#i just got anxiety. real bad. big sigh

[yandereshingeki]

if i had the confidence to post more on main you guys would never hear the end of me

[joelscruff]

forget my charms (dave york x f!reader) 18+

a/n finally watched equalizer 2 and he's been living in my mind rent free! i don't really know what this is tbh, it was kind of a challenge to myself to try and write a drabble because i'm notoriously bad at keeping fics short & sweet. so i'm not sure how i feel about the lack of real story here but we go anyway! enjoy & please be sure to read the warnings! summary: your new boss gives you a memorable first day. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: fingering, lap sitting, power imbalance, infidelity, unprotected p in v (doggy), creampie, finger sucking, dirty talk, praise kink, tie used as a gag word count: 1.5k

You only met him this morning. It had been brief, his office just one stop of many on your guided tour the first day of your new job. Your co-worker had tapped lightly on his door, opened it a crack and told him he should come meet the new hire. Your stomach had turned when you'd heard him sigh deeply on the other side - you were already feeling out of place, more than a little like a fish out of water, and the concept of disrupting the boss on the first day wasn't appealing in the slightest.

But he'd been gracious. He'd come to the door and opened it wider, stood beneath the arch with an appraising little smile on his lips as he looked at you. It had been memorable, the way he'd taken your hand in his large palm and squeezed, peering at you with something attentive in his eyes, almost... intrigued. Welcome, he'd told you, it's lovely to meet you.

And now, only hours later, his fingers are in your pussy.

Pumping slow and deep, rhythmic and filthy as you lounge in his lap with your legs wide and your head resting languidly against the heat of his neck. He's got your skirt pulled up, one big hand spread firm over your trembling belly while he fucks you with his middle and index. The flickering blue of his computer monitor is your only source of light, showering his office in a dim glow.

You whimper and his fingers still, lodged deep inside your heat. He hushes you softly, strokes your tummy with his thumb and leans back slightly in his chair.

"Shh, sweetheart," he murmurs, voice low and husky, "Don't want the night crew to know what we're doing in here, now do we?"

No, you certainly don't. Can't even imagine what the reaction would be were anyone from the office to know you're being fingered by the boss on your first day. You bite down on your lip and lean back into his lap, look down with hooded eyes as he slowly resumes the slow plunge of his fingers. They're so thick, coated in a clear gloss of your release that glows blue in the light. He places his thumb on your clit, applies pressure, and you let out another pathetic whimper.

"Ohh, poor thing," he admonishes gently, "You want something in your mouth to help you stay quiet?" his hand comes up to brush against your face, "Hm? You need something to suck on?"

Your brain feels empty but you nod anyway, eyelashes fluttering as he wastes no time in slipping the middle and index of his left hand past the wetness of your lips. You suck immediately, closing your eyes and feeling them roll behind your lids as he fucks two of your holes at once, just taking, using.

Is this why I'm here, you can't help but think to yourself, did I only get this job so he could play with me like some kind of doll?

You can't quite believe you're even in this situation. You'd stayed late in order to make a good impression, still had some things you needed to figure out at your desk anyway. Everyone else had slowly trickled out of the office, until you'd realized all that remained was you and Mr. York. He'd smiled at you through the open blinds of his office, leaning back in his chair with his legs wide and his arms stretched behind his head. He'd brought one down when your eyes had met, crooked his finger as if to say, Come here for a minute.

You'd gotten up from your desk and entered his office, anxiety building in the pit of your stomach. You'd hoped you weren't about to be reprimanded for something you thought would impress him.

But he didn't reprimand you. He didn't mention the fact that you were staying late, didn't ask about how the job was treating you, if there was anything you needed, no. Instead, he'd looked you up and down again with that assessing, calculative stare and murmured, "Can you come sit in my lap for a little while, sweetheart?"

You suppose you could've said no. Probably should have, actually. That would have been the most logical thing to do - slam the door and quit your job, maybe even sue for harassment. Anyone else probably would have. But you'd taken one look at his crotch, seen the noticeably thick shape that bulged against his thigh, and realized he'd been sitting there watching you for who knows how long. He'd gotten that hard just from looking, assessing.

Fuck it.

"There you go," he breathes softly now, peering at you with dark and imploring eyes as he fucks your mouth and pussy, "That's a good girl, honey, I know," his brow furrows when you whine around his fingers, "I know, baby. You're doing so good."

He rocks you in his lap like you belong there, and it's impossible not to feel the way his clothed cock throbs against your ass. You want to see it so badly, want to touch it, taste it - but he doesn't give you the opportunity. Instead, he circles his thumb against your clit until you're shaking in his arms, hands gripping anything you can reach - the chair, your knee, his wrist. Your orgasm rolls through you and his fingers muffle the sound of your whines, your gasps, until your bones feel like jelly and your heart has slowed. He stills his movements again and lazily pulls all four fingers out of you, watches you breathe deeply and fall back against him with goosebumps rising on your skin.

"Get up now, baby. Bend over the desk for me," he tells you in that low voice, "Show me your pussy."

You pull yourself out of his lap on extremely shaky legs but obey his orders, inching forward a little to position yourself against his desk. You can feel his eyes on you as you reach back and pull yourself apart for him, show him where his fingers have invaded and explored, opened you up and made you drool.

"Juicy little thing," you hear him murmur, and then his belt buckle is jangling and you know what comes next. Legs still trembling, you keep holding yourself open and push yourself further down onto the desk, skirt pulled high and panties still hanging off one of your ankles.

He's filling you up in no time at all, cock plunged deep to the hilt and so much bigger than you'd anticipated. His tip kisses a spot inside of you that you're not sure anyone's ever been able to reach, and against your own volition you moan, low and long, full of pleasure and desperation.

You hear him tsk somewhere above you, "You really can't stay quiet can you?" He says it softly but it's full of condescension, like it's starting to genuinely bother him. Before you can apologize he's reaching down for something, still bottomed out completely inside of you as his arms and hands seem to do something out of sight. A few seconds later his blue polka dotted tie appears in front of your face, and then he's carefully settling the soft material between your lips, pulling back and tying it meticulously behind your head. A makeshift gag.

"Gotta learn to be quiet when I fuck you, okay?" he breathes, raspy and dark as he slowly pulls his cock from your pussy, only to feed it back to you again just as slow, "You don't want us to get in trouble, do you?"

No, sir, you want to whisper, but you can't. All you can do is nod slightly and grip the desk when he starts to fuck you in earnest, thrusting deep and hard before pulling out and doing it all over again. Your thighs quiver and shake against the cool wood, and as you lay there and let him take, you spot something out of the corner of your eye.

A framed picture of a family - his family.

You avert your eyes, turning your head slightly to see where his left hand is gripping your shoulder as he fucks you - you spot the wedding ring immediately. Christ.

But you don't stop it. You don't push him away, you don't leave. Even though you probably should. Even though the logical part of your brain is screaming at you that what's happening really shouldn't be, especially now that you know he's a married man.

You just let him use you. You let him fuck and fill you until he's gripping your hair in his fist and his cock is spasming and pulsing inside of you. You let him release his entire load inside your pussy, bare and messy. And then you let him pull you into his chair, tug the tie from your mouth and situate you back in his lap, still impaled on his cock.

Neither of you speak for a solid minute. He catches his breath while you try not to look at the photograph, to forget its existence entirely.

"The last one quit the first day," you hear him mumble, voice edged with tiredness, "But you won't, will you?" He thrusts shallowly inside of you, holds you against his chest as his cum starts to leak out and dribble down the hefty shape of his balls. "You'll let me do this, huh?"

What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

[onceuponastory]

shopping spree

Plot: To fully enter the modern world, Bucky decides to switch up his wardrobe first, starting with some jeans. Unfortunately, he has no idea where to start with all the new trends and styles... but the sales assistant Y/N is more than happy to help. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader sort of Warnings: A few mentions of Bucky feeling like a man out of time and out of his depth. But as always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know! Notes: So I saw an anon on @anothersebastianblog mention that they wanted to see Bucky shopping for skinny jeans, and it gave me some inspo, so here we are! Also I wrote most on this on the bus to work after being up since 4am so....sorry if it makes 0 sense

Bucky stands with his arms crossed, jaw clenched. This is a nightmare. He should never have done this. Ever since he got his life back, he’s decided to try to fit in more, rather than being seen as an Avenger for the rest of his life. And since Sam constantly brings up his ‘dark and depressing’ wardrobe, his first step will be to make a change by updating his clothes. Starting with jeans.

Initially, it sounded like a great idea. But now, he’s completely lost, and doesn’t know where to start.

In front of him, various styles and colours are displayed. Ones that flare slightly at the bottom that look like something he saw in the 70s, more loose fits, and ones that look so tight, he would need to be cut out of them.

And are those…holes?

“Why the hell are they selling these things half finished?” Bucky grunts to himself.

Where is he even going to start?

How is he even going to start?

Maybe he should’ve just got Sam to show him online, or stuck with what he knows, what he’s comfortable with. This was a terrible idea and-

“Can I help you find something?” A voice asks, cutting through his stream of thoughts. 

Bucky turns to see a sales assistant smiling at him. But it’s not an overly fake smile like someone desperate for a sale. No, she seems like she genuinely wants to help him.

And for the first time that day, Bucky Barnes can relax.

“Yes, please. I’m a little lost.” He admits, his gaze flickering to the floor so he doesn’t see her reaction. Despite his big, tough and grumpy exterior… all Bucky wants is to feel like he belongs. Even though he’s an Avenger, he has never felt more lost and out of place. After being a man out of time for decades, placed in and out of cryosleep, he’s completely oblivious to what the modern world is like nowadays. And of course, being blipped didn’t help either. “I just don’t know what’s cool with the kids nowadays.” He sighs.

Y/N frowns. This man doesn’t even look that old, probably mid thirties. Definitely not old enough to say something like that. But he does look lost, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel a little bad for him. 

He is very cute though - with gorgeous silvery blue eyes, his short brown hair and stubble. She can also see muscles straining through his shirt, despite the jacket and…gloves? It’s enough to make her breath catch in her throat.

“Well, that depends.” She begins. “Nowadays, it’s more what you want to wear, rather than what’s ’cool with the kids’.” She chuckles. 

For a moment, Bucky frowns, expecting to be the butt of the joke. Instead, it’s the opposite. She’s laughing with him, making him feel comfortable. Bucky smiles, something in his gut fluttering.

“Thanks…” he glances at her name tag. “Y/N. I’m Bucky.”

“I love the way he says my name. And he has a lovely smile.” Y/N thinks. “Well, Bucky, I’ll show you our most popular styles and we can go from there.” Bucky nods. “Any colour ideas?”

“Black.” He answers quickly. Y/N nods. 

“A man after my own heart.” Bucky smiles. He wonders what it’d be like to know her in real life, outside of her job. To have a friend, one who isn’t an Avenger. A regular, normal civilian.

But just as he thinks that, has one moment of hope, it’s quickly squashed by his anxiety. “She’s just being polite to help you. She probably doesn’t even care about you that much. Nobody does.”

“You okay?” Y/N asks softly, bringing him back down to earth once again. “You kinda zoned out there.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He lies. This poor sales assistant definitely doesn’t get paid enough to hear all his woes.

Y/N nods, pulling out the first pair of jeans. “These are slightly baggy, and they’re really comfortable.” She says. “What do you think?”

“Uh….” He murmurs, still feeling completely out of his depth. “Maybe not yet.”

Next, a pair of skinny jeans. “It’s entirely up to you,” Y/N insists. “but these are definitely our most popular, and they’re always in fashion.”

“And they’re not… too skinny?” Bucky asks. Y/N shakes her head. 

“Nope, they’re nice and comfy.”

Honestly, the more Bucky thinks about it, the more he trusts Y/N and her judgment. So, he nods, and she adds them to the pile. 

She pulls out another pair, one with rips all over the legs. Bucky frowns. “Those aren’t even finished! They’re destroyed.”

Y/N shakes her head. “No! That’s the style. Very…rock and roll, I guess?”

“You’re serious? People wear jeans like this?”

“Deadly.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Not for me.”

“I think you’d suit them.” She admits, smiling. “Maybe not as many…extreme rips, but we have ones with just rips at the knees.” She suggests, holding up a pair. “It’s entirely up to you.”

Bucky frowns, thinking it over. Originally, it was a hard no. But Y/N does recommend them, and Sam said to try new things. And they don’t look that bad.

“Okay. Just cause I trust you.” He says, the words slipping out before he can stop them.

Y/N’s grin widens, a sight that sets him off too. “Aw, thanks Bucky.”

~ * ~

“Ready?” Y/N asks, leaning against the changing room wall.

“Almost!” Bucky calls. The door opens, and he steps out. He’s in a pair of basic black skinny jeans.

“How are they? How do you feel?”

“I feel…great!” Bucky grins, staring at himself in the mirror. He looks so happy, so confident, that Y/N can’t help but smile just as wide as him. 

He turns, admiring the way he looks. Y/N can’t help but let her eyes drift lower. His ass looks incredible in the jeans, and she can’t help but feel her cheeks heating up. He’s gorgeous. “What do you think?” Bucky asks, oblivious to her staring.

Or at least she hopes he is.

“Y-Yeah.” She stammers. “You look incredible.”

~ * ~

After trying on all his picks, Bucky and Y/N go to pay. “Thank you so much for this.” Bucky says. “You really helped me feel a lot more comfortable and confident with this whole thing.”

“Not at all.” She chuckles. “It was my pleasure.”

Y/N rings up his jeans, and Bucky watches her. Maybe he could ask if they want to hang sometime? No, that’s creepy. She’s just doing her job, not flirting. She doesn’t even feel the same about him.

“Can I get your number?” She smiles. Bucky goes red. Or maybe she does feel the same.

“I mean, we just met, but if you wanna…..” He stammers, pulling out his phone. Y/N’s eyes widen.

“Oh, not like that.” She gasps quickly. Immediately, Bucky's heart sinks. “I just mean it’s for our rewards program. When you give us your phone number, you receive points each time you shop. After a while, you get a discount. It’s a good deal.”

Right then, Bucky wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

“Oh! Oh, I-I mean…sure.” His skin is burning with embarrassment now, and he can’t wait to pay and get this over with.

Despite the second hand embarrassment flowing through her veins, the look on Bucky’s face makes Y/N’s face soften.

Honestly, she would give him her number. He may be just a customer, but there’s something different about him, something that seems to pull her closer to him.

“There you go.” Bucky quickly pays and takes the bag, ready to get out of here and home to Alpine. As he walks away, Y/N sighs. “Bye, Bucky.”

~ * ~

Later that day, Bucky takes out his new jeans. Alpine curls up in the empty shopping bag, swatting at the receipt. “Hey!” Bucky chuckles, pulling it away. “That’s not yours, buddy.”

As he lifts it up to put it away, trying to dodge his cat’s claws, Bucky spots something. A note is scribbled on the back of the receipt: 

Hope to see you again soon, Bucky. If you ever need style advice, you know where to find me. Y/N :)

Bucky grins, placing the receipt down.

He was looking for some new t-shirts, funnily enough.

~ * ~

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[sorrowsofsilence]

I Was Always Yours

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Words: 4.1k

Part Two

Warnings: smut 18+, fluff, swearing, unprotected s*x (pls wrap it b4 u tap it), female recieving, PnV penetration.

Summary: You grew up with Nick Ruffilo and Noah, but its been years since you’ve seen your best friends due to them being away touring. When Ruffilo came back to your hometown, opening his home tattoo studio, you get the opportunity to reconnect with him, and Noah. Deep down you’ve always had something for Noah, and it turns out he’s always felt something for you too. Perhaps seeing eachother years later, after you’ve both changed, sparked something.

Author note: This is short haired Noah era! <3 I just couldn’t resist using the beautiful photo of Noah above :3 Also, I haven’t written on tumblr in years, but I thought I’d come back with this fluff/smut! Enjoy if this finds you! <3

PS. THIS IS A FANFIC ABOUT REAL PEOPLE IN FICTIONAL SCENARIOS. I AM NOT IMPLYING THIS IS HOW THESE PEOPLE ARE IRL OR THAT THIS SITUATION WOULD HAPPEN. IT IS FOR FANFIC PURPOSES ONLY!

I finally gathered the courage to turn off my car, letting the crisp autumn air bite at my cheeks as I stepped outside. Taking in a shaky breath I allowed my legs to carry me towards the door, my hands clammy and fingers fidgety.

The boys were always simple- and even their nice townhouse was in an everyday neighbourhood, with nothing elaborate on the outside. Just as it had always been, as if time never flew by.

I didn’t know why I was so nervous. I’ve known Nick and Noah for years. We were neighbours growing up, went to high school together, and even shared memories from our adulthood. These boys knew me and I knew them, but I knew that things were different now. 

The boys had just finished tour, and have grown exponentially in their music careers. They walked around with security now, and had fans dedicated to finding out everything about their lives- they’ve become a spectacle; no longer just Nick, or just Noah. 

The nerves also came because I didn’t even know if I’d be seeing Noah. Admittedly, he was my first crush; and really, I don’t think it ever left. When I first met him in seventh grade he sported a shaggy haircut and a dorky grin, and he’s held my heart with iron bars ever since. Over the years I had just accepted that my feelings would never be reciprocated, and we both dated other people on and off. 

It’s been almost three years since I last got to see him due to the pandemic, and we only ever texted each other on big life events, like birthdays, or during the release of their album. I knew the boys were back when Nick sent out a message that he was looking to tattoo again. I sported a few of Nick’s pieces, but I was looking to get a cover-up of a bad decision I made during a past relationship. I texted Nick asking if he was available, and here I am; right outside Nick’s house. 

I sighed deeply, trying to persuade the anxiety out of my lungs, before knocking, following the pattern I had always used when I was younger. Within seconds I was greeted by a pair of grey-green eyes and a wide smile, my nervousness beginning to cease.

“Y/N!” I was pulled into a bone-crushing hug, and I let out a sigh of relief I didn’t know I was holding in. My grin matched his own as I wrapped my arms around him, squeezing back, laughing.

“It’s nice to see you Ruffilo.” 

We pulled away from each other and shared another smile. I took off my leather Doc Martens, straightening my fuzzy red polka-dot socks before giving him another hug, smiling into his neck.

“It’s been way too long,” Nick said, giving me an empathetic glance as we separated. “Life has just been crazy.”

“Yeah, I almost wonder if I should be bowing to you right now considering how famous you’ve gotten,” I couldn’t help but laugh, and Nick rolled his eyes, leading me down the hall. The place was neat; white paint, and light flooring. Various Bad Omen’s posters and records hung neatly on the wall, along with other abstract art pieces. It was delicate and simple, just as they way they always kept it. It’s nice to see that they haven’t changed in that regard. 

“Trust me, no bowing is required.” Nick turned back to face me, his smile radiating, before motioning at a door ahead, and I walked into a small office filled with tattoo supplies. It was Nick’s mini-home tattoo studio. 

“Wow, this is awesome Nick. You’ve always wanted your own little studio.” I said, looking at his work plastered on the wall, soaking it in with awe.

He sighed happily, “Yeah, when we were looking for a house that was one of my requirements. I needed my own space; just because we make music doesn’t mean I’ll give up tattooing.”

I nodded, taking a seat on the chair. “Thank you for seeing me by the way, I appreciate you squeezing me in.”  

“Hey, for you, I’d do anything.” He smiled warmly, sitting across from me. 

Nick and I chatted for almost an hour before even starting the tattoo. We caught up and talked about tours, and I loved getting to listen to his stories about performing and getting to travel the world. It seemed like the dream, especially considering that before the pandemic, they joked about only pleasing ten fans.

However, the entire time I felt distracted. The only thing my mind kept wandering to was if Noah was home, or if he was going to show up. I felt ashamed being so disconnected from the conversation with Nick; because he was someone I cared about deeply. Yet, my thoughts took me elsewhere. 

“You alright?” Nick asked gently, as he started preparing his supplies, glancing at me teasingly.

“Oh yeah! I’m good!” I smiled reassuringly and Nick echoed me, chuckling to himself.

“What?” I asked him, the cheesy grin plastered on his face making me nervous.

“Noah will be home soon, he’s just out with Davis.” 

I stared at him, my cheeks beginning to flush, “Okay, cool?” I shrugged nonchalantly, but my stomach immediately began doing spirals, nerves bubbling throughout my veins.

Nick wiped my thigh, preparing the location for the stencil quietly before asking, “You never told him how you felt?” 

I watched him cautiously, eyes flickering between his hands and his eyes, “I- I don’t feel anything,” I shook my head, ears getting even hotter. “That was so long ago.”

Nick looked up through his lashes, looking very unconvinced, “Sure, and I don’t play in a band.”

Rolling my eyes, I gave him an annoyed smile, “It would be nice to see him. It’s been a long time- and he doesn’t post anything online anymore, or text.”

Nick nodded as he wiped and re-drew the outline on my leg, “Noah’s been pretty recluse. He’s gotten a lot of anxiety from the fame; mostly just sticks to himself when we finish shows. Plus, he doesn’t enjoy dealing with some of the fans.” 

I frowned, feeling myself get sad. Noah has always been pretty introverted, but it looked like he was getting out of his shell on stage. He was playing into the pretty boy facade he had going, and he knew he was hot. I’ve seen plenty of videos from the tour. 

“Well, I hope he is doing alright,” I said softly, looking around the room again for any form of distraction.

As if on cue I heard the front door open, and a yell cascaded down the hall, “You better not have a girl in your room,” he had teased.

Immediately I felt the hair on my neck stand in anticipation, realizing that the voice belonged to Noah. My fingers began to tingle as all the blood rushed towards my face, my chest losing any ounce of breath I was just able to exhale.

His voice bounded across the walls again, “but, these are some pretty sick boots.”

“Got someone even better,” Nick yelled back, laughing, “In the tattoo room.”

A head of brunette hair popped in the doorway, his eyes immediately widening as if his whole world suddenly began to spin within milliseconds. A small flush of colour ran down his ears onto the tops of his cheekbones, before a wide, childlike smile appeared on his face. He stepped into the room, immediately crossing his arms, and leaning on the side of the table as if he thought he was doing something charming.

“No fucking way, look what the cat dragged in,” his Virginian accent dancing off his tongue. 

I looked back at him, my heart racing even faster. I know it’s been a long time since I’ve seen him, but he did take my breath away. Noah looked older, but healthy, becoming a lot more muscular and defined, despite his height and lank still being there. His hair was short, a layer of bangs hanging across his forehead in a messy sweep. It was the first time I’d seen him in person without his long hair, all 13 inches gone; but it suited him. I soaked in his appearance, noticing a few new tattoos layered around his fingers as well, my heart yearning. 

“Is that really my Y/N/N?” he stared at me, the grin not leaving his face, especially after using my childhood nickname. Noah walked towards me shyly with open arms, squinting his eyes in contentment as he invited me in for a hug.

“the one and only.” I breathed a nervous laugh, standing up. Shaky limbs carried me over to him and he wrapped his arms around me, engulfing me within his body. 

I composed myself, inhaling slowly, before hugging back, squeezing his torso. I felt so small compared to him, yet I still fit right between his arms, as if I was meant to always be there, a spot reserved just for me. We rocked back and forth in a tight embrace, his chest vibrating as he let out a happy chuckle. 

“Oh my god, it’s been so long.” I could hear the happiness radiating off of him.

I sighed with relief at his reaction; he must’ve missed me too. He held onto me for a moment more, and I breathed in his scent, recognizing his favourite Dior cologne. Smiling into his chest, It felt comfortable- it felt familiar. Years of memories flooded back, my heart recalling, reminding myself that he was who I had been missing in my life all along. 

“Wow, you’ve changed Y/N,” Noah said as he pulled away, stepping back slightly, taking me in with a look of awe. He absorbed all of me, drinking in my image, before grabbing the sides of my face, and staring into me with an immense amount of appreciation. 

I looked up at him in admiration, studying his deep October eyes as they sang unspoken words, retelling a story that only our bodies knew. 

“Your hair,” I said as my hand unconsciously found its way to his locks.

My fingers flowed down his no longer existing threads, reminiscing of his past image. That chapter of his life was gone. He’s been reborn into a much more confident man, a newer version of the Noah that once was. I almost longed for his old appearance, because I didn’t know this Noah- but by the way his eyes gleamed, he was still mine. 

Noah chuckled, “Yeah, I was tired of getting it in my mouth when singing.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, leaning into his hand, before pulling away to look at Nick.

Nick gave us a sly smile, shaking his head gently. 

“I didn’t expect to see you,” Noah sighed, still smiling. I swear it hasn’t left his face since he saw me. He looked over at Nick, “And you didn’t even tell me?”

“I thought it would be a fun surprise,” Nick looked at Noah playfully, before patting the tattoo chair. I took a seat again, positioning my thigh within Nick's reach. 

“You’re getting some ink?” Noah asked, folding his arms in approval as he leaned over me, looking at the stencil outlined on my skin. 

“Yeah, Nick said he wanted to tattoo again, and I needed an excuse to visit,” I said cheekily. 

Noah nodded repeatedly, still analyzing my thigh. “You never needed an excuse. You should’ve texted us. Texted me.”

I shrugged, “I didn’t want to get in the way. You guys are busy- especially now. the last thing you need is unnecessary messages or phone calls.” 

“I haven’t seen you in like three years Y/N,” Noah said, sighing a sad smile. He sat down on a stool, folding his ankle over his knee. 

Nick began to outline the tattoo, and I winced briefly,  “I know.” 

“You never came to see us on this tour.” Noah looked at the floor, analyzing the outline of his white vans. I glanced at him quickly, before concentrating on Nick’s hands. “You know we’d have gotten you in right?”

I gave him a mournful look, “I’d pay just like everyone else, Noah. I don’t expect anything…but I honestly just got super busy.”

“I was really hoping you’d be there.” 

I felt my heart clench and my chest tighten at his words. “I’m sorry.” I peered over at him, barely being able to maintain eye contact as I chewed the inside of my cheek.

“I’m sorry I didn’t invite you either; it does go both ways,” Noah said, and we shared a wry smile. 

“You should come see us this weekend,” Nick said while concentrating. I furrowed my eyebrows as he scratched along my skin, the area beginning to redden. Despite having multiple tattoos, I never enjoyed the experience of getting them. 

“What time? And where?” I asked, biting the inside of my cheek, and closing my eyes at the burning sensation. 

Noah scrolled on his phone before I felt my own buzz. Looking at it, I saw a message from Noah. It was a ticket with VIP access. 

“I don’t need VIP,” I looked at him in appreciation. 

Noah smiled down at his phone, “Well last time I checked, VIP stands for ‘very important persons’, and arguably our childhood bestie is in that category.” 

“Well, thank you.” I smiled gratefully, butterflies still knocking on every organ in my body.

“So,” Noah began, shifting positions so he was leaning his elbows on his knees, peering over to stare at my leg, “You and Sean broke it off?”

I followed his gaze, staring at the faded puzzle piece beneath the purple markings of Nick's outline. 

Sean was my first serious boyfriend. We were friends in high school, and admittedly always had some sort of connection. We started dating, and were together for four years; before I found somebody else sleeping with him in our bedroom. 

I looked longingly at the puzzle piece, my eyes snapping away once Nick began lining on top of it, covering away the layers of regret, “He cheated on me.” 

