#if both are sitting and one swings their legs over I feel that might be less mechanically efficient and might wipe some off the back

[randomgurustuffs]

what would you do if your lady friend asked for some help applying sunscreen to her legs while you two were fishing? :3

If she was fine with it, I'd be fine with it and would comply. I'd do my best to provide an even coat in a reasonable amount of time. After all, I wouldn't want my gal getting sunburned and we gotta get to fishin'. Wonder what SPF she'd go for?

[nanaslutt]

Giving bf Takuma a massage (gone wild)

ʚ cont: fem reader, dirty talk, first time, prostate massage, fingering, masturbation, switch!reader & switch!takuma

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ ࿔

"You're the love of my life you know that right?" Takuma spoke muffled as he lay on his bed on his stomach, shirtless and waiting. You couldn't help but smile at him, it was just a massage, but Ino couldn't help but praise you for even the smallest things you did. "I love you too baby." You smiled down at him, swinging your leg over his body as you sat down on the back of his thighs, running a single finger from the top of his spine to the dimple in the middle of his back.

You watched his back arch under the small movement, goosebumps rising on his skin. "I'm gonna fall asleep in two seconds if you keep touching me like that, then I won't even be able to enjoy it." You shook your head as you leaned over him and grabbed the massage oil from the nightstand, popping the cap off as you spoke, "That's the point of a massage, Takuma." You turned the bottle upside down and hovered it over his back, speaking again before he could respond, "Might be a little cold."

You squeezed the bottle, watching the clear liquid drip onto his toned back. A hiss fell from between his teeth as he tensed his body before relaxing. "Cold." He said, his fingers uncurling from the fist he balled them in. " Told you, now be quiet." Takuma made a sound of understanding just as you placed your fingers in the oil that pooled on his back, rubbing it in small circles before you added your other hand.

His skin was so hot, that the oil warmed to him immediately. You wet both your hands in the oil and started rubbing it over the expanse of his back with gentle pressure, a soft sigh slipping between Ino's lips as you caressed his body. "Love yer hands," He slurred, his cheek squished against the pillow as he lay with his head facing the side.

"I barely even started." You said just as you dragged your hands to the top of his back and pressed down under his shoulder blades, working out the muscles there first. "I know, love when you touch me." He responded, shifting a bit when you started the massage, making the towel you were sitting on that covered his butt and lower thighs pull down a bit.

The towel was Ino's idea, of course, the man insisting he strip down to nothing to be as authentic as possible, always with the dramatics. Ino groaned shamelessly when you put some of your weight on your knees and kneaded your hands into his back with your body weight. "Too much?" You asked, not letting up the pressure until he told you otherwise. "No, don't stop. Feels good." He almost slurred, his eyes shut in bliss. His body was relaxing more and more by the second.

You smiled a bit at that, he was always so vocal with his thoughts. He would make a horrible prisoner, you thought, spilling all the secrets he knew without thinking twice. You caressed his sides, sliding your hands down until you reached his waist before you pressed them against his lower back, making small circles where the hem of his boxers usually sat. Ino's back arched when you pressed there, a sharp intake of breath heard through his nose.

You knew there was nothing inherently sexual about this, but your boyfriend was making the same noises he usually made in bed and his body was bending and responding to your touch alone, it was hard to not let your thoughts wander. "Feel good right here?" You asked, adding more pressure to the bottom of his spine. Ino just nodded, his eyebrows furrowing together in pure bliss. His body was so slack under you.

You massaged his body until he was mush under your fingers, spending extra time on his shoulders because the pleasured noises were too good to miss. You had one trick up your sleeve you knew was gonna put him to sleep fully. Curling your fingers, you started at the top of his shoulders before slowly caressing his skin with your nails, gently, barely even touching him. The response was immediate, Ino's whole body shook when he realized what you were doing, making the towel you were sitting on move a bit, exposing a few inches of his smooth booty.

It would be so easy to take a bite right now. Tempting as it was, it would ruin all your work on making him so relaxed and pliant, so you averted your eyes, but made no move to pull up the towel. The eye candy was welcomed. "Spiderssss," Ino sighed when you started gently tickling your nails down his back, the goosebumps making an appearance again. "Knew you would love this." You giggled, watching the corner of his mouth curl into a satisfied smile.

You scratched your nails gently down the expanse of his back, over his sides, up back, and over his shoulders before descending lower down his back. At this point, he was so unresponsive you were sure he had fallen asleep. You continued drawing shapes and patterns on his back with your dull nails as you let your eyes fall back down to his ass, the little bit that wasn't covered by the towel.

Sliding your hands down, you pulled the towel back on the other side, the top of his ass exposed, and still, there was no response from Takuma. A smile forced its way onto your face as you started tickling your nails on his ass, the same as you did with his back. "Why does that feel so good?" Ino slurred, making you laugh at how sleepy he sounded. You were sure he was asleep, but you were glad he had no intentions of putting an end to your fun.

With his pleased response, you pulled the towel down completely, resting it where your thighs met the bottom of his ass. "My butt is cold now," Ino complained. "Not for long." You responded, picking up the oil and dripping some onto his skin, watching it slide down the outside of his ass. Ino tensed, the sight making you stifle your laugh. "You're cruel for not giving me a warning," Ino said, a little more coherently now that the shock of the cold oil had startled him.

"You're fiiine, just wait till I get my hands on your ass." You teased, rubbing your hands together and smirking at him as he cracked his eye open and peered down at you. "You sound so mischievous when you talk about my ass, baby." He closed his eyes and smiled just as you placed your hands on him, massaging the surprisingly plump backside of him. How he grew an ass like this you had no idea, but you were endlessly envious.

You massaged him in circles, working out the nonexistent knots, enjoying yourself with this most unnecessary massage. It was hard to not focus on what was between his ass each time you massaged your hands outwards, but you forced yourself to watch the muscles in his back ripple instead. You dragged your hands back up his body, his skin endlessly hot under your fingertips. "Shit," Ino breathed when you dug the heels of your hands into his back as you slid them up and down.

You were more confident bringing your hands back down to his ass now that you've crossed that line. Not that it was a line you were worried about crossing in the first place. Ino made it abundantly clear that his body belonged to you. You wondered if that sentiment extended to the little hole between his legs you always wanted to say hello to.

You slid your hands over his ass and rubbed your thumbs into the dimples of his lower back, bending your body over him as he arched and groaned at the contact. He nuzzled you with the side of his head as you placed a tender kiss against his oily skin, another on his neck, and finished with his cheek before you pulled back and continued pressing into his skin. "Love you so fucking much." Takuma groaned, making your heart swell in your chest.

"Love you too," You responded, placing your hands back on his butt. Scooting down his thighs you leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of his ass, making him laugh quietly. "Love this peach, too." You smiled, sliding back up his thighs. "Yeah?" He teased, wiggling his ass up at you. If only he knew how much he was really tempting you right now, he would clench his cheeks and run for the hills. "Mhm," You responded, bringing your thumbs closer to the inside of his ass purposefully before you massaged him in circles.

Ino went quiet again, his breathing steady, the occasional breath or light, barely there groan falling from between his lips. You spread him open just a bit more than before, exposing his hole. "Feels dangerous when you do that," Ino said, his words soft. You were glad your center was hovering between his legs, or he would feel just how much you were twitching for him. "What? This?" You teased, spreading him open more boldly now that he pointed it out.

Ino shifted his body under you, his ass tensing a bit before he relaxed. "Yeah, I know you're getting an eyeful right now." He smiled, his eyes still shut. "It's not the worst view in the world." You shrugged, bringing your thumbs dangerously close to his hole as you spread him open. Ino hissed at that, his ass clenching under your hands. "Baby…" He whispered, almost shyly.

You had to close your eyes and take a deep breath before you responded, already knowing the direction you wnated to take this. "Hm? What is it, tamuka?" You teased, feigning innocence as you slid one of your hands up his back, the thumb of your other hand finally making contact with his hole. You barely applied any pressure, but you still felt how he tightened at the contact. You swallowed hard, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth as you felt his breathing increase, your hand moving up and down faster against his back.

"Feels weird, babe." He responded. You slowly rubbed your thumb in circles against his hole, your other hand massaging his mid-back, trying to distract him a bit. "Do you want me to stop?" You asked, silently praying to every god that would listen that he wouldn't ask you to stop. Takuma was silent for a while, soaking in your touch before he laughed, "Should've known you were up to something when you started touching my ass." You laughed in return, "It's hard to resist."

"Got me all relaxed so you could stick a finger in my butt," You smiled at that, dragging your other hand back down his body and grabbing the oil. "I don't hear you telling me to stop," You countered, pulling his ass cheek to the side as you popped the cap and let some of the oil drizzle on top of your thumb that was pressed against his hole. "I'm nervous, I'll tell you that," Takuma responded. The two of you haven't talked much about anal play on his end, never going farther than jokes about it.

"We can try it out, and if you hate it I'll stop immediately." You assured him, rubbing the new oil against his ass. You listened to him release a shaky breath as he shifted his hips against the bed. Likely in what he thought was a subtle shifting motion, but you knew he was trying to relieve his undoubtedly hard dick that was pressed between his stomach and the bed. The wind blowing too strongly made this man's dick hard.

"Fuck…" Ino breathed, contemplating while you continued to massage his cheek with one hand, circling his rub with the other. You knew he needed a little guidance, so you decided to start things off and he knew to speak up if he didn't want this. "Spread your legs a little wider," You instructed, smiling when he did so immediately. "I feel like a virgin," Ino joked, the side of his face that was visible to you practically glowing with how red he was.

