision finally adjusted, you realized that you weren't in your apartment nor were you in the maid quarters. Where were you? Did you pass out? How'd you pass out?

But then you remembered. You were cleaning the dining room when Ransom came in and offered you champagne. And then you finally agreed to take a sip. After that, you passed out. Realization hit you like a truck and you willed yourself to at least sit up. It took some time and your body felt like jello as you did. As if every limb was asleep.

It was then that you realized that you were in Ransom's room. Why'd he take you here? Did he help you when you passed out? Why did you even pass out in the first place? Was it because you were exhausted? Or was it-

"Oh, you're awake." Ransom's voice caught your attention and you turned to see him walking out of the bathroom, his chest damp from taking a bath as droplets of water trickled down to his torso. He was only wearing a towel around his hips to at least hide his modesty.

You weren't blind to the fact that Ransom was indeed a handsome man. But looks didn't matter to you if the person was a complete dick. So you groaned and looked away, rubbing your temple as your head pounded quite a bit.

Ransom didn't like your reaction at all. Usually, women would gasp or at least their jaw would drop upon seeing him half naked in front of them. But you, you looked away. You didn't even blush. Nor did you at least stare at him.

Did you not find him attractive at all? No, that's not it. Maybe you were just distracted by the drug he induced inside your drink. You were just waking up from it after all.

"What happened, Hugh? How'd I pass out? I don't remember having a drink too many." You'd ask and carefully placed your legs down onto the floor as you now sat on the edge of the bed, not quite noticing how your skirt had risen up to the middle of your thighs.

"You didn't, yeah. Thankfully my dosage was right to just knock you out and not send you into a coma." He answered nonchalantly and your head shot up as you looked at him confused.

"Dosage? W-What are you talking about?"

Ransom rolled his eyes and slowly made his way over to you and you found yourself scooting further away from him while gripping onto the blanket right next to you.

You never noticed just how big he was compared to you. Not until now when he looked as if he was stalking his prey and he was the predator.

"You're really pretty, Y/N, you know that, right?" Ransom stood in front of you, his crotch leveling with your face but you were somehow thankful that he put his finger underneath your chin and tilted your head up to look at him.

"What are you doing, Hugh?" You asked him, your voice shaking quite a bit now as fear began to course through your veins. You knew Ransom had his moments and he had them a lot. But never did you realize he would get so... so aggressive. You were scared to say the least. Because then you never realized just how dangerous Ransom Drysdale could be until now.

"What am I doing? Oh, baby, I think I should be asking you that. You know, all this wouldn't have happened if you just spared a glance at me, you know? You walk around here looking all innocent with your head held high as if you didn't want my head in between those precious thighs of yours."

Your eyes widened, "W-What? What're you- Hugh, that's ridi-"

"Call me Ransom." He said, cutting you off as he gripped your jaw with his large hands, "God, do you even realize how much I fucking hate it when you call me Hugh?"

"But didn't you prefer the help calling you that?" You backfired but your voice seemed so weak. You wanted so bad to break away from him but you were afraid of what might happen if you did.

Was he armed? Would he hurt you? Would he... no, Ransom wouldn't do that, would he?

Would he?

"I do. But I can't let my best girl call me Hugh it... it really gets on my nerves, Y/N. Sometimes I think you're doing it on purpose. Just like how you haven't given into me all this time that I've been here. Tell me, were you playing hard to get? Is that what this is, you love the game of cat and mouse? You love the chase, hm?"

You were so confused. Why was he so round up? Why did he seem so angry? And what the hell did he mean by playing hard to get? Your thoughts were cut short when Ransom held your face harshly in his hands, looking down at you with dark eyes instead of his usual azure colored orbs.

This was a completely different Ransom. Hell, was this the real Ransom all along? Predatory and dangerous?

"I'm fucking asking you a question here, baby, I expect a fucking answer from you." His voice was deep, husky and it only sent shivers down your spine because of how scared you were right now.