Turning to face Noah, his face immediately shifted from sympathetic to anger, “What a complete fucking tool.” He spat, folding his arms in the chair. Noah’s reaction surprised me, but I nodded in agreement. 

“Yep.” I sighed, shrugging my shoulders, “Note to self, don’t get a matching tattoo. You probably won't be with that person forever.” I said, pessimistically. 

Noah was quiet for a moment, his teeth chewing on his bottom lip as he contemplated his question, “Did you catch him?”  

I nodded, furrowing my eyebrows in annoyance, “In our bedroom too.” 

Noah scoffed, audibly groaning while he tilted his head back in hostility, “Pathetic piece of shit. I never liked him being with you.” 

My heart raced as Noah glared at the puzzle piece that began to disappear on my thigh, “At least now you’ll get to have a better piece of art on your body.”

“Exactly,” I smiled proudly, watching Nick’s hands run along the skin, “and it’s the one and only Nicholas Ruffilo’s handy work too.” 

Nick glanced up smiling. It was quiet for a moment, and I chewed on my lip, anxious to ask.

“What about you? Any ladies?” I said to Noah playfully, winking. Deep down though, I was hoping the answer was no one.

Noah gave me a small smile, “No one at the moment, last relationship ended poorly.” 

“That makes two of us.” I chuckled sorrowfully 

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+

Noah pushed me against the bedroom door, lips attached to my own hastily. His kiss was desperate and hungry as he cupped my face in his hands, and I felt weak in the knees as our hips were pushed together, the heat radiating off of him. 

“You have no idea how long I have waited to do this.” He breathed between kisses.

My hands found their way to Noah’s hair, rubbing my fingers along his scalp affectionately. I smiled through his lips, eagerly holding myself against him. 

“It was so worth the wait.” He whispered, pulling away and putting his forehead against my own. He stared into me, right through me with so much intent. I had always wanted to kiss him, and my heart skipped a beat as I realized where he was, succumbing to me. 

I closed my eyes, smiling, “you have no idea how badly I wanted that too.”

He smiled widely, glancing down at my lips again, this time pulling me into his arms while kissing me with force and passion.

“Tell me how badly,” he whispered, running his fingers delicately across my waist and I melted into his touch.

“Honestly? Probably ever since we met.” I admitted, my face turning red with embarrassment at the confession, “and it’s never gone away.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Noah pulled away from the kiss, running his hand up my arm to cup the side of my face again, thumb tracing a gentle circle along my cheekbone. He looked desperate for an answer as if this was all he’s ever wanted to hear. I felt Noah’s heartbeat racing rapidly through his chest, which heaved heavily against my own. 

“I never thought you felt that way, and I didn’t want to push anything because I didn’t want to lose you,” I confessed, looking away nervously. 

Noah hummed quietly, pulling my chin towards him in another delicate kiss. His lips were warm and gentle. “You’ll never lose me. No matter how long it’s been.”

Noah began running his hands up and down my sides before sliding them between my skin and the hem of my jeans. Immediately I felt flush, and I let my own hands ride up his black t-shirt. His skin was soft and warm, and my fingertips began to tingle with nerves.

Noah hooked his fingers in the loop of my jeans, tugging me towards him and trailing us toward his desk. My thighs hit the back of it, and Noah lifted me gently, placing me on top, and positioning himself between my legs. His warm hands caressed my lower back, creating goosebumps as his nails trailed up and down the skin lightly. I shivered from the sensation.

Noah’s tongue swiped my bottom lip, and I allowed him to kiss me deeper, our tongues melding together. I began tugging at his shirt, and Noah let out a low chuckle.

“You sure you want to do this?” Noah pulled away from my lips to stare into my eyes, looking at me sternly, and analyzing every movement I made.

“yes,” I whined, almost embarrassingly needy, “Do you?”

Noah hung his head, shaking it slowly, “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to fuck someone so badly in my entire life,” He looked up with hooded eyes.

“Then take me however you want.” I sighed, pulling at his shirt again, and Noah looked at me darkly with lust, his October eyes fading into an onyx abyss.

Noah pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his tattooed chest; I stared at the ink longingly, remembering when he first got his desolate tattoo. I traced my fingers over the letters delicately, smiling to myself. This moment between us felt like I was reminiscing over all my lost time with Noah.

“Do you still feel this way?” I asked softly, as Noah pulled off my own shirt, leaving me exposed in my pink laced bra. Noah placed his hand on top of mine as I traced the last letter.

He shook his head, “No, but it will always be a reminder of when I felt empty.”

“I'm glad you don’t feel that way anymore,” I whispered, and Noah’s hands explored my body once again, before pulling on the hem of my jeans.

Bringing me into a kiss again, he fiddled with the zipper before tugging my pants down my legs, leaving me exposed in my underwear.

“I’ve probably envisioned you naked weekly.” Noah admitted as he kissed down my neck, hands roaming over every inch of skin in desperation, “I need to taste you, princess.”

I blushed at his words, and Noah’s kisses trailed further from my neck, teeth grazing across my collarbone to between my breasts. His breath quickened as he kissed lower and lower, licking down my stomach until he stopped right at the edge of my underwear.

“This okay?” He breathed heavily, his own face flushing. I nodded, and Noah pulled at the lace, revealing me.

“Fuck,” He groaned, looking up through his eyelashes briefly before placing his mouth against me, letting his slim fingers trace patterns across the sensitive skin.

Noah’s tongue circled me before he inserted two fingers, and I let out a moan. He pumped slowly, moaning quietly against me, “Oh, you wouldn’t want Nick to hear.”

I squeezed my thighs together around his head in pleasure, and Noah’s free hand gripped my thigh, pulling me even closer.

I began to pant faster, trying to be quiet, “Oh my god Noah,” I let my head fall back, resting against the wall as Noah ate me out feverishly, like this was his last meal. His fingers curled upwards, the repetitive motion sending my abdomen into a knot of fulfillment, my legs shaking against his body.

“Fuck, I need to stop or I'm going to come in my pants- and I don’t want to yet.” Noah’s eyebrows furrowed with pleasure. Taking his fingers that were inside me into his mouth, he licked them clean before pulling himself up. I watched in disbelief- that was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen him do; even compared to Noah’s stage performances of The Death of Peace of Mind. He grabbed my ass, hoisting me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist. Noah was extremely hard, his clothed member digging into me as he carried me towards his bed; he kissed me again and I tasted myself off of his tongue.

Noah laid me on the bed, kissing along my neck again as my hands roamed his hair before he unclasped my bra and pulled my panties down, exposing me fully to him.

“You are gorgeous, shit,” Noah mumbled, absorbing me with his eyes as he pulled his shorts down hastily, and I couldn’t help but let my own eyes wander across Noah’s fully exposed body, swallowing hard.

A new warmth washed over me as I got even wetter between my legs, the familiar feeling of excitement preparing my body for Noah’s; but this was different. This time it was Noah, here in front of me. Noah ran his fingers along my folds, moaning and internally begging to replace his hands with his own heat longing to be touched.

Noah spit into his hand and I watched attentively, following his every move as my body shivered. Noah rubbed along himself, before positioning his body above mine.

We shared eye-contact again and I nodded in approval before Noah pushed inside, his body immediately shuddering as I moved my hips against his, and he sighed deeply, squeezing his eyes closed briefly.

“God fucking dammit, you feel so good, princess.”

My legs parted as Noah’s body sunk into mine, his thrusts getting deeper and heavier. I let out another moan, “Oh- my-god-Noah.”

Words were coiled at my throat as Noah pounded into me, hands on either side of my head, his necklace dangling in my face.

“Look at me.” Noah’s voice was rough, and I stared into his eyes. He watched me with every thrust, and I mumbled a string of messy swears, my body clenching around his.

Noah’s arms wrapped around my body, pulling me up so I was positioned on top of him, but so that there was enough leverage for him to continue to thrust into me from below. This new position allowed him to penetrate me deeper and groaned with every entrance of his body into mine.

Noah grabbed the back of my neck and the middle of my back, holding me still as he fully gave himself into me before pulling me into another kiss. His mouth attached to mine hastily, bucking his hips aimlessly. Noah’s moans were almost louder than mine as he shamelessly allowed himself a pleasure.

“Mark me, Noah, show me I was always yours.” I whimpered, and Noah immediately attached to my neck, biting and sucking against the delicate skin that was pinned along my neck.

I heaved into his ear, resting my forehead on his shoulder as he held my hips, allowing myself to completely undo myself, moaning as my body reached my climax.

“Fuck me, Noah,” I panted, gripping his arms as I clenched around him, letting him thrust into me as I rode out my high.

Noah pulled my neck back to look at him again, sweat dripping across his forehead and his eyebrows furrowed in rapture, “please let me cum inside you Y/N.”

I nodded, kissing him eagerly, our saliva melding together as Noah moaned into the kiss. His body quivered as he released himself, exhaling in short breaths of satisfaction.

“Holy shit,” Noah mumbled into my neck, and I held onto him, a smile plastering itself onto my face. We sat there for a moment, panting against each other as our chests heaved, sweat attaching us together. I ran my fingers along Noah’s hair again, absorbing his handsome features, and taking him in.

He looked up at me, his eyes back to their October glow, but now replaced with a gleam of devotion. He tucked the loose strands of my H/C hair behind my ear.

I placed my lips lightly on his, “I missed you so fucking much Noah.”

“I missed you so much princess,” Noah’s hand grabbed the back of my head gently, caressing me into his chest and holding on protectively. He pulled a blanket over us as we lay together out of breath, both relishing the high of our orgasms and the story we just created together.

“I guess I thought you got too busy to be my friend,” I whispered vulnerably as we lay underneath his covers, the story we created longing against my skin.

Noah’s head rested on top of my own, and I felt his body stiffen slightly, “life has been crazy, everything is so different now. We are no longer just screaming in my garage.” He rubbed my arm, nails trailing across my skin once again.

I nodded against him in understanding, “I know. I hope you know I watched every single concert online that I could. I followed so many fan pages just to keep updated on how you were doing.”

Noah pulled me away from him softly, he looked at me with awe, “Did you really?” 

“Of course.” I looked up, smiling at him in adoration. 

“I was always hoping you’d show up again at my doorstep sometime. You have no idea how happy I am right now.” He laughed, pulling me into him again. I smiled against his chest, absorbing this moment, worried it might be my last.

“I love you, Noah Sebastian Davis.”

“I love you most Y/N Y/L/N.”

Part Two if you want more smut ;)

[lovelybucky1]

Bad Guys Win

Kinktober Day 13- Knife Kink

part two of "nice guys finish last" but can be read as standalone fic

warnings: AFAB!reader, horror movies, referenced violence, knife play, dirty talk, under negotiated kink, dom/sub dynamics, 18+ minors DNI

main masterlist

kinktober masterlist

Ever since that night Anakin got you high and confessed his desire for you, you've been spending a lot more time together. You're still just friends, but now your relationship has a lot more benefits than it did prior.

Tonight Anakin invited you over because he had the house to himself. It was far too casual to be a date, but he got pizza delivered and there was cold beer on the table, so at least he made an effort.

You had no delusions about why you were there. It's a hookup between friends. Good friends, sure. Ones who care about each other very deeply, but it was still just sex.

That's why you were confused when Anakin grabbed your arm and led you down the stairs to the basement. It's technically unfinished, but it was a large area rug, a couch, and a TV hooked up with your brother's PlayStation.

He told you it was movie night and rifled through the shelf of movie cases. He chose Friday the 13th because it was fitting for the day. You fondly rolled your eyes at his joke and joined him on the couch once he got the DVD in the player.

He pressed up against your side on the couch and pulled the classic yawn move and put his arm around you. It was a bit odd to cuddle with Anakin like this, but you know him well enough that the closeness wasn't uncomfortable. The closeness did, however, allow him to feel every twitch of your body.

You jump when Jason pops out of no where, jostling Anakin.

"You okay?" he asks, chuckling.

You scoff. "I'm fine."

"Are you scared? Don't worry, your big brother will protect you," he jokes.

You elbow him in the ribs. "Don't call yourself that, freak."

Anakin just laughs and turns his attention back to the movie.

When it gets to the final chase scene, you're squirming with anxiety. You know it's just a movie, but the suspense gets you to. Anakin looks down at you with a smirk on his lips.

"Would you fuck him?" Anakin asks.

Your head snaps to the side, looking at him with furrowed brows. "Jason?"

"Yeah," Anakin says.

"You mean the crazy killer with the knife?"

Anakin adjusts his position so he can see you better. "Yeah. I mean like, you don't have to think he's hot. But if it was me, would you fuck me?"

What a weird fucking question. You can't tell if he's genuinely curious or if he's fishing for some kind of compliment.

"I guess," you shrug.

"If I had the mask and the knife?"

"Yes, Anakin," you sigh, getting annoyed that he's talking over the climax of the movie.

"Would you like it if I chased you?" he asks, his voice suddenly taking on a different tone. "Would you be my final girl?"

You raise your eyebrow at him. "Is this a sex thing?" you ask.

"Yeah," he smirks. "Think about it. You'd play the little, innocent helpless victim and I'd be the big bad killer. Maybe you got wrapped up in a relationship with a guy who's a bad influence nothin' but trouble," he says as he leans closer to you. "He brings you right to me and I have to have you. I get him out of the way first, and after that, you're all mine."

You lean back as Anakin advance, but when the back of your head hits the couch, you realize you have no where else left to go. Your heart begins to race in his chest as his eyes look over you hungrily. You can't deny that you're getting a little excited despite not knowing what Anakin is up to.

Suddenly, Anakin shifts. He leans up a bit and reaches behind him, searching for something in his back pocket. He reveals a small silver pocket knife that glints in the light from the screen.

He flips the blade of the knife up and you can see the sharp silhouette in the dark. It's only about three inches long, nothing like Jason's, but this one is real.

"I've got you now," he smirks.

The arm around your shoulder turns from comforting to restraining. He's holding you firmly in place by your shoulder with his other hand being occupied by the knife.

"You're crazy," you breathe.

"You want me to stop?" Anakin asks, dropping the knife for a moment.

You consider, but you're open to trying new things and this is obviously something that gets Anakin going.

"No," you say. "Just don't kill me."

Anakin grins, his white teeth glowing in the dark. He raises the knife again and lets the tip of the blade catch on the fabric of your shirt.

"I'm not gonna kill you, you're too special. I'm gonna keep you for myself."

Anakin is now leaning over top of you, blocking your view of the TV. His hand holds your shoulder firmly and his knee is resting on the cushion between your legs. You're trapped, but you don't want to get away.

Anakin tips your chin up with the flat of the knife, making you look at him. He tilts his head condescendingly and looks at you with pity.

"You're lucky I'm the one who got you. Some of the other guys aren't so generous. They like to see pretty things like you bleed dry, but I prefer to keep 'em wet," he says.

You're unclear of the story that goes along with this little fantasy, but you suppose that's not necessary to play the role of the helpless victim.

"Why are you doing this to me?" you ask, using a higher pitched voice to play up the desperation.

Anakin seems elated at your participation in his game. "Because I saw you squirmin' during the movie. This shit turns you on, huh?"

You whine when he shakes you. "No it doesn't," you say. "I was scared."

Anakin hums, not believing you. "Maybe you're more of the Ghostface type then. Would you fuck him?"

Suddenly you feel too shy to maintain eye contact with Anakin. You don't know how he read you like that, but he's right. You've always had a thing for Ghostface. Not the killing, but the voice and that flirty tone he used.

"Yeah, you fucking would," Anakin grins. "So that's your type, huh? I can do that for you, baby."

Anakin has never called you baby before and it does something to you. The tenderness of the pet name combined with the sharp metal waving in your face makes for a confusing mixture of desire in your abdomen.

Before your mind can catch up with your body to realize what's happening, Anakin has you on your back on the floor. He's kneeling over you, straddling your torso. In this position, the side of his face is lit by the TV and he looks hotter than ever. The manic grin on his lips, the lust in his eyes, the line of his throat.

"Aren't you gonna try to run?" he asks. When you shake your head no, he laughs. "Some final girl you are. Just handing yourself over to the bad guy to do whatever he pleases with you."

Anakin tosses the knife on the couch, then grabs the waistband of your sweatpants and panties and pulls them down together. You lift your hips to help him get them off and once you're bare, he slots himself between your legs and hooks them over his shoulders.

"And bad guys like me love ruining pretty things like you," he smirks wickedly.

[seospicybin]

TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

PART III

Bangchan x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle Masterlist

Synopsis: You and Chan become contestants in a reality dating show, Too Hot To Handle. (11,7k words)

Author's note: Season 3 is done! See you on the next season :)

YOU: $0? [Facepalms] So, where do we go from here?

-

The bright sunny day is not working to cheer everyone up after the shocking announcement that there's no money left in the prize fund.

You've been sitting outside with Chan, holding each other's hand and trying to process everything while looking at the beautiful view of the endless sea and the surface of water glimmering under the sun.

Chan has been quiet for too long and it's concerning. You decide to break the silence, shaking his hand and saying, "We spent too much money, babe."

He sighs and rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, "Too much."

You don't want to put salt on the wound but it's time to face the the truth that you both fucked up.

"We let them down. We let everyone down," you say with a heavy heart.

He looks at you and sees you in the eyes, "I'm sure there'll be a way to make it up to them."

He doesn't sound that confident with what he said but you're grateful that in a time like this, he tries his best to comfort you.

"And we'll show them that we have a genuine connection," he says with a soft smile.

You return the smile and put your other hand on your clasped hands, "We took a big step last night."

Physical connection is not that new to you but after last night, you can feel that something shifts between the two of you into something that is peculiarly new yet familiar at the same time.

"I feel closer. I feel more connected to you," you honestly tell him the changes you felt.

"That's true," he agrees with a smile that is more brighter and hopeful than before.

You take the chance to comfort him this time and sweetly smile at him, "We got each other," you remind him.

It's you and him versus everyone. For better or worse, through ups and downs, you face it together. You may be at the bottom now but you're sure you both will be back on top, together.

"Always," he says.

He brings your mouth close to his mouth and kisses it, "Since day one."

That makes you take a look back. You've been going through so much together and it makes you realize that with him, you feel like you can do anything.

Together you are invincible.

-

YOU: I feel terrible for what I did but at least, now I no longer doubt the feelings I have for Chris. It feels real now and it's scary... in the best way.

-

In the afternoon, Lana calls everyone to the cabana.

Chan hasn't recovered from the announcements from this morning yet so he's not keen to know what's coming his way, he has an inkling that it's not good for him and you.

Just like you read his mind, you place a soft kiss on his neck and wipe the lipstick mark you left on it with your thumb.

"We got each other," you whisper.

Chan is grateful for you, you've been so open and understanding, even though he's a hard-shell type of person, you make it hard for him not to let you in.

The chime comes and Jace gags in response. The melodic chime is certainly, anxiety-inducing.

"The prize fund is currently at $0," Lana announces as if everyone has forgotten about it.

"However, there will be more tests and opportunities to replenish the prize fund," she further informs.

It's like everyone is collectively letting out a big sigh of relief and getting a breath of fresh air at the mention that there's a way to return some money into the pot.

"I'll commence the first test," Lana continues.

Chan gets stressed once again and so is everyone. Test means he's not doing great, test means that it's not going to be easy, test means bad.

The worst thing that could happen is his name got called by Lana for that test.

Like he manifested it into reality, Lana does call his name along with yours. He sees you look at him and feels bad that he can't show a brave face to you.

"I gifted you watches as an incentive to connect on a physical level for the right reasons. Yet you have shown a complete disregard for my gift and your fellow guests."

He looks at you and you put on a thin smile for him, he puts his arm around you to pull you closer, he needs something to hold on to.

"Therefore, drastic action is required," Lana sternly says.

-

CHRIS: I've messed up. Big time. [Deeply exhales]

-

Deep down, you know you deserve what's coming for you but you don't want to go home, no, not yet.

"You both..." Lana drags her words to heighten the suspense.

You and Chan still have some growing to do as a couple and if Lana is kind enough to let you stay, you'd be very grateful. If not, then... it's not like you didn't see this coming.

You have to own up to your mistakes so whatever happens, you will try to accept it.

"... have 12 hours to prove you can connect on a deeper, more emotional level."

You feel a little lighter knowing that it's not an elimination but it's not time to be relieved yet, you're still waiting for the catch.

"If you fail to get a green light in those 12 hours, your time here will be terminated."

There it is. The catch. This is you and Chan's biggest test yet. There's no wasting time, you have 12 hours to prove or you go home.

"Your time starts now!" Lana announces.

-

YOU: This is going to be a challenge for us. We've never really talked about our emotions.

-

It's going to be harder for Chan.

He realizes he rarely talked about his feelings with you. His default setting is to show affection through actions so he is never good at verbalizing it.

"I don't want to go home," you tell him, cuddling on the sofa outside, "I want to spend more time with you."

He holds your hand and puts it close to his chest, "I don't want to go home either but I just—"

He inhales air and finishes his sentence, "It's not easy for me, talking about emotions."

"We can try," you say with your fingers lightly caressing his bare chest.

You tilt your head to face him, "You know what? I'll start," you volunteer.

He puts your hair away from being blown by the wind and holds it there for you, "Yeah?"

"Remember when we first met and I made you tell your name again?"

He nods as the recollection of it plays in the back of his head.

"I pretended not to hear it because I wanted those lips near me," you confess with a giggle.

He can't tell if you're trying to get a green light or just want to make him feel better, either way, he finds it adorable of you.

You check your watch and pout seeing that it's not turning green, "Well, it's worth a try," you say with a laugh.

As he breaks into laughter, he pulls you close and kisses you on the cheek.

"No need to hurry," you playfully say.

You rub his back and place a sweet kiss on his neck, "We still have like ten hours to get a green light."

That only reminds him to hold you tighter, he needs it more now than ever after knowing that he possibly wouldn't be able to do it again.

-

CHRIS: I find it hard to open up and talk about my feelings. Not sure I can do it.

-

With time keep slipping out of your hand, and your heart is getting worried.

You give Chan space and time to be on his own, organizing his thoughts and maybe it'll help him find the courage to talk about what he truly feels.

You remind yourself that it'll not be his fault if both of you end up getting eliminated. So you let go of the guilt and prepare yourself for the worst outcomes.

Before he leaves for his workshop, you pull him aside and warmly hug him.

"I really like you, Chris," you murmur.

You look up and softly smile at him, "I care about you."

You don't want to pressure him but you want to let him know that whatever happens, you will have no hard feelings nor hold a grudge against him.

"I know it's tough for you to open up but if you weren't ready, it's okay. If we got sent home, that doesn't mean things between us are over, you know that?" You say with a smile.

"I know," he lowly answers.

You stand on your tiptoes to plant a long kiss on his cheek, "Don't pressure yourself, okay, baby?"

He nods and hugs you back, locking you in his big arms because this might be the last time you embrace each other like this.

-

YOU: This is more difficult than I thought. At that moment, I think we might be going home.

-

"That dress looks good on you, darling!" Dani praises you as she watches you checking your appearance on the big mirror in the dressing room.

"Yeah?" You ask yourself why bother looking this good on your last night in the retreat.

"Yes," you suddenly shout.

"I want to look good when I get eliminated," you take a jab at yourself and laugh.

"Nah..." Lola groans, "Don't say that!"

Dani props her chin with her hand and looks at you, "You're going to get that green light tonight," she says.

The boys are back from the workshop not long ago but they're all coming back with paints on their bodies. Chan is still showering and it'll take more time to get dressed.

You're waiting for him by the fire pit, sipping your wine while half-heartedly listening to Pierre, Alicia, and Olivia talking.

As you're sipping on your second glass of wine, Chan comes and holds his hand out at you.

"I believe we have to talk," he says to you.

You put your glass down and take his hand, feeling more nervous now than before.

"I'm rooting for you guys!" Alicia mutters with an encouraging smile.

Chan takes you somewhere quiet and sits on the bench that overlooks the sea with the reflection of the moon drawn on the surface of the water.

There are still three hours left to the time limit but it's never too early to start and try to open up.

"You want me to start again?" You ask because he's been so quiet even after you both get the privacy to talk.

He cracks a laugh and puts an arm around you, "Yeah, sure."

You lick your lips and try to articulate your feelings as best as you can. You look him in the eyes and just pour your heart out to him.

"I like you. I like that I can be myself around you. You understand me, you put up with a lot of shit to be with me..." you pause to let out a laugh, "I'm happy that we became closer."

Chan can't stop smiling as he listens to you speaking your heart out. You can see the fondness in his eyes and you also hope that he gets the sincerity in your words.

"And I think... this is a good chance for us to talk about how we feel about each other," you conclude.

-

YOU: I can tell him more things that I like about him but sadly, time is not on our side.

-

It feels great hearing what you thought about him but at the same time, Chan feels burdened to be as open as you.

He's aware of how much you've shared with him while he gave you so little in return. He owes you a lot and it's time for him to settle that debt.

"You look gorgeous," he starts with a compliment.

You reach for the collar of the baby blue linen shirt he's wearing and compliment him back, "So do you."

You rest your hand flat on his chest and dreamily sigh, "You look good in colors other than black and white, you know that?"

He grins at that and nods, "I'll wear more colors."

"Okay, good," you say with gentle pats on his chest.

It's not time for small talk, time is running out. Chan grits his teeth and starts talking, trying to empty his heart through words.

"I'll be honest with you," he begins.

He sees you swallow air and nods, "Okay."

"I haven't completely opened myself up to you."

"Mm-mmh," you hum in response.

He takes your hand and holds it tightly in his hand, "The last relationship I had..." he refrains from sharing too many details on his past.

"From that relationship, I got myself a trust issue out of it, and as much as I like you, it's hard for me to trust you. I got haunted by my experience with trusting someone with my heart..." Chan takes a moment to collect himself and not lose it completely to his emotions.

"I didn't think that I'd get here and find someone like you in here," he says with a low laugh.

You lowly laugh along with him, "Yeah."

"I feel extremely lucky to find you and I realize now that it's not fair that I compare you with my former partner. She might have caused me a trust issue but that doesn't mean you'll do the same to me," he says.

A smile blooms on your face and he feels your hand in shaking in his hold.

"I genuinely am feeling stronger emotions for you which I haven't felt in a long time," he earnestly says with a sincere smile.

His heart feels so much lighter and emptier now, that only means he has more space for these new feelings he has for you.

Chan's heart is full of warm feelings and other than that, it fills with hopes.

-

CHRIS: It's been such a long time since I've opened up like this with anyone but it feels so natural with her.

-

"I like you so much," Chan says while squeezing your hand in his.

It feels good to know that your feelings are reciprocated. You've been tormented inside and you keep it bottled up inside you, now you can let it go.

"I'm so excited for us," he adds with a smile.

Then the chime comes and you glance at your watch to see that it turns green.

You both did it and you didn't mean to cry but your eyes are like bursting dams right now, tears are flowing down your face. He immediately pulls you into a hug.

"I wasn't ready to go home yet," you croak with tears caught in your throat.

"Me too," he says.

He holds you for a moment and whispers into your ear, "Are we going to kiss or what?"

You completely forgot that the rules do not apply and you're allowed to kiss him. You hurriedly wipe the tears on your face with the back of your hands.

Chan doesn't hesitate to kiss you when you believe you look ugly from crying. He leans in and kisses you softly, brushing his lips as if he were telling you how you feel with it.