"I mean, you are when it comes to this spot," You responded, pushing harder on the puckered hole and meeting resistance. Ino arched his back, his lip twitching in what looked like uncertainly. "Is this how you felt?" He asked. Ino always got talkative when he was nervous, and you would gladly distract him and talk him through it if that's what he needed right now.

"I mean, a little. It wasn't bad when you found my sweet spot." You said, reaching down with your other thumb and forcing his hole to open a bit for you. "S-shit," He cursed when you pressed the tip of your thumb in, "I h-have one of those back here, don't I?" Takuma questioned. "Uh-huh, you men were born for a little booty fingering," You joked, hoping your light-hearted tone would help him through the hardest of this.

He laughed a bit before grinding his hips into the comforter again. "My dick fucking huuurts," He whined, his breath coming out choppy, and panted as you pressed your thumb deeper, feeling how tight he was around you. "Did someone say you couldn't touch yourself orr?" You teased, looking around mockingly. Ino scoffed, his hole relaxing a bit, giving you a good opportunity to fully put your thumb inside him.

"It's kinda h-hard when I move I can really feel your finger in there." You smiled before pulling out fully, laughing when his whole body relaxed with the lack of intrusion. "You're supposed to feel it. Just wait till I find your prostate, you'll really wanna feel that." You knew the general area in which it was supposed to be, you just really wished you would be able to find it or this experience would be a flop.

Ino took the reprieve of your finger in his ass to thrust his hips into the mattress a few times, groans and sighs slipping from his lips as you worked on oiling up your fingers. "You look good like that," You praised, watching him tense again and stop his humping when you placed your middle finger against his hole and pressed in hard, his rim opening up more easily. "Used to fuck my pillow before you came a-around, fuck, remember why I liked it so much," Ino tried to joke while his breaths came heavier.

"Breathe, baby, I can't go deep if you're so tense," You cooed, leaning over him and pressing a kiss to the middle of his back as you thrust your finger inside him. "Shiiiit, shit, shit, fuck I really feel it baby," Takuma babbled, squeezing around your finger. "You okay?" You asked, keeping your finger still as you peppered his skin with more kisses.

"Yeah, fuck," He laughed, "Feels so fucking weird." You smiled, glad he wasn't hating this so far. "Good, just need to find that little spot now…" You thought out loud, circling your finger downwards where you thought it was supposed to be. Takuma let out a loud gasp, his hips thrusting forward on their own. Okay, well. You found it a lot sooner than you thought. Silently giving yourself a fistbumb you sat up so you could watch his face and body respond.

"Was that it?" You asked, making sure he wasn't in pain. "T-think so, shit, what the hell was that? Never felt anything like that." He sighed, his breaths now coming in quick pants. "Your prostate, baby." You said just as you curled it again, thrusting forward a bit as you did. "Oh holy fuuck," Ino groaned, his body tensing as he gripped the sheet in his hand, his knuckles turning white.

You pulled your finger back before pushing it back in, curling at the same time. The moan Ino let out was unrestrained and made you throb between the legs. "Feel good?" Ino just nodded his head as you curled it again, the muscle in his jaw clenching and unclenching as you fingered him. You reached over with your free hand and laced your fingers with his, which he immediately laced back, holding onto you for dear life.

You kissed the back of his hand before sitting up and curling your finger over and over again, not going too fast but setting a good pace. Each time you moved, a moan was forced from his throat, no matter how much he wanted to keep it down. "S-slower please," You listened as soon as he got the words out, noticing his body relax when you thrust and curled a bit slower. "That's fucking intense," Ino sighed, his shoulders heaving with his pants.

"Yeah? What's it feel like?" You asked curiously, pulling your finger almost all the way out before pressing it back in, making him whine. "Feels like your… inside my dick, but also my stomach, like… a fire." His description was so bad it made you laugh out loud. "Hey, you asked." He shrugged. "You think you can cum like this?" You asked, pressing against his prostate and keeping your finger there, rubbing it in circles. Ino gripped your hand tightly, muffled groans getting blocked by his teeth as he was forced to take the pleasure you gave him.

"W-ith out my d-dick?" He forced out, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as his back arched. "Yeah," You responded, picking up the pace a bit as you began thrusting again. "D-don't know, fuck fuck, m-maybe," You were about to encourage him when you angled your finger down more and pressed harder, keeping the pace but adding more pressure. "Oh fuck!" Ino practically yelled, his body trying to curl in on itself. "Oh fuck, do that again," He begged, shaking your hand, whether he knew he was doing it or not you didn't know.

You obeyed right away, licking your lips as you aimed your finger for that sweet spot deep in his ass and abused it. "Yes- oh- my god- yesyesyes," Ino groaned from between his teeth, you couldn't speak, you were so turned on you couldn't focus on anything but him and his reactions. Ino stated thrusting his hips against the mattress, matching the pace of your fingers while thrusting himself back on your finger at the same time. "Baby, babybaby," He was babbling, his words barely coherent.

"I'm right here Takuma, I got you, do what feels good I got you," You managed to get out through the intense brain fog. His pleasure seemed to go from 0-100 in just a few moments, and you were eating it up. Ino reached behind him with his other hand and gripped your wrist tightly, his other hand unlocking it from your own fingers as he leaned on his side and reached for his cock--his cock that looked so red and so wet it looked painful. It looked like he already came.

"Keep going, close," He grit out, furiously jerking himself off as you quickly adjust to the new angle of him on his side, thrusting your finger in his tightening hole. His abs and leg muscles were spasming and jerking with your every movement. His eyebrows rose up as he nodded his head, his jaw falling open, drool spilling from the side of his lips. "Harder, h-harder, cumming im, Im- fuck!" Takuma barely got his words out before his body was curling in on itself as cum flooded over his fingers, making a mess of his hand and the sheets next to him.

You continued working his ass, forcing out every last drop of cum from his balls. You didn't stop moving your finger until he gripped your wrist will his full strength, mumbling something about it being too much. You slowly pulled out, the movement making him hiss, his body tensing before he went lax like a pile of jello. You wiped your hand on the bed next to you before pushing his shoulder down so he was lying on his back. His eyes were still screwed shut, his hand gripping the base of his dick hard even as it started to soften.

Stradling his hips you held his face in your hands, kissing his brow and eyelids and he fought to catch his breath. "Holy fuck," he cursed, finally releasing his dick and letting his hand fall aside, his eyes opening. His gaze looked unfocused as he stared up at you like you hung the stars in the sky. "Holy fuck is right, that was so hot," You smiled, caressing his cheek as he leaned into it like a cat. "Uh, huh, thought I was gonna die with how hard I came," He teased, though it did look like a big one.

"You gonna let me finger ur ass now?" Ino wiggled his eyebrows at you, his teasing demeanor coming back fast. "Hell no, nice try though. If I ever grow a prostate, I'll let you know." Ino pouted dramatically, sitting up to bury his head in the crook of your neck. "Fine… but give me a couple of minutes to recover and I'll eat your pussy real good," His casual dirty words made you clench around nothing as you nodded, cradling his head against you. "Sounds good to me."

[cloudzoro]

Toy | Portgas D. Ace ♡

(ft Vinsmoke Sanji)

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pairings: ace x fem!reader x sanji

genre: smut (minors dni)

wc: 1.7k words (it's a short one today!)

cw: soft!dom ace, jealous ace, big!dick ace, bisexual sanji, sub!sanji, mmf threesome (focused on reader), hella dirty talk from ace, voyeurism, cunnilingus, cum eating, semi-public sex, sanji is super into you but also has a tiny crush on ace, pathetic loser sanji <3

masterlist here

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You and your boyfriend, Ace, are staying aboard his little brothers ship and the cook takes a liking to you. Ace is initially jealous but when he catches Sanji eavesdropping on the two of you, he issues a punishment that has him realising how much fun he can have with the cook.

this is so self indulgent i'm sorry 😭

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You and Ace have been staying aboard the Merry for a few days. The two of you have been welcomed by your boyfriend's brother and his crew. Sanji, in Ace's opinion, has been hanging around you too much. Sanji has been following you around like a lost puppy. It doesn't bother Ace that all the attention is on you. He is always more than ready to show you off. His problem is that he hasn't gotten to have any alone time with you since boarding the sunny.

On a quiet morning, he has you cornered out on the deck. It's so early that everyone's still in bed. Ace offered to do the night watch, and you were happy to accompany him.

“Missed this pretty pussy”, he says, fingers slipping below the waistband of your underwear and pressing against your clit.

“You're so dramatic; it's only been a few days”, you laugh, pulling him into a kiss.

“Baby, you know you're just as desperate for my cock”, he says, biting your bottom lip. You don't respond, instead grabbing his belt and undoing it. He laughs as you fuss with the button on his shorts. Sex with Ace is always lighthearted, and he makes you feel so comfortable. Once you get his shorts unbuttoned, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him back into a kiss. He kisses back roughly. “let me make you cum with my fingers, and then when the cook comes out to take over, I'll take you to our room and fuck you properly.”

You hear a footstep behind Ace but get distracted by his fingers, so you don't mention it. His fingers tease your whole, and you whine.

“Just put them in, please, Ace. Don't tease me.”