"I don't understand what's going on, Hugh." You whimpered as your hands slightly began to shake on your lap, "I don't know why I'm here or what you mean by playing hard to get, I'm not playing hard to get, I'm not playing any games with you I was just doing my job."

Tears began to cascade down your cheeks and Ransom's face softened a bit. But he was shocked when he felt as if he was guilty for making you cry. He had made many women cry but he never felt any ounce of guilt before. Why'd he feel it when it comes to you?

Ransom shushed and cooed at you as he gently wiped your tears away with his thumb.

"Don't cry, doll. Well, as much as you look pretty when you cry, I'd prefer it if you didn't." He smiled before he crouched down in front of you.

"I just don't understand, Y/N. I did everything I could. I tried to act nice, I tried to help you around with your chores even if you'd tell me countless of times that you didn't need my help, I even convinced my grandfather to give you a raise because of how hardworking you are. Why did you think you were getting paid more than the other helpers around here, huh? I did all that and all you do to repay me was to pull away? That's quite rude, baby." He tutted and began to trace random patterns onto your thighs which made jump and push his hand away.

"See now, that's what I was fucking talking about. You always push me away. No matter what I do, no matter what tricks I have up my sleeve, you break away and dare I say I'm starting to lose my patience here."

He sighed and put his hand back on your thigh and you let out a sob as you couldn't push him away now. Your body still felt like jello you could hardly move your limbs properly. And you knew that if you break away, Hugh would catch you, it would be useless.

"I did all that I could to lure you in, to let you fall into my charms and let me have you but no, I guess all of that didn't work. Do you realize just how many women would kill to be in your place, hm? How they'd pay you millions of money just so they could replace you? And yet here you are, being so ungrateful. But I commend you, Y/N. You're the first woman to ever reject my advances. And as much as I fucking hated it, I'm impressed."

You brows furrowed as you finally put two in two together. That was all it was? All of this because you had wounded his large fucking ego? The fear on your face was replaced with anger and the fact that Ransom was looking at you amusingly didn't help at all.

"That was all this, Hugh? All of this, all the drugging that you did to me, all those pretentious acts that you pulled was all just because you could get me to sleep with you? All because you can't take no for answer? How fucking desperate and idiotic can you be?" You spat but it all happened so fast when Ransom suddenly slapped you across the face causing your head to whip up to the side.

His eyes widened as you turned back to look at him, your cheek now sporting a red mark. You were shocked. But you quickly gathered your composure and uttered words that caused Ransom to see nothing but red.

"I'd return the slap if I even took you as a man, Ransom." Ransom. You finally uttered Ransom from your lips. He should be happy you finally called him that. But his name accompanied by those words made something in him snap.

Ransom pushed you down on the bed and placed himself in between your thighs as his hand wrapped around your throat but not enough to choke you just tight enough to instill fear back in your body. Your skirt hiked up and Ransom smirked at the sight of your white cotton panties fully in display for him now.

Even your undergarments were as innocent as you.

"I've had enough, Y/N. You really pushed my limits now. Didn't your mother taught you how to respect your superiors, hm?" His hands rubbed your thigh up and down and before you could even reply, he quickly yanked down your skirt causing you to shriek but Ransom quickly silenced you as he put his large hand over your mouth.

"You should know better than to fight, doll. Make this easier for the both of us, will you? You have no idea how much I fucking hate it when someone tells me no. Especially when it's coming from you." Ransom brushed his fingers against your core causing you to jump a bit and squirm in his arms but held you firmly in place causing you to still down on the bed.

You eyes widened as you felt Ransom pushing your panties to the side before you felt his finger sliding up and down against your folds. Although you had masturbated quite a number of times, you were a virgin. You were untouched and made a promise to yourself to give your virginity to a man that loves you just as much as you loved him. Who deserves to have every part of you.

But instead, it was going to be forcefully taken away from you by Ransom. The grandson of your employer. The Thrombey Golden Boy. The devil in the flesh.

Your eyes were wide and filled with fear and Ransom liked that. He liked how powerless you were compared to him. He liked having the control he has on you now.