Your heart is heavy and quivering as it carries so much love inside you. You like him so much and it feels so good, it's so good that it's scary.

When he pulls away from the kiss, Chan holds your face and looks at you, tenderly wiping your eyes with his knuckle.

He's softly laughing as he says, "I can see now that you're just a baby."

He caresses your wet cheeks with his thumb as he fondly looks into your eyes, "just a baby, my baby," he says.

You pout yet smile at his words. There's no use to deny it when he can see everything now.

"My baby girl," he delightfully sighs and presses a long peck on your lips.

Sure you feel relieved you get to stay in the retreat but the best thing about all this is getting to know each other better, emotionally.

"Good job," you tell him with a smile.

"Good job," he says back to you.

-

YOU: Watching Chris open up and comfortably share his feelings makes me feel like I can understand him now. Also, it makes me fancy him more and more [smiles]

-

Chan didn’t expect everyone to wait for them to come back from their talk.

The resentment they have is nothing compared to the friendship they have sewn in time with both you and him. They look at him in anticipation of whether he passed the test or not. They're tucked in their beds and watch him as he walks to his bed with you trailing behind him.

"So...?" Pierre asks.

Chan can't contain his excitement anymore, he grins and says, "We got the green light!"

Everyone cheers for him and you, clapping with pride. Jace hurls a cushion at Chan as he shouts, "Congrats, Aussie boy!"

Alicia comes to his bed to hug you, "I told you. I'm rooting for you!"

Dani hugs her pillow in front of her and asks, "So, did anyone say anything?" She asks in curiosity.

"She told me she likes me," Chan answers without the slightest of embarrassed saying it out loud.

"Did you say it back to her?" Pierre asks.

"Of course!" He shortly replies.

You lay on your stomach on the bed, facing everyone, "It was really hard to begin with but he opened up to me."

"Aww..." Lola coo in response then lightly applauds for you.

"At least we don't have to worry about them rulebreaking now," Luke comments.

"Because there's no money to spend to begin with," Pierre adds.

Everyone is laughing the shared pain away. But with the promise that Lana will return some money through tests and you both passed one tonight, everyone gets hopeful again.

-

CHRIS: I'm so glad we're making progress. I'm so proud of her and me. We both got so far [smiles]

-

It's like you both got a fresh start at a new life.

Even with zero dollars on the prize fund, you feel happy to get to spend more time with him in the retreat. Yesterday was a torture and that only reminds you to use the time wisely.

But it's not like you can't keep yourself away from him you're smitten, you have butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

After last night, you talk about things deeply and openly, you talk more about your future together that it gets you giddy

You're straddling him on the bed and hovering above him, putting a safe space between your faces. You admire his beautiful face, trailing your fingers on his facial features, eyes, nose, and plush lips that lure you to kiss.

"Now that I'll be coming with you to Australia, where will you take me first?" You ask out of curiosity.

Chan has been resting his hands on your thighs and not letting them go anywhere. He looks up at you and answers, "My home."

You're giggling because your dirty mind can only think of one thing, "So we can—"

"I'll introduce you to my family," he slices through your sentence and takes you aback.

This seems that serious to him and you usually choose to step back when things get this serious, however, you're feeling excited about it instead.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I want them to know about our relationship," he casually says.

"Ooo... relationship," you point out the thing he just said and wonder if it accidentally slipped out of his mouth or he meant it. You bet it's the latter from how he gets so flustered and laughs at it.

"Why? Do you have anything else in mind?" He asks with a sly smile.

You look away from his eyes as he catches on your dirty thought, "You know what I'm thinking."

He sits up on the bed so he can hold you and you wrap your arms around his neck, "Well, before we do all that, I'll lock you in my room and we'll have lots of sex," he murmurs, then places a hot kiss on your neck.

You lowly moan at how his soft lips feel on your skin, sending a tingle down your spine.

"Oh, you have no idea what's coming for you," he seductively whispers with his breath tickling your ear.

He then switches to the other side of your neck and places a longer kiss with his tongue lightly licking the skin, leaving a wet kiss mark on it.

The emotional connection only heightens the sexual tension between you and him yet it feels like you've reached a new level in your relationship.

-

YOU: It's HARD! I like him so much therefore it's getting harder to resist him.

-

"Whoa, whoa, what am I walking into," Pierre says as he busted you straddling him on the bed.

Without getting up from his bed, Chan calmly responds with a joke, "There's no harm in losing more money."

"Damn right," Pierre replies with a laugh.

With someone else in the room, the tension is slowly fading out and you get off his lap, sitting next to him instead.

Chan notices that Pierre is smiling at himself and he knows that there must be something.

"What's up?" He asks while putting his arm out so you can rest your head on it.

"Alicia and I are going on a date later," Pierre replies.

"Oh, wow, that's great, man!" Chan offers his hand for a fist bump.

"I'm excited for you, Pierre!" You add with a gleeful smile.

But instead of bumping his fist at him, Pierre collapses onto his bed. It's the first time Chan sees him being this nervous, "Why are you so nervous?"

You're giggling next to him, "You've been sharing a bed with Alicia for so long," you add.

Pierre groans and holds his head with both hands, "Ugh... I don't know."

"Just do you, enjoy it, man," Chan suggests.

Pierre sits on the bed again now, "Yeah, you're right."

He gives Chan his fist bump now then gets up from the bed, "I have to get ready for the date now. See ya!"

"Good luck!" You shout at him before he gets out of the door.

It must be nice to get on a date with you but Chan understands that he has to earn it here. He looks at you and he can see that you're wishing for the same thing.

"We'll get our time," he tells you.

"Yeah," you reply with a smile.

"Come here! Hug me, baby girl!" He pulls you into a tight hug and flips over so you're under him now.

"I want to kiss you," he says as he looks at you.

You put your hand on his lips and glance at it, "We can't. We have to be good."

It's like the roles are reversed now. It's him playing the bad guy now and you're playing the good girl now.

"You're right," he says, he chooses to bury his head in your neck instead.

-

CHRIS: Lana, we’ve been good so please get us on a date too!

-

Lana throws a party tonight.

You're tired of guessing what she's trying to celebrate and if she has something behind it. The worst has happened, you want to enjoy tonight.

"What are you wearing tonight?" Chan asks while you're drying your hair.

"Uhm... nothing," you mindlessly answer.

He puts his arm around your neck and playfully puts you in a chokehold, making you laugh in response. He then nuzzles his nose into your hair and asks again, "I want to match my clothes with you."

"Aww... that's so cute, Chris!" Lola comments from the other end of the vanity table while putting make-up on her eyes.

You turn your head around and jokingly say, "Then... wear nothing."

He wraps his hand around your neck and tilts your head to the side so he can bite on your shoulder, "Just tell me what color!"

You're laughing as you try to get his hand away from you but he keeps ticking your neck with his nose. In the end, you both settle with his favorite color, black.

You're fixing the straps of your dress while looking at the mirror in the bathroom and Chan is leaning against the sink, running his eyes up and down your body.

"You're so gorgeous," he compliments with a grin and those cute dimples.

He bites his fist when you check the back of your dress in the mirror by turning your body to the side.

"Gosh, I'm the luckiest," he sighs.

You get flustered and say, "Stop it!"

Pulling him close, you turn him around and make him look at both of your reflections in the mirror. Not going to lie, you like what you see.

You turn to look at him and then say, "Damn! We look good!"

He looks back at you and smiles, "We look good together."

Without warning, he puts his arms around you and carries you out of the bathroom.

The party had just started when Pierre and Alicia were coming back from their date. Everyone is being nosy with their questions yet you can't help to get nosy as well.

"Tell us everything!" Lola demands.

From the look of it, Pierre and Alicia look happy and it makes you just as happy for them, everyone seems to feel the same way as well.

"It was nice. We went on a boat and enjoyed the sunset," Pierre says.

Alicia nods along to his words, "Then there was a funny question at the end," she says, then leers at Pierre.

Pierre cracks a laugh before answering, "I asked her to be my girlfriend."

Dani, being the one invested in the story, impatiently asks, "What did you say, Alicia?"

Alicia leers at Pierre again and smiles, "I said yes."

It's like watching a sports game and the home team scores, sending everyone into a celebration. Glasses of drinks raised to the air for a toast.

"To Pierre and Alicia!" Jace leads the toast.

"To Pierre and Alicia!" The rest repeat after him and take a sip of their drinks.

-

YOU: Well, unlike us... [chuckles] Pierre and Alicia are the most committed couple in the retreat so I couldn't be happier for them.

-

Instead of being jealous, Chan is happy for Pierre and Alicia.

He's happy to see his closest friend in the retreat happy and it's not like Chan is not happy, he is happy with you. He looks around and they're just as happy even though the prize fund is still at zero.

He holds you close and kisses the top of your head, "I'm so happy."

"Me too," you murmur with your head resting on his chest.

The music abruptly stops and Chan kind of guesses what comes next. There she is, the ultimate cockblocker and party crasher Lana.

Everyone already knows where to go and they drag their feet to head to the cabana. You sit next to Chan, putting one hand around his waist and the other clasped with him, resting it on his leg.

The money is at zero now but that doesn't make everyone less nervous, if anything, there's an anticipation for what Lana is going to announce this time.

Chan's heart skips a beat the second the cone lights up, signifying her arrival. She skips on greeting everyone and calls for both of your names.

You look at each other to exchange a mix of panicked and confused looks.

"On your previous test, you were able to access your true feelings for each other, proving to me that your connection is more than skin deep," Lana says.

That's good news and the applause everyone is giving toward both of you confirmed it.

"However, actions speak louder than words."

Chan hates it when that word comes in the sentence: 'however' because that means, Lana has bad news to tell.

"Tonight, you will both be put to the ultimate test, a night in the private suite."

Remembering that you both failed on the same test and knowing you both have to go through it again. Chan feels the pressure already and he sees you wince in response to that.

"If you refrain from breaking any rules, you will win back $100,000 for the group."

Everyone is cheering at the amount of money you can win back from it but your last failure reminds them not to haste to celebrate.

Chan notices a few pessimistic faces among the group and he understands that. But he knows that it's time he pays everyone back for the damages he did to the prize money.

"We'll try to win back the money for you guys," Chan earnestly says with you nodding along in agreement to his words.

"Please, make your way to the suite!" Lana orders.

He offers his hand to help you get up from the sofa and keeps holding your hand.

Jace nods at Chan to encourage him, "Don't mess up, 'kay? You got it!"

"Wish us luck!" You say to everyone for the last time.

-

CHRIS: This is it. This is the big, ultimate test.

-

The second you both enter the private suite, you throw yourself at him.

Thank goodness that he is quick to catch you and steadily holds you against him to keep you from falling. You loop your both hands around his neck and warmly hug him.

You pull away to look at his face, "We can do it," you murmur with a soft kiss on his cheek.

He returns the kiss but his lips land on your jaw instead, "for that to happen, we shouldn't have a bath."

You pout at him and say, "But I still need to have a bath. I'm dirty."

"You are dirty," he says with a sly smile.

You narrow your eyes at him and put your forehead against his, "Are you dirty?"

It's like a deja vu watching you get undressed in front of him, doing it so confidently like he isn't there and looking at your enticing body with dark, lustful eyes.

"You can join me or..." you nonchalantly say as you step into the tub.

"You can just watch," you continue as you lower yourself into the water, flashing him a naughty smile as you lean back in the tub.

Chan has seen and experienced this scene before but he doesn't like how it ended. This is why it's called a test, see if he can take it and come up with a better result than before.

"Atta, boy!" You exclaim as he starts to take his clothes off.

You intently watch him taking every piece of clothing on his body until there's none left. Your eyebrow raises as your eyes flick down there.

"Hi, there," you playfully talk to his semi-hard member.

Everything about you evokes the rebellious side of him, he just wants to do whatever he wants and pleases. He reminds himself that he needs to control himself and the money that he can win back from doing it.

With one foot down in the tub, Chan can already feel the heat of the moment.

-

CHRIS: When it's just the two of us the sexual tension goes...[Sighs] It's high!

-

Jumping onto the bed, you crawl over to get something from the tray of sex toys on the bedside table.

You know which one you want to get and take it with you as Chan dives onto the bed next to you. You waste no time straddling him, "Put your hands above your head!"

He ignores your order and laughs at you instead. He chooses to disobey you so you take both his hands and put them above his head, you cuff them with handcuffs.

"I'm sorry," you tell him with no hint of regrets whatsoever in your apology.

You look at him and smile in satisfaction that he's laying helpless underneath you.

"You've been very, very bad, Chris," you say in a low, sultry voice and run your fingertips down his bare chest.

He takes a deep breath and looks back at you, "I've been bad, so?" He dares you with a smirk.

As expected, he will disobey you and dare you to do things to him. He's enjoying it and you're more than willing to play along.

You crawl over to the side and use the opportunity to bring your ass close to his face while you take another sex toy from the tray.

You sit down on his crotch, intentionally hard, and enjoy the low groan he lets out. You show him the long, leather whip in your hand.

You put the end of the whip under his chin and used it to tilt his head to look at you, "Do you admit to being a bad, bad boy?"

Instead of answering, he bites his lips and fiercely looks at you. Taking him off guard, you slap his chest with the whip.

"Answer me!" You order.

He slyly smiles and refuses to answer again. You start to slap his chest and abdomen with the whip, making heart-shaped marks on his pale skin.

You decide to get off him and lay on your side next to him, "I'm going to keep doing it until you answer me," you taunt him as you drag the end of the whip down his thigh.

You lean into the side of his face and lowly whisper into his ear, "Answer me, Chris."

He shakes his head and you immediately land a slap on his inner thigh twice that he gasps in response. Feeling mischievous, you slip the whip under his boxer and rub him there.

"Will you answer me now, mmh?" You ask.

He catches you off guard now, rolling on the bed and putting his body on top of you. He buries his head deep in your neck while kissing you there.

"Oh..." you breathlessly moan as he bites on your neck.

Chan is always afraid to put his whole weight on you but you don't want to have it another way, so you put your legs around him and let him collapse on top of you.

He looks at you but his eyes are centered on your lips, "Do you want to kiss me, mmh?"

He alternates it by placing kisses along your jaw and finishes it with a sweet kiss on your cheek, "Actually, there are a lot more things I want to do to you."

-

YOU: Our prize fund is zero so that means there's no money to lose... [bites lips]

-

Chan keeps his handcuffed hands in front of him as you unlock it for him. He puts it back on the bedside table and sees you still straddling him.

He pats the space next to him, "Come here so we can cuddle!"

You shake your head and put your hands on his chest, "No, I like it here. I like sitting on top of you," you say with your eyes enchanting him to gaze back at them.

He puts his hands on your thighs, fingers teasing the hem of the short sleeping dress you're wearing, "Is this your favorite position?"

"Uh-huh," you answer and put your hands to hold your hair in a makeshift ponytail.

"You want to be on top, huh?"

"Yeah, I'm good when I'm on the top," you tell him with your head slightly tilted to the side and your lips curl into a naughty smile.

"Is that true?" He asks, allowing his hands to move up to your waist and hold you there.

"I can show it to you," you dare him.

Seeing you straddling him like this only gives him the glimpses of what you'd like fucking him and he bet it'd be so good. Swear his cock twitched just now from remembering how good it is inside you.

Now you're sitting on his crotch and there's only a layer of clothing that separates him from what he wants, he believes you can feel how his cock is achingly hard for you.

"Maybe next time," he kindly refuses no matter how much his body wants to scream yes.

"Why not now?" You ask with a low giggle.

You make it so hard for him that he has to lift you off him and lay you down next to him. Without giving you time to escape, he puts his arms and legs around you, limiting the things you can do around him.

"Stop teasing me," he presses a wet, long kiss on your cheek.

You helplessly try to get out of his hold while giggling but failing.

"Baby," you softly call.

You hold his chin in your fingers and turn your head at him, "I want to sleep naked tonight."

-

CHRIS: The longer they let us alone together, the more I want to do things to her [raises eyebrow]

-

Even after the morning comes, it doesn't mean that the test has been done yet.

Somehow, you wake up naked and find yourself snuggling to Chan who's just as naked. You don't want to force your brain to work just yet.

It seems like he's awake already as he puts his hand on your back and runs his fingers down your back, light and fluttering, lulling you back to sleep.

Realizing that the test is not over yet, he gets away from you only so he can lay next to you and easily places kisses on your bare back.

You delightfully hum every time his full lips make contact with your skin, warm and soft, making you tingle inside.

"You're so beautiful," he hums.

He then starts another trail of kisses from the nape of your neck and down your spine. He stops before he gets tempted to go lower than your waist.

"So soft, so beautiful..." he sighs with so much frustration as if he saw something he couldn't perceive.

Chan decides to prop both hands on each side of you and kisses your neck as he's hovering above you, waking you up with sweet, gentle kisses.

"Wake up, baby," he softly calls you.

Wanting more than just kisses, you pull him close so you can feel him whole, his body on your body, skin-to-skin. It feels rather more intimate than sex.

He puts all of your hair away to the side so he can pepper your shoulder with kisses, "Morning," he says in between kisses.

You smile with eyes closed and croak, "Morning."

There's not much time left in the private suite and you both have to face everyone soon.

"How are we going to tell them?" You meekly ask him, feeling the anxiety already.

He gently caresses your cheek with his knuckle, "I'll do the talking," he simply answers.

You overlap his body with yours and put your arm across his chest, "Can't we just stay here?" You innocently ask with a low laugh.

"We can stay a little longer," he consoles you with a kiss on your forehead.

As much as you want to stay, it's time to face the truth once more.

-

YOU: Last night was... special. The best night I ever had in the retreat. [smiles]

-

While holding Chan's hand, you wake slow walk on the way back to the villa, and meet everyone in the bedroom.

Everyone is looking a bit antsy even though they're still in their beds. They stop talking once they notice you're back from the private suite but they seem to be scared to ask the important question.

Chan gestures to you to sit on the sofa instead of on the bed next to the table where Lana is sitting still so prettily.

Before Chan can open his mouth and speak, Lana gets ahead of him, chiming on the table next to you.

"Last night, you faced your ultimate test," Lana skips the morning greeting and goes straight into business.

"As a couple, if you could refrain from breaking any retreat rules, the prize fund will be increased from $0 to $100,000."

You grimace at that because anything could happen at this point.

"However..."

Lola gasps at the mention of that word and hides behind the duvet. It's your turn to gasp as Lana calls your name.

"Even though you were successful in sexually arousing Chris, he was able to hold firm and respect the rules of my retreat."

Applause and cheers erupt from every corner of the room. You hate that Lana exposed you for what you did in the private suite but it won't stop you from celebrating as well.

"Which means that the prize fund now stands at $100,000," Lana updates.

More cheers and whistles are coming from everyone at the announcement that you both gained half of the total prize money back.

"I am so proud of you, babe!" Dani says to you.

You blow her a kiss as a token of gratitude and look at Chan, he's looking as proud as you are.

"This is what I call growth," Pierre comments with a smile.

"Yeah, that's true," Lola agrees.

Everyone gets quiet as Lana continues talking, "As a reward for showing restraint and putting the interest of the group above your own, you will be going on a date."

You turn to look at Chan and smile, feeling so proud of both of you. You look around the room and ask, "Can I hug him, now?"

They are all laughing before answering, "Yes."

You walk up to Chan and he welcomes you into his arms, holding you so tight while lifting you off your feet.

It feels good to do good and get rewarded for it, you lean close to murmur, "I'm so proud of you."

"I'm so proud of us," he says back with a kiss on your cheek.

-

YOU: The last few days have been so hard for us so I think we deserve this date and I'm just so excited [grins]

-

To be honest, Chan is nervous.

Yes, he's happy and excited for the date. What he's worrying so much about is the talk he'll be having with you and he wants to make sure that he gets his emotions across.

It's important that you know his feelings for you.

His face lights up as you walk toward him, he helps you board the boat to get to the other small island where the date will be.

"Gorgeous," he sweet compliments as he brushes your hair and tucks it behind your ear.

"Thank you, baby," you mutter and take his hand to hold it.

The two of you take a short walk to where the date has been prepared, a cute little picnic with a bottle of champagne chilled in a bucket of ice which Chan can easily pop open.

"Mmh... My man is so strong," you playfully praise him.

You take one of the champagne flutes so he can fill it for you, "What are toasting to?"

He thinks for a moment, "Mmh... for passing the ultimate test?"

You chuckle and nod in agreement, "For passing the ultimate test!"

You both clink your glasses together and take a sip of the bubbly wine.

-

CHRIS: We both know that we have a strong physical chemistry between us but I need to know if we have a strong connection as well. I want this to last.

-

The sun is slowly sinking into the horizon, painting the sky with stunning bursts of flaming gold colors.

Even Chan is here, in one of the most beautiful places he's ever been, he thinks that what makes it so special is because he's with you.

"Have you realized that it's been me and you since day one?" Chan asks.

You fix your hair and prop one hand next to you, "Yeah," you answer while nodding.

"We've been going through such... a long journey," he says, emphasizing how rough it has been for the two of you.

You nod again and softly laugh, "You know, with other people, I would push them away and keep moving forward. I never once in my life thought I would find 'that someone'."

This is why he's comfortable around you. He shares a piece and you share one piece of you too, it's never going one way with you. Everything is fair and he thinks this is what good communication is.

"As you know, the last relationship I had... it was ugly but in here, in this retreat, I learned how to confront my emotions and open up to someone," Chan shares his piece of him with you.

You're looking at him with eyes that match the soft smile on your face while tucking away the hair getting blown by the wind.

"Also, this retreat helps me put things into perspective," he continues, "I'm able to show sides of myself that I didn't know I had."

You take a sip of your drink and nod again, "Just like I said when people get into my space, I'd normally push them away."

You put your drink away before continuing, "But the fact that I met someone that I like... that makes me feel emotional and vulnerable."

Chan would be lying to say your words aren't making him feel the slightest bit emotional as well. He can feel the sincerity in your words, they are pure and heartfelt.

"I wonder if we're compatible moving forward in the outside world," you finish.

He takes your hand and holds it in the space between you and him. He then clears his throat before speaking.

"Now it's time where I can tell you and it would be wrong for me not to say this..."

His heart hurts as every bit of emotion is getting squeezed out of him into words but he wants to tell you everything, baring it out for you so you know his true feelings for you.

He looks into your eyes, it gives him the confidence to go on and say, "I genuinely do love you."

You close your eyes and break into laughter, it's not the reaction he hoped for but he waits for you to say something.

"I can't believe I came here and fell in love..." you say with a sheepish laugh.

You stare into his eyes and squeeze his hand as you say, "I love you too."

It feels like a ton of weight has been lifted off his chest. He thought he would be bound and confined the moment those words were out of his mouth, instead of that, Chan feels like he's been set free.

-

CHRIS: When I arrived here, I didn't mean to meet a girl and tell her I love her. I'm a changed man and it's because of her [smiles]

-

Seeing him happy makes you happy.

The happiness only doubled knowing that the feelings go both ways. Never in a million years have you ever thought you would be falling in love with a guy like him.

Chan is a gentleman, he's kind and sweet, he's very thoughtful and caring, and he has everything that you're not looking for in a man.

But he changed you and made you realize that you deserve a better man. Meeting him and being with him is a blessing like a star falls right onto your lap.

"I always told myself I'm better single and do my things, but with you, I feel safe, comfortable, and powerful at the same time," you let your thoughts out loud to him.

You swallow air to not let the tears get in the way of you speaking your heart out to him, "The best thing is, with you, I feel more reassured and that's something that rarely happens."

The way he's looking at you now is the most beautiful view you've ever seen and you want to imprint it in the back of your head. You also want to bottle this precious moment so you can treasure it for life.

Chan has been quiet for a moment then he lets out a sigh, "I feel like I've won the lottery," he says.

This has been a long journey but you're grateful that you come out of it together, stronger and on top of that, in love more than ever.

Both of your watches chime at the same time and you glance to confirm that it's green.

"Oh?!" You look at him with a surprised face.

Chan smiles and crawls over to you, "Thank you, Lana!" He shouts.

The kiss feels special and it's ultimately because this kiss marks the beginning of your relationship, the first one of many, and hopefully, the start of a long-lasting relationship.

-

YOU: I'm the... [squeals] I'm the happiest girl in the world [gleefully smiles]

-

Everyone else is already sleeping when the two of you decide to sneak out to have one final swimming lesson.

Again, it's not a lesson and you both promise to not spend any money. You're doing it as tonight is the last night of the retreat.

Nothing is going to change even when the show is over but it doesn't stop you from feeling sentimental about it.

"It's going to be weird not waking up next to you," you sadly say as Chan hugs you from the back.

He rests his head on your shoulder with his hands wrapped around your waist, "You'll be coming home with me, remember?"

You nod but what you actually meant is how the outside world would be different than here. We have the stupid rules here but everything is much simpler and happier here, you're afraid of losing it all once you step out of this retreat.

"I'm just glad we won back the money," you say, shifting it to a much brighter topic.

"Or else we wouldn't have money for our flights home," Chan jokes.

Your shared waves of laughter are making ripples on the surface of the pool water.

"Who is going to win the money though?" You ask in genuine curiosity.

Chan shrugs in response to your question, "Definitely not us," he says.

Considering that the two of you are the big spenders in the retreat, you wouldn't even dare to think that there's the possibility of winning the prize money too.

To be able to come home with a man you are deeply in love with is already a big win for you.

-

YOU: I don't care about the money. I got what I want, I got my man [smiles]

-

"Good morning, friends!" Lola cheerily greets everyone the second the lights turned on.

Staying up until late last night causing him to feel sleepy, he keeps sleeping with his head buried in the pillow. He can feel you slipping your hands around him to spoon him from behind.

"Morning, Channie baby," you softly call him by his Korean name.

He told you about it last night, the name only his family and his close friends are allowed to call him with that name.

You are, of course, more than allowed to call him that. It feels strange to hear it at first but he likes the sound of it, especially the affectionate tone you're using.

He takes your hand and kisses it, putting it close to his chest as he tries to get a few more minutes of sleep. The sound of the melodic chime is enough to make him refrain from going back to sleep.

"Good morning, everyone!" Lana greets, sounding exceptionally kind even though she speaks in the same robotic voice.

"Morning, Lana darling!" Claire replies with a cracked voice.

"Welcome to the last day of the retreat," she announces.

Everyone sadly groans which is quite shocking compared to the first day of the retreat, now everyone is not wanting to leave.

His head snaps at you and it reminds him to soak up every minute left in this retreat with you.

"I will be announcing who the finalists are shortly," Lana further announces.

Everyone's ears perk up at the announcement, finalists in 'plural', which means there is more than one candidate to win the prize money.

Everyone else is secretly guessing who's going to win it but with his bad record, Chan chooses to sit back and wishes everyone the best of luck.

"It's the last day!" Luke remarks, still in disbelief of it.

"Let's make it the best one!" Dani adds as she yawns into her hand.

"And let's spend the whole money today," Chan jokes even though he's slurring his words.

"Funny, Aussie boy!" Jace says as he tosses a cushion at him.

-

CHRIS: I fully trust that Lana will choose the right person to win the money and I'm okay that I'm not it, Lana, I have no hard feelings [laughs]

-

"It's the last day so I'm going to wear the tiniest bikini."