“I'm sorry, baby”, he apologises, pushing two fingers inside you. “You're just so cute I can't help it”, he coos, speeding up his fingers. Your hips instinctively rock against his hand as you get closer to your orgasm. His lips trail down your neck, and your hand threads through his hair, making him moan. Your orgasm hits you, and your legs shake slightly as you struggle to stay on your feet. Ace holds you up as you whine in his ear. He pulls his fingers from your cunt and brings them up to his lips. You watch, dazed, as he sucks his fingers clean. You hear another noise that sounds like footsteps, and this time, it catches Ace's attention, too. Ace walks over to the door to the deck and swings it open, revealing Sanji looking as guilty as you've ever seen him. Sanji's face flushes red at having been caught listening to you with his hand shoved down his trousers. Ace looks back at you with a smile, knowing both of your sexual tastes. This is a perfect chance to explore something you've been thinking about. Despite his jealousy over Sanji's crush on you, Ace thinks the cook is kind of cute.

“How do you think we should punish him, baby?” asks Ace. Sanji is entirely unfocused, close to tears, as your moans replay in his head.

“We could always show him what he wants but can't have,” you say. You enjoy having an audience. Ace nods and tells Sanji to enter the dining room, the closest room to the deck. He obliges, realising he might like being bossed around by his captain's big brother.

He sits down on the bench seats as Ace takes a seat opposite him in a chair. Ace beckons you over with a smile on his face.

“Strip for us, Baby”, he orders, and you get to work immediately. Sanji feels lightheaded as he watches you bare your skin. He reaches out to touch you as you bend over to pull your panties down your legs. Ace notices and immediately draws you towards him. The force of his pull has you straddling him. “You think that I'm gonna let you touch her after you were eavesdropping?” he asks, laughing at their desperate expressions. “You can watch me play with her pretty pussy, and if you behave, then maybe I'll let you touch her.” With a goal in sight, Sanji keeps his hands to himself.

Ace manoeuvres you to face the other man, still sitting on his lap. He pulls your back against his chest and grips the underside of your legs, pulling them apart. The blonde man in front of you groans at the sight of your bare pussy. Ace's fingers find your clit, rubbing it in circles, making you whine. Your noises have Sanji rubbing himself over his trousers.

“Isn't she pretty?” Ace asks, pressing a kiss to your temple, and Sanji immediately nods, unable to take his eyes off Ace's skilled fingers and your pretty pussy. You start to get restless and squirm on Ace's lap. You want him to fill you up so badly. “What is it, baby?”

“Want your cock, please”, you beg, and the words sound so pretty coming from you that Sanji pulls his cock free from his trousers. He's slow in how he teases himself because he knows how fast he'll cum. Ace, never one to deny you of cock, pulls his hard cock out and guides you to sink on him. He holds you sill in his lap and fucks up into you. He stretches you out so well that he has to clamp his hand over your mouth to stop your moans from waking up the other crew members.

“You see this? This perfect pussy? This is mine. You can eavesdrop on us and watch me fill her up with cum, but you'll never have her.” Ace's possessive words have you clenching around him. Sanji strokes his cock in time with Ace's thrusts, and with his eyes laser-focused on where the two of you meet, he jumps when Ace speaks again, not expecting the voice. “If you're a good boy and hold off your orgasm until after I cum, I'll let you eat my cum out of her” Sanji, for a second, looks embarrassed that Ace has figured out that he may have a tiny crush on him too. Sanji nods, slowing his hand back down.

“Ace, Sanji. I'm close,” you whine. Sanji almost cums on the spot when you whimper out his name, and it sinks in how much power the two of you have over him. You can feel your orgasm building inside you, and with another pair of eyes on you, you feel it building quicker and quicker.

“You hear that, Sanji?” Sanji's cock twitches at how his name sounds coming from Ace's mouth. “She's gonna cum. Doesn't she look pretty, squeezing around my cock like this?” He makes eye contact with the cook, and Sanji's stomach twists. He finally, for the first time since you'd started, speaks up.

“She's so beautiful. You're both so hot,” he whimpers, stroking his cock. He looks kind of pathetic; Clothes still on, cock out, sweat dripping down his face, eyes hazy from lust, desperately jerking himself off to you.

“Oh, are we now? You wanna watch us cum?” Sanji's frantic nods make Ace laugh, and he leans down to speak directly into your ear. “You feel so good around my cock. I'm gonna cum inside you and fill you up; just keep squeezing me like that, pretty girl,” he says. He tells you he loves you and bites down on your shoulder. Your orgasm comes crashing down in waves as you shake in Ace's lap. The way your walls pulse and grip his cock has him cumming along with you. Sanji watches in awe, unable to move his hand as he just takes in the scene before him. He feels like he's genuinely having some kind of spiritual awakening, watching the two of you in the throes of pleasure.

When you finally stop twitching in his lap, Ace pulls out of you and tucks his cock back into his boxers the best he can without knocking you off of him. When he sees Sanjis obeyed his orders, he smiles, beckoning Sanji over them with a finger. Sanji drops to his knees and crawls over to you. He stares at your cunt for a second, watching Ace's cum drip from your hole. He tentatively leans in and teases his tongue at the edge of your hole before gaining his confidence and shoving his tongue into your cunt, licking at your walls. The combination of Ace's cum and your juices has his mind reeling. He's passionate and messy as he eats you out the best he can. You can tell he's inexperienced, but he's a fast learner. He pays attention to areas that make you whimper so prettily. Ace's large hand dips between your legs to grab a handful of Sanji's hair, and Sanji moans into your cunt.

“Fuck, Sanji” Hearing you moan his name spurs him on to eat you out more vigorously. “You're doing so good” The praise has his hand wrapping around his cock. He brings his other hand to hold you still on Ace's lap as he tongue fucks you. He pumps his cock and focuses on pleasing you as Ace whispers encouragement in your ear. In minutes, you're brought to yet another orgasm, and your legs clamp around Sanji's head. Sanji continues to lick you through your high as Ace rubs relaxing circles into your skin, cooing at you to calm you down. Sanji cums into his fist as he takes care of you.

When you're done, Ace tells Sanji to take care of himself while he cleans you up and gets you redressed. You stumble on wobbly legs as he helps you back into your clothes. Sanji, ever the gentleman, comes back to check on you one last time before returning to his post on watch until the strawhats wake up. Too tired to speak, you kiss Sanji's cheek, and Ace grips your hip, ready to walk you back to your guest room.

“If you want to play with us again, come find us later tonight,” says Ace, winking at a very flustered Sanji. As you walk back to your room, Ace giggles in your ear about how you both have a shiny new toy to play with.

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thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed :)

reblogs and comments are hugely appreciated!!

[littlexdeaths]

borrow the moonlight - e.m.

eddie munson x fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: descriptions of trauma/night terrors, upside down, mentions of eddie and reader’s deaths, allusions to smut, body insecurities, oral (m receiving), unprotected piv sex, cream pie, one use of daddy

a/n: this might not make a lot of sense if you haven’t read the first part, so you can do that here.

also thank you to my baby @strangerstilinski for looking this over for me and @mugloversonly for the suggestion on the title 💕

based on as long as you’re mine from wicked

word count: 3.4k

His feet hit the ground at a rapid pace, his makeshift shield clutched tightly in his fist. His spear had long been abandoned, the metal lid now his only source of protection.

Not much farther now, keep pushing.

The flapping of bat wings are getting closer as Dustin’s high pitched screams cut through the air.

“Eddie! Run faster!”

He’s almost there, the trailer door is barely ten feet away now. And that much closer to you. His ears are ringing and your words echo through his head.

Please come back to us.

Eddie’s foot catches on a vine, causing him to go crashing to the ground. His eyes widen in fear as the swarm of demobats suddenly surround him. Another scream pierces the air as he holds the shield over his face, dread filling his chest.

He’d know that voice anywhere.

You weren’t supposed to go through the gate, you were supposed to stay in Hawkins. Why didn’t you listen to him for once? But before Eddie can process what’s happening he feels a bite pierce through the flesh of his stomach, his own screams sounding far away in his ears.

But when he feels your hands on his chest the panic really sets in, and you move the shield away from his face. The bats are circling the both of you now, and he attempts to tuck you into his side. The metal lid now covers your faces as the male uses his own body to shield the rest of you.

“I couldn’t just leave you in here,” your voice shakes and tears stream down your cheeks.

A painful cry leaves your lips as one of the creatures bites down on your calf.

“Stupid, baby, you’re so stupid!” He cries before pressing his lips to yours.

The creatures circling above you let out one more loud shriek, and Dustin watches in utter horror as they dive down toward you both. Before Eddie can process what’s happening, you’ve rolled yourself on top of him. Shielding his body from the onslaught of demobats, your cries of pain echo loudly in his ears.

No no no.

Eddie awakes with a start, a muffled scream ripping its way out of his lungs as he sits straight up in bed. He’s dripping sweat, chest rising and falling as he attempts to catch his breath. He frantically pats the spot beside him; he panics once he notices it’s empty, the sheets cool to the touch.

Meaning you hadn’t been in bed for quite some time. He swings his legs over the side of the mattress, but he doesn’t get the chance to stand before you’re rushing back into your bedroom. His heart rate begins to slow as he takes you in, fully coming back to reality.

You’re wearing one of his old Garfield t-shirts, the neck is so stretched out it’s basically hanging off of your shoulder. Your legs are bare, just a pair of fuzzy socks adorning your feet and the sight brings a small smile to his lips.