Slowly, he took his hand off your mouth but not before he gave you a warning.

"If you ever scream for help or even wake anybody up inside this goddamn mansion, I'll be sure to ruin your life and we don't want that, do we?" You instinctively shake your head no and Ransom seemed satisfied by your response.

"And if you ever tell anyone about this, I'll find out. And when I do, you'll be unemployed in the blink of an eye. Your degree gone in a snap. In case you didn't know, we Drysdales are stakeholders at your school. I can easily demand to get you expelled. And if you make me unhappy, I'll even fabricate a story about you. That's not something you want to happen, right?"

You couldn't believe it. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. And it doesn't seem so real. How could Ransom be so cruel? Did the vanity that was coursing through his veins finally fucked his head up? Or was he always like this? Always craved for power and control?

Your questions remained unanswered while you managed to give Ransom another meekly nod causing him to smirk.

"Good girl. See, you're learning. And good girls deserve a reward." You felt his fingers rubbing circles on your clit. You gasped and shook your head as if you silently told your body not to give into the pleasure he was forcing on you.

Your slit began to get slippery and Ransom cooed at how embarrassed you seem when you started to get his fingers all soaking wet.

"No need to be embarrassed, baby, it's just me. I'll take care of you." Tears streamed down your face causing your cheeks to get all blotchy but even then, Ransom still wouldn't budge. In fact, he found you beautiful when you cried. It made you look more innocent and pure. As if you needed to be dependent on him.

"You're getting so wet, sweetheart. You don't mind if I slip a finger in, do you?" Ransom didn't even give you anytime to answer before he slipped a finger inside your tight hole. You hated how a soft moan had escaped your mouth when he pushed it in.

"Oh, that's it, Y/N. Those are the noises I want to hear from you." Ransom pumped his finger in and out of your pussy and your cheeks heat up when you heard the sound of your own slick pussy. No, no, it shouldn't feel this good.

Your mind and body were at war. Your brain was screaming at you to push him away and scream for help but your body writhing against his hand as if you were begging him for more even if that wasn't the case.

Ransom looked at his glistening hand that was soaked with your juices and it only made his cock throb against the towel that was wrapped around his waist. Pulling his fingers away, you thought it was over until he ripped your panties off of you along with your blouse leaving you in nothing but your white laced bra.

You watched as Ransom licked his lips hungrily at you and it seemed as if the bra that was covering your breasts bothered him. So much so that he roughly pulled the straps down and reached behind you to unhook them with ease letting your tits be exposed to him.

You lifted your arms up to cover your chest while you pressed your thighs together but Ransom growled disapprovingly. He forced your legs open again and pinned your arms above your head with his hand as he stared down at you with his lust clouded eyes.

"Are you going to fucking behave or do you want to do this the hard way?" He spat and you felt so small as a quiet sob emitted from your lips while you stayed still.

"Good girl." Ransom whispered as he pressed a kiss onto your lips before pulling away.

"I think it's time I have a taste of you, baby. I hope you're as sweet as you look." Ransom spread your legs open and positioned his face in between your thighs. The towel that was wrapped around his waist had finally let loose and fell onto the wooden floor, letting his cock spring free.

Ransom gently blew on your pussy causing you to flinch. You lifted your head and shook your head at him.

"P-Please, Ransom... let me go, I won't tell anyone I just- Ransom!" You gasped when you felt his tongue laying flat on your cunt before he glided it across your clit. You propped yourself on your elbows and shook your head vigorously at him but Ransom held your legs in place, keeping them apart with his strong hands.

"Yeah, fucking watch me eat your pussy, baby." Ransom would say before he started to lap up your juices and even going as far as to tease your hole with his tongue by pushing it in and out of you before he paid attention to your throbbing clit.

You should've looked away. Looked somewhere else rather than the man that was in between your legs, tongue shoved up your pussy. But you can't. He looked so erotic while he sucked on your sensitive little bud. Is this how it feels to get eaten out by a man?

"Don't fight it, baby, just give in." Ransom would tell you as his fingers slid up and down your wet folds, getting them all lubed up before he pushed it up inside your pussy.