Chan hears what you're saying since he's in the dressing room to take something out of his closet.

"Oh my, Gosh!" He responds to what you're saying.

You're chuckling and look at him as he stands across the room, "I'm putting another test on you."

He walks over to your chair and puts his hand around your neck, that way he can angle your head as he pleases. He attacks one side of your face with small kisses.

"Stop being so cute," Claire says as she hollowed her cheeks to apply some colors to them.

"Yeah, stop it before you spend some money," Alicia playfully adds.

Chan lets you go because he needs to go to the bathroom to style his hair, he finds Jace in there, putting his long blond hair into a small bun.

"Who do you think is going to win?" He asks.

It's the third time someone asked him the same question and he'll remain diplomatic about his answer, "Whoever wins I'll be happy for them."

Jace respects his answer and does not further press him to give a name but Chan gets curious about his answer.

"Who do you think?" He turns the table to him.

Jace sits on the edge of the tub and watches as Chan combs his hair in front of the mirror on the sink.

"I think it's you, Aussie boy."

Chan snorts in response, he figures that Jace wants to entertain him with his answer.

"Hey, the one who made a lot of mistakes is the one that is most improved," he defends his answer, proving that he's actually serious about his answer.

"Yeah, nah, I don't think it's me, mate," he refuses his answer to entertain the idea that he has a chance to win it.

"That's just my opinion," Jace says with a nonchalant shrug.

-

CHRIS: If it were up to me, I think everybody would win here but it's not, it's up to Lana. [Shrugs]

-

It's the time in the cabana again.

You're sad that it's going to be over soon but God! You're so glad that soon you'll not be hearing that melodic chime again. It's like hearing a soundtrack to a horror movie.

"Hello, everyone!"

"Hey, Lana," you reply, suppressing your anxious groan coming out of your mouth.

"I have been collecting data since you arrived and have now conducted my final analysis," Lana informs.

You can't tell what everyone is feeling right now, it's a mix of anticipation, anxiety or relief, sadness or happiness, everything is there.

"As you are aware, there was a prize fund of $200,000 allocated to aid your development."

You wince at the mention of the word 'was' and it brings back your not-so-finest moments in your head.

"The prize fund stands at $100,000."

"Whoo!" Lola whoops, "That's a lot of money, baby!"

"And it was very hard to gain," Chan playfully comments, sending everyone into laughter.

"Like literally," he adds.

You cover his mouth with your hand to stop him from embarrassing himself more and let Lana continue.

"There are three places in the final."

Now everyone is assessing each other for their possibilities to win the money. You're definitely not going to make the cut with how much you spent in the retreat.

-

YOU: It's clearly not going to be us. We're the antagonists in this show [chuckles]

-

"Following my rules alone isn't enough to win. The finalists are those who have shown personal growth during their time at the retreat."

Oh, wait? Personal growth?

If we're talking about personal growth, everyone can see how much Chan has grown since the first day of the retreat. People would think that it's a biased opinion but you believe that Lana sees it, or you hope so.

"The first finalist is..."

You're secretly praying that Chan's name gets called, it's not much about winning, he deserves to be in the final with the journey he's been through in this retreat.

"Pierre and Alicia."

It's kind of expected and everyone is clapping for them because they deserve it. You watch as they're hugging each other and looking so cute it makes you cooing adorably.

"The second finalist is..."

You continue to pray in your heart for one name to be called by Lana, you even have your hands clasped together and close your eyes as you deeply wish for it.

"Jace and Lola."

Again, everyone is clapping because they're genuinely made for each other, they complement each other in a way like no other.

"The third and final finalist is..."

For the last time, you wish and pray as hard as you can in your heart. You never wished for something this badly so for the first time in your life, please let—

"Chris."

Your mouth hangs open in response while he pulls you into a hug. You're at a loss for words for a moment until he pulls away from the hug.

You get teary as you see him standing up to take his place on the final, feeling so proud of him and the man he has become.

"Pierre and Alicia, Jace and Lola, Chris, one of you will walk away with $100,000."

Chan offers his hand at you so you can hold it while he's standing up in front of you. You can't fight the tears that are already pooling in your eyes.

"And the decision will be made by the remaining guests."

"Oh, my God!" You quietly gasp while dabbing the tears in the corner of your eyes.

"Will the shortlisted guests please leave the cabana while the voting takes place," Lana orders.

Chan bends down to hug you since he has to leave. He presses a long kiss on your cheek and caresses your cheek, "I'll see you soon, yeah?"

You nod with a smile, "Okay."

-

YOU: Oh, I don't care if people think that I am being biased but I saw his growth, every day in this retreat. My vote is going to Chris.

-

The dressing room is crowded because everyone is getting ready for the last party in the retreat. Everyone is wearing white per the dress code announced by the staff.

Chan pulls you to the bedroom to have some alone time before he gets to be separated from you because the finalists have their special entrance to the party.

He sits down at the end of the shared bed and then pulls you down onto his lap.

"I can't believe that I'm one of the finalists, it's... mad!" He says in disbelief.

You put your hands around his neck and look at him, "You deserve it, baby."

He takes a deep breath as though he was swimming in deep water. He then runs his hand in your hair and affectionately brushes your hair.

"Whatever happens, I'm happy, I'm winning," he says.

You nod.

"I'm going home with a girlfriend," he shyly says with his dimpled smile.

That gets you flustered as well and it seems like it has just sunk in you that you're dating him now, "oh, shoot, I have a boyfriend now," you say with a shocked laugh.

He hugs you as you both laugh at the sudden realization, he buries his head in your neck to drink in the scent that gives him a sense of comfort.

He allows his hands to trace down your sides and adores every curve of it, "Mmh... You look stunning tonight," he praises.

"Spin for me," he demands.

You get off his lap and elegantly raise your hands above your waist before spinning around on your feet to show him the whole look.

"Do you like it?" You ask.

"Oh, love it!" He answers with a dramatic, overwhelmed eye roll.

You sit on his lap again and let him rest his head on your chest, on the soft mounds of your clothed breasts. There are only hours left until the retreat ends but his hands are already getting impatient as they're teasing the zipper of your dress.

"Can't wait to take this off of you tonight," he murmurs with his lips grazing your cleavage as he speaks.

You're lowly humming in response and cradle his head close to your chest, "Anything you want," you tell him.

Those words are sending his mind wandering off and away from his head. He's not thinking about the money at all, all he can think about are the things he wants to do to you.

"You can do anything you want later," you say again with your fingers softly scratching the back of his hair.

"Now that's a real prize," he says with an enthusiastic smile.

-

CHRIS: Winning or not, I'm leaving in love [smiles]

-

You sit next to Claire and Nick as the rest of the guests are waiting for the finalists to come and join the party.

"It's sad, isn't it?" Dani says with a sad smile from the other bench.

"It's coming to an end, yeah," Claire shares with a pout.

You've been meaning to not feel sentimental about it but now everyone is feeling the same way, you can't help but have your say about it.

"It's bittersweet, you guys," you say.

Everyone is nodding in agreement and Luke initiates a toast to start the last party in the retreat. The talk continues with everyone sharing their memories here, happy, sad, or funny ones, also everything in between.

Mac has to abruptly stop talking as the finalists are about to enter.

A round of applause welcomes all five of them. First is Pierre and Alicia, and following behind them are Jace and Lola. Last but not least is your number one man, Chan.

You scoot on the bench to make space for Chan to sit on and welcome him with a hug.

"Missed you," you murmur even though you have only been separated from each other for less than an hour.

He caressingly kisses your cheek and puts his arm around you, you reckon he needs the comfort from how nervous he looks right now.

"Got all my fingers crossed for you," you whisper to him.

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh!" You answer without a beat and grin at him.

You hold his face by the jaw and place a kiss right on his dimple, hurriedly wiping the lipstick mark with your thumb after.

The melodic chime comes from the cone and it's going to be the last you hear of her, Lana.

"During your time at the retreat, I have observed you all commit to the process, acknowledge your failures, and show significant change."

You nod and smile, "Thank you, Lana!" You sincerely say from the bottom of your heart.

"The time has now come to announce the winner of the $100,000 prize."

You put your heads together and hold each other's hands on his lap, letting go of everything all at once, and no matter what happens, you are happy with each other.

"Pierre and Alicia, Jace and Lola, Chris, please stand!" Lana orders.

-

YOU: At the end of the day, I'm leaving as a changed person and I'm in a relationship with a man I love. And that's something I have never imagined in a million years. [Brightly smiles]

-

Chan isn't that optimistic he would win the money.

Yet he feels so nervous Chan has to take a deep breath before getting up from his seat without letting go of your hand.

"You got it, baby," you mutter to him with a squeeze on his hand.

He peers over his shoulder to look at you and flashes you a grateful smile.

"Your fellow retreat guests have voted," Lana continues with the announcement.

Chan looks at the other finalists, at Jace and Lola, and the other way, at Pierre and Alicia. He never thought he would be considered as one of the finalists, he's still in denial about it.

"The person in third place is..."

His heart is beating faster and faster he starts to wonder if he's going to have a cardiac arrest.

"Jace and Lola," Lana announces.

Chan's head snaps in the direction of Jace and Lola who are embracing and congratulating each other despite they do not win the money.

-

CHRIS: I'm on the top two... [deeply inhales] not expecting this at all. If I win, it wouldn't be my own because she played a big part in my growth in the retreat.

-

Lana doesn't give him time to relax as she continues to the next announcement.

"Pierre and Alicia, Chris, one of you has been chosen to check out of the retreat with the prize fund."

He squeezes your hand in his hand hard enough that his knuckles turn white. He needs it, he needs something to hold on to.

"The winner who will be leaving with $100,000 is..."

Who doesn't want that much money? But honestly, it's not going to be a loss if he didn't win it. It's been one hell of a journey and an emotional one, he made friendships and experiences of a lifetime here.

"Pierre and Alicia."

He did end up not winning the money but he doesn't feel like losing at all. He's reeling from it and only aware of himself when you hug him so tightly.

-

CHRIS: Couldn't be happier for Pierre and Alicia.

YOU: [Nods] Yep, they definitely deserved it.

-

"Congrats, you two!" Chan takes his turn to congratulate the winning couple.

"So happy for you, man!" He says as he gives Pierre a big hug.

The celebration continues with them popping open bottles of champagne and spraying everyone with it. You hide behind Chan as Pierre is aiming the bottle at both you and him.

"You're dripping!" You exclaim, seeing his face sticky and wet with white wine.

You help by wiping it with the back of your hand while he brushes his hair to the back.

Chan looks around and sees that everyone is having fun and happy, there's nothing he wishes more than his. It's a memory he'll treasure for life.

Everyone settles back to their seats as Lana has one announcement left.

"Your time at the retreat is over and therefore, the rules no longer apply."

Chan is turning to you but you're looking the other way, you walk over to the other side and he sees that you're coming over to someone.

Chan and Luke can only laugh as you share another kiss after the retreat ends with Dani.

Luke has to pull Dani away from you to not let the kiss continue while Chan pulls you from behind.

"Okay, that was hot," He says with an impressed smile.

He puts his arms around you and pulls you close, "But it's my turn now."

You giggle at him and waste no time to kiss him, opening your mouth to let him kiss you deeper, relishing the craving he has for the taste of your lips.

-

CHRIS: We never thought we'd get this far.

YOU: [Nods] Yeah.

CHRIS: [Looks at you] I'm proud of you.

YOU: [Shyly smiles] And I'm so proud of you!

-

The sounds of the fireworks going off startle you and you both turn around to see them lighting up the sky in bright, colorful sparks.

He's hugging you from behind as everyone else is also watching the wondrous view. His heart feels full yet he wants more of it, he knows that the only way he can get more of it is by sharing it.

Chan brings his mouth close to your ear and says, "I love you."

You turn around to look at him with a confused look on your face, "I'm sorry what?"

It's the explosive sounds of the fireworks and the music playing that make it hard for you to hear what he said the first time.

He raises his voice a little louder and says again, "I love you."

"What?" You raise your voice even louder than him against the constant explosion in the distance.

Chan laughs because it reminds him of the first day you met. He can tell you're not pretending to not hear it this time, he tries again by pressing his mouth close to your ear with his hands cupping around his mouth, "I love you!"

You coo at him in response and turn around to face him, "I love you too."

He captures your lips in one long, lingering kiss and lets out everything in him, freely and intensely. He's not afraid to let go now because he knows that's the only way to love you fully.

And no one can stop him, not now, not ever.

-

CHRIS: No more Lana. No more rules.

YOU: [Looks at Chris] And that means...?

CHRIS: Get in here!

YOU: [Kisses Chan] [Moans]

CHRIS: [Let go of the kiss] [Looks at the camera] Can I go now? Cause she needs to be f—

-

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[crrepiest]

Yandere! Teacher x Reader

♡Yan!Teacher x GN Reader♡

Pt 2

Tw: age-gap, slight nsfw, pervy behavior, stalking, obsessive behavior

Make sure to check out Pt 1!

I gaze out onto the school courtyard from my classroom window as students scramble to get to their next class period. Red and orange leaves fall silently to the ground and collect in piles amongst the feet of the students. Some of them in a hurry while others take their time. You, being one of the punctual students.

At this point, it was routine.

Watching you as you hurry past the rest of the student body to get to your 4th period class early. My class. I like to think its because you're so eager to see me. As eager as I am to see you.

I sit in my chair, arms crossed, keeping a watchful eye until you were completely out of sight. I relax my shoulders and let them fall as a sigh escapes my lips.

I never feel at ease anymore. Time slows, minutes turn into hours until I was in your presence. Until I could smell your perfume/ cologne when you swept past my desk to take a seat. Just so I could hear your sweet voice say my name when you greeted me "Good morning Mr. Roth".

You were always so sweet to me. Showing up to my class early, asking if I need help around the classroom, always turning in your homework on time if not way before the due date. Always such a good little student, almost as if you're trying to impress me. Sometimes I cant tell if this is real or not.

Days turn to weeks, weeks turn to months and my thoughts turn ever increasingly centric of you

I find myself over thinking. Anxiety filled thoughts that leave me tossing and turning in my big empty bed, only to wish you were there with me, to sooth me.

What if you didn't reciprocate my feelings? How would you react when I inevitably opened my heart to you. Would you be repulsed by me? These thoughts fill my head, stretching the nights thin.

On especially bad nights, I've gotten into a habit of taking sleep medication. No method of self soothing could ease my mind.

Which led me here, too much sleep in my system from popping a pill at 6:30 pm since I couldn't rid the burning image of your face from my mind.

As I was lost in thought staring at my desk, light foot steps sounded from the hallway, headed toward my room. My eyes snap to the door in hopes that is was you.

You enter the class room with a smile already plastered on your face. My heart starts to beat faster at the sight. I send you a quick smile back as you begin to greet me.

"Hi Mr. Roth! How has your morning been so far?"

God. If only you knew.

If it were even possible, my cheeks start to burn harder as I listen to my name slide out of your mouth so elegantly.

"My morning just got better Mx (y/ I/n)." I smirk at you.

"Oh stop it" you giggled as you walked to your desk to take a seat.

And just like that, all the worry washed away from my body.

"How was your night last night (y/n)" I try to keep the conversation flowing for as long as I could.

I tried to pay attention to you. I really did. Every word that poured out of your mouth was like a symphony. It's just as my gaze wondered from your eyes, down to you moving lips, i couldn't help myself.

I couldn't help but imagine how those delicate lips would feel around me. How those innocent eyes would look as they were all glossed over with tears as a pout sat perfectly on your face. All for me to ruin.

I nodded my head and let out affirmative words to not raise anysuspicions from you that I wasn't paying full attention.

I was pulled from my thoughts as I heard chatter amongst students in my classroom. I sucked in a sharp breath and hesitantly removed my eyes from you. Sometimes when I'm with you, it feels as if the the whole world fades away. As if I'm not stuck in my career as an English teacher, having to teach a class full of students who I couldn't care less about.

I wish it were just the two of us. A fantasy that I catch myself day dreaming about frequently. To have you secluded from society and the only source of outside information being me. To have you completely dependent on me. I wouldn't have to deal with sharing you with other people, or get distracted from you.

The dismissal bell rang and everyone rose from their seats and made their way to the door. You gathered your notebooks and pencil and shoved them into your backpack.

You and I made eye contact. It was only brief but it felt like a life time to me. Naturally, I was already staring at you to begin with. You seemed to notice this.

"See you tomorrow Mx. (Y/I/n)" | said softly.

You gave a beaming smile that I swear made my heart skip a few beats.

I never let my eyes leave your form until you were out of view. I propped my head up with my hand on my desk and breathed out raspy a sigh. I stared at my computer as my mind raced with the thought of you.

Then a horrible thought came to mind.

I hurriedly opened my browser and clicked open a new tab. A smirk started to tug at my lips as I navigated through the teacher access center. Why haven't I thought of doing this before?

I typed in your name and found your school profile. Everything I could have ever needed lay right at my fingertips. I smile deviously at the glowing screen of the laptop. I pull out a sticky note and a pen and jotted down the information I needed.

The day dragged on for what seemed like ages. Then, the final bell rang. I gathered my things and headed out to my car, eager to get home to set my plan in motion.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The car engine quiets down as the car comes to a complete stop.

I turned the key in the ignition to shut off the humming engine. The lights in the vehicle start to fade out as I'm left in the dark, alone with my thoughts.

Anxiety and excitement ran rampant through my veins. My fists curled tightly around the steering wheel as I took a deep breath. I can't believe I was actually going through with this.

I quietly closed the car door as I stepped out. The cold air snipped at my face, making me wince. I shoved my hands into my jacket pocket as I made my way to looming house in front of me.

AHHH thank you all so much for all the love on my first post it means a lot!!

Also, face claim for Mr. Roth: Jeffery Dean Morgan my beloved

Please feel free to give me constructive criticism on my writing so I can further improve in the future :3

[yurinaa-world]

Hi‼️‼️

I saw ur requests were open, so can I request Dr ratio with a reader that's like hitori gotoh/bocchi from bocchi the rock?

It's totally up to u if u want it platonic

Bocchi is an extremely introverted girl with high social anxiety, making it very difficult for her to talk to strangers. She often tries to avoid interactions. (The anime is like k-on?)

If u haven't watched it, then replace bocchi with a character u know that has a similar personality traits as bocchi

Ok have a good day/night‼️‼️

"𝒟𝑜 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝑔𝑜?"

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Veritas Ratio x Gender-Neutral reader

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: with a reader that's like hitori gotoh

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, & Spelling Mistakes

💫𝒱𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓈 𝑅𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜 "𝑀𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝐼𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒾𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈𝒾𝒶 𝒢𝓊𝒾𝓁𝒹"

Veritas is all for pushing past boundaries to fund yourself (it's deep under the silver-tongued tone he speaks in) but he knows you well, you've always been the way you are since the first time you met each other. 

Even if you say you don’t remember it he sure does (might’ve been the best day of his life), you somehow grew into something more, and now you're still together (the real ride or die). He can see how you try your hardest. All that comes out is whispers accompanied by slight stutters whenever you talk with anyone else (it’s not too bad when you talk to him).

Whenever he sees you at the same event as him (standing in the corner, looking down, hoping to leave the second you get there) forget anyone he's talking to, he wants to check on you. (he adores more than anyone else.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

What were you thinking about coming here, it’s so obvious you don’t belong here. Standing in the corner while everyone else congregates in the middle of the room in big groups (everyone but you), talking about the big milestones in their lives or showing off credentials.

 “I’ve just gotten my degree in…” “I got the highest score in the entire…” hearing the small snippets of conversations that just made you want to leave more. Still, it would be embarrassing when people immediately notice you going as the event starts. The best thing to do is to keep your arms crossed and look down, hoping that no one will take to you and you’ll just get out of this perfectly fine. 

Maybe in your last ditch effort, looking around to see if anyone’s alone as well, just to see anyone who was alone, immediately get with their friends or people they were waiting for. This is just getting worse for you. 

“If you think everyone else is in the same predicament as your pitiful self, then you’re mistaken.” You know that voice from anywhere, turning to your side to see Veritas standing next to you with his arms crossed and a blank expression. You feel a bit embarrassed for being called out.

 “I wasn’t doing that….just looking…”

“Looking at people talking while you stand here like a sore thumb? I doubt that’s the case.”

Now this is just downright humiliating and makes you think he just loves calling you out, which makes you curse him out in your head the entire time. “I have you, so it’s not like I'm a complete loner.” You just murmur, it’s a shameless last ditch to pull since already his next words might be like ‘I was just talking to you in pity’—maybe that imagination was a bit mischaracterized.

He just sighs at the words you just spoke, this event is not suited for you, so you both will just leave together, taking the initiative to interweave your hand in his. “The back exit is this way if you don’t want to draw attention.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[jhoneybees]

hey! I love ur writing and was wondering if you could do a little one shot with BDE and a reader who’s kind of scared of motorcycles (maybe a family member got into an accident on one or something) and she’s always refused to ride one but Elvis ends up convincing her and she has the time of her life? I think it’d be super cute and funny haha

This idea is so cute! I enjoyed writing this one. Definitely, I can do a little oneshot for you🤭🩷

Freedom

Characters: Mid 70s!Elvis X reader

Warnings/triggers: Mentions of a family member dying, reader calling E daddy, use of Y/n, fear of motorbikes, anxiety, facing a fear

Tags: @atleastpleasetelephone @elvisalltheway101 @i-r-i-n-a-a

_____________________________________________

Ever since your uncle that you loved so much died from that motorbike accident when you were little, you’ve been terrified of motorcycles. The fact that a machine like that can kill such innocent people makes your stomach turn.

And it sure brings you anxiety when Elvis would ride around on his motor toys. He tried many times to get you to come and look at the new motorbikes he would buy every now and then but you wouldn’t budge.

You just can’t bear the memories that might flood back into your mind if you even looked at a motorbike…but knowing you, you absolutely adore Elvis and his excitement when it comes to his new possessions so today you would face the fear.

“You’ll love it, baby, c’mere.” Elvis beams happily, gently pushing on the small of your back as you stand in the front door.

Guiding you onto the concrete driveway with his hand moving to hold yours, squeezing gently.

“I-It’s not too big, right?” You stammer, nervously. Swallowing as he holds both of your shoulders.

“No, it ain’t too big, honey, it’s real pretty.” He smiles.

You nod and just when you turn around to face the thing you’ve been scared of for years, Elvis gives you a peck on the temple. “Promise.”

Your heart skips a beat, the thing is pretty.

Black leather seat and shiny steel everywhere creating something that’s…quite an interesting piece of art.

“What d’ya think?” Elvis asks with a wide smile, walking over to wheel the vehicle more out of the garage.

You step back feeling a bit frightened as he kicks the footstand down.

“It’s…interesting.” You reply, almost in a whisper. Curiously observing the motorbike in front of you.

Elvis chuckles, he sits down on the seat never taking his eyes off of you.

“Would ya want to go for a ride?”

Snapping your wide eyes up to his face, you shake your head immediately. Taking a few more steps back. “No.”

“Oh honey, It’ll be fu-”

“No, I’m not going on that thing.”

He breathes out a laugh, moving to grab your hand but you snatch it away. “C’mon, darling. You know I wouldn’t let anythin’ happen to ya.”

You frown and shake your head again, glaring down at the machine under him. “No, Elvis, I’m not going for a ride.”

“Baby-”

“No.”

“Listen-”

“No.”

“Bab-”

“No-”

“Y/n, listen!”

You cross your arms. Drifting your gaze back up to Elvis’ comforting eyes, seeing him grinning. You sigh through your nose. “I know yer scared of motorcycles…but I promise you’d have a good time if we went fer a ride, baby”

You’re not so sure about that. “I don’t want ta end up like uncle tim-”

“Uncle Timmy, I know sweetheart, I know…you know I always take care of my flower, right?”

“...Yes” You mumble, shyly, as Elvis’ hand goes to pull you closer by the elbow. Leaning in to kiss your arm. “And today wouldn’t be an exception, hm?...What do ya say? Go fer a fun ride with me?” He asks with a sparkle in his eye.

Oh, you’re really not sure about this… a motorbike killed your beloved family member, it went out of control and what if that happens to you!

“El…”

“Think about it, darling…” Elvis tells you, caressing the side of your thigh with his thumb and watching your face.

…But Elvis promises nothing bad’s gonna happen to you.

And you know he means it.

“O-Okay.”

Elvis smirks. “Gonna come with me?”

“...Mhm”

“Oh, brave girl.” He coos, ushering you over to give him a kiss and his arms go around your waist. Peering up at you with a proud smile. “Daddy will go slow, m’kay? We won’t go fast.” He reassures.

You nod hesitantly, closing your eyes briefly as he stands up and pecks your forehead. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He chuckles. “Good girl, c’mon, I’ll show you how to get on.”

Elvis waited, helped and comforted you as he lifted you onto the motorbike and told you to hold his waist tightly as you both rode out the gates of your Beverly hills home. Steadily going up and down the hill heading towards the main intersection, stopping at a red light. “All good, baby?” He asks, rubbing your hand that’s rested on his stomach.

You hum quietly, shuffling your body to press against his back more. “All good.”

Elvis grins and when the traffic lights turn green, the powerful motorbike roars. Zooming straight onto the other side and squeaking into his shoulder, Elvis starts to laugh as the both of you speed down the road. Cars drive past, honking their horns in delight recognizing who you are riding on the big Harley Davidson.

Your heart beats rapidly in slight fear but as Elvis turns down through another intersection, your eyes light up at the beautiful view of the beach. Seeing little kids and parents play in the distance and couples kissing and cuddling, that uncomfortable feeling soon fades.

You start to smile, growing bigger and bigger as every second goes by.

You’ve always been confused why your uncle Timmy liked to ride his motorbike so much, everytime he would come over to your parents’ house he’d be on his Harley, whenever he would pick you up from school because your parents were out of town he’s harley would be there, taking you out on a little adventure, he’d say “Let’s take the Harley”. You didn’t understand it.

Now…Now you do.

“Go faster!” You yell, gripping Elvis’ leather jacket tighter.

“Faster?!”

“Faster, faster!”

He chuckles. “Alright!”

You look over his shoulder, watching as the speedometer goes higher and higher up in numbers.

40.

50.

60!

70!

Rumbling up and down hills, buzzing through streets and whizzing past oncoming traffic, you’re having the time of your life!

Laughing and screaming and cheering together as you two move onto the motorway, you raise your arms in the air feeling wind blowing through your hair and the orange sunset kissing your face. You feel like you’re running away from your responsibilities and that is the best but what is really the best is that you feel free, free with the love of your life.

“Faster!”

“Hold on tight!”

[sentientcave]

Heavy Weighs the Crown

Here we go friends! These chapters just keep getting longer. A larger plot begins to reveal itself to me. I am having a lot of fun here and I hope you are too.

Chapter 3 - Reading Between the Lines

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Read on AO3

Contains: Generic fantasy setting, Princess Reader, No Y/N, Some exposition, Reader's dad (deceased) was a real piece of work, Bad memories, A spot of magic, Voyeurism, Reader description kept pretty neutral but I kind of got slightly more specific about black hair care so you're just going to have to live with it.

~6k words

The next morning, it rains.