Your hair is messy from sleep and pulled back from your face. But the dark circles under your eyes tell him you’ve been up for a lot longer than he realizes.

Despite all of that, you still managed to take his breath away.

“Another nightmare?” your voice is soft, practically a whisper as you approach him.

Eddie reaches forward to grab your shirt in his fist, pulling you between his open legs. He buries his face in your middle and you wrap your arms around him, pressing a tender kiss to his sweaty curls.

“You— you went through the gate.” His voice is muffled as you run your fingers through his curls.

“You… you…”

Eddie can’t speak the words, but you already know what he was going to say.

His shoulders shake as he starts to cry, but the implication of his words makes a lump form in your throat.

“It’s okay baby, it was just a dream. I’m right here.”

You let him soak your shirt with his tears, knowing he needed to let it out before he’d calm down completely. It had been well over a week since he had a nightmare of this magnitude, and you had thought he was beginning to improve.

Clearly, you were very wrong.

This was the first time he had never dreamt of you dying though, and it broke your heart. In the beginning it was him who had been the one to comfort you when you awoke in the dead of the night. Dreams of his lifeless body, trapped in the upside down forever flashing behind your eyes. But the further away from Hawkins you went, is when his nightmares began.

So now it was your turn to comfort him.

When his breathing starts to slow, he carefully pulls away from your middle. His eyes are bloodshot and glassy as he glances up at you, the tear streaks beginning to dry on his cheeks.

“Can I see her?” he asks hoarsely.

You smile softly, carefully untangling yourself from him. You press a light kiss to his forehead, before you slip out of the room. Eddie wipes any remaining tears from his cheeks, running a hand through his messy curls in an attempt to tame them.

You return a few moments later with a bundle of blankets in your arms. Eddie’s face immediately lights up at the sight of you two, grinning as you carefully pass the sleeping infant into his awaiting arms.

“I just got her to go back to sleep, so try not to wake her,” you whisper.

You take a seat beside him on the bed, watching fondly as he gazes down at the little girl. A calloused finger lightly strokes her rosy cheek, before she sleepily wraps her small hand around his finger. Her dark curls are sticking up wildly, much like his own. She was almost a carbon copy of him, except for her eyes.

Those were all you.

“I didn’t mean to leave you alone for so long… she was just so fussy,” you apologize, exhaustion clear in your voice.

Exhaustion soon melts into worry the longer you look at him, worried that your prolonged absence was the reason for his sudden night terror. Despite knowing that these things were quite common, especially considering what you both had gone through.

Eddie just shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your daughter’s little fist before meeting your eyes.

“I’m fine, sweetheart, I promise. Having both of you here really helps,” he reassures you.

When Winnie starts to stir in his arms, he begins to gently rock her back and forth, cooing at her every so often. The sight of the two of them together makes your heart feel more full than you could have ever anticipated. You want him to soak up as much time with her as possible, so you slip out of the room again and into your small kitchen.

After everything that happened with Vecna, closing the gates and eventually clearing Eddie’s name— you both put Hawkin’s in your rearview mirror.

You found yourself in a small, but cute seaside town on the coast of Washington. After you quickly realized the hustle and bustle of city life just wasn’t for either of you. While Indianapolis was a great city, you barely made it a month before the nightmares started.

The constant noise only seemed to fuel his growing anxiety, and he woke up screaming more nights than not. His body would be drenched in sweat and he trembled in your arms as the memories of the upside down flashed behind his eyes. The longer you stayed there the worse it became, so you packed up and moved again.

But you would do anything for him, if it meant he was by your side. That he was safe.

Opening the kitchen cabinet you grab out one of the many mugs that used to line the walls of the Munson trailer, one that Wayne had insisted you take with you. Cradling the chipped ceramic in between your palms, you grab out a packet of hot chocolate and empty the powder into the mug. You turn on your electric kettle, before glancing out the kitchen window.

The night is absolutely still, quiet.

Much like you preferred it to be. Experiencing life in the big city made you realize just how much you missed your sleepy little hometown. Before it was overrun by monsters.

You let your eyes slip shut, remembering all those nights you spent with Eddie at lover’s lake. Before your life was turned upside down.

Only the sounds of crickets and your mingled breathing fill the night air. The moon shone brightly overhead, engulfing you both in a pale glow. His fingers would trail over your smooth skin, his mouth swallowing your soft whimpers when they dip further between your thighs—

You’re suddenly snapped out of your daydream when you hear the soft pad of footsteps coming down the hall towards you. And your eyes flutter open when you feel his arms slip around your waist.

“Hopefully she doesn’t wake up again tonight,” he mumbles sleepily, pulling you flush against his chest.

He rests his chin on your shoulder, watching as you begin pouring the warm water into the mug.

“Is that for me?” he asks, his breath tickles your neck and causes you to squirm in his embrace.

His lip lifts in a cheshire like grin when the movement has you unintentionally grinding your ass back into him.

“Mhm, to help you sleep.”

You shrug, knowing from past experience how a cup of hot chocolate was always able to coax him back into a deep slumber. It was something Wayne had mentioned in passing once, it was one of the only things that would help when Eddie awoke from a nightmare as a young boy.

You glance up at the clock on the wall, 4:07 am. Eddie would have to be up to go back into the shop in a few hours.

He hums, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear and traveling down your throat. His hands that were once secure around your middle begin to wander lower, brushing against the hem of your t-shirt.

“Hmm… I think I know of something better to help me sleep, darlin’.”

Eddie spins you around in his arms, a small gasp escaping you at the sudden movement. The brunette quickly lifts you, setting you on the counter before slotting himself between your open legs. His lips are on yours before you have a chance to reply, your arms slipping around his neck to tug him closer.

His urgency leaves you a little breathless when his mouth trails back down the side of your neck, descending… lower lower lower. Until his lips brush against the curve of your knee and those brown hues gaze up at you longingly from his newfound position on the kitchen floor.

“Eddie…” you hum, caressing the stubble that lines his jaw.

The male continues to press his lips along the apex of your thighs, only stopping when you grip his curls in your fist. You tug on them harshly, in an effort to get his attention, a throaty moan leaves him from your actions.

“Please, let me,” you pause as he sucks onto the flesh of your inner thigh. A soft whine leaves you as his teeth soon graze over that same spot, “Let me take care of you for once.”

The brunette glances up at you again, and the pleading look on your face is enough to convince him. Not that Eddie could ever tell you no, he’s been wrapped around your finger from the first moment he laid eyes on you.

He rises to his feet without another word and helps you down from the counter. You eagerly switch places, guiding him back against the cabinets. Your hands trail down the bare skin of his chest, fingers showing extra care to the uneven flesh.

The scars that littered his torso were just another reminder of what the two of you had been through. Eddie hated them, and for the longest time afterwards he never let you see them. And while they were a reminder of the horrific things he had gone through in that other dimension, they were also a testament of his strength.

That he fought his way back to you— both of you.

“You’re beautiful, Eds,” you mumble, your lips passing over where your fingertips had just been.

Until you sink to your knees, gripping the elastic band of his boxers and tugging them down his thighs. His hardened cock springs free once the fabric pools at his feet, and he kicks them to the side. Your mouth practically waters as you take him in fully. Reaching out to wrap a delicate hand around the base of his shaft, and you feel him shudder.

“I love you,” he breathes, dark eyes watching you with the utmost admiration.

You press a kiss to the pink tip before taking him past your full lips, a low groan leaving his own. His head tilts back as you engulf him completely, fingers gripping the edge of the counter to stable himself. Eddie practically whimpers when he feels you gag around him, hips jutting forward until he hits the back of your throat.

While his eyes have slipped shut, yours are focused intently on him. The way his teeth sink into his lower lip when he tries to quiet himself, and his brows scrunch together when your tongue drags along the underside of his cock. They only flutter open again when he reaches out to rest his palm on the back of your head, slowly fucking himself into your mouth.

“That’s it… shit. You look so pretty like this, sweetheart,” he grunts.

The volume of his moans steadily increases as you pick up the pace. One of your hands rests on his thigh, while the other moves to cup his balls. His face continues to contort in pleasure, each drag of his cock against your tongue has heat pooling in your lower belly. His thigh begins to tremble beneath your palm, and you know he’s close.

Before he reaches that precipice, he’s pulling you off him. A string of saliva drips down your chin as you practically pout up at him. Eddie laughs softly, taking your hands to help you to your feet.

“Don’t give me that look, baby,” he cradles your face in his palms. “I just don’t want this to end yet.”

The male leans forward, capturing your lips with his own. He begins to walk you backwards until you bump into the kitchen table, only pulling away to lift the sleep shirt over your head. Eddie guides your panties down your thighs and helps you step out of the fabric.

“Lay back for me, pretty girl,” while you raise an eyebrow at his request, a playful smile graces over his features, and that dimple makes an appearance.

Eddie carefully lifts you again, and you hiss quietly as the cool wood of the table touches your overheated skin.

“It’s my turn to worship you,” he asserts.

Eddie then kisses the tip of your nose before coaxing you to lay back against the hard surface. A small shiver runs through you as he leans over you, the light above the stove bathing the kitchen in a warm, yellow hue. It casts an almost halo-like glow around his silhouette, he looks like an angel.

His head dips, kissing along your collarbone and your breath begins to pick up in your chest. He can feel your heart racing beneath his lips, which spurs him on further. Those same lips graze over the swell of your breasts, his tongue swirling around the stiff peak. He soon switched to show the same amount of attention to the other.