A whorish moan escaped your lips and you quickly put your hand up against your mouth to at least muffle the noises you weren't supposed to be making.

You hated this so much. You hated it because you were giving in. You hated it because it felt so damn good. You hated it because you found yourself wanting more.

You didn't plan on it but it was as if your body has gone on autopilot when you hips began to grind up against Ransom's mouth and fingers. Your hands finding its way to tangle themselves onto Ransom's hair.

Sinful moans escaped your mouth and Ransom moaned against your pussy as it was music to his ears. You tasted so sweet on his tongue and it only drove him crazier than he already was for you.

His personal little peach.

Ransom picked up the pace and curled his fingers up to hit your g-spot repeatedly while he was to busy sucking and licking on your clit. It was too much, it felt too good. Your eyes rolled at the back of your head as you felt the familiar pleasure boiling up in the pit of your stomach.

You were close.

"Fuck, baby, I can feel you getting close." Ransom moaned against your soaking wet pussy. You were sure his chin was glistening with your juices.

"No, no, no..." You chanted and shook your head as if you remembered that you weren't supposed to like this at all.

"Yes, yes, come on, baby. I know you wanna cum for me. Do it. Fucking do it." Ransom encouraged you and fingerfucked you harder as he pulled away, his thumb now rubbing circles on your clit in a fast pace.

He wanted to see you come undone for him.

"Do it, Peaches, do it. Be a good girl and cum for me." He ordered you and you were far too gone to tell yourself no.

"R-Ransom!" You turned your head to the side and bit down on the pillow that was right next to you to muffle your screams. You body convulsed underneath Ransom's as you came hard on his fingers. Your legs shook as avalanche of tears streamed down your face due to shame and the pleasure you felt.

Ransom was speechless. It was as if you were being possessed by a demon. You were shaking underneath him, moaning his name as if it was a prayer you had memorized. No one had came this hard for him. No one had been so wet for him before. It was you. It was all you.

He pulled his fingers away and as much as he wanted to lick it clean, he wanted to see how you'd look while you were sucking on something.

You fluttered your eyes open and looked up at Ransom when you felt his weight on your body. He held his soaking fingers against your lips with one demand for you.

"Suck." And even you didn't want to, you found yourself doing what you were told. You wrapped your lips around his fingers and sucked your juices clean off his fingers.

You knew you should've looked away. You knew you should've pulled away but instead, you looked deep into his eyes and swirled your tongue around his fingers, giving him a sneak peek on what you'd look like if you were to suck his cock.

Ransom was taken by surprise. You're naturally a tease. But as much as he wanted to let you suck on his cock, he knew he didn't have the patience for that yet. Instead, he positioned himself on the bed and threw your leg over his shoulder. Your eyes widened as you shook your head began to move away from him but Ransom only pulled back to where you were by your ankles.

"Don't misbehave now, Y/N, you were doing so good." His voice was dark, indicating how he disliked that you pulled away.

"Ransom, you don't understand, I'm inexperienced. Very different from the girls you've fucked, I... Please, let me go, you already made me cum." You pleaded but you could tell on Ransom's face that he wasn't having it.

"Please, Ransom... I'm a virgin, I-"

"You're a what?" Ransom asked, completely cutting you off.

"I'm a virgin." You repeated yourself, confident that Ransom would change his mind about all this once he finds out that you had no experience with sex.

But your confidence went as quickly as it came.

Ransom's face lit up as he leaned down to capture your lips in his, kissing you passionately. You wanted to pull away but he held your face in place as if he sensed you'd be doing exactly that.

Pulling away, Ransom smirked at you.

"How much more innocent can you be?" And with that, he threw your leg over his shoulder and began to line his cock up against your entrance after he slid it up and down to use your juices as lube.

"Ransom, no, it's not gonna fit- Ahh!" You shrieked and closed your eyes shut as the stinging pain shot throughout your body. You whimpered as Ransom cooed at you while he gently pushed his thick length inside your virgin hole.