The pitter-patter of rain against your windows wakes you up, because it sounds wrong. There’s only one small window in your room in Kate’s house, and when weather blows in it’s the sound of water trickling down and dripping off the thatch roof that’s loudest, not the rain itself. Here the sound echoes strangely in the big space, and you wake with a start, disoriented, your heart-hammering in your chest.

It feels like your life in town is the dream, trickling away faster than you can cup your hands to hold onto it. You fly out of bed and wrap a blanket around your shoulders, dashing out into the hallway, bare feet cold on the stone floor. The king’s bedroom is directly across the hall from your own, and you stare at the door, frozen and unsure if you’re willing to risk knocking, breath caught in your throat, chest tight, anxiety squeezing your ribs until they ache.

You’re sixteen and twenty-six both, living two lives out in one panicking body. You no longer belong here and you’ve never been anywhere else. Your father is alive, angry, terrifying, and he’s dead and buried where he can’t hurt you anymore. You are a tossed coin landed on it’s edge, waiting to fall.

The door in front of you opens, and you leap back on instinct, but breathe a sigh of relief when it’s John standing there, looking at you with surprise first, and then concern. “Sweetpea?” he asks, stepping forward to meet you, but leaving space between your bodies, like he knows that it would be worse for him to touch you right now. “What’s wrong?”

You press your shaking fingers to your mouth, holding back a sob. You swallow it down, pulling yourself together enough to speak. “I thought it was a dream,” you say at last. “I thought he was still alive.”

There’s no question who you mean. John reaches a hand out, an offering, and you take it, clinging to him like a life-line. He reels you into his arms, and you lean in, the solid, warm bulk of him as reliable and real as the earth below. “He’s not,” he says firmly. “I put him in the ground myself. You’re safe.”

You nod against his chest, feeling small and silly now. “I’m sorry,” you say, although you’re not sure what you’re sorry for. For showing weakness, maybe, for being lost in your own memory, for needing reassurance.

“It’s early yet,” he murmurs against the top of your head. “You should try to sleep a little longer.”

You’re not sure you could even if you tried, and even though you’re still tired, the adrenaline leaving your body cold, fatigue dragging at your bones insistently. You could maybe sleep against John’s chest, holding onto him, his heartbeat steady and strong enough in your ear to drown out the still-frenetic tempo of your own. “I think I’ll just get dressed,” you say, pushing away. He drops his arms instantly, letting you put a little distance between you.

He shakes his head, smiling at you fondly, eyes crinkling up at the corners. “Sweetpea, the sun hasn’t even risen. Go back to bed. I know just the thing to help. Go on.” He turns you toward your door and nudges you along.

There’s no point in arguing with him— You are tired, and although you suspect sleep will be beyond your reach, it’s cold in the hallway, especially now that you’re no longer pressed against John’s warm chest, and your bed is still warm when you climb back in.

Darkness presses down on you, heavy as grave-dirt, and you lay there, staring at the ceiling. You touch the crystal lamp next to your bed to light up the room, but that’s no better, really.

John knocks, but doesn’t wait for your answer before coming in, a dark wolf with blue eyes trotting in on his heels. “Go on, Soap,” he says, and Soap hops up onto your bed and lays down half on top of you, his head on your shoulder, tail wagging. John pats him on the head like he’s just a dog. “He’ll keep an eye on you.”

It should probably feel weird to cuddle up with a werewolf, since he’s really a man, and you’ll have to face that silly, crooked grin in the morning, but you need someone to cling to, and you’re to proud and cautious to cling to John. “Thank you,” is all you have it in you to say.

“He gets nightmares too. Usually sleeps across someone’s bed. I’m sure he’d be happy to stay with you while you’re here.” John says it simply, without a drop of judgment or condescension, and scratches behind Soap’s ear. “He’s a real good listener when he can’t talk back too.” He withdraws, tapping the light and throwing the room into darkness again.

You don’t even hear the door click shut. You bury your face into the thick fur around Soap’s neck and fall asleep almost instantly.

When you wake up again, it's with a very large, very naked man on top of you.

You yelp, scrambling back on your pillows. Johnny’s eyes snap open at your first movement, on high alert before he’s all the way awake. He scrambles too, and falls right off the side of the bed with a solid thud.

"Oh! Johnny I'm so sorry," you look down at him from the edge of the mattress, trying not to laugh. "I forgot you were here."

"It's alright, lass. I didna mean to startle ye. Ah shift back overnight sometimes. Price didnae remember to warn ye." He sits up and leans against the bed, forearms folded over each other. He looks no worse for wear, and like he slept as solidly as you did, those last few hours. There’s a faint imprint of lace from your nightgown on his face, and half of his hair is stuck straight up, the rest pressed flat. "Are ye feelin' better?"

“I am. Thank you for staying with me.”

“S’nothin’ really. Nicer sleepin’ with you than Gaz, he kicks awl night long. An’ Nox doesnae like me none, so I cannae stay with Ghost.” He grins. “Price lets me stay but he makes me sleep at the foot of the bed like a dog. Sometimes a man wants a cuddle, ye ken?”

You giggle. “I ken.”

"Really livin' up to yer name, aye Sweetpea?"

You laugh again. "Johnny, you know that's not my name, right?"

"No? What is it?" He shakes his head when you tell him. "I like Sweetpea better. Suits ye."

"Me too," you tell him. It has no connections to your previous life. It just reminds you of the pretty pink, purple, and white flowers that grow on delicate, curling vines that you like to grow over the side of the chicken coop.

There's a knock on the door, and Johnny leaps up to see who it is. You have to hold your hand up quickly to avoid getting an eyeful of things you're not supposed to see. He's absolutely shameless-- you suspect he wouldn't think twice about strolling down the hallways without a scrap on. You have a curiousity about men's bodies that you're too bashful to indulge, even if you're pretty sure that Johnny would stand still and let you look as long as you liked. Well, maybe not stand still. But you doubt he would mind.

It's Ghost at the door. He doesn't wait for an invitation to come in, but he has clothes for Johnny hung over his arm, so you don't mind. Honestly, you can bear a few overzealous men who feel entitled to your space for a few days, because after that you'll get to go home and get back to your life.

Ghost positions himself between you and Johnny, just as he had yesterday. "Price said you 'ad a bit of an episode earlier. You olright?"

"Just fine," you say brightly. "No need to worry."

"Och, let him worry, hen. He likes ta do it."

"I'm really fine," you insist.

"You want to visit the mausoleum? Might make it feel more real."

You'd be more interested in going there to visit your mother's grave, if you're going at all, but you think that you'll wait for a sunnier day. A gray, dreary morning like the one outside your windows is no balm for dark memories or old wounds. Sunshine might be. "Not today," you say. "Maybe tomorrow." You get out of bed as gracefully as possible, well aware that you have an audience. "Perhaps the two of you could step outside for a moment while I get dressed?"

Ghost glances behind him, checking to see if Soap is covered up enough for him to move, and then walks over to your closet and pulls out a screen that you hadn't noticed sitting in the corner there, and sets it up. "There you go, Sweetpea. You'll need help with all your fastenin's anyway, won't you?"

You imagine that he's smiling under the mask, more than a little smug about it, but you let it slide. "Very thoughtful."

"Try to be."

The blank face of his mask gives you nothing when you glance over, aside from that he’s looking back. It’s not the first time that you’ve wished for more insight into what he’s thinking, but there’s a gravity to his attention that you swear was never there before, and it prickles at the back of your neck even after you duck out of sight.

You choose a sunny yellow dress today, to counter the deluge outside, and remove the silk scarf wrapped around your head so you can twist your braids on each side from your brow back to the nape of your neck, pinning the lengths into a knot. You’ll have to redo them soon, but without Kate and her wife to help you, you know it’ll take hours, if not most of a day.

You walk over to where Ghost is sitting and turn your back to him so he can button it up for you. He hands you his gloves to hold while he does so, and you run your hands over the detail of white leather bones stitched on over the well-worn black leather, decoration and extra protection both. Idly, you slip one on, but your hands are so small in comparison to his that you have to stretch your hand out just to get your fingers arranged inside it properly. He stands behind you, and leans over you to gently pull them from your hands, as though to underline again how much bigger he is than you are.

The top of your head brushes his chest when you tip your head back to look at him. “Thank you,” you say.

“I’m always ‘appy to ‘elp,” he says. “I’m with you for the mornin’ anyway. Might as well make myself useful, eh?”

“Stuck minding me?” you tease, sweeping around to fold back the sheets on your bed, only to find that one of them had already done it. Ghost, most likely, judging by how neat it is. You touch his arm lightly in silent thanks, and the three of you leave your room together.

Other than insisting you eat breakfast (served in a communal dining hall, where they insist on bringing things to you rather than let you suffer the indignity of standing in a line, and watch you eat with unnerving intensity), they’re content to follow you around as you refamiliarize yourself with the castle, mapping out changes so you don’t get turned about looking for anything. You find a number of familiar faces here and there, and have an perplexingly similar conversation with anyone you know, where they welcome you back cheerfully, and grow a bit quiet and nervous when you insist that you won’t be staying long, and when you try to press them on that, you’re ushered out, told they’re too busy to chat, and that you’ll find time to catch up later.

You suspect that Ghost and Johnny are the source of their nerves, but both of them always seem to be a few paces out of (human) earshot, and minding their own business, talking about something else quietly between them.

"Where's Kyle?" you ask as you're hustled out of the the healer's work shop and back out into the hallway. It’s become abundantly clear, no matter how well they feign innocence, that your hulking shadows are making the staff nervous, and you decide not to subject anyone else to their company. If you can slip away from them later, you might be able to have an actual conversation.

“Prob’ly ‘oled up in ‘is workshop,” Ghost says. “Some weeks we ‘ardly see ‘im.”

“Wizardy shite,” Johnny adds, his tone disapproving. “As if there aren’t a thousand ways ta blow shite intae bits withoot wigglin’ yer fingers. Can blow up flour, did ye know, Sweetpea? In barrels isnae much different than black powder.”

“Still useful to have a little magic,” you say, flipping your palm over and conjuring a flame in the centre of it. It’s one of the few spells in your cache, and you’ve mostly just used it to light candles and the stove. Your lessons barely dipped beyond simple control— You’d been told that magic was no proper pastime for a lady. When you think back on it now, you think it’s more that your father never wanted you to have defenses that he could not control, or that could be used against him. A grim thought, from this side of things.

“Forgot you ‘ave a little magic in you.” Ghost holds his hands above yours, feeling the heat coming off the small flame. “Come on, pet. Let’s find Kyle. Might be enough to pull ‘is nose out of ‘is books.”

You close your hand, extinguishing the flame, and let them guide you through a few corridors and up a spiraling stone staircase.

Johnny hesitates at the door, nose wrinkling at the slight, hard to identify smell of complex magical wards that are carved neatly into the doors. You can feel the slight hum of it in your teeth. Ghost pushes the door open without knocking (you think all four of these men might be allergic to knocking), and steps inside.

You follow, and stop right there in the doorway while Ghost ventures in further. Kyle is shirtless, doing pushups over a heavy looking book. He doesn't look up, doesn't even stop when he turns the page, just continues the exercise one handed. He's in perfect shape, every muscle well-defined, putting even some of the finely-carved marble statues you've seen to shame. He has a frame for wiry muscle, but he's worked so hard that he's gotten bulky too, and although he's not as broad as Soap or as big as Ghost, it's clear that he's stronger than most men. Certainly stronger than men of his occupation have any need to be.

"What do you want, Ghost?" Kyle asks, still focused on his reading. "I'm busy, you know."

"Brought our girl by to see you, and you don't even bother lookin' up."

Kyle’s attention does snap up at that, brown eyes sliding past Ghost’s legs to you, still hovering in the doorway, Johnny a step behind, peering over your shoulder. Kyle scrambles to his feet, sending the book flying with a gesture. It settles on the desk behind him as he steps around Ghost, dusting his hands against his trousers before he takes yours, pulling you more fully into the space. His skin gleams with a thin sheen of sweat, but he's not the least bit out of breath. “Come on in, Sweetpea. Did you come all the way up here just to see me?”

“Of course,” you say. It’s a silly question, although now that you look around the space, you’re gripped by curiousity. The circular room is lined with bookshelves, each full of thick, leather and linen-bound tomes that hum with power. The whole room sings like a chorus, the sound not in your ears, but tickling the back of your mind instead. “I was wondering where you’d gone off to. I don’t want to interrupt, of course, if you’re working on something.” Although, now that you're looking, it seems like he’s working on many things, all at once. He has a carousel of research tomes open next to the desk, and neatly written pages laid out over the desk to dry, a stack of opened and unopened correspondence in a basket hanging from the side, ingredients measured out by a shelf full of bottles and jars of strange and familiar ingredients, and there are unlit candles set around the perimeter of an open area on the floor, a circle of iridescent tile set into the stone, pale and glittering.

“Nothing important this moment. Just studying while I wait for ink to dry. The mind grows dull if you don’t take the time to keep it sharp.” He glances at Johnny meaningfully, and receives a rude gesture in response.

“There’s more’n just books if ye want to keep sharp,” Johnny says, his voice flinty. “Isnae the only way to learn, ye know.”

You glance at Ghost. His mask looks back at you, blank as ever. “There’s a place for books, and a place for practical application,” you say diplomatically. “Wisdom can be found in many places.”

“In a pretty girl, for one,” Ghost says approvingly. “Would be good for you to crack a book once in a while, Soap. And for you to spend a little less time ‘oled up in ‘ere.” His head turns toward Kyle.

“I have a lot to do, you know,” Kyle says. “I can’t just shove everything to the side whenever I please.”

You drift closer to the desk, peeking at the tome he was referencing earlier, the pages opened to a chapter on illusion spells. Curious, you glance to his notes, humming with interest at the first page you glance at. It’s something about setting spells of illusion into fabric, weaving magic into the very stitches. “Are you trying to make a cloak of shadows?” you ask, picking up the page carefully by the edges, still mindful of the mostly dried ink.

Kyle looks over at you and smiles, but it’s all teeth. “Something like that. I didn’t know you were interested in magical theory.”

“She’s got a little sorcery in ‘er,” Ghost explains. “Maybe you should give ‘er a lesson or two. While she’s ‘ere.”

Your ears perk up at that, and you drop the paper back to the desk, forgetting it entirely. “Would you?” you ask excitedly. “I really would love to learn more.”

Kyle slips his shirt back on and beckons you over to one of the bookcases, smile turning sly and conspiratorial. “Can you give me a hand Sweetpea? I need something off the top shelf.”

You look up at the top shelf, which is well out of your reach. “Kyle, I think maybe you should ask Ghost.”

“Sorry, pet, I’m busy keepin’ Soap from pilferin’ alchemical ingredients.”

"Wasnae pilferin'! Just takin' a wee looksie. Isnae a crime."

"Soap," Kyle says pleasantly. "If I find anything missing we are going to have a long talk about it." He shakes his head lightly, sweet brown eyes finding yours, amused.

"D'ye think he means a good rough fuck?" Johnny asks Ghost, not quite quiet enough for you not to hear it. "Or an actual chat? Because that's goan ta change what I do here."

"I really don't think I can help," you say to Kyle, ignoring Johnny's query as much as you can. "Unless you'd like me to climb the shelves."

"Here." He crouches down in front of you and hugs your knees to his chest, other hand a higher on the backs of your thighs to hold you steady, and pops up. You let out a little shriek, and press your hands against his strong shoulders for support. "Don't worry, Sweetpea, I've got you. Now, can you grab that slim blue volume to the right? The one with no title on the spine."

Scanning the neat row of books, you locate the one he means and pick it up. "Ive got it," you inform him, laughing. "Now please put me down."

He slides you down his front carefully, adjusting his grip, your skirts bunching up and exposing your stockinged calves, and he holds you just above him for a moment. You loop your arms around his neck reflexively, holding the book behind him. He looks up at you, so dazzlingly handsome, you're almost surprised that he's real.

"Kyle," you remind him gently. "Please put me down."

“You sure?” he asks, bringing you down just a little more, so that your face is just above his own. “You look a bit tired today, princess. Could just carry you around for the rest of the day if you like.”

“That will not be necessary,” you say firmly. “But it’s a very kind offer.”

You hear a snort from the other side of the room, but you’re not sure if it comes from Ghost or Johnny. “Nothin’ kind about it,” Johnny says, crossing his arms. “Bastard just likes the idea of bein’ pressed up against ye all day.”

“You slept in her bed last night,” Kyle reminds him. “There’s no need to be jealous.”

“Ahm no’ jealous! Yer just bein’ a fandan charmer tryna cop a wee feel, an’ ye willnae admit ta it.”

You look over at Ghost, and he shakes his head. You imagine that he’s rolling his eyes, just as exasperated by the two of them as you are. He comes to your rescue though, carefully pulling you out of Kyle’s arms and setting you back down on the floor. “Thank you, Ghost,” you say archly, shaking your crumpled skirts out with one hand.

“Sorry, Sweetpea,” Kyle says, and you can’t help but note that he certainly doesn’t sound sorry. “If you read the first chapter of this tonight, we can do a lesson in the morning. This will probably be a step up from whatever paltry lessons the old wizard gave you— I know he took offence to the idea of training you at all, the closed-minded old bastard. If you have any questions, make notes, and we can go over it.” He taps the top of the book you hold. “You can write in it, if you like. I’ve scribbled in the margins a few times myself.”

You tuck the book into your pocket. “Thank you, Kyle. I appreciate that.”

“Anything for you, Sweetpea.”

You hesitate, a bit nervous to ask a favour when he’s already agreed to take time out of his day to give you a lesson in something you’re not sure you have enough talent in to warrant. He’s cleary a busy person, and you don’t want to waste his time.

Kyle senses your hesitation, and reaches for your hand, squeezing reassuringly. “Anything,” he repeats, brown eyes oh-so earnest.

Your ears feel hot. Flirting comes as easily to him as breathing, and even though you’re sure he means little by it, by his relationship with Johnny and the claim that John has laid on you, it’s hard not to grow flustered when he directs the full force of that sunshine smile at you. “Did you ever, um, help your sisters with their hair? I’d like to have a bath this afternoon, and wash my hair, but it’ll take me ages to rebraid it alone. I would really appreciate an extra set of hands if you have a spare minute tomorrow.”

He grins at that, pleased to be able to help you with something that Ghost and Johnny are ill-equipped to. The scar on his cheek dimples slightly when he smiles this hard, the slight flaw in his complexion more a dashing accessory to his charm than any detractor. “Would be happy to help. Do you have everything else you need? Oil? Curl cream?”

You hadn’t thought to check what was in the cupboard in the bathroom. “I’m not sure,” you admit.

“I have some. I’ll bring them by your room later this afternoon, just in case.”

Ghost offers to walk you back to your room, leaving Johnny behind to discuss something with Kyle, although as soon as the door closes, you hear a crash and a series of colourful swear words. You glance behind you as Ghost ushers you down the stairs. “Should we—”

“No. Trust me, Sweetpea. They’re just fine, and not doin’ anything you want to see.”

“Oh.” The implication warms you from the tips of your ears to somewhere in your belly.

“You’ve got the lads all worked up,” Ghost adds, as though you needed more context. “Competin’ with each other to get a smile out of you. Let ‘em blow off a little steam.”

“I don’t understand why they’re so concerned with me, if they have each other,” you say, trailing one hand over the wall, feeling the bumps of cool stone and seams between the cut blocks as you descend. “And John has made no secret of his intentions.”

He touches your arm to halt you, and moves past, taking a few extra steps so he stands below you, the near-hidden gleam of his eyes on level with yours. The two of you are alone here, where the curve of the stairs create a private universe, a pocket of stone and crystal light casting meagre shadow. "What are your intentions?" He asks. "Are you goin' to just let 'im take what 'e pleases?"

"I intend to go home," you say. "I won't be staying."

"Olright, maybe you do go 'ome. And what'f Kyle or Johnny came sniffin' round to court you themselves?"

"They won't."

"Why wun't they? You're a ray of sunshine sweet girl. You're the only one that don't see it."

"Ghost--"

"No, hush up for a moment, princess. You've got the wrong idea. I personally threatened every man that so much as looked your way. For years. Din't think about 'ow that'd make you feel. You're beautiful. Enough to chase, enough to go to bloody war for." His body is still, save for the slightest twitch of his fingers. “I don’t know why you can’t see it. You make us all crazy.”

The surety that John would really let you go slips as Ghost speaks, something fundamental about your footing in the world shifting uneasily beneath you. You had found comfort in the idea that you were quotidian, unremarkable. That the crown alone was aggrandizing, and you could pass unnoticed without it. Now you wonder if you’ve ever gone unnoticed, or if it was just that you had been too obtuse to see. “It doesn’t matter,” you insist. It’s easier to reject what he says outright, even if Ghost has never lied to you, never given you a reason to doubt his words. The ground settles. “I will be going home in a few days, and once John has my official endorsement none of you will have to keep an eye on me again.”

“You won’t rid yourself of me that easily,” he says firmly. “Keepin’ you safe’s one of the only jobs that I do that’s worth doin’. I promised your mum I would, an’ I don’t intend to break my oath just because you don’t think you’re worth it.”

“My mother asked you to?” You had always thought Ghost’s orders had come from your father, setting the quiet, faceless, black-clad knight on your heels, as close as a shadow, only leaving your side when the king sent him off to fight, somewhere far and away. “Why?”

“Figured she could tell I ‘aven’t got an ounce of ambition in me. Used to, before I came ‘ere. Didn’t do me any good. Can’t trust my own head, sometimes. But if I can trust what’s ‘ere—” He puts his hand to his chest, head tipped slightly to the side. “— Then I know I can trust what’s in there.” He lifts his hand and taps his finger against your forehead lightly.

You blink at him, surprised by how much he’s said all at once. Abruptly, he turns around and continues down the stairs, finished the conversation. You spur yourself back into motion, sweeping your skirts up with one hand so you don’t trip. There’s no doubt that you could trust Ghost to catch you, but the risk of sending you both tumbling down the long spiral staircase has you moving cautiously.

He stays with you for a bit, offering help unbraiding your hair and unbuttoning your dress, and leaves without protest when you ask him to. Predictably, he’s quiet the entire time, as though he used up his daily quota of words all at once in the stairway.

You lay out everything you need close to the tub, and sink into a hot bath, sighing. This is perhaps one of the few things you really did miss about castle life— Hot running water. If you wanted a hot bath in town, you would either have to go to the public bathhouse, or spend a good hour boiling enough water to fill a tub at Kate’s house.

You hum happily to yourself, which turns to singing out loud, the acoustics in the tiled room too good to resist. You sing your way through a number of folk songs as you run a cloth over your skin and scrub your hair clean, hot water and soap washing away what little of the darkness from that morning that company and distraction hadn’t banished, clinging shadows in the corners of your mind scoured clean again.

You pull the plug and let the water start to drain, and stand up, wringing your hair out before you reach over to the towel you’d set aside for yourself, bracing you hand on the side of the tub.

“What are you two muppets doing?” John’s voice coming through the cracked open door startles you. And it startles Johnny and Kyle too, because they tumble through the door onto the tiled floor, landing on top of each other in a heap.

You clutch the towel to your front, unable to keep yourself from letting out a surprised shriek. It takes a moment for surprise to give way to anger, your shocked, wide-eyed gaze traveling from Johnny’s red face to Kyle’s guilty expression to John in the doorway, a complicated mix of stony anger and surprise in his blue eyes. Both emotions fade as his attention lingers on your exposed legs, crawling up slowly.

“I came to drop off— But he was—” Kyle starts to try to explain himself.

“Dinnae try to blame tha’ on me, ye fuckin’ roaster, Ahm no’ a’ fault for what yer doin’,” Johnny cuts him off angrily, shoving Kyle off of him. “Yer no’ better than me just ‘cause ye weren’t here first.”

“I wouldn’t have—”

You level a glare at him that has his mouth shutting so fast that you can hear the click of his teeth. “Get out.”

The two of them scramble up and nearly fall over themselves trying to get out as quickly as possible, mortified to have been caught. They start sniping at each other before they’ve even gotten out of earshot.

John, however, doesn’t budge from the doorway. You direct your fury at him. “John. Get out.”

He doesn’t scramble to obey like the younger men did, as is he has any more right to be there than they did. “Sweetpea,” he says evenly, as though he expects to be able to talk you down from your very justified anger with a few measured words.

“Now,” you snap. “Before I lose my temper.”

He hesitates a moment longer, but the look on your face makes him reconsider trying to have a conversation with you for the moment, and he leans into the room just enough to grasp the door handle and pull it closed behind him as he retreats.

You look at the ceiling for a long moment, swallowing down the urge to scream.

By the time Ghost comes to fetch you for dinner (unsurprising that the other three didn’t have the nerve) you’ve mostly calmed down, untangling your emotions as you do your hair. You hope that John will have news of your cousin’s witness, so you can count down the days. The longing for home has intensified, and all you want is to curl up in your bed in Kate’s house and cry. If it will be weeks, you’ll ask if you can go home in the interim, and come back when the time comes to make your speech.

Ghost helps you button up your dress. You’re so tired of needing help from them. Your ire bleeds over, and you’re snappy with him too, annoyed that you’ve had to spend so much time with men lately. Aggravated that you’re forced to rely on them for something as private as getting dressed, when they shouldn’t even be alone with you in your room to begin with.

You apologize on the way down the stairs, however. Ghost just chuckles in response. “Even when you’re snappin’, you’re a peach,” he says. “Don’t think you missed a single opportunity for a please and thank you. Can’t ‘elp yourself from bein’ sweet.”

“Well, you didn’t do anything,” you say. “I’m not angry with you, I shouldn’t be rude.”

“Think it would be a bit of a lark, you bein’ rude.”

You laugh, and it clears away some of the lingering bitterness, like sediment washing away downstream. You feel remarkably clear-headed when you enter the dining room and face the three sets of guilty eyes.

All three of them start to speak at once, and stop as soon as you raise your hand. “I don’t want to hear it,” you say firmly. “All three of you are grown men, and you should know better than to behave so shamefully.”

John frowns, not happy to be receiving the same share of the blame. “Sweetpea, I wasn’t—”

“I am not finished.” You cut him off with a sharp look. “I know I do not need to chastise any of you. All of you were in the wrong. But I share some of the blame too, allowing you all free access to my space in the first place. So here is what will change. One, I would like a lock on my door. No more popping in without permission. Two, you will all learn how to knock. Three, I would like a lady to accompany me for the rest of my stay here. It is not appropriate for me to accept assistance from any man with dressing, and I do not require shadows following me everywhere I go.”

Ghost shifts beside you. “Now ‘old on,” he says. “You need protection.”

“I need no such thing. I do not believe there are assassins waiting around every corner for me.”

“I should be with you,” he insists. “If somethin’ ‘appens—”

“What do you expect is going to happen?” you ask hotly. You’ve lived on your own for years, and your hiding place was apparently well known to everyone. If an assassin was coming to dispatch you, they would have already come. The opportunities had likely been plentiful.

“Ghost is right. You need to be kept safe.” John holds up both hands when you look at him, half a surrender and half a plea for you to hear him out. You raise your eyebrows slightly, waiting. “A compromise. A fighting woman. Someone that can help you with anything you need, and can defend you if something were to happen.”

You incline your head. It’s a reasonable compromise. “That would be acceptable.”

“Farah?” Kyle asks.