But Eddie doesn’t stop there, allowing his lips to travel over the stretch marks that zigzagged across your lower tummy and hips.

Your own set of battle scars, while different from his— only made you more beautiful in his eyes.

He could tell from the change in your breathing that you were nervous, hands pushing his long curls back from his face. While his body had changed, so had yours. Growing a little version of the two of you had widened your hips, thighs. The raised stripes along your skin was something you were still getting used to.

Despite knowing how much he adored you, that little voice in the back of your head continued to tell you that you weren't as desirable as you used to be. That he wouldn’t want you in the same way he used to, your body was too different. Eddie notices the far off look in your eyes, and he already knows the reason for it.

But he wouldn’t let you dwell on those thoughts for long.

“So goddamn gorgeous…” he nuzzles his face into your stomach, blowing raspberries against your skin. The brunette grins at you as you giggle softly, “That’s my girl.”

He slowly crawls on top of you, resting his palms on either side of your head before slotting himself in between your open thighs. His thumb brushes over your lower lip, his dark eyes beginning to melt your remaining defenses.

You reach between your bodies to grasp his shaft, lining him up with your entrance. He sinks in slowly, savoring the way your warm walls envelop him fully. Once he’s fully seated at your deepest point, his head drops. Forehead resting against your own as you wrap your legs around his waist.

Eddie gives an experimental thrust forward, his cock dragging against your walls in such a delicious manner. The feeling has you whining softly, clutching onto him as he fills you to the brim with each gentle rock of his hips. The table beneath you creaks in protest, but the sound only encourages him to go deeper— faster.

Determined to watch you fall apart beneath him.

And when his cock hits that perfect spot that has you keening aloud, he presses his lips to yours to silence you. You can feel him everywhere, body completely molded against yours. So much so that you can’t tell where you begin and he ends.

Eddie can feel the way you start to tremble beneath him, your manicured nails digging harshly into his biceps. Just another way that you’ve marked him as your own. His lips soon detach from your own, trailing down your jaw to the hollow of your throat.

It’s been far too long since you’ve been like this, between his long hours at the shop and taking care of your newborn baby… you haven’t been able to have this time together.

So as much as you both would love to do this for hours, your bodies clearly have other plans.

Another whimper of his name has his cock twitching inside you, his thrusts beginning to pick up speed as your walls clamp down harder around him.

“You gonna make me a daddy again, angel?” he pants into your damp skin, the question being the thing to finally push you over the edge.

You cry out incoherent babbles of his name and exclamations as your body shakes. Stars dancing behind your eyes when they squeeze shut. Curses tumble from his mouth when you feel him spill inside you, continuing to rock his hips until the exhaustion finally overtakes him.

Eddie all but collapses onto you, sweaty and spent. You giggle when he nips at your shoulder, lifting his head to regard you with the sleepiest of expressions.

But that peace doesn’t last long.

The phone rings suddenly, a shrill sound makes you wince. A loud wail soon follows, both sounds piercing your ears. You both are scrambling off the table in a flurry of limbs.

“Can you go get her, please?” you groan, pulling your discarded shirt over your head before you reach for the receiver.

Eddie haphazardly pulls his boxers back up his legs before he rushes down the hall toward your crying infant.

“Hello?”

You can’t hide the bitterness from flooding your tone, knowing sleep wouldn’t be coming for quite some time now that your daughter was awake again.

“You need to come back to Hawkins… now.”

You would recognize Robin’s voice anywhere, but the urgency in her tone has your brows scrunching in confusion.

You grip the phone tighter in your palm, “Why? Rob, what's going on?”

It’s silent for a beat, only the sounds of her shuddered breathing on the other end of the line.

“He’s back.”

tagging some moots who seemed interested 💕@loserboysandlithium @razzeith @vamp-bunny @take-everything-you-can @probablyin-bed @mmunson86 @eddies-acousticguitar @nailbatanddungeon @guiltyasquinn

[callooopie]

The campus trio as study buddies (gone sexual) not clickbait?

Study Buddies (GONE SEXUAL?? NOTTT CLICKBAIT. WATCH TILL END) // HOTD men

“This my playpen. Borderline thinking like Barbie, can you play Ken?” — (Unreleased) // Billie Eilish

Okay chat what if I went a little crazy and did like student versions and professor (or TA) versions… lol. (And that’s exactly what I did) Think of it like an apology for leaving y’all high and dry. This isn’t my best work so sorry if it’s a little bad in general. I feel like my writing was cringe for this so I might edit later. Man… homework is so tufffffff. But my prof. said I’m at the point where my latin doesn’t need to be corrected as much >:333 we truly do take those. And my study is so fun.

[Unedited] BTW this is all fiction. Plz do not come after me for thinking abt the teacher student trope T-T It’s all just silly silly T-T

Davos Blackwood // Student

For his somewhat known reputation as a party guy. Davos is very smart. A good note taker, helpful to his other classmates. Your luck he’s your friend and you both are already taking the same course. And if you’re not already friends? It’s very easy to get on his good side. Just be chill, conversational, laidback. He’s a very easy guy to talk to. So when you’re having issues with understanding this latest lesson from class, you go to Davos for assistance. And so you two decide to set up a study session in the library. Sometime on the weekend and late at night when no one would bother you or try to steal the study room from you guys.

You both are sitting beside one another. Davos is leaning slightly against you as he points to something in your notebook, hands waving around a bit as he explains what’s been confusing you. His eyes shift between looking down at your notes and looking into your eyes. Your legs underneath the table lazily swing back and forth. You’ve kicked your shoes off, a socked foot poking his ankle. It was just a way to annoy him, and Davos does scold you lightly for not paying attention. But as your pointed foot faintly prods against his pant leg and the way you’re giving him a side glance..

The late night study session divulges into something else for the time. Davos sliding off his chair as he drops to his knees in front of you. His hands wrap around your ankles as he pulls you forward to the edge of your chair, making you let out a tiny yelp of surprise as you slide down in a slumped position. Davos hopes you like the thrill of what you’re both about to do as he slowly pulls down your pants and then your underwear, letting the clothes dangle off of one foot over his shoulder before he buries his face in between your legs. Davos is a very eager eater. And you’ve both been working so hard, he’s starving y’know?

There’s a sense of urgency, but also Davos takes his time with you. Technically no one should bother you two. The door is locked and the window blinds are closed. I believe I’ve said it before and so I’ll say it again. Messy eater. Spit and your own wetness drips down his chin onto the chair. As embarrassed as you feel about leaving behind that.. it is quite a sight to see as your eyes lock and you watch Davos as he licks a long strip up your pussy. He swirls his tongue around your clit, leaving little nips as he moves his tongue up and down, going from playing with your sensitive bud to simply pushing his tongue into your wet entrance and tasting around. Loud slurping sounds can be heard from him as he moans into you or against your inner thigh as he pulls you closer to him, wanting to drown in you.

Davos likes looking up at you from this position. Even more so when he drags his tongue around your clit, his other hand returning from where it was in his pants as he pushes a finger slowly into you. He pulls away to watch just this one moment, eyes lighting up even in his half-lidded gaze as he watches you sigh; your head falling back against the back of the chair. Davos adds another finger and then another as he pumps them in and out of you, his lips and tongue returning to your clit as he latches onto it.

This was a study session at the beginning, and Davos wouldn’t be a good tutor if he didn’t at least make sure you looked over or read out your notes and his notes. Which is exactly what he does. Your hands gripping your notebook tightly as you explain your thoughts or reasonings behind the lesson. He doesn’t let up as he hums in agreement or understanding, muffled from how he’s pressing his mouth and nose against your pussy. His fingers speeding up as they pump in and out of you, your slick starting to run down his wrist. Maybe like how it’s easier to remember information when you write it down, maybe you’ll remember your notes as he eats you out and fingers you to cumming all over his face?

Davos Blackwood // Teaching Assistant

Okay. Not professor, although there are young ones. I don’t see him taking up the mantle of educating our youths like that. More so TA. A young TA Davos who’s only excited because he gets paid while talking about something he’s coherent at as a graduate student. He’s tasked with running the recitations, small lectures, a part of the grading. He’s the teaching assistant who shouldn’t be a teaching assistant. The beginning of class is him talking about something unrelated (I.e “Did you guys go to that frat party last weekend? No? ..okay good because you would’ve seen me do something mad illegal—“). You sit at the front of the classroom, and all it takes is you two locking eyes just once and he’s hooked.

He’ll start to crack jokes, always looking at you with a wide grin. If he gestures around with a chalk piece or a dry-erase marker; he points at you absently. A wave or a flourish in your direction. He has one student he always looks at, and it’s you. You’ll be the student he uses as examples or serve as a way to break up the different parts of the lecture. And in return you smile at him, listening diligently, enthusiastically. Davos is cute after all, and maybe it’s been a bit of a fantasy—a thought. But who hasn’t dealt with thoughts about a cute teacher. “Everyone got it? You got it? I know you got it. You’re smart like that aren’t you?”

He tells you after class. Y’know if you ever find the material hard.. it’s okay to pay him a visit. Even just to chat. Davos loves to talk. And you do take him up on that offer. After all, its good to go review things. Reviewing consists of you sitting on his desk in his tiny allotted office, Davos standing between your legs as he presses sloppy and desperate kisses to your lips. Saliva connecting you two as you pull away for air before your lips smash together once more. To be fair it did start out as a serious question pertaining to the course material. But he kept giving you that look, and you just looked so cute today. Almost like you dressed your best just for this moment.