He was stretching you out so much it felt endless. You let out a helpless sob when he finally bottomed out, his cock now fully deep inside of you. Ransom cupped your face and peppered kisses on your cheek and lips as if that would help diminish the pain you're in.

"You're so tight, Peaches, you fucking know that?" He groaned and stayed still as if any movement would cause him to spill his cum inside you.

"Ransom, please, I don't want this..." You pleaded yet again but Ransom's eyes darkened as he smirked down at you.

"You will." And with that, he began to thrust back and forth into you, his cock pumping in and out of your tight cunt. You gasped and expected there would be pain but there was none. Pleasure started to overtake your body once again and you realized you had finally adjusted to Ransom's length.

You shook your head, praying to whatever deity there was that existed to make this all stop. It shouldn't feel good, it shouldn't. But your body told you otherwise.

Ransom groaned and looked down to watch his cock go in and out of your cunt. The sight was mouthwatering. He remembered how he just dreamt about this but now it was real. And it was better than he imagined.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're gripping me like a vice. Ruining other bitches for me." He moaned and threw his head back, his mouth parted open as his brows furrowed.

Your breathing became uneven and you found yourself meeting Ransom's thrusts causing him to push deeper inside of you, making him hit your g-spot repeatedly. Sinful moans escaped your lips and you could no longer control what your body desperately needed.

By the look of how desperate you were to chase your own orgasm, Ransom was certain he has you now. He was certain that he had you wrapped around his finger. He was certain that you're all his.

"R-Ransom..."

"I know, baby, I know. Just a little longer, Peaches." He fastened his pace and licked his thumb before he rubbed your throbbing clit while he pounded your cunt. The action made you arch your back and your moans to get louder and you quickly put your hand over your mouth, not wanting to wake anyone up.

Either you didn't want to get caught and make Ransom stop or you just didn't want to face the consequences that he gave you if you got too noisy and alarmed everyone in the house.

"R-Ransom, I'm close, I'm-"

"Me too, baby, fuck! Oh God, I'm gonna fill your pussy up." He groaned and with one final thrust, he shoved his cock so deep up your pussy that you couldn't help but spasm around him once again, biting his shoulder as you screamed out in pleasure as you came hard.

"Holy shit, Y/N..." Ransom moaned as he felt you milking his cock up completely. You felt him shoot load after load of his cum while you shook underneath him.

When Ransom slowly pulled away, you couldn't help but cry silently as a sob escaped your lips. He used you. He used you for his own pleasure and you let him. You let him. And there was nothing you could do.

Ransom looked at you with pity. He knew you were still confused. Soon enough, you were going to thank him for the things he's done to and for you. He gently placed your body on the other side of the bed before he lied down and placed the duvet over your bodies.

"You did so good, Y/N. I'm proud of you. See? I told you it'd be easy if you just gave in." He smiled fondly at you and gently wiped the tear that slipped down from your eyes.

"You had me. You used me like a piece of fucking meat. Now will you let me go?" Your question made Ransom laugh out loud. It was rare for women to make him and somehow, you did it. You were truly full of surprises.

"Let you go? Oh no, Peaches, I think you're mistaken." His smile turned into a menacing one as fear began to spark up inside your body once again as he traced your bare shoulders with your fingers.

"I've waited for this moment for a long time. This is the longest chase I've done. And now that I have you, I don't think I'll ever let you go. Plus, you're quite the fighter. You were quite the challenge and I like that. From here on out, you're mine, do you understand?" Ransom gently pulled the blanket off your body as the cool breeze of air hit your skin. His fingers traced your erect nipples before his hand squeezed your breasts a bit.

"You." He pulled the blanket off of him.

"Are." Ransom spread your legs again and placed himself in between them.

"Mine." He whispered against your neck before he pushed his hardening cock back inside you again.

A monster.

That's what Ransom Drysdale was.

[deadinsidedressage]

Boarding Update: New Digs & Lessons Learned 

Well, November to early December was an interesting time for Mitzy and I. 