“If she’ll say yes, she’d be the person I trust most with Sweetpea’s safety.” John glances at you, and offers you a little smile, like he’s not sure that you’re entirely done scolding. “You’ll like her. I’ll have her meet you in town tomorrow. Want you fitted for something nice to wear for your speech.”

“There is a closet full of perfectly nice dresses in my room,” you say. “I do not need anything else.”

“Indulge me. Your cousin’s man will be here tomorrow night, and the day after we’ll have you make your statement.” John’s smile widens, turning the slightest, inexplicable bit smug. “Want you to look your best, if it’s to be your last day as a princess, hm? And then on to better things.”

You sigh. It can't hurt to give in on this matter, since you won't have to stay much longer. “Very well, John. Although I think it’s a waste.”

The look in his deep blue eyes is inscrutable, but his smile doesn't slip. “I disagree. Nothing you let me give to you could ever be a waste.”

***

Image credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - Divider by CafeKitsune

[bellewintersroe]

How the Easy Boys Act during Bastogne x reader headcanons.

So I wanted to explore about how each of the different boys would handle being in a relationship during Bastogne. I want to try keep this (semi) realistic especially surrounding the rules of fraternisation in the army. Ps - I hope you guys enjoy! I love writing headcanons but struggle with motivation so feel free to send me requests of any headcannons/ scenarios you guys wanna see!

Eugene Roe:

Let’s start with the most notable boy within the Bastogne episodes. Gene goes through so much as a medic, although he’s so selfless throughout his whole experience.

I think because he’s already worrying about so many of the men getting hurt he’s also got the anxiety of worrying if you’re safe.

after a heavy artillery barrage he would pray for your health and safety. And I mean that. He’s a good Catholic boy (I think) so he probably does this morning and night.

whenever he has chance/ a safe opportunity he would come to see you. I think he’d feel guilty about coming empty handed, and when there’s other people around his gestures have to be small, such as knocking your hand or arm with his.

The more under pressure he becomes the more you’d see it. I think he’d be so stressed, his shell shock is evident and it’s painful to see as a partner. I think he’d even attempt to pull away to a certain extent before he realised that would do no good.

probably gets really bad anxiety if you’re exposed to the gunfire, and definitely wants to protect you from seeing some of the horrific scenes that you’d most undoubtedly see anyway.

puts a hand in front of you if you’re walking to fast. He’d never just randomly sneak off with you just to have ‘alone time’ because he’s aware of the risks. He’d never EVER gamble with your life- holy shit until you get outta there he’s a panicked mess.

Needs a partner who can talk to him, even if he doesn’t feel like opening up, just knowing you’d semi understand is reassuring.

finally is able to give you the biggest bear hug of all time behind a half bombed out building. It’s kinda emotional and longing, but Gene would sigh into your hair or your shoulder, and tighten his grip when he realised how desperately he’d needed your love and comfort.

you’d be a real comfort to him in Bastogne, however during the actual battle of the bulge I think he’d be very overworked on the lines. Even if you are on the lines he fears for you and always tries his best to get you further towards some kinda safer area.

Carwood Lipton:

Alike Eugene, he’s under an immense amount of pressure.

somehow he manages to keep morale up, and seeing you safe everyday and just flashing him an smile would really send a sense of relief and comfort through him.

like he seriously has even more motivation to fight and come home safe, because if you.

it sounds cheesy, ik, but Lip is a man deeply in love and he couldn’t forget that even if he tried.

strictly professional, ok. So no sneaky business… the furthest your relationship probably gets in Bastogne is smiles of reassurance and lingering touches on the upper back.

like you get knocked over and winded once, Lipton practically scrambles over and collapses next to you, pulling you up out of the snow with the most horrified expression.

nah he’d be so good at calming you down and helps you take deep breaths. His hand would be soothing over your upper back, and when nobody’s looking he maybe, maybe might sneak a kiss on your cheek.

so soft and caring. Seriously. You’re the first person he looks for after any serious bombing.

Babe Heffron:

So I think there’s Babe before Julian’s death and then Babe after his friends death.

before he’s pretty good at keeping morale up, he’s kinda fidgety and nervous, but for the most part he just wants to make you smile. Would do his utter most to cheer you up, even if it’s just making a little snow man for you.

Ah he’d be so cute. He’s like a big kid at heart and he’d have this big, longing eyes watching you wherever you went. He feels comfortable knowing you’re within a distance that you can see one another. People know you two have a relationship, but for the sake of rules and regulations it’s kept under wraps.

After Julian however, you’d kinda say ‘scrap the rules’ and sneak off to where you know is Foxhole is. It’s him and Spina, but you sneak in and hug his arm, whispering words of reassurance.

when Gene comes in you’d kinda panic, but you realise it’s only him so it’s not bad. He ain’t no snitch.

I think Babe would become mentally tougher after Julian’s death- well he comes across like this, but he wouldn’t wanna talk about what happened with you because he knows it would make him into a wreck.

hates crying and being vulnerable in front of you so probably tells you to ‘go away’ but IMMEDIATELY takes it back omfg.

would try to hide in foxholes with you just so he can at least have some well needed comfort from his girl that makes everything better.

Don Malarkey:

I think similar to Babe he’s a lot different when he first goes to Bastogne compared to when he leaves. (As many of the guys understandably would be).

but he’s the funny guy, he’s popular, he’s witty and hilarious, not to forget he’d be such a gentleman with you. Literally so kind and gentle. He’d always walk across the forest to come see you, every single day- no fail.

All the other nurses or women think it’s soooo romantic, even though you two are usually just sat talking. (He’d deffo sneak a kiss or two in there).

so when he loses several of his closest buddies in such a short amount of time, he goes into a deep shock, and although the visits don’t stop, you can tell he’s a shell of what he once was.

I think Don would really crave that physical comfort, like hugging him, stroking his hair- but it’s soo difficult to get that level of privacy, especially out in the open. I think this is something that you could struggle with as a couple.

Malarkey would have these great big sad, puppy eyes and you’d practically just have to bear hug him at the most random times. He’s so soft- I can’t.

Everybody knows the shit Malarkey has been through, they understand, so if they see you two embracing they turned a blind eye to it- nobody is about to snitch.

Lewis Nixon:

Ok so I feel like you and Lewis would be stationed in different areas. Like you’d be further back/ forwards on the line? Maybe stationed in the town?

anyway this makes it increasingly difficult to see one another, and I think Lewis has a real, niggling anxiety about your health and safety.

like at night he’d struggle to sleep over the thought of you being as cold as he is.

I think he’d feel so detached from your relationship, and there’s nothing neither of you can do/ prioritise in such a horrific situation.

when you two are around each other there’s always soft, subtle gestures that are sorta toned down versions of the way you both really want to act.

Maybe Lewis sees your shrunken appearance for the first time in a week or two, and he’s watching you with massively sad eyes, he’s bringing you into where him and Winters stay, offering you food, coffee.

He’d probably question why they’re not taking care of you better, but it’s kinda like? There is nobody to really take care of you, everybody’s in the same boat and Lewis hates it.

Has to settle for giving you friendly side hugs but all he really wants to do is wrap you up in a blanket and huddle you to somewhere safer, warmer, better than this.

he probably just wants a cuddle :/.

Joe Liebgott:

I think at first Joe would play by the rules because you wanted to. Like you’re worried of getting into trouble and want to be cautious with expressing your relationship too openly.

So he’d go a long with it at first, but I can imagine him stopping by your foxhole or wherever you’re stationed, even just to walk past and give you a smile. He 100% looks out for you, and if he doesn’t see you he’s like, “hey where tf is she? She was here yesterday?!” “She’s washing her hair, Liebgott…”

I feel like something might happen? Let’s say you get wounded, it’s nothing too severe, but it’s a close call. After that Joe is literally like “fuck the rules” and would come hop into your foxhole.

even if there’s other people in there, he just wants to make sure you’re ok at the end of the day.

when he can be alone with you I think he’d cover the foxhole with a blanket and practically throw himself around you. Kisses you loads, and he can barely do it properly because he’s got this childlike grin wiped across his face.

I think it really makes a difference to Liebgott that he can spend time with you, it’s so cold and miserable out there, that he takes anything he can get, and cuddling with you is his fav way to warm up, aw.

maybe gets roaming hands at one point and you have to be like “Joe, we’re sat in a hole surrounded by Germans, are you really trying this on rn?”

obviously Joe gets taken off the line during Bastogne because he’s quite literally at his breaking point. (Me and @liebgotts-lovergirl have just been discussing Lieb actually so all credit to her as it’s given me inspo!)

He’s so stressed out and it would be painful to see, I think he’d fully avoid taking it out on you because that would make him feel like the worlds worst person, but at the same time all he was is a stupid frickin hug and sometimes it’s so difficult to get.

please go visit him when he’s taken off the line, it’ll be a lot easier and god knows Lieb needs it 🥺

Would be so soft and happy with you if you surprise visited/ snuck up on him omg.

Shifty Powers:

This boy is soooo respectful, ok. He’s caring, kind, sweet, but respect is his utter most priority.

so I don’t think he’d be flaunting your relationship out and about in Bastogne? Seriously there’s more heavier things to focus on.

BUT Shifty 100% thinks about you and your relationship every single day. Like Gene, I think he prays for your safety, he’s constantly on the look out for danger- but also now he’s watching danger surrounding you.

war can be a dangerous place to have distractions such as a relationship, it’s nothing personal, but Shifty fears if he loses focus something bad will happen to those around him.

when the coast is clear and he’s not putting anybody into danger, he’d always be so polite and come over to ask if you’re ok. He’d help you dig out your foxhole some more and you’d patch him up or get him new gloves in return.

he’d be eternally grateful, and then probably try to put the gloves on you instead because he’s worried your fingers are gonna fall off hahaha.

when you leave Bastogne and have privacy again Shifty cuddles you sosososos much, there’s so much hand holding and small kisses- he’s 10000% gonna make up for lost time.

Ron Speirs:

I’m gonna be honest IDEK HOW YOUD GET IN A RELARIONSHIP WITB HIM INNTHE FIRST OKACE.

He’s so sexy and intimidating, but especially during the war his mind would NOT be on dating. But let’s assume it is, ok?

I think Ron has no option but to stay focused, you technically are his weakness, so whenever he sees you he has a difficult time maintaining his demeanour.

small things like ‘But she’s alright, right?’ And just asking where you guys are stationed fill him with relief.

when he thinks about you all alone in that foxhole he gets the sweats, he starts shaking and he feels pathetic, but it’s the only time he’d allow himself to feel that way. He must operate like a soldier, not like a little boy in love.

it’s just very conflicting, because he is very much deeply in love, he just can’t show it.

when you get time alone after Bastogne I think Ron almost breaks down. His head would drop and he’s pulling you into his arms, apologising unnecessarily.

everybody's under such an immense amount of pressure, so I feel like he’d need some good words of reassurance, but also he’d just need a longgggg hug to embrace the comfort you provide him with.

Skip Muck:

Nothing bad happens to him ok? Let’s just pretend here for the sake of a fic.

he’s a ray of sunshine, but I think he’d be so amazing at reading peoples thoughts and feelings, especially yours. So when he can see you’re particularly more upset than usual, he grabs you, preventing you from leaving with everybody else and takes your hand, pulling you into a gentle forehead kiss.

I think he’d be better with his actions rather than words, so sometimes all he needs to do is cup your face and just gaze over you before you’d fall into his chest in relief.

thank god you’ve got a guy like Skip, he’d look out for you so much, keep your morale up, and like Babe, I think he’d do super cute stuff like attempt to make you a little snowman to pass time and avert your minds from immanent danger.

Writes about you to his family at home.

probably wants to keep you well and fed. All the rations are slim, but he would save you his or sneak you some more food, seriously he’s so caring over your health and well-being.

Joe Toye:

He’s so handsomeeee oh my-

so I think there’d be a lot of lingering and longing gazes. When you first go to Bastogne, he’s probs wanting your attention so bad for more selfish reasons? If you can call normal boyfriend tendency’s ‘selfish’.

but when things very quickly become more severe and traumatising, those longing gazes turn into ones of sadness and care.

he’d really watch out for you, and he’d never let you walk anywhere unless he was there, or he’d at least offer.

“I’m gonna go into the town for a couple hours today, Joe.”

“That’s a good idea, keepin’ yourself nice and safe away from the lines, baby.”

wants you protected and safe at all costs so I think he’d ask people like Guarnere and Malarkey, those he’s closest to, to watch out for you when he can’t.

grabs your belt holes to pull you to safety, at times he’d be tempted to lift you over his shoulder and carry you to safety, he wouldn’t live with himself if anything bad happened to you.

when he does get badly wounded, you’re both in shock, it all happens so quick and Joe is so upset when you stumble on the scene and have to see him like that.

He feels bad for seeing you so upset? Like you’re traumatised and he can’t sleep that night without images of your sad, paled face in his mind.

he’s worried he’s somehow scared you off?? The extent of his injuries are horrific, but he’s still alive. He’d be worried about you every second until you are allowed to finally come visit him.

oh my god, he’d be so so relieved. A little worried, but genuinely at peace to see that you’re safe and okay.

Alton More:

Big sweetheart, a little naughty so kinda plays around the rules. Like fraternisation? Idk her, I’m in 3rd platoon and she’s in 2nd sooo stuff your fraternisation rules.

smirks at you, especially when he sees you all wrapped up in the coat he stole for you. He’s never been happier than seeing you warm.

1000% would attempt to sneak into your foxhole? I just think he’s not good at being sneaky however and gets caught and told to go back to his own foxhole.

gets worried tho when he sees you’ve given your coat to a more injured soldier, he hurried over and he’s wrapping his arms around you, worried as to why your lips are so blue and your teeth are chattering.

“damn it y/n, I think you’re turning into a little ice cube.”

When his hands are warm he sticks them under your shirt to warm up your skin, opposing when he usually sticks his cold hands into your warm shirt. He’s not that cruel however, especially not in god damn Bastogne.

Has a bit of a mental breakdown because he thinks you’re wounded when he can’t find you, like he fully freaks tf out, but he’s engulfing you in a HUGE bear hug when he finds out safe as sound. (You were just singing in a foxhole with Alley and Liebgott).

seriously a massive sweetheart tho, steals chocolate for you, attempts to somehow mix the chocolate and the snow to make you ‘chocolate ice cream’ it kinda flops but it’s so cute.

[starfirewildheart]

Chapter 17

Summary: Sy and his lady both retire from the army but not before tragedy befalls Sy. He slowly tries to adjust to life again on their ranch.

Pairing: Sy / OFC

Word count: 2,512

Rating: no one under 17. I'm not responsible for what you read. Kindly police yourself.

Chapter 17

August glanced over his shoulder into the back seat. Three weeks and two surgeries later the hospital finally agreed to let Debbie go home. She still had a long road ahead and it still didn't guarantee a full recovery and her anxiety was through the roof at times and at other times was so depressed she was nearly catatonic and a few normal days scattered in between. She was refusing to eat and in general sulking like a brat. Sy hoped getting her home would help.

Mike had been released after a week and a half. Walt had taken custody of him and Napoleon and Will were staying with them as security until everyone was jailed, including the corrupt cops. He was recovering physically but emotionally he was distant and shutting them out.

Geralt turned onto the long, tree lined drive admiring the land and imagining what it looked like in summer. He loved the country and a working ranch brought a warm feeling to his heart. He drove past the barns where a few work trucks sat along with ranch hands tending horses noting a beautiful chestnut mare before turning his attention back to the drive. Finally they pulled up in front of the large ranch style home and parked. Everyone got out, Sy helping Deb out and lifting her into his arms bridal style while Geralt and August got everyone's bags.

Deb took a deep breath of the fresh air ecstatic to smell anything besides anesthetic and medicinal scents that she'd been trapped in for weeks. 

“Where's Aika?” Deb asked, seeking out their furry friend. 

“She's with my sister and the kids. They are bringing her home tomorrow. “ He gently bounced her in his arms. “Where would ya like to get comfy sugar?” Sy asked as they all walked in. All the Christmas stuff was still up even though it was after Christmas now because they hadn't got to celebrate yet.

“Bath.”

 “Baby,” he started but was cut off. 

“Bath,” firmer.

“You want to wash off again?” He could see wanting to smell like their soap and not hospital bath in a bag shit so he started toward their ensuite bathroom. He sat her on the edge of the bed with her bad leg up and started gathering clean clothes for her.

“No Sy, a real bath.”

He turned to her. “You know you can't get your leg wet Deb. Your stitches could come apart or you could get an infection.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled.  “I don't care. I've not been in a bath or even a shower in three weeks!” When he arched his brow at her and crossed his arms over his chest she sighed and stood shakily on her good leg. “I'll do it myself!”

“Sit down!” He yelled and stepped forward. She sat down and blinked up at him with wide eyes. He hated yelling at her after all she'd been through but he refused to let her act out like that. “Little girl, you will not hurt yourself or cause any further injury just because you want to get your way.” He gripped her chin in his big hand and forced her to hold eye contact. “I'm gonna try to get you into the bathtub but if it doesn't work I will give you a sponge bath and you won't fight me on it. Got it?”

“Yes sir,” She agrees . “I'm sorry I yelled. I just feel so dirty and I haven't… I know I've been washed but I just

.. I still feel their hands on me and i…I just want to wash it all away.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. 

Fifteen minutes later she was perched on the vanity in nothing but a shirt and bulky leg brace that went from her upper thigh to her ankle. 

Sy was filling the tub with water when something hit him in the back of the head. “Woman,” he turned to face her, suddenly realizing it was her shirt she'd thrown and she was now sitting on the vanity completely naked. “Fuck,” he rasped all blood flow in his body going straight to his dick. 

“I hope so,” She grinned,  crooking her finger and beckoning him to her. When he was close enough she fisted his shirt and pressed their mouths together in a heated kiss. Sy pressed against her, hooking her good leg over his hip and she felt him pulsing against her through his cargo pants. Tears brimmed in her eyes.

“Are you hurting?” He asked as he wiped a tear away with his thumb.

She shook her head , eyes locked with his while she tried to get her emotions under control enough to speak. Swallowing past the huge lump in her throat she pressed her hand to his bulge rubbing it and relishing in his sharp intake of air. “You still want me.”

“What? Of course I want you Deb. You're my life.” He didn't understand how that could even be a question but he could see the doubt in her eyes. “Debbie?”

“I just,” She didn't know how to express how she felt. Like she couldn't form the words much less say them. “I…”

“Talk to me darlin’, please.”

“Sy, the water,” She pointed to the nearly overflowing tub.

“Fuck!” he ran over and shut the water off just before it spilled over the edge of the tub. He laughed but drained enough of the water that she could get in without it pouring on the floor then went back to her. Cupping her face in his hands he leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. “Please talk to me. Don't shut me out Deb. I know you remember the hell we both went through when I tried to hide my thoughts from you. I was lost in my own hell and putting you through it too. We promised to tell each other everything after that, remember?”

She knew exactly what he was talking about. When he was recovering from his POW time he felt like he was too much, not worth the work, or the love she had for him and he tried everything he could to make her leave him but she refused. It nearly broke them both. “i..I'm not the one for you. Not your soul mate anyway. You're settling for me because I'm safe and comfortable.”

Sy felt like someone punched a fist into his chest and was crushing his heart. “You're my world Debbie, my heart, my everything. I'm sorry if I haven't shown you what you mean to me. Please, give me a chance to….”

“Austin, no! It's not that at all. You treat me like a queen and I know that you love me!” She hugged him tight. “This isn't about anything you've done or not done. It's about me. It's about me not being enough. I mean family is everything to you and your mom hates me. I turned your dream ranch into an animal rescue because I needed to feel like I was doing something helpful. I just latched on to you and didn't even notice that you weren't settling down or or ,” he head was pounding.

“That I haven't given you a ring so you couldn't possibly be what makes me happy? Isn't that what Lindy told you that night at the restaurant?” When he watched her he'd dip down because she couldn't look at him he gritted his teeth. “I haven't given you the ring yet because I wanted to be sure I could be the man you deserve,  that I could overcome the PTSD enough to give you a life, sugar. It has everything to do with you but not how you're thinking. I was so afraid of not being good enough I didn't show you how much I can't live without you.”

She shook her head, “No. It's not your..”

“We both said that but clearly there is a problem, sugar because you are doubting us.”

“Doubting me,” She explained quietly.

Realization washed over him and it all became crystal clear. She'd been his rock for so long he'd forgotten how she was when they first met. The chip she had on her shoulder because she felt like she had to prove she was good enough, that she could be the best at everything. He took it as a woman having to prove herself in a man's military at first but the more he was around her he realized that she was afraid to let anyone close, trusted no one to even have her six. She lived like she herself was the only one in the world she could trust or depend on. It led to a lot of being reprimanded, write ups, push ups, pull ups, and finally a talking to that finally made her see thongs from Sy's point of view about having to trust her team or they were all in danger. That was when he really started trying to get to know her in earnest, when he eventually learned about her abuse and abandonment. She'd come so far and he'd been through so much that he didn't realize she needed reassurance he wasn't giving her. He was a fucking moron. 

She gasped when Sy grabbed her face and kissed her and didn't stop until her tense muscles finally relaxed against him and she was breathless. She didn't even register him removing the leg brace until he was lowering her into the hot water, careful to keep her bad leg resting on the side of the tub. She sighed contentedly as she leaned back. Sy chuckled, “Feel good?”

“So good!” 

They both jumped at the knock on the bathroom door. Sy stood and went to see who it was.

“Your sister is here,” Geralt told him. “She needs to talk to you.”

“I'll be right there,” he sighed. He went back to Deb. “You stay put. If you aren't in the same position you are now when I get back I'm going to spank you until you can't sit and when that ass starts to cool down and feel better then I'm going to do it all over again and again until I feel like you learned your lesson and if I get tired I'll let Gearlt and August takeover.”

She fully intended to protest but what came out of her was more of a strangled whimper. He cleared his throat to hide his chuckle.  “I'll be good, I promise.”

“I know you will, sugar.” 

Sy went to speak to his sister and Debbie soaked in her hot bath. She sat still for a bit but really wanted to wash. Chewing her lip she pondered if grabbing the soap would be against the rules. Stretching her arm out she reached the soap without moving her butt at all and took it as a victory. Lathering up her bath puff she started washing herself. Once she felt squeaky clean she grabbed her razor and started shaving … everywhere. After three weeks she resembled a sasquatch except the leg and arm (shoulder) they'd done surgery on. When that was done she settled for a few minutes but quickly got bored, she was all alone after all. “Oooo jets!” Pressing the button the jacuzzi jets bubbled to life and massaged her sore muscles only with her bad leg up at an awkward angle it exposed her to the full force of the jets causing her to jerk and gasp. The pain that shot though her leg was almost instantly replaced with need as she used her finger to further expose her clit to the jet. Using her other hand she slipped two fingers into her slit working them hard and fast chasing the pleasure she didn't realize she needed so badly. Turning her body a little toward the side of the tub the jet hit the perfect spot and even though she couldn't reach the spot inside due to her awkward positioning the jet was doing the trick. Her hips slowly started to flutter as she threw her head back and whimpered through her release moving her hand away from exposing her clit as the pulse of the jet became uncomfortable. She hadn't noticed Sy come back in or even approach until she felt his fingers pushing into her still quivering hole. “Fuck!” She squealed at the stretch and shock of it.

He lifted her ass up out of the water enough to latch his mouth onto her clit and switch between sucking and licking until he'd made her cum two more times, the last time screaming out his name with a series of loud moans.

Sy got her out of the tub and carried her straight to the bed. It was tall enough that he could just bend her over the edge, carefully resting her bad leg out to the side up on the bed leaving her open to his hungry gaze. “You ready for me sugar? Gonna take my dick like a good girl?”

“Please,” he begged, trying to rub her ass back against him. She gasped when his big hand smacked against her ass leaving a burning ache in its wake.

“Be still, your brace is still off. You're in trouble as it is, little girl.” He grinned when she went still, knowing she was thinking about the spanking he told her she'd get if she moved earlier. He took the distraction to push himself in up to the hilt causing them both to moan at the sensation. “So fuckin tight for me, like your made to fit my dick.”

All she could do was moan incoherently as he railed her from behind, each thrust causing her to gasp as he pounded against her cervix. It was painful but the pull out and push in up to that point was bliss. She was losing the battle of control over her body and clamped down on him as tight as she could, wanting to give him some of the pleasure he'd Given her.

“Son of a bitch,” he growled as she squeezed him so tight he thought his brain was coming out of his cock. Reaching under her he started rubbing her clit. “Cum for me. I want to feel you come apart when I fill you full of cum.” A few more circles to her bundle of nerves and she was rutting between his cock and fingers.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” She cried as she exploded around him and he emptied inside of her, the wet squelching sound of their combined releases echoing in the room as he collapsed breathlessly beside her.

Tag List

@shellyshellshell

@enchantedbytomandhenry

@mrsevans90

@summersong69

@mollymal

@warriormirkwood

@bloodyinspiredme

@kneelforloki

@liecastillo

@mollymal

[matchalattegreen]

Curtis Brothers: "Speak up"

"Soda will you drive Pony to school?"

Soda took a breath. "Dare, I'm gonna be late to work."

Darry rolled his eyes. "Get Steve to cover for you it's not that big of a deal.

"But-" Soda began then sighed. "Ok, I'll drive him."

Soda was used to being pushed and pulled around to do all sorts of things. Drop Pony off, fix the car, unclog the sink, polish the windows. He never got a break. He's sure if he spoke his mind he could get out of it. The only reason they made him do it was because they thought he didn't mind. However, deep down, the pressure was building in his chest and Soda just wanted it to stop.

After he dropped Ponyboy off at school, Soda drove to work. His best friend Steve was waiting there.

"Hey Sodapop," Steve greeted with a smile. Suddenly his smile faded. "What's wrong Soda, you look kinda down."

"I'm just-" Soda had to stop. He was about to crack.

Steve put an arm around him. Steve was the only one that knew how much this pressure was getting to Soda.

Soda began struggling to breathe. His breath came in sharp, rapid gasps. Then came the tears.

“Hey Soda, it’s ok just take deep breaths and let it all out,” Steve said in a soothing tone.

Soda continued to cry and hyperventilate. “I do this all the time… I don’t know why…”

“Shh, shh,” said Steve. “It’s called an anxiety attack. You’ve had too much pressure on you lately and it’s causing you to crack. It happens to the best of us. You’ve just got it real bad lately.”

Soda tried catching his breath but it was getting harder and harder.

“Hey it’s ok,” said Steve. “Deep breath in, deep breath out.”

Soda inhaled slowly until his lungs couldn’t be filled anymore. Then he slowly let it out.

“Good, good now do that a couple more times,”Steve encouraged.

Soda continued to breathe in and out until his breath was slower and his tears were almost gone.

“There you go, it’s gonna be alright buddy,” Steve said, rubbing Soda’s back.

Suddenly they heard another voice. “Soda you forgot your lunch at home!”

It was Darry. He froze as soon as he saw Soda’s state. “What’s wrong little brother?”

Soda was about to brush it off and saw he was fine but Steve gave him a look saying to let it out.

Soda took a deep breath. “Darry I’ve been really stressed out lately. You make me do so much because you think I’m fine with it but actually, it’s been giving me a lot of anxiety.”

Darry looked surprised. He wasn’t expecting to hear this from his little brother.