It’s a quickie. It’s dirty, it’s desperate, and it feels so good. His hands know where to remain, when to slide up underneath your shirt like so. His thumbs briefly feel over your nipples—a hard flick from his fingers making you jump. If you’re wearing a skirt or dress; it’s now hiked up around your midriff. Your shirt pushed up around your chest. For the sake of time, your underwear is pulled to the side. Your own hands reaching forward to undo the button and zipper of his pants. Davos likes biting along your shoulder or neck. His tongue drags along the side of your neck, a hum of amusement as he feels your breath hitch right tin your throat as he passes by. His lips running up to bite your ear, whispering things of what he will do, what he can do, what he wants to do.

Obviously you gotta keep at least a little quiet. You can do that right? Be quiet and good as he slides his cock into you. He lets out something like a strangled grumble, a breathy string of incoherent uttering as his eyelids flutter. His hands on either side of you, pushing into the wood of the desk as his lips collide with yours. The best way to keep you both silent. The only sound in the tiny cluttered office being the sound of the table creaking just a bit. Sometimes the sound of skin slapping against skin can be heard but Davos slows down so as not to make it…obvious. Gasps and breathy sounds come from both of you. Your lips or open mouths always remaining near one another, against one another, foreheads pressed together. Saliva drips down your chin and a trail of it can be seen glistening around your mouth and sides of your face. All along your neck and shoulders reddened bite marks and hickeys start to appear more apparent.

Davos could be mean and quiz you right then and there, even going as far as to say that it will be a graded. Just a knowledge check. His lips brush against your ear as he whispers sultry things and exam questions. If you answer wrong, he slows his pace down—almost pulling out entirely as he barely keeps his tip inside you. When you finally answer correctly he praises you and drives his cock back into you hard enough that the table pushes back, an empty coffee mug tipping over as he pounds into you again and again as the tip of his dick hits that spot in you that has you seeing stars and making guttural whines. You’re certain the papers your sitting on top of are ruined from your activities, crumpled and wet as he slides in and out of you—squelching sounds following with each movement and drag of his hips. The rule of being quiet is forgotten about. It’s around 6 pm, really no one should be around in the office to hear anyways…

Jacaerys Velaryon // Student

There was no one else you’d rather have tutoring from than Jacaerys. He was so smart! Top of his class and everything. Although he was defensive over lending his notes. He said he would help you and improve your own if you came over to his dorm. Which is exactly what you did after class on a random Friday. The both of you making light conversation and you thanking him again and again for helping you. Even if you thought you were a lost cause over this subject material, Jace had told you not to fret about it. After all, everyone learns at some point.

You both sit on the floor, your notebook open and a few sheets of paperwork spread around on the carpet. You’re sitting in Jace’s lap as he explains a concept to you. You however are writhing in his lap, a breathy moan escaping you as he presses the vibrator more against your clit. It’s lowly buzzing and thrumming, on the lowest setting possible as Jace watches you closely. Was this what you had in mind when he said he had a “good” way for you to finally learn the material? No. But you weren’t really complaining either as he spreads your legs with his. His other hand squeezing your breast as he talks on and on as if nothing were happening. Sometimes if it looks like you’re starting to lose it; Jace will move his hand up from your boob to your hair as he gently tugs on it, pulling your ear to his lips as he asks you to repeat what he just said back to him. If you can do that (or if you can’t), that’ll change how he goes about tutoring you.

If you get it right? Congratulations, you’re still not out of the woods yet. But ti you get it wrong, Jacaerys will tut as he shakes his head. Slowly he pulls the vibrator away despite your pleas and begging. He goes over the material once more, painfully slowly. His eyes never leaving yours as he talks in a languid manner. Remember, this’ll all be on the test next week. What’ll happen if you fail? You’ll be all upset about it, and Jace hates seeing you upset. So this is for your own good as he talks against your ear, encouraging (and mean) words and remarks coming from him as he asks if you understand. And when you finally get it right? The vibrator returns to your pussy, earning a squeal from you as you slouch in his arms.

Jacaerys has a mean grin on his face as he moves onto a different topic, increasing the speed and intensity of the vibrator against your pussy as you whine loudly. He holds you tightly with one arm so you can’t squirm away. You’re so close to getting it! You just gotta.. put your mind to it. And no you can’t mumble or slur together a barely coherent sentence to appease him. Jacaerys wants you to loud and clear explain the concept as he rubs the vibrator around your clit slowly. And when you finally do, he smiles with a sigh as he presses a kiss to your cheek. Praise falls from his lips as he whispers into your ear about how smart, how hard working you are to finally understand. Perseverance. And he tells you good girls get rewarded as he lets the vibrator run on its highest setting as he holds you tightly with just one arm. Your legs spread as far as they can go. And if you show him a good grade on your exam? He’ll be sure to reward you very well.

Jacaerys Velaryon // Teaching Assistant

Like Davos. Jacaerys is a TA. They’re even in the same cohort of people. But instead of the more chill personality that is Davos, Jace is a little more serious and uptight. This is a high level course he’s helping to teach after all. And it’s a very tiny class, consisting of only 10 or more students. So it’s very easy to share his attention between you all. Although.. you seem to be getting more assistance. While Jace does go around the class when he lets you all work on the homework or latest assignments by yourself; he seems to hover around you just a bit. Asking if you need help, if you understand everything perfectly. He has a habit of bracing his hands against your desk, leaning down slightly as he looks over your work. He’s leaned over enough that you can smell his cologne and feel his breath against your hair. But just as the proximity becomes nothing, he pulls away before going around the class again.

It’s your last class of the day, and everyone’s already leaving to enjoy the Friday night on campus. But you stay behind to help Jace clean up the classroom. And he appreciates your help, a lazy conversation ensuing as you both do your own tasks. Soon it comes up that you didn’t really understand the lesson today and that you’re a little worried about it appearing on a test or something. Of course Jace is concerned; the best student in the class having issues? He certainly can’t let that continue as he says not to worry and that since you’re both here already, he can explain it on the board.

You’re braced against the table up front, your notebook open to the problems you had copied down. A pencil in your trembling hand as your forearms rest on the desk. Jacaerys is right behind you, both of your pants around your ankles as he holds onto your hips. His cock already buried into your warmth as he looks over your shoulder at your work like he usually does. His hips rhythmically rutting in and out of you as he points out where you went wrong with your problem solving. Jacaerys has laid out his conditions, for every problem you get wrong he’ll slow down, pull out—or even leave you to deal with your own mess as he doesn’t let you cum. His eyes watch your work like a hawk. He’s lazy with his thrusts, taking the time to enjoy how it looks when he pulls all the way out before slowly sliding back in all the way to his base. The movement drags out quiet whimpers and moans from your lips as you hastily work on each problem.

Once you finish your work, with a moan you slide the notebook to the side so Jace can read over your shoulder. His pace slows despite your quiet pleas. A worried look crossing your already breathless face as you wait with bated breath. After a few tense moments, your TA smiles at you as he picks up his pace again. Words of praise hitting your ears as he starts to ram his cock into you more harshly. This is what you were begging for after all, right? And your hard work is being rewarded. So don’t start complaining about possible bruises when he slaps your ass or thighs with a firm hand or how the table is squeaking against the floor. And if you have nowhere to be on this Friday evening, Jacaerys has a few tips on how you can study better.

Cregan Stark // Graduate Student

Cregan is the only other student at your table. Which therefore makes you partners for any project or group assignment the professor assigns. It’s not a bad gig, Cregan is nice even if he’s a little quiet and stoic. He’s here to learn after all, this is money being spent. And he’s not the type to be wasteful with his courses. So in class you both cut the conversation to a minimum, working hard and talking to each other only when it pertains to the class or something else academic. A little cold shoulder maybe but you’re both work oriented like that. So when a big exam is expected to come up, you and Cregan decide to block out a certain time to study all the material. Printed study guides, old notes, the whole nine yards.

Some people study better when writing it down again and again, others like flash cards, memorization. The best way you two learn best? Well, your study guide is held in your hands as you read out a section. And Cregan below you nods in return as he lets out a shaky breath. It’s a little hard to follow along with the guide, his eyes shifting between reading and watching you as you ride him. You can see the conflict right there, eyes darting from the paper to your breasts and how they bounce and look, to your own eyes as you read with a lidded look. Now, not only does this get the whole ordeal of studying out of the way, but it’s also quite a fun time for you both. Two birds with one stone.

You are a very distracting picture. Cregan would draw you if he could. But for now he settles on remembering exactly how you look as you slowly sit down on his dick over and over. How your head falls back momentarily as he stretches your walls out. The faint whine you make as he juts up into you for fun. He hasn’t been much help, you’ve been doing all the work. And the room is heating up nicely as the bed slowly creaks underneath you, neither of your eyes leaving the other as you regard one another with a soft and gentle gaze. You really are beautiful. And smart.

Your voice shakes, throat going a little dry due to how long you’ve been droning on about a certain topic from the guide. Your legs and thighs burn slightly as well as you straddle Cregan on his bed. His cock buried nicely into you as you bounce up and down. You have to pause every now and then, a roll of your hips making his eyes close for a moment with a breathy sigh. You both think you manage to divide your attention between studying and well fucking. But soon the restraint in both of you starts to break down as you ride him. And it’s not long before study guides and exams are long forgotten as he flips you over onto your back, his hands finding your hips as he fucks you into the mattress. If you both fail the test? Well.. you can always fuck the anger out of one another.