Out of the blue one night during the beginning of Nov, my (now former) BO came up to me and told me I needed to find new boarding for my horse. That was a massive shock to me as my understanding of how our time there had been going didn’t give any indication we had anything remotely close to an issue. I’d not personally had any issues handling my horse and hadn’t heard of anything from the BO about her or her husband having a contrary experience. I had also explicitly written into my boarding contract that I wanted to be told of any difficulties in handling her so that I could address those in my training sessions with her. I had asked on countless occasions “Oh, how has Mitzy been for you guys?” and been told resoundingly how great she was.  /dnr

To then be told my horse was no longer welcome and that she’d reportedly been dangerous to handle was a huge slap to the face. I could hardly form a coherent thought at the time but did ask “How long has this been going on and why wasn’t I told earlier?”. Well I get a “We don’t tell boarders every little thing that their horse does” as a response before she launches into how apparently my horse was also destroying fences. I’m out there nearly daily, at least 6 days a week, and had never seen the fences in a state of disrepair. Maybe the chicken wire was bowed out a little, but that’s about it. Again, I ask how long has this been happening and why wasn’t I told. Allegedly “the whole time” and she’s tired of “fixing things my horse breaks”. If my horse was dangerous, I should be told immediately. Considering I’ve not had any issues leading my horse or handling my horse I’m not sure what I would’ve done to “fix” the behavior but I would’ve done something. Even if that something was only offering myself to personally do turnout for her. If my horse is damaging fences to such an extent, I should be told. I would’ve been happy to pay for fence repairs & offer my labor as well. 

The more information I try to get the more the picture is coming together of my horse not being the issue (thank God). “Well you know how difficult she is to halter”--- no, my horse self-halters. “You know how she can be”--- no, I know my horse to be extremely easy to handle on the ground for a 2 year old. “Well since Fendi freaks out, she’s been galloping around, rearing, and bucking when it’s time to go in for dinner and she reared up on my husband when he tried to halter her today since I grab Fendi so he can get Mitzy and bring her in at the same time”--- your not a horse person husband is who has to go and get a 2 year old who is amped up by another frantic horse? After you’ve assured me that you or the girl in your employ would be the people to handle my horse since I was concerned about that? That seemed like a sound idea in your head?

I can’t discount the fact that all it takes for a situation to be unsafe is for the handler to feel it’s unsafe. If they’ve decided my horse is dangerous for them to handle then it doesn’t matter how she handles for myself, my friends, or experienced horse people. She’s dangerous for them. She self-halters if you stand at her side, but sure she’ll freak out if you come head on. She’s extremely easy to handle, but if she spooks it’s big and you need to not get scared of that. Or if she’s being feisty you just need to be confident in shutting it down and know how to handle a hot horse. She’s a 2 year old decently hot WB who recently shot up in size, it doesn’t matter how comparably easy she is to other 2 year old WBs if you’ve never handled one before. 

So, knowing I couldn’t necessarily get her out immediately I offered a few solutions. A) Keep her stalled 24/7 until she moves or B) I can take her out in the morning and bring her in at night. “Keeping her in won’t fix her attitude.” Oh... so there’s the rub. There’s a fundamental misunderstanding in how we view horses and handling them. It’s not just unsafe for you to handle my horse because she’s big and you’re unfamiliar with hotter types, you believe in dominance theory and will hurt yourselves thinking you can be more stubborn than a 1200lb horse. Well, I can bring her in and out then. “She’s only a problem in the evenings.” Okay... well I will have her back in her stall everyday by this time. “I mean if you’re there that’s fine, but we can take her in.” ...Is this a horse you’ve labeled dangerous or is it not? Are you not kicking us out because you don’t think she’s safe to handle or not? 

Well... luckily I secure new boarding pretty quickly but unfortunately it takes 3 weeks to move her. Not because that’s when the stall was open but because I’ve never had the opportunity to trailer train my horse. Takes three weekends of trying to get her in a trailer, hiring a shipper so we can get a bigger trailer, some dorm gel to take the edge off, and a literal crew of people to essentially walk her in a foot at a time. In the meantime, before the stars aligned and she finally went in a trailer, I am bringing my horse in before dinner and dealing with increasingly hostile behavior from my (now former) BO and some of the other boarders! 