“Oh I’m sorry buddy,” he said with sympathy. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

Soda sighed. “Because… I was too afraid to speak up.”

Darry nodded. “Well I’m glad you spoke up little buddy. We'll try not to put so much pressure on you anymore. We just kept doing it because we didn’t think you’d mind. You kept all your true feelings bottled up. But now that we know we’ll try to do better. I’m sorry.”

With this Darry have Soda a tight hug and Soda returned it.

“I’m glad I spoke up,” Soda said.

“I’m glad you did too,” Darry said with a smile.

[seiya234]

for @dril-cipher because this is your fucking fault. also @marypsue for giving this perfectly good ape anxiety.

-----

Ian looked around.

Well, this certainly wasn't his beautiful house, that was for certain.

It looked uncomfortably like one of the designs for Grauntie Carla's house that Worris did for MTM. He sat at a kitchen table that had clearly been handmade by someone who mostly knew what they were doing; the table had been sanded down and sealed, but the surface was still bumpy and uneven. The walls were dressed with plaid wallpaper and covered in pictures, paintings, taxidermied creatures both real and unreal, old bottles, and a Bobby Big Mouth Big Boi Big Bass that had been popular when his grandparents were alive. The rug underneath him was a t-shirt rug, but Ian never knew they could be made big enough to cover an entire room. There was a cup of coffee poured for him, in a cup that read "Eye miss you!"

Ian sighed. This place was practically crumbling under the weight of all the meaning.

"I am getting a little tired of the Symbolism Room," he muttered to himself.

"Have you considered that a plain, empty room is in and of itself also imbued with symbolism?"

Ian whipped around.

A cartoonishly tall man walked into the kitchen. He was dressed in all black- black jeans, black dress shirt, black belt with a small silver and turquoise buckle- save for the white priest's collar around his neck. He had hair just like Ian's, albeit curlier, bare feet, and-

"Antlers?" Ian asked. It was probably rude but he was getting really tired of the Dreams of Great Import so....

"A long story," the man said with a grin, sitting across from Ian at the table. He too had a mug, though his read "I'm horny!" He caught Ian looking at it and smiled wanly. "My wife loved puns, though to be honest this isn't a pun so much as a bad joke."

(past tense)

Ian took a drink of his coffee; it was aggressively mediocre. "Alright, can you tell me why I'm here, so we can resolve whatever emotional issue has come up again, and I can get back to my regularly scheduled nothingness?"

Ian's words didn't get the slightest rise out of the other man which was... concerning. He worked best when people were mad.

"Certainly. I'm here because you're scared."

"I'm scared of a lot of things, you're going to need to try harder than that."

The man paused to take a drink of his coffee, grimacing slightly at the taste, then leaned back in his chair. "I'm here because when you get into the groove for Mizar the Magnificent, everything feels right in a way you don't feel most other times. I'm here because sometimes you turn off your prosthetic because it feels... right to only have the one eye. I'm here because... despite everyone assuring you that Bill can't come back, that you can't bring him back, you know that's not true." Another drink. "It would just take you fifteen minutes, if that."

Ian felt the blood drain from his face, spread his hands on the table to keep them from shaking.

He hadn't told even Mira about the first two things.

"Congratulations," Ian managed to drawl, "you know my deepest, darkest fears. Have a fucking cookie." It took some effort but he pushed himself back from the table, got out of the chair. "I'm done with this little game, so snooze you later, hit the road Jack, GO-"

The antlered man held up a hand. It was wreathed in blue flame, like the fire from a room he tried not to think about, like Alcor's fire

(like MY fire)

like the fire he felt blazing in lieu of his implant.

"Who are you?" Ian asked.

"I'm Henry. Henry Pines."

"I- oh." Well that was all the wind out of his sails right there. "Okay, wasn't expecting you to actually just tell me that, I thought there would be at least another two pages of banter before we got there. Thanks?"

"Of course."

"Though that name means like, nothing to me."

"Ah. I should have k-"

Henry disappeared. Ian was still in the room.

A minute passed.

He drank his coffee, which was now getting cold and sludgy.

"Oh, sorry about that."

Ian jumped, again, and turned around to face Henry, who was still barefoot and all in black, but now had laundry hanging from his antlers. "Seriously, I know this narrative calls for jump scares, but can you try to stop that?"

"My apologies. I'm still being digested."

"Digested-" Ian paused.

The blue fire.

The antlers.

The girl told him about one night.

"You're... you're Paloma."

A flash of long dark hair and flowering antlers and back to the man in black. "Among many other names, but yes."

"So when you say digested..."

"Di-Alcor ate me."

"He what."

Henry very primly sniffed. "I can see how my phrasing can be taken as a reference to oral sex but could we please attend to the matter at hand?"

"Which is? I feel like we're wildly off track."

"Fair. More coffee?"

Ian held out his mug and Henry poured from a handmade pitcher that somehow managed to perfectly recreate the effect of googly eyes in clay.

They sat for a moment, and drank their coffee, which was slightly better this time.

Finally, Henry began. "M-Mira is pregnant."

"She is... Oh stars is this going to be a weird fatherhood talk? Because full disrespect, I've gotten one of these from Alcor and that was bad enough."

"What on God's green earth did Di- Alcor have to say to you about that?"

"I think he was trying to tell me I would do a good job, but he ended up damning me with faint praise for about fifteen minutes and then ghosted me so, a solid 3 out of 10, points for effort I guess."

Henry frowned. "I am a little concerned that my- that he hasn't learned any social graces or niceties in a thousand years, or has willfully forgotten them-"

"It's not that," and now Ian just felt... cold. Empty. "It's Bill. It's always about Bill, always fucking WILL BE-"

"Your hair is on fire," Henry calmly noted.

It didn't feel like it was. That probably wasn't a good sign.

"Every time I think we're done with him, done and gone, something comes up, and we have to have the same conversation over and over and OVER-"

Ian ran a hand through the flames on his head. "And the worse thing is, this time it's all me. I can't stop thinking about Bill. And the baby. And what that means. Maybe it means nothing. Or everything. And Bill, Bill is like an itch under my skin

(a fire)

and the more I itch it, the itchier I become, and I can't. Stop. Thinking. About Me. No. Shit, wait. Him. Do you See?"

The room was silent for a minute.

"I held a knife to her throat once," Ian finally managed to get out. "Infants, they're so, so much easier than adults. Their bodies are so soft and squishy." He looked at Henry, who had been patiently listening, hands folded, collar white as bone. "I have no idea why I'm telling you any of this."

"I have been told by my wife before that I have a 'secret telling kind of face.'"

"Sounds like something Mira would say."

Henry smiled wanly, but went on. "I'm here because I know what all of this feels like."

"I sincerely doubt that."

"No, honestly, I do. I thought you could use an ear and some advice-."

That old familiar feeling of squirrels eating his brain, of his heart stuttering in his chest, the great massive snarl barely contained in his skin up and out and "You have no idea what I need to keep inside of me."

Henry reached across the table, and laid a hand on Ian's arm and-

(ian was in a forest. it was dark and he tried to walk, tried to run, but he couldn't he was pushed down face first into the dirt from the feeling of anger, anger that at one point may have had a reason behind but that reason was long forgotten and now the anger was a self feeding, self regulating beast

ian was in a forest and he felt small, so horrifically small, so viscerally aware that there were things (people) that could hurt him, hurt him and even kill him, and nothing or no one in the forest would DO anything about it.

ian was in a forest and rising above him was a tree but haha not really that wasn't a tree that was a beast a monster a thing no it was

Death.)

-patted it gently.

Or at least, Henry would have if Ian was still sitting at the table, and not, say, with his back against the wall and his chair toppled to the side of the table.

"You're-"

"I was. He came from me. I birthed him."

Even shit scared, Ian must have given Henry a look, because Henry said "Metaphorically. I've never gotten the full details about how that works because to be perfectly honest, Alcor doesn't even know."

Henry got up, and walked around the table.

"Hand up?"

"You going to inflict yet another horrific mental scar on me?"

"No. And my apologies. I really need to be better about telling, not showing." Henry paused. "Or is it the other way around? I am a little embarrassed to admit that despite my occupation, I am not well versed in the mechanics of storytelling."

"It depends," Ian said, and let himself be hauled up.

"It's... hard," Henry began as they sat back at the table. "To have to control yourself. To feel like if you loosen that control for even one second, all hell will break loose. Especially when you have had all hell break loose before."

A dark look passed across Henry's face, and Ian remembered that there were limbs on those limbs in the forest.

A lot of them.

"I tried, for several years, to keep myself as tamped down as firmly as possible. And even before-" he waved a hand to indicate the antlers, the weird dreamscape symbolism bullshit room- "all of this, I kept fighting myself, every single day, to stay in control. Because control was all I had. Because control was the only thing that could save myself, could keep me from harming others."

"Okay, so what extremely traumatic life changing event happened to you that made you change your mind?"

"I won't bore you with the details, save to say I have never liked trophy hunters. But I realized in that time that my control.. it was brittle steel. It was weak from having to hold in so much, for so long, and then it shattered under stress."

"Okay, but most people don't have monsters tucked up in their souls."

"Fair but look. The point is, the power you have inside of you. It's not inherently good or bad- let me finish Ian Thomas Beale-"

(Ian's mouth audibly snapped shut)

"- it just is. Bill used his power for ill. Just because that power is there doesn't mean you have to use it. Or if you do, that it would be for ill."

"That's too much like temptation for me," Ian finally said, quietly.

"I know. I'm not saying you have to. Hell, I'm not even saying that this dream is going to magically cure you of your fears and control issues-"

"Because that would be too easy."

Henry nodded. "Oh of course. My apologies, I am all over the place today-"

"On account of being digested."

"Yes, lets go with that. No, I guess I just wanted to say, as trite as it sounds... try to relax."

"What if I hurt them?"

Henry rolled his eyes, which was a little incongruous with the impression Ian had gotten from him. "There is no universe where Ian Beale as he is now, would hurt Mira Ramachandran, or their baby. Honestly, you're more likely to hurt other people who hurt them, which probably is not great, but I am certainly not one to judge."

(so many limbs)

"I have literally been under tremendous stress my whole life, even before finding out about the past life murder triangle."

"Trust me, I know. But just... from one monster to another? It's okay to relax. It's okay to let that control loosen for a minute. The world won't end-"

"But it almost did. Twice. Maybe three times? It's hard for me to remember."

"But it didn't."

Ian... he must have looked as lost as he felt, because Henry smiled, sadly.

"I know you hear this from Mira, and from your friends, and even occasionally from Alcor, but I thought it would help to hear it from a stranger too."

Ian thought for a second.

"I think... it kind of did? Or maybe I'm just saying this to get out of this dream because I'm getting tired of talking. I don't know."

"You probably won't remember this dream up here-" Henry tapped his head. "-but you will here-" and he tapped his chest. "-and that's all that really matters to me."

"That's kind of corny."

"I was not a corny man when I was alive, let me indulge a little bit."

Henry leaned over, and gently kissed Ian on the forehead. "Keep her safe."

Ian realized, far too late, who he had been really, truly talking to this whole time, and it felt like his bowels were turning to water. But he managed to creak out an "Of course," before everything went dark.

---

The last few weeks had been hard for Mira, considering the massive amount of emotional labor she was doing for both her brother and her husband. Alcor was probably a lost cause at this point, but with Ian...

She sighed.

She understood, really, she did, but she was tired and-

"Hey."

She rolled over, to see Ian looking at her. "Hey back. You seem... relaxed?"

Ian smiled, and laid a hand on her stomach, which was still relatively flat.

"Yeah. I don't know I think... I think I've had my head up my ass for the last month, about all of this."

"You have."

"And I owe you an apology."

"Apology accepted if you can grab the peanut butter for me before I throw up."

"Of course."

Ian got up. He wasn't sure why it felt like the fire under his skin had died down, why it felt like he could handle his shit a little better today than even yesterday, but for once, he was not going to look this gift horse in the mouth.

[chans-room]

Possess Your Heart - 3

Pairing: TA! Namjoon x cam girl! reader (ot7 x reader overall)

Genre: yandere, smut, fluff, angst, thriller

Rating: Explicit smut so 18+ only! Minors DNI

Words: ~8k

Update: the tag yandere has been applied to the series as a whole; please proceed with caution as yandere themes will be in every chapter.

Warnings: allusions to stalking/creepy behavior from an unknown individual, pet names, choking, D/s themes, WKorea party inspired Namjoon (I will not apologize for this), self deprecation/self conscious thoughts from the reader, descriptions of an anxiety/panic attack, implied sex work (she’s still a cam girl), academic dishonesty lmao, hand kink, a singular accidental use of the word daddy, subspace, potentially dubious consent (reader is enthusiastic about her consent but is on the edge of subspace, so please read with caution), dirty talking, explicit sexual content, hair pulling, thigh riding, finger sucking, mentioned sexual experiences with other people, fingering, biting, overstimulation, multiple female orgasms, brief subdrop, aftercare, blowjob/deep throating, semi-threatening texts from an unknown party. if i missed any please let me know!

A/n: Again, I’m so sorry this has taken so long. Id love to hear your thoughts on this and if there are any warnings I’ve missed please let me know 🖤 beta read by @bibbykins and @masterkenobi so she should be clean

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To do list: Throw out bad food ✔️ Go through closet ✔️ Fix microwave clock ✔️ Make copy of new key ✔️ Check bathroom window lock ✔️ Throw out bodysuit Seokjin gave her ✔️

She couldn’t stop her foot from tapping as they got closer and closer to campus. “Kitten, we can just go home. You can miss another class, it’s okay,” Yoongi hummed, splaying one of his large hands over her thigh soothingly. 

“No, I need to go,” she sighed, pouting as he drove into campus. She wanted nothing more than to let Yoongi take her home, keep her safe in bed while he fucked the worries, fears, and all other thoughts out of her head. But she couldn’t. She needed to be stronger than that — she was stronger than that, “I don’t want to. But I need to.”

“If you’re sure… I’ll pick you up when you’re done.” Yoongi said, parking his car in front of the main building on campus, “I’ll be back at 4 and we can go get some rameyon and—”

“Yoon, it’s fine,” she smiled, trying to let go of her building anxiety as she leaned over the center console with a cheeky smile, “It’s Jimin’s birthday, and I promised him I’d go over after I’m done with class today. I’m making him dinner and we’re gonna watch this drama he hasn’t shut up about.”

Yoongi’s eyes narrowed, releasing a huff, “Fine, then I’ll come get you, kitten, it’s not a big deal—“ he began but her lips on his cheek stopped him short.

“I know, but I have a lot to do today, and if you come get me you’ll just get me into bed again and I won’t finish anything and then Min will be pissed,” she giggled before leaning away, but his fingers wrapping around her throat stopped her. His pupils were blown wide, holding her there for a moment before speaking. 

“Not so fast, kitten,” he tutted softly, “If that’s what you’re doing today, that’s fine. But I think I deserve a real kiss,” he smirked, pressing his lips to hers firmly. She melted against his touch, plush lips against hers forcing all of her thoughts to come to a standstill. She could only think of him. His tongue in her mouth, the scrape of his teeth against her lower lip, the smell of his cologne. 

She whined and pulled away from him with a pout, “Yoongs, I have to go.”

“I’m not stopping you, kitten,” he laughed.

“No, but you’re trying to seduce me,” she whined again.

“Is it working?” He questioned, pulling her back to him by the neck, his lips hovering over hers. “Because if it is, I need to call the shop and tell them I won’t be there before it opens and we’re running out of time.”

His words slowly permeated her brain, her eyes going wide and a frantic gasp tearing out of her, “Fuck! Yoongi I’m gonna be late!” She yelped, flinging herself out of his car, scrambling to grab her backpack, “I’ll call you!” she said hastily before blowing him a kiss, slamming his door shut, and running out across the lawn.

No one bothered to look at her as she slipped into the lecture hall. She normally wouldn’t have minded missing class, but she found herself actually liking Art History. 

It definitely had nothing to do with the 6 foot tall, impossibly gorgeous TA she got to stare at for 90 minutes 2 days a week. 

It was a silly crush really, like something out of a drama. Namjoon played the part of the swoon worthy, yet aloof and distant TA perfectly. He rarely spoke to anyone directly in or out of class, and was always so serious and stern when he was giving lectures or reminding everyone to turn in their essays on time unless they wanted their hard work to be put directly into the trash. But at the same time, the tight turtlenecks he favored stretched thin across his broad chest made her mind race with fantasies, and his strong arms made her daydream about being picked up and thrown around by him. She hadn’t spoken a word to him, and wasn’t planning on starting a conversation any time soon, and yet his comments on her essays bordered on praise — and he had once even written a whole paragraph responding to a point she’d made in her paper. It made her want to impress him, if that was even possible.

She had just begun to admire Namjoon’s outfit for the day — a tight black turtleneck with the sleeves pushed up his golden forearms, tucked into black slacks that were pulled taught around his muscular thighs, with a gold belt buckle that pulled her focus to the one place she shouldn’t stare — when a sharp whisper pulled her focus, “Good thing you’re here,” Jihyun smirked from across the aisle as she pulled out her laptop and notebook. “We’ve got a test next class. You missed the review.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes. Jihyun was one of Jungkook’s fan girls, an incredibly annoying one who thought that becoming friends with her would improve her chances at scoring a date with the ever popular streamer. If only Jihyun knew what she and Jungkook actually did together most of the time; the younger girl would burst into flames from jealousy alone if she knew.

“I mean… I could help you with the review…” Jihyun sighed, “But first I’d need you to talk to Jungkookie—“

“Miss Woo,” the professor snapped, making Jihyun sit up in her seat, “I know you think whatever you’re talking about is more important than my class, but I promise you, it is not. I don’t need you distracting other students, especially not ones who missed the review.” Jihyun sunk in her seat, face turning pink at the professors’ admonition. She wished she could feel some sort of satisfaction at hearing Woo Jiyhun get put in her place, but the professor’s obvious call out made her hands shake with anxiety.

That, plus Namjoon’s calculating stare from the front of the room made her want to disappear.

The rest of the class passed in a blur; she could barely retain a single sentence the professor said, all she could focus on was the feeling of the cold sweat gathering on the back of her neck. Yoongi was right — she shouldn’t have gone to class. All she could do was try to focus on not crying and keeping the nausea at bay —- a much harder feat than she anticipated with Jihyun glaring at her and the feeling of Namjoon’s eyes settled on her skin like acid.

Her goal was to run out of the lecture hall as fast as possible, but when the professor called for the end of class, it felt like she was moving through cement to try and pack her things away. The room was entirely empty by the time she’d finished. 

“Hey,” a soft voice coming from behind her made her jump, nearly dropping her laptop as she spun around.

She found none other than Namjoon, towering over her — the last person who she wanted to cry in front of.

“Oh, no, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he frowned, eyebrows knitting together in concern as he took a step closer. “I just wanted to ask you if everything was okay. You seemed really out of it all class—“ he explained, but stopped himself.

His gentle kindness made shame burn in her chest, her lip trembling as tears gathered in her eyes. She was such a mess that the TA who barely spoke to anyone pitied her — it made her feel sick. “I’m fine,” she lied, her voice watery as she fought the emotions welling up in her chest. He raised a skeptical eyebrow — the singular action effectively breaking her down. “I can’t fail this test. If I fail it, it’ll tank my class average, and then it’ll ruin my GPA, and I’ll never get my GPA back up to where I need it for my scholarship, and then I’ll have to take on more debt and—“ she hiccuped, tears now steadily streaming down her face. 

“Oh no, no, no, no, no. Okay, uh,” he stammered, eyebrows shooting up as he looked around, “Come on, we’re going to my office. No one will bother us there.” Without another word, he grabbed her backpack, slinging it over his shoulder, and plucked her laptop from her hands, tucking it under his arm before grabbing her hand with one of his. 

She didn’t have it in her to fight him, just let him pull her behind him, tears blurring her vision as he wove through endless hallways eventually coming up to an office, a placard engraved with the name Kim Namjoon. “How do you have an office if you’re a TA?” She sniffled as he released her hand, fishing in his pockets for a key.

“I’m the department TA, so I get an office,” he smiled, eyes turning into little crescent moons as his dimples appeared. She felt her heart flutter in her chest — he looked so beautiful when he smiled like that. The intimidating man who she had been pining after disappeared in an instant, replaced by a version of him she almost wouldn’t have recognized; but one she found herself liking even more appeared. “We have to be a little quiet though, I’m not supposed to have students in here,” he whispered softly, as he pushed the door open and ushered her inside. 

But the moment of reprieve from her stress faded as she remembered why she was there, sinking into the small, gray loveseat tucked into the corner, curling in on herself as the tears started to pour out of her again. Less than 30 seconds later, she felt the seat next to her dip. “I’m sorry, I promise I’ll get it together. I’m just a crybaby—“ she hiccuped, shoulders shaking from the force of her tears.

“Hey, you don’t need to do that,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to rest against his chest, “There’s nothing to be sorry for.” If it were any other situation, she was sure having her face in his chest would have been something out of a half-baked sexual fantasy that she would use later, but his gentle hand on her back and his soft voice in her ear made the edges of her vision soften. He was firm, yet clearly concerned about her; she had to fight the urge to slip into subspace. Something about him felt natural, and comforting in a way she didn’t feel around most people. 

She shook her head, pushing the vulnerability down; Yoongi was just a call away and he always knew how to take care of her when she was in that state. “I didn’t mean to make this your problem. I should have remembered to read the syllabus before skipping class. I’m just dumb and stressed and—“

“Hey, you’re not dumb, don’t talk about yourself like that,” he said firmly, making the haze creep up her spine again as he continued, “Even without the review, I’m sure you’d pass the exam — seeing as you’re one of the only people who actually get the class and the material, but if it makes you feel better I can take you through the review you missed,” Namjoon offered.

She couldn’t contain her gasp as she pulled back to look at him, eyes watering, “You would do that for me?”

“Of course I would,” Namjoon smiled, cupping her face in his hand, wiping away a tear. “I-I mean if anyone deserves to pass that class with a good grade it’s you. I always know which essays are yours, because they’re actually well thought out and have a strong point of view; even if you forget to put your name on them,” he smirked, making blood rush to her cheeks.

“I always kinda wondered how I got grades when I forget to put my name on half of what I turn in,” she admitted, feeling a little breathless at the idea that Namjoon perceived her so effortlessly, burying her face in his chest. “I figured it was maybe like a process of elimination or something—“

“You’d be surprised how few people turn in their essays, actually. Your writing just always stands out to me,” he explained, making her melt even more, “But if you really wanna do the review, I’ll help you. No need for any more tears, baby.”

The tone in his voice made her shift in her seat, feeling the sticky arousal pool in between her thighs, she knew the flimsy lace Yoongi had pulled out of her drawer for her was soaked through. She sighed, “God, Namjoon, I could kiss you,” rubbing her face with the sleeve of her sweater. Her brain caught up with her mouth a second too late; fear and shame rolled down her spine in a cold sweat as she pushed herself back into the arm of the loveseat, putting some distance between them.

But Namjoon simply followed her, maintaining their closeness as he crowded her into the corner of the couch. “Don’t get my hopes up, baby,” he winked, “I’m a weak man. You could take anything from me with those watery eyes of yours,” he cooed, wiping away another stray tear before relaxing back into his seat.

She couldn’t find words to respond, too transfixed by the way his legs spread open, his knee knocking into hers. It took everything she had to resist the urge to drop to her knees in front of him. The situation felt dangerous — not in the way where she felt unsafe; Namjoon made her feel entirely too safe. The sheer magnetism of him was amplified by him being so close, and she wasn’t sure how much more of his teasing or his praise she could take before she did something she would regret.

“You ready to study, baby?” he smirked. How casually he used the endearment made her heart flutter again and heat flooded her cheeks.  

“Y-yeah, totally ready for you,” she stuttered, shaking hands reaching for her bag, but his hand caught her wrist, pulling her toward him softly. His grip wasn’t rough, but firm, and if she had tried to pull herself out of it she knew he would let go immediately. But she didn’t want him to let go.

“Don’t worry about your things, baby,” he smiled, pulling her back to his side before he pulled out his laptop, “I have the whole thing on my computer. And I can email you whatever you need.”

“O-Oh, okay,” she nodded slowly. She didn’t know how the hell she was supposed to focus on the review when all she could think about was the sticky wetness pooling between her legs and how much she hoped it wasn’t dripping onto the couch beneath her. She didn’t want to explain to him that the incredibly kind thing he was doing for her was making her pussy so wet she could barely think straight.

“Okay so the exam starts with the Gothic, think Vasari, and spans to…” Namjoon began, but while he spoke his hand drifted to her thigh, and his deep voice turned into a dull hum as her brain tried to keep up with his words. But her focus was taken entirely by the warmth and weight of his massive palm on her bare leg, the look of his fingers spread out across her skin making her mouth water.

Namjoon’s hands were so different from what she was used to. Jungkook’s skillful, tattooed hands on her body always stoked the flames of lust, and she could spend days staring at Yoongi’s beautiful, diligent hands that were always adorned with clunky metal jewelry. But Namjoon’s hands were long and slender, with prominent veins and knobby knuckles. She briefly wondered how they would feel dragging along the walls of her cunt, and how the veins would look glistening with her cum. 

She felt her mouth water as she began to imagine what he looked like under that tight turtleneck, but especially under his slacks. She could picture his thick, golden thighs framing what she could only imagine would be a breathtaking cock. 

“Baby, don’t take this the wrong way, but I can’t focus with you looking at me like that,” Namjoon rasped, breaking through the haze of her daydream.

“Like what?” she frowned. The emotions firing through her brain were messy, jumbled signals she couldn’t figure out to slow down. The fear she’d been too obvious and offended him mixed with the shame of her obvious crush on Namjoon made her feel nauseous as she waited for him to reply.

He stared at her for a minute, then released a deep sigh, “Baby you’re not paying attention at all, I can see that lost look in your eyes,” he frowned, closing his laptop and turning toward her.

Another flare of shame bloomed in her chest; she was supposed to be paying attention for fucks sake, but instead she was fantasizing about a relative stranger. “I’m sorry, sir,” she mumbled softly.

The sharp inhale from Namjoon made her blood run cold, her thoughts coming to a standstill as she realized what she said. “God, you just,” he ground out, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath. But when his eyes opened, there was an intensity there she knew intimately. “Fuck it,” he snarled before leaning forward as he tugged her to him, pressing his lips against hers firmly.

The effect was instant — the tension in her shoulders melted away as her eyes fluttered closed, letting Namjoon’s presence wash over her mind and mute everything except him, him, him. She didn’t care that what they were doing was definitely against university policies, nor that she quite literally knew nothing about Namjoon aside from the fact he was her TA. She really didn’t care that he was manhandling her, gripping the backs of her knees and pulling her into his lap like a doll. All she cared about was the way he licked into her mouth so purposefully, as if he was savoring the taste of her, and the way his fingers dug into her hips and rooted her into his lap.

“Alright. I don’t want you to fail, and I need to feel you so this is what we’re going to do,” Namjoon said, pulling her away from his mouth with the hand he buried in her hair, “Because you’re just a desperate, needy little thing that can’t pay attention when I’m trying to help you study, I’m gonna give you the answers to the exam, and you’re going to be a good, quiet girl for me, okay? Nod if you understand.”