Cregan Stark // Young Professor

The new professor is young. Which is the talk of the entire campus. Professor Stark, lecturer of arctic biology and ecosystems. Very intelligent, very handsome. All that jazz. It’s a little clear that most people taking his course are.. there for other reasons (Which can be said about the others too). But you are actually interested in what Cregan has to say. You’re the one who raises their hand, visits office hours, talks to him outside of the class about the subject and his experience with the subjects in the coursework. You’re a very endearing person, and you make Cregan feel seen academically. And you are… quite attractive. A thought he has desperately tried to get out of his head.

He is no better with how he treats you. Always speaking to you with nothing but praise and respect. When he first compliments your work, a project you had done for the class. Cregan is almost taken aback by how you light up with glee, a smile on your face as you tilt your head. It’s something he wants to see again. And again. Lingering gazes, his hand brushing against your arm as he walks past your desk. Cregan always seems to have a compliment for you on whatever you do. Comments left on your assignments.

You visit his office hours as stated before. It’s a more relaxed setting where you both just talk to one another. Perhaps it’s overstepping but you sit on his desk, legs crossed as he leans back in his chair. Maybe by accident, maybe not, his hand grazes your calf as he lifts his hand to fix his hair. Your shoe rests right against his leg as you lean forward. You are a very lovely student, perhaps the best one he’s ever had. And he tells you so; you are a very good student. So good about how you slide off of the table, sinking to your knees.

Cregan will admit this is a lapse in judgment, simply leaning back and watching as your hands reach up to his belt. Your tongue flicking out for the tiniest moment, wetting your lips in anticipation. Eyes batting up at him; your expression, knowing, confident, upsettingly faultless. You know what you are doing, he knows what you are doing. You know he knows. He helps you take off his slacks, a groan or a grumble resounding in his throat. Guttural and breathy. Low in volume as his eyes regard you with a lusty glint. Like a haze, a mist of anticipation and electricity dancing along his body. Dangerous, definitely. There are rules, codes of conduct, norms of society being broken. But that doesn’t seem to matter as your lisp wrap around his tip, your tongue swirling around the very top as your hand strokes up and down his length. Morals go out the window entirely when your mouth engulfs him, as far as he can go—down your throat practically. Cregan wonders if that image has been burned into his mind as he breathes out a string of strangled groans and incoherent sentences. If not, then you two can always do this again. You gag and slurp, your eyes looking up at him from where you sit on your knees. They’re certainly going to be a beautiful shade of red by the time you’re done. And you seem to be taking your sweet time as you languidly lick up and down. You’re lucky everyone’s already left the building.

Just remember you’re not getting extra credit points for this…

[woso-dreamzzz]

Outburst II

Leah Williamson x Jordan Nobbs x Child!Reader

Summary: You say a bad word

"Whoa, whoa," Leah says helplessly as your screaming body is placed into her arms," What-? Jordan, what's going on?"

Jordan sighs as she gently wipes the tears from your red face. "She's a little sad today-"

"Mummy!" You whine, reaching for her. You try to flop back out of Leah's arms to get to her and it's only because of Leah's quick readjustment that you don't go falling to the floor. "Mummy, no!"

"I'm sorry, bug," Jordan says and, to her credit, she does look incredibly apologetic," But you know it's Mum's turn to have you this week."

You just sob harder.

"No," You cry," Mummy, no! Please!"

"I'm sorry, bug," Jordan repeats, crowding close enough to give you a tight hug in the hope of calming you down," But you know that it's Mum's week now. You were so excited to get your minutes in a few days ago."

You just keep crying though, trying to claw your way out of Leah's arms and cling to Jordan.

"Go, Jordan," Leah says with a sigh," I'll take her inside. I'll calm her down."

Jordan looks torn but nods. "She didn't want to leave Blu. I took him to the vets last night for a checkup. He stayed over there so she hasn't seen him since. She's been a little bit sad."

"A little bit?" Leah scoffs as you wail right in her ear before hitting her shoulder. "Hey, no, bug. What have I said about hitting? It's rude."

You hit her again.

"Bug," She says in warning.

"Hey," Jordan says softly," As soon as I get back, I'll pick up Blu and send your Mum a picture but you've got to stop crying, okay?"

You sniffle. "Promise?"

"I promise."

You nod and angrily wipe away your tears. Your bottom lip still trembles but you relax in Leah's arms, head on her shoulder as your hand reaches out to play with the necklace she's wearing.

Leah hopes that you'll be happier now that Jordan's promised pictures of Blu but you're still a little sad and depressed during bath time and bedtime.

You didn't even enjoy your bedtime story like you usually do and it carries on the next day when you don't cross the day off on the calendar.

You're usually so excited to cross a day off because it means you're closer to match day and match day means you get your minutes in at the very end.

Leah doesn't know what else to do. She's shown you the picture of Blu Jordan sent. She put you in your comfy clothes and your favourite Arsenal jersey but you still remain sad.

Very briefly, Leah considers going to the shelter and getting you a puppy but realises that she's got training and there's not enough hours in the day to do both so she picks you up and gets you into the car.

Leah's pretty sure it unnerves everyone how quiet you are. Even the newer signings like Fox and Codi seem to notice something's wrong.

Katie's the one who makes the first move.

You're sitting in Leah's cubby, just swinging your legs aimlessly when Katie pokes you in the cheek.

The disgruntled look on your face is funny so she pokes you again.

"Come on," She cajoles," What's wrong? I don't get a hug this morning?"

"No."

"Why not? I might die without my hugs, you know."

You give her a blank stare. "Then die."

"Bug!" Leah snaps sharply and you duck your head sheepishly.

"Sorry, Mum. Sorry, Katie."

Leah turns back to what she's doing and Katie pokes you again.

"Stop it!" You snap but Katie does it again," Fuck off, Katie!"

Someone gasps, probably Alessia, but all you're focussed on is your Mum. Leah whips around to face you. She looks angry, looking down at you with pursed lips.

"That's a bad word, bug!" She tells you," It's a naughty word! Who taught it to you?"

You shrug.

"Bug, you've already been naughty today. Don't lie to me. Who taught it to you?"

You feel the urge to cry again, your throat going all tight and closed up and you know pretending you don't know what Mum is talking about will get you in a lot of trouble.

You mumble your response.

"Speak louder, bug," Leah says," So I can hear you."

"Rachel said it to Mummy a few days ago when they were wrestling," You reply," Didn't know it was a bad word! It got Mummy to stop!"

Leah sighs, running a hand over her mouth as she looks at you. The rest of the locker room has gone silent, just watching how she's going to tackle this situation.

"Some words," Leah says," Are naughty words. That's one of them. I don't want to hear you say it again, bug."

You frown. "Rachel said it."

"Rachel's an adult."

"And adults say bad words?"

"Only when they're being naughty." Leah really doesn't want to be having a conversation like this but she has to admit that thinking it through has perked you up a little bit.

"Adults get in trouble for saying bad words too?" You check and Leah nods. You point right at Beth. "She said fuck last week."

"Bug, stop repeating it!"

"And so did Emily and Lessi. Lessi taught it to Vic, who taught it to Codi. Everyone says it, Mum!"

"Well-" Leah looks around.

"And they didn't get in trouble!"

"They're getting in trouble now!" Leah declares," We'll make a swear jar. If you swear, you put money in the jar. Is that good enough for you, bug?"

You think for a moment, looking around the room where Kyra is giggling. "Kyra called the plug a motherfucker when she stepped on it last week."

"That was meant to be a secret!" Kyra exclaims.

"Alright." Leah massages her temples. "From now on, this is a no swear zone. If you swear then you put money in the jar."

"Hey, come on!" Katie complains," Sort your kid's potty mouth out at home! Don't make all of us suffer through this shite."

"That's a quid in the swear jar, McCabe," Leah says, turning and picking you up," And no Bug Hugs for a week."

"No, Bug Hugs?!" Katie shrieks," I'll die without them."

Leah winks at you. "Then die."

[neoneun-au]

IN EARNEST; J.WW

―PAIRING: jeon wonwoo x fem!reader, yoon jeonghan x fem!reader ―GENRE: regency au, romance, fluff, angst, love triangle, childhood friends to lovers ―WORD COUNT: 13k ―WARNINGS: rigid gender roles, historical setting, angst & family in-fighting

―AUTHOR'S NOTE: this fic was rewritten from one on my old blog. it was majorly overhauled and i added around 1k worth of words. its one of my favourites, so i would appreciate hearing any thoughts you might have on it. please enjoy

The long, warm rays of the sun stretch over the fields of your childhood as you sit on the stone fence at the edge of your family’s estate, legs swinging in a manner unbefitting a young woman soon to be engaged. A gentle spring breeze stirs at your hair, blowing over you as it moves westward across the countryside on its journey as you sit, book in hand, wrapped in the warmth of the afternoon light. Words dance on the page before your eyes as you try and focus on the story, pulling your attention into the narrative only to have it drawn back out towards the horizon over the golden fields of wheat and rye. With a sigh, you snap the book shut and slip from atop the rock wall, landing on the soft earth below. 

Skirts dragging against the long grass as you walk, you make your way through the field--wheat stalks brush against your bare arms, parting for you as you stride forward past the cows and sheep and towards an old grove of trees tucked back at the edge of the property by the meandering creek where you spent so many of your days in childlike rapture and leisure. Amongst the flurry of balls, social gatherings, and visits expected of you these days, you’ve hardly had a spare moment to come and sit among the trees for the past few years. Social propriety and demands have all but replaced the imagination of your youth and yet the trees welcome you in as an old friend–beckoning you forth into their shade and kissing your cheeks with the morning dew. 

One old tree, of gnarled roots and rough bark, sits chief among them in the center of the grove. Images of your sister and you swinging from its long branches and knotted limbs spring to mind as you stride closer. Days long past spent nestled amongst its jutting roots for a midday picnic without a care for the mud on the hems of your dresses. With a smile you walk towards the tree, hand outstretched in greeting, and feel your way across the trunk. The knots and rough bark ripple under your fingers--a map of the tree's life spread out under your touch, and you move around it until you meet a familiar dip in the bark. A carving of a memory long forgotten.

Your fingers trace the loops of the heart, the curves of the letters, and a face swims into your vision to join your childhood self as she runs through the fields and trees. A boy of honey brown hair and an even sweeter voice with whom the days seemed to stretch onwards into infinity. A boy you had made promise you at 11 years old that he would marry you when you were both older so that you could live together until eternity. A boy with the spark of love buried in the dark browns of his eyes, obscured by the frames of his wire glasses, waiting for age and maturity to bring it to the forefront. A boy who just smiled, laughed, and chased you through the dawn soaked fields until you both collapsed from exhaustion by the river. A boy who leaned over with a soft smile some long hours later and whispered “I promise.” 

The promises of youth are delicate. They are made in the heat of summer, under the swell of the sun and the naive feelings that blossom in the hearts of every young person as they grow and change with daily discoveries. They are a glass vase, thin and ready to be broken–or simply tucked away on a high shelf to be left forgotten and collecting dust as time obscures them. 

Now, standing in the dawning of  your adulthood in the place of your youth, that promise is but a lingering nudge at the edge of your mind–a loose thread dangling free in the wind, waiting to be tugged on and unraveled. The boy stands with it, a denizen of the memory of a time when the sun shone down on you in smiles and in hope, lighting up your world with the wide-eyed exhilaration of young love.

You smile down at the carved imprint of a heart, transported back for a moment to that time, before someone clears their throat behind you, “what are you doing out here?” You spin on your heels, body moving unconsciously to shield the glyph from prying eyes, and see Jeonghan standing at the edge of the grove–sunlight filtering down through the tree tops and sprinkling him in flecks of golden light. He stands with a wry grin, arms crossed over his chest as he watches you regain your composure after the sudden interruption of your daydreams. 

“Nothing,” you reply after a moment with a light laugh, returning his smile–closing the lid on your memories as you take a step towards him. “Just out for a walk.” 

“Well, don’t wander too far,” he extends his arms for you to take and you accept, looping your arm through his and walking side by side out of the shade of the tree grove and  into the sunlight. “You might not be able to find your way back.” 

“I think I know my own family’s grounds, thank you,” you counter, peeking up at him as he stares ahead towards the estate in the distance, sprawling out over the field in a mass of grey stone. The wry smile has softened slightly, but still remains pulling gently at the corners of his lips. 

You hadn’t known what to make of Jeonghan the first time he stood off to the side of the village ball. New to the community by way of both work and friends, he was a source of fascination and aversion in equal measure by everyone in town. A community where everyone had known everyone and everyone was in everyone’s business made a newcomer stick out like the sorest of thumbs. You watched as he stood, making polite yet stiff conversation with the men of the village and keeping largely to himself  until your mother, not one to ever waste an opportunity, strong-armed your father into introducing the entire family to him. 

He seemed to sense in you a kindred spirit–someone there in a similar situation, bemused but disconnected from the gossip and frivolity of the ball. Placed at the center of it all regardless by mere social expectation and family ties. You spoke for a while, easing minute by minute from fateful acquaintances to fast friends, until you both succumbed to decorum and he asked  for a dance; after which your mother adopted him immediately as a friend of the family and he has not known a moment of peace since. 

A fact which you love to tease him about at any given opportunity. 

“What are you doing out here today, Jeonghan?” You ask as you walk past the cows grazing in the field, arm still tucked securely into the crook of his elbow. 

“Your father asked me round to discuss the merger of the mill in town,” he shakes his head and you laugh at what you can only imagine was an incredibly dry conversation. “Dreadfully boring. Then your mother noticed you wander off into the woods and sent me to fetch you.” 

“Scandalous,”  you tease, nudging your elbow into his side and eliciting a brief laugh. “A young man and woman out to pasture together? Unchaperoned and unmarried? My mother must really trust you.” 

“Yes, well if only she knew that the only reason I agree to come and talk to your father about all of this nonsense is to have the chance to speak with you,” the teasing lilt in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed; you can tell it’s meant as a joke, but there is an air of truth to it as well and the comment sinks under your skin, stilling the air around you. Suddenly, his arm against yours feels too real, too solid. You feel altogether too close to him and yet not close enough. You glance up and see his gaze still fixated forward towards your home, the sunlight gleaming over him and bathing him in the golden light of its rays. 

“When do you return to town?” you shift the conversation, eager for a reprieve from the constricting of your heart in your chest. 

“In three days time,” he replies, releasing your arm to step through the gate into the gardens–holding it open for you to pass through behind him. 

“So soon?” you glance at him in surprise. In the month he had been here, visiting in the afternoons and attending dinner parties, he had not made mention of the date of his inevitable return to town, so hearing the answer now was a slight shock. 

Jeonghan nods, and you loop your arm through his once more as you ascend the stone pathway towards the front of the house. “Unfortunately,” he sighs, “it was meant to be next month but I’ve been called away sooner than I had planned.” 

“I see.” Your voice trails off and you slip your arm free from his as you step through the doorway. A strange sense of melancholy takes over, sweeping the sunshine away from your thoughts and replacing them with the grey clouds that precipitate a sky before a storm. In barely two months time, you’ve come to enjoy Jeonghan’s company and his consistent appearances in your daily life. They became a comfort to you in a way you hadn’t felt from anyone’s company in a long time. Not since you were young, running wild and free without thought of propriety or the looming threat of your future. 

“I was hoping, actually, to talk with you before I left,” he starts, breaking through the clouds in your mind. You can hear the hesitation clear in his voice as he talks, a small shy smile painting his handsome features. 

“About what?” The heat of curiosity builds in your mind, swirling thoughts joining the fray. A buzzing excitement building as you watch him formulate the words–the wheels in his mind turning into place behind his soft brown eyes. He’s building to something, grasping onto a thread of courage and you silently pray that he manages to keep hold as you feel your heart rise into your throat. His fingers twitch at his side, as if fighting the urge to reach for your hand and you feel your skin prickle at the thought. 

“I was hoping–” Jeonghan starts but is cut off just as quickly as your sister, Lydia, comes crashing through the parlour shouting your name, skirts billowing behind her. She skids to an abrupt halt as she sees you and Jeonghan both staring back at her. 

“H-hello, Mr. Yoon, I didn’t–umm,” she thumbs the letter clutched in her hand, nerves plain on her face as she tries to regain some sense of calm after her frantic entrance, “I didn’t realise you were still here.” She offers an awkward curtsy in his direction and you can hear the stifled laughter as he bows back. 

“Hello Ms. Lydia, I trust you are well?” 

“Very, thank you,” she nods, swallowing, and you have to stifle your own laugh at the awkwardness seeping out of her and infecting the room. She turns towards you, eyes pleading, “may I speak with you a moment?” 

You glance at Jeonghan and he smiles, “I should be going.” All hints of what he had been planning on saying before the interruption are wiped clear from his expression and you can’t help the slight bitterness towards your sister that rises in your stomach like bile as he turns to leave. 

“Your mother invited me for dinner tomorrow evening before I take my leave,” he adds, hand on the brass knob of the door, “I hope we can finish talking then.” With a final nod and smile he closes the door behind him–you watch through the window as he walks down the stone pathway towards his horse before your sister calls your attention back to her with a pointed cough. 

“Did he ask you?” she asks, eyebrows raised in curiosity. 

“Ask me what?” you move away from the entrance and flop down onto the plush cream settee at the side of the room–legs grateful for the relief after an afternoon spent traipsing through the fields outside. 

“Don’t be daft, I know that you know full well he is planning on proposing to you,” she sits down next to you in a huff, splaying her skirts out below her and knocking you on the shoulder with a closed fist–envelope still clutched tight in her hand, but evidently forgotten for the moment.

“Oh, I didn’t realise you were in his confidence regarding the matter,” you tease, drawing a flustered expression from her as she pouts at you. 

“I don’t need to be to know,” she grumbles, “everyone says. Especially Mama.” 

The rumours had been circulating since that first ball and you were not oblivious to them. It would be impossible to be oblivious when the gossip that roamed through the village was as subtle as a bull. But rumours were just that: rumours. Unsubstantiated whisperings passed around by bored mamas and nosy servants at parties and in parlours, and you preferred to keep your hopes out of their baseless grasp as long as you were able to. You couldn’t deny, however, that the hope was there. That it had wound its way into your heart, filling your mind and soul with a buoyancy you hadn’t anticipated to feel. 

The thought of Jeonghan in front of you, extending his hand for yours, and asking to keep it