The whole situation has been absolutely bonkers to me because when I shipped her up to this facility I was under the impression that the BO was confident handling young horses. For the longest time everyone would love on her whenever they saw her, always calling her “the baby”, and the BO’s husband in particular would “smuggle” treats to her throughout the day (encouraged by me honestly). Retroactively, I can now see that at the point my horse sprouted up about a hand and had gained a deal more fitness from all her in-hand work... suddenly she was avoided like the plague. I also don’t understand why at no point was I told they had concerns handling my horse, especially around dinner time. I would not cared if my horse came in an hour early everyday so that they didn’t have to compete with the other horse that’s problematic to bring in. Which personally would’ve been the solution that was apparent to me as someone who has worked at a few barns. I also don’t understand how the horse who is a little too hyped up being brought in at dinner is somehow a worse horse to board than the _other _horse who gets crazy at dinner but also needs to be hobbled every single night so she can be stalled (otherwise she does her best to literally bring the walls down). If you’ve found a solution for that horse’s issues (bringing her in first & then hobbling her) then why is there no solution for my horse? 

Had I know my horse was being handled by the BO’s husband at a point where her behavior is likely to be less than predictable I wouldn’t have been okay with it. I would’ve volunteered myself to bring her in if it wasn’t possible to simply have them bring her in early. I’d already repeatedly asked to know when the BO was gone at a show so I could bring my horse in from turnout because I did not trust a non-horse person with my 2 year old. No matter how well behaved I think she is, she needs someone who knows horses. 

As far as issues with other boarders, they certainly was a contingency of people who seemed to purposefully slam the crossties into the wall when I was in the arena because it would spook my horse. Or similarly see that something was spooking my horse, make eye contact with me, and keep doing it. One woman very plainly made anything she did take about 3 times longer and be 10 times louder than normal if I was trying to work my horse. Notably suddenly choosing to pick out her horse’s paddock (the barn doesn’t do that and I was the only person who they’d ever had who’d asked if they could do that) while I was having some success loading & making such a ruckus that we lost all progress we’d been making. Was it everyone at the barn? No, but there were a few people being very pointed in their behavior and I think it legitimately came down to ye olde Western vs. English superiority complex. Since clearly I should be punished for my 2 year old not being dead quiet like all the semi-retired Quarter Horses. 

I think honestly, that’s the entire problem of why we ran into this. This was never a boarding facility I intended to work long-term, I wanted to move Mitzy in the Spring to the barn she’s at now... but I think it ended prematurely comes down to the discipline clash. I think the BO, her family, and the boarders who are her personal friends just have extremely different expectations for how a 2 year old should behave than what I do and what the people I work for do. It’s still standard for AQHA/APHA/AHC to not only have horses under saddle at 2, but to be in a pretty rigorous show schedule (futurities require horses to be started at 18mo). A lot of people think TBs/QHs/QH types mature “faster” than other breeds. The way I’ve learned to regard young horses and the industry standard I accept for starting young horses doesn’t view 2 year olds as adults. Nor are 3 year olds treated to the same stanard as say an 8 year old. Do I absolutely expect basic ground manners and developing in-hand skills? Yes, but I also anticipate 2-4 year olds to be unpredictable! So I’m never surprised when they try to jump out of their skin when a leaf falls too close to them. 

I am trying to see this as a learning experience and I think what I’ve learned from this is you really, really need to be compatible in your approach to expectations and handling as your boarding facility (no matter how temporary you plan for that situation to be). There are a lot of glaring issues with the magic of hindsight that point to this being an inevitable conclusion. I am really glad with where she’s at now! She’s at a dressage training/lesson barn that she’ll go into the program there once she starts under saddle. For now I’m just happy to be at a place where I can relax and enjoy my horse again--- plus I can take lessons at