She nodded obediently, falling into the vastness of subspace she knew so well, her brain repeating softly he wants you, he wants to take care of you, he cares about you.

Namjoon hummed happily in response, pulling her back into another searing kiss. She didn’t even register how he moved her body so easily, pushing her until she was straddling his thigh, warm hands flipping up her skirt to expose her dripping cunt before pulling her away again. 

“Look at you baby, making a mess all for me,” Namjoon cooed, snapping the band of her thong against her hip. “Let me help you with that,” he said with a cruel smile before the sound of fabric tearing filled the room. “There you go, now you can leak all over my nice pants like a good little slut,” he smiled, pocketing the shreds of red lace.

The experimental flex of his leg made her gasp, eyes rolling back into her head as he did, “Fuck, Joon,” she shuttered, hands gripping his broad shoulders to maintain some tether to reality. 

“Now, baby, I know you have as much to lose from anyone finding out about this as I do, don’t you?” He asked softly. It would have felt condescending if not for the way he cupped her cheek so tenderly, and the flex of his thigh muscle against her core as he spoke. She could only nod dumbly in response, mouth falling open to pant wantonly at him, utterly transfixed by the raw dominance rolling off him. “Good. I know you wouldn't want us to get caught. So we’ll keep meeting up to study, okay? Just so no one gets any ideas. We can tell everyone you’re just very interested in art history, isn’t that right baby?”

She nodded again, barely grasping the words coming out of his mouth but she knew that agreeing wouldn’t stop him from bouncing his leg, which was the only thing she was concerned with at the moment. His black slacks had rubbed her clit in such a painfully delicious way that she could barely keep her eyes open.

“That’s a good girl,” he cooed, making her moan as her eyes fluttered shut. “Now, now, pretty girl, I told you to be quiet. We’re in my office, anyone could walk by and hear us. I didn’t want to have to do this, but you left me no choice,” he sighed, slipping two of his fingers into her mouth and bullying them into her throat. She choked for a second, trying to breathe through the customary panic that accompanied anything lodging itself so deeply into her throat, before swallowing around the digits thickly. She was rewarded with a pleased hum and Namjoon’s hand on her hip, guiding her in a shallow thrust that sent fireworks through her nerve-endings. “God, where the fuck did you learn that?” He groaned. 

She was pretty sure he didn’t need to know that she’d become a pro at deepthroating because Jungkook was always getting too excited and forcing his cock down her throat, which nearly resulted in disaster the first few times. He also definitely didn’t need to know that Jungkook often teased her about how he had personally throat trained her, something that never failed to make shame — mixed with a small ounce of pride — flare in her belly. Especially not with Jungkook now becoming more popular on campus thanks to his gaming, even if it meant he was gone more often. No, that would be a secret she took to her grave. No one ever needed to know all of that… well, aside from Jimin. But Jimin knew everything.

“Fuck, you’re just so pretty. Drooling on my fingers as you fuck yourself on my thigh in that pretty little skirt. You look so pretty all the time baby, but I think you’d be even prettier with your throat full of my cock,” he asked, making her whine loudly as she swallowed around his fingers again.

She could already see how big he was — she didn’t consider herself a size queen but she knew what she could take; Seokjin being one of the biggest she’d ever had. But this looked bigger, even hidden away behind the zipper of his slacks. The thought alone made her clit throb in desperation. She didn’t care how stupid it was: she wanted Namjoon, now.

“You want my cock that bad baby?” he laughed, making her nod and whine again around his fingers. “Alright, pretty girl, I’ll give you my cock. But first, I need to see you cum for me.” He gingerly pulled his fingers out of her throat, smirking at the strings of saliva that coated the long digits. “You’re such a pretty, messy girl aren’t you?”

She surged forward, pressing her lips to his again with a hum. The feeling of his lips on hers made her brain go fuzzy, enough so that she needed to pull back to stop from getting dizzy. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be Joonie,” she sighed, smiling hazily as she gripped his shoulders before beginning to rock back and forth. His hands flew to her hips, a little moan slipping past her lips as he pressed her dripping cunt harder into the hard muscle of his thigh.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he ground out through his teeth, “Now tell me what you want baby.”

“Please make me cum, Joonie,” she pleaded, feeling the familiar tightness in her muscles as she worked herself on his thigh. “Please,” she whispered, dropping her head onto his shoulder with a whine.

“Baby, you gotta be quiet,” Namjoon cooed, scattering kisses across her chest and neck, “If you don’t remember, I’m gonna have to make you cum with your face buried into these very nice couch cushions.”

“Please,” she panted, the image of him fucking her into the fabric, pools of mascara, tears, spit, and cum underneath her filtered through her mind, forcing a stifled high pitched moan out of her mouth. 

“As you wish,” Namjoon smirked, standing up from his spot on the couch, holding her against him firmly before setting her on her feet. She felt her cheeks heat as Namjoon towered over her, his thumb brushing her cheek softly before he whispered, “Face in those cushions, ass up baby,” he demanded.

The order shot through her like lightning — goosebumps rose on her skin and her knees wobbled as she took a cautious step toward the couch, her knees sinking into the soft material. The thought of how a relationship with someone as powerful and dominating as him could be sent another wave of arousal through her body as she did what he asked, her face pressed into the ribbed seat cushion. She could feel the sticky essence drip out of her lewdly and roll down her thigh as Namjoon flipped up her skirt.

“Fucking Christ, baby,” Namjoon rasped, dragging a finger through her folds with a hum. “All of this for me?”

“Please, Joon, just–” she pleaded, but choked on her words as two thick fingers slipped into her cunt, her eyes rolling back as he plunged them all the way in. She was right; the feeling of his knobby knuckles dragging through her walls made her pussy flutter and a ragged moan to tumble past her lips, muffled by the cushion. 

“So pretty for me baby,” Namjoon whispered before the sound of a sharp crack filled the room, white-hot pleasure pain following immediately as she whined. “You liked that, didn’t you? I could feel you tighten around my fingers when I smacked your ass.”

She tried to string together a half coherent response, but the feeling of Namjoon’s fingers withdrawing slowly and the gentle turn of his fingers inside her stole the thoughts out of her head. All she could think was, “More, please,” which she pleaded for through a warbly moan.

“You’re such a perfect little sub, aren’t you baby? You just want to be manhandled and fucked like the little doll you are, don’t you?” He asked, slamming his fingers back into her forcefully. All she could do was nod as tears welled in her eyes, the soft ah ah ah from the force of his thrusts lost into the padding beneath her face. “What a perfect little sub. Cum for me, baby, I want to feel you dripping down my wrist like the perfect girl I know you are,” he rasped in her ear. His teeth digging into the meat of her ass pushed her over the edge — she came apart with a breathless moan, eyes squeezed shut as the tears spilled down her cheeks, creating a wet patch in the gray material.

Namjoon’s pace was relentless, slipping in another finger as he continued to work her through her orgasm, his other hand gripping the flesh of her ass tightly as he kneaded into the skin, soft nips to the backs of her thighs and ass making her mouth hang open, drool joining the wetness spreading under her cheek.

Namjoon hummed contemplatively, slowing his thrusts slightly but not stopping before he spoke, “You’re not dripping down my wrist yet baby girl,” he tutted, “Gotta fix that, don’t we?” 

His fingers slipped out of her cunt with a wet schlick, then she was on her back, staring at the white tiled ceiling dizzily before Namjoon’s face came into focus. His gorgeous smile and soft eyes put her brain at ease, his clean hand tenderly cupping her cheek and wiping away her tears before the same three, thick fingers pushed into her weeping cunt.

“Fuck, Joon, ‘s a lot,” she mumbled as he angled his fingers up, hooking into the spot that made her see stars.

“I could see the bruises on your ass baby, I know you can take it,” he cooed, “And I wanna see your face when I make you cum again.”

She felt the second one building fast, and she knew it would hit her harder than the first — it always did. Her vision went blurry as he ground his fingertips into the spot, his free arm holding her down as she squirmed, trying to get away from the sensation but grinding herself into it all the same.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe with the force of it, the pleasure overwhelming her to the point of sobbing as her pussy spasmed around his fingers. She didn’t realize she was about to cum until it was happening — she had no ability to warn Namjoon, but his lips pressing into hers muffled the scream as she came.

She felt weightless for a moment, like all of her nerve endings had been burned away leaving nothing but the frayed, numbed ends. But then she felt Namjoon’s weight on top of her, his thumb tenderly brushing away the tears on her cheeks. The ringing in her ears muffled the sound of his voice for a second, but it quickly faded into Namjoon’s soft, sweet voice, “You did such a good job for me baby,” he smiled, pressing and open mouthed kiss to her chest, his tongue tracing over the bare skin for a second before he pulled back. “Come on, let’s get you put back together.”

“No, Joonie,” she pouted, feeling him slip his fingers out of her pussy. “Wanna feel you. Want your cock. I can take it, promise.”

“Not today baby, maybe next time,” he said firmly, “You just came real hard and I think we need to talk about some boundaries before we take that next step, and I don’t even have a condom with me.” 

She frowned, tears welling in her eyes as she struggled to take the rejection in stride with how far into subspace she was. He doesn’t want you. You’re disgusting. He thinks you’re a cheap slut who will give it to anyone who gives you a smile and does something nice. He’s not wrong; you are a slut. Look, you’re begging to fuck him and he just wanted to make sure you didn’t fail your exam—

“Hey, I said no more tears, baby,” Namjoon chastised softly, stopping the voice in her head in its tracks, “I want you, I do. But we need to not be in my office when I fuck you, and we need to have a discussion about consent and limits and all that before we go there. I really shouldn’t have even done this, because you were in a vulnerable state and I knew that, but fuck you called me sir, and like I said before, I am a weak man,” he explained firmly, “And I really like you.”

His words seeped into her brain slowly, her mind starting to process his words. He was right; they needed to talk before they did anything. He had a right to know about Yoongi and Jungkook — at least in the vaguest terms — and she needed him to know what she could and couldn’t give him in terms of a relationship. And as much as she didn’t want to, she would give up the potential with Namjoon if he didn’t accept her relationship with both of them. 

“Are you still with me, baby?” Namjoon asked softly, pulling her into his lap for the second time, tilting her head back to look into his eyes. She nodded and smiled gently, tucking herself into his frame with a sigh.

“‘M good,” she said, “Need a minute.”

“That’s okay, take all the time you need,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head. She let herself relax, pressed against his chest as she came out of the floaty, disconnected space her head was in. “Do you have other classes today?” He broke the silence with a whisper.

“No,” she hummed, “I was gonna get some studying in for the exam and wait for my best friend to get out of dance practice. He won’t be out until 3 though.”

“Well you can stay here and we can actually go over the exam if you want, I don’t have any other classes today either,” Namjoon said. The proposition made her heart flutter; he wasn’t tossing her out or making her feel bad for what had happened. He actually cared. 

She shuffled closer, intent on burying her face deeper into his shoulder for the time being when she felt it. His hard cock pressed against her still sensitive cunt made her flinch, but the thick warmth of it made her mouth water. Her eyes flickered up to look at him, nervous to see his reaction.

The golden expanse of his neck was exposed, his head thrown back and jaw clenched as he breathed through his nose. She felt his hand grip her thigh firmly, stopping her from moving an inch against him. She knew he was fighting it; fighting how much he wanted it. But she needed to make him snap.

“Joon, can I… can I see you at least? Or let me give you a hand?” She smiled innocently, met only by a deep grumble from inside Namjoon’s chest.

“Fuck baby,” he sighed as she rocked backward, feeling the length of it drag against her slit, “We shouldn’t.”

“But Joon,” she whined, littering kisses across the sliver of his exposed neck and across his cheeks, “Please?” His fingertips dug into her skin, making her shiver and smile, “I’m not feeling super subby anymore either. I know what I want Joonie, and it's your cock in my throat.”

She felt the breath catch in his chest, hands relaxing as he hummed, “Alright baby,” he nodded, releasing a shaky breath, “Since you begged me so pretty.”

Excitement slithered up her spine as she pushed herself off his lap, settling between his open knees. She watched closely as he undid his belt, fingers meticulous and nimble as he unbuttoned his slacks; the sound of his zipper slowly being undone consumed her senses. She couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the sight — Namjoon was criminally beautiful. The peak of his stomach as he pulled at the hem of his sweater out of the confines of his slacks made her hands tremble, and the expanse of sculpted, golden thighs made her brain swim with ideas as he pushed them down his legs, allowing them to pool on the floor beside her after he kicked them off, along with his shoes.

“Go on baby, take me out,” Namjoon breathed, flinching as her cold palms made contact with his skin. She frowned apologetically, kneading into the flesh gently as she leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his clothed cock, giggling when she felt it twitch. Namjoon’s hand threading into her hair made her eyes roll back as she continued to drop chaste kisses along his shaft, lapping at the wetness growing on the front of his underwear. 

“All this for me?” she smirked, peeling back the band of his underwear as she stared into his eyes, watching the realization flash across his eyes as she repeated his words. 

“Don’t tease me, brat,” Namjoon growled, tightening the grip on her hair, “Or the next time I see you I won’t be nearly as nice as I’ve been today.”

She couldn’t help but smirk as she inched the fabric of his underwear down, holding eye contact until his fluttered shut in bliss as her tongue darted out to meet the warm flesh. She hummed happily, watching his Adam's apple bob in his throat before she cautioned a look down at his cock.

Her mouth hung open in shock at what she saw — she was truly concerned he would hurt her if she tried to take him without some serious prep. She also didn’t know how he didn’t get lightheaded from the sheer amount of blood she figured it took to get him hard.

His cock was long, pretty, and thick, and the sight of it made her pussy throb with desire. She thought for a second about how well his cock would fit into the course requirements for Art Appreciation — his cock was up there with Jungkook, Yoongi, and Seokjin for prettiest she’d ever seen. She was mesmerized by it, ghosting her lips across the length of it before she took the tip between her lips. His hips twitched as she moaned softly, savoring the salty bead of pre cum as it hit her tongue.

“Shit, baby,” Namjoon choked out, shivering as she began to suck on the head of his cock softly, “God, your mouth is fucking incredible.”

She preened softly, the encouragement emboldening her to flatten her tongue as she inhaled sharply through her nose and pushed herself forward to take more of him into her throat. He was far thicker than what she was used to; she was positive there would be a definite bulge in her throat.

She let out a shaky breath through her nose, trying to gauge how much more of him there was to take when she felt his fingers intertwine with hers, “You don’t have to take it all, baby,” he said through his teeth, “I know its a lot and I don’t want you to hurt–”

She cut him off as she swallowed around his length, narrowing her eyes at him as he threw his head back again. His words made her heart melt a little, but the voice in the back of her head took it as a challenge — she needed to show him that she could do it, she wanted to do it. With another sharp inhale, she pushed herself forward, tears instantly breaking past her lashes and tumbling down her cheeks. The stretch made her breath hitch; pushing down the asphyxiating feeling was much more difficult with him than with anyone else because of his almost unbearable girth. But the next thing she knew, her nose was pressed against the soft skin of his pelvis. A flash of gratefulness flickered through her brain at the fact he was so well groomed, before her mind was taken over by the need to please him.

Her free hand gripped the wrist at the back of her head, giving it a squeeze in time with their conjoined hands before she relaxed her throat. “Baby,” he groaned, “Are you sure? I won’t last long with you like this anyway but–”

She cut him off with another shallow swallow, making the hand in her hair tighten. Then she felt his length dragging through her throat as he pulled her off him slightly. Her eyes fluttered shut as he set a slow, shallow pace, fucking himself deep into her throat so carefully. She was absolutely smitten with how gentle he chose to be despite such a depraved act — it made her heart flutter in her chest.

But the absolute filth that poured out of his mouth made her head spin. “Fuck, you’re so perfect, baby, my perfect little sub. Gonna fuck you so good next time, gonna make sure we’re in my room where I can hear you scream my name, baby, fuck,” he rasped, fighting to keep his voice low. “I’m gonna cum baby, where do you want it?” 

She simply squeezed his hand and relaxed her throat making him groan gutterally, his whole body twitching for a moment as he came.

She pulled off him with a soft pop, his softening cock resting against his thigh. His body went limp as she did, the hand in her hair unwinding tenderly as she rested her cheek against his knee. “I don’t know how I’m going to do anything the rest of the day baby,” Namjoon sighed, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

“I knew I could do it,” she preened, earning a laugh as he tucked himself away.

“You really showed me didn’t you?” he chuckled, “So good for me. I don’t even know what I would get done if you were mine, I’d just think about your pretty mouth on my cock all day.”

The word echoed in her mind — mine mine mine — and for a second, she felt a flash of fear shoot up her spine. She knew nothing about Namjoon, for all she knew he could be the person creeping on her OnlyFans and sending her threatening messages. Her hands stuttered to a stop as they moved across his thighs before flinching away from him, ripping her hand away.

Namjoon’s eyebrows furrowed in concern, following her as she pushed herself off her knees and onto her ass, scrambling away from his grasp. He froze and raised his hands in surrender, falling onto his knees in front of her. “Hey, did I do something wrong? I didn’t mean to offend you–”

“Does the name Soft Vixen mean anything to you?” she cut him off, backing herself into the desk.

Genuine confusion flashed in his eyes before he carefully replied, “...No? Should it?”

Relief settled in her brain, but an uneasiness returned. There was still someone sending her messages, and potentially breaking into her apartment doing god knows what. “S-sorry there’s just… stuff going on in my life right now and it’s all a little… scary.”

Namjoon frowned, scooting closer hesitantly, “You don’t have to tell me anything, but just know that I’m here for you, whenever and whatever you need.”

She nodded, stifling the panic in her chest as she scooted forward, letting him pull her into his arms.

“Sorry. I know you didn’t sign up for this when you brought me to your office–”

“Don’t worry about it, baby. Some tears aren’t going to run me off that easily,” he whispered, resting his chin on the top of her head. She felt the familiar flutter of warmth in her chest when she felt his arms tighten.

It was hard for her to believe someone would care about her so effortlessly, especially when so many people in her life had made it abundantly clear she never mattered to them; not to her family, to her former friends, not even to her former fiancé. But in 3 years, she had managed to find people who seemed to genuinely care about her. She figured that even if she was wrong about them in the long run, she wouldn’t deny herself the opportunity to accept their affection.

Her phone vibrating in her bag next to her pulled her focus; she gave Namjoon a sheepish smile before answering, Jimin’s excited voice filtering through her speaker.

“Where are you, angel? It’s my birthday, I’m out of practice early, and we have so much wine to drink tonight,” he said with a laugh.

“I’m just finishing up in the main lecture hall,” she rolled her eyes, Namjoon’s arms loosening around her as she began to shuffle in her seat, “I’ll meet you at the library in like 10 minutes and then we can start on our night of drinking and absolutely insane drama you want me to watch so bad it’s the only thing you requested for your birthday.” 

“Damn right,” Jimin laughed proudly, making her heart squeeze in her chest. She loved Jimin’s laugh, it always made her feel like her problems were so small and so distant, “Now get your cute ass over to the library so we can start my birthday extravaganza.”

She giggled, nodding to herself as Namjoon helped her up, “Alright Min, I’m on my way,” she said, earning an indignant huff in response.

“Hurry up, angel, I am no-so-patiently waiting,” he snarked before the line went dead. She smiled, rolling her eyes at his impatience before giving Namjoon another soft smile.

“Sorry to run out like this, but he will hunt me down if I don’t show up in the next 10 minutes,” she grimaced, “He has my location on his phone for when we go out and he absolutely has used it to find me in the mall before when I wasn’t answering his texts.”

Namjoon smiled, cupping her cheek gently, “Don’t worry about me, baby, it’s your friend’s birthday. May I?” he asked, gesturing to her phone. She nodded, making him smile as he plucked the phone out of her hand, typing something quickly before putting it back in her hand. “Now you have my number, you can text me or call me any time.” He stared at her for a moment before he hummed contemplatively and peeled off his turtleneck.

Her mouth went dry at the expanse of his chest; it was firm and built, a truly marvelous sight to behold. Her mind flickered through the catalogs of art she’d studied, all the depictions of the naked male form that had been venerated by scholars as perfection, and found all of them paled in comparison to him; he was absolutely statuesque.

“Here, take my sweater. I’ve got another in my bag. You can clean yourself up with it, if you want,” Namjoon said with a shy smile. She found it endearing how easily he fluctuated between the shy, nerdy version of himself and the dominating, critical one. 

“Thanks, Joonie,” she smiled, her face heating up at the tenderness of his consideration, “But what are you gonna wear? I don’t think you can just walk across campus like this–”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ve got another outfit in my bag,” he shrugged, “I work out on campus anyway, no one will think anything of it. It’s the least I could do considering I ripped your thong. Which I can and will replace by the way.”

She nodded, taking the sweater from his outstretched hand with an innocent smile and a shrug, “No need, I have many more where that came from,” she winked. Namjoon’s eyes went wide at her words, tucking his chin into his chest.

She made quick work of cleaning herself up as Namjoon changed into his work-out attire, apologizing as she did and promising to bring the sweater back when she saw him next before shoving it in her bag. Namjoon walked her out of the building, carefully leading her back through the maze of empty halls, refusing to back down when she assured him she could find her way alone. 

They made it to the library as their 10 minutes were up, Namjoon giving her a smile and a wave as he split off from her, heading toward the gym. He was clear about not wanting her friend to see him, but she knew she was about to spill everything to Jimin anyway. But Namjoon didn't need to know that.

She felt her phone buzz, rolling her eyes at Jimin’s meticulous time management skills when she saw him wave at her from one of the tables. Her eyes narrowed in confusion as she checked the notification.

From Yoongs: kitten, i have your new key, i’ll leave it in your mailbox. also, you should really check your bathroom window. it was unlocked. To Yoongs: my bathroom window unlocks? From Yoongs: yes, kitten, it does. be more careful, yeah? for me?

She shivered, fear creeping up her spine as her phone chimed again. She didn’t want to look, she fought the urge to just ignore it without looking, but morbid curiosity got the better of her.

From Unknown: You’ll see in time that we’re meant for each other. We always have been.

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[joka13]

FANFICTION: Weasley Twins x Reader (Slytherin Girl) - Part 4

WARNINGS: unconsented kissing

"It's not that big of a deal," Maddy says as you walk with her down the hall to your next class.

"Oh, you're just saying that to make me feel better about it," you sigh. Detention, and on the first day of school! You can hardly believe it.

"Yes, I am," Maddy admits with a blunt laugh. "But at least you'll be having it with the twins, right?"

"I'm not so sure that's a good thing..." you mutter under your breath as Maddy is now distracted by another friend.

You're beginning to think that the Weasley twins are (surprise, surprise) a bad influence. Sure, you've had your share of naughty days before — you are a Slytherin after all —, but they were only ever for your own sake. And you've never been caught. That's the important thing. Today you took a risk trying to help someone other than yourself, and you got caught. At the time, breaking the rules with Fred and George felt simply natural, but now you can't remember what had possessed you to do it in the first place. You rack your brain for a reason. It's not like you know the twins personally. This morning's incident was your first real interaction with them. Still, some part of you wonders if maybe you did it for the twins rather than just with them. But in what way had you hoped it would benefit you? You aren't sure. Perhaps you truly are just desperate for some excitement in your life...

You've arrived at your next class: Divination with Professor Trelawny. You and Maddy sit yourselves down at a table in the back.

Amongst the students filing into the classroom after you is Malfoy. You grow nervous as he scans the room casually, and his eyes light up when they land on you. He smirks and starts toward you.

Your heartbeat quickens with anxiety. You silently pray with all your might that the open table next to yours gets taken before he can reach it. Fortunately, a couple of Hufflepuffs claim it, and you thank the heavens as Malfoy stops to turn and walk away with a disappointed look on his face.

You are able to relax for the rest of the class. Divination is the one subject that you don't fully understand — though you don't think most people truly can, even Trelawny if you're being honest —, so you usually enjoy it more than others. There's still more for you to learn, still some intriging mystery to it. Time flies by, and the class is over all too soon.

You and Maddy have lunch together. You munch on a sandwich and read over The Daily Prophet, along with some of The Quibbler. Not to your surprise, most of the gossip is still about last year's eventful Triwizard Tournament. You'd been lucky enough to witness the contest by simply showing up for school. The tournament by itself is worthy of discussing in the paper, but this time no one cares about who won or lost. You aren't exactly sure who or what you should believe, but many claim that He-Who-Must- Not-Be-Named made an appearance towards the end of the contest.

"Can you believe this rubbish?" Maddy scoffs, slapping her own copy of The Daily Prophet on the table. "The Ministry is doing a fine job of making a fool out of themselves. They seem so desperate against Dumbledore."

"Do you believe what Professor Dumbledore is saying?" you ask.

"I believe that You-Know-Who is back..." Maddy glances down at her wrist watch. "We had better get going. Class will start in about five minutes."

You gather your things together, and you and Maddy part ways outside the Great Hall's entrance. You head for Professor Snape's classroom.

You've just descended the stairs when Malfoy seems to appear out of thin air. He blocks your path, leaning against the brick wall coolly.

"Hi, y/n."

"Malfoy," you reply, nodding once, then try to move around him, but he moves with you.

"Please, call me Draco," he says. He gives you a smile that would seem friendly on anyone else, but you know he's up to something.

"Would you mind getting out of my way? Class will be starting soon."

"Potions I presume?" Malfoy turns his head to look back at Snape's door, which is about three yards down the hall. "Me too. Don't worry about it. Snape won't care if we're a bit tardy, him being head of Slytherin and all." He takes a step toward you. You grow fidgety as you realize that you and Malfoy are the only people left in the long, dark hallway.

"Well, I care if I'm tardy. So would you please—"

In one quick movement, Malfoy suddenly has you cornered, backed up against the wall with his hands on either side of you. You are trapped in front of him.

"I've missed you, y/n," Malfoy says quietly. Your heartbeat quickens. Your face is only mere inches from his. He looks down at your mouth.

"You don't even know m—!" Malfoy's kiss cuts you off.

You try to push him away, but he doesn't budge. You squirm and squirm to escape his grasp, but he holds you in place. You want to scream, but he kisses you again and again, and you soon find yourself giving up. You don't kiss him back, but you don't fight him either as he makes out with your unwilling lips. You hope that if you don't respond that he will eventually stop.

But he doesn't stop, so you pretend to enjoy it and kiss him back. Malfoy pulls you away from the wall and closer to him when you wrap your arms around his neck, his kisses growing in intensity. He moans softly as you weave your fingers through his pretty, blonde hair. You grasp a handful of it, and then you yank down as hard as you can.

Malfoy cries out in pain and backs away from you. You make a dash for Snape's classroom. Snape himself emerges from behind the door before you even reach for the knob.

"I heard a ruckus," Snape grumbles. A now greatly disheveled Malfoy comes trotting up behind you.

"She assaulted me, sir!" he says, pointing an accusing finger at you with one hand and massaging his head exaggeratedly with the other.

"No, he assaulted me!" You're practically shaking with furry. "So I hurt him in self defense!"

Professor Snape pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs heavily, as if to say that Slytherin house has never suffered greater embarrassment. "Come see me after class, Malfoy. Y/l/n, take it to the Headmaster." And with that, Malfoy follows Snape into the classroom and you are left alone out in the hall.

"I will, thank you very much," you huff, then start for Dumbledore's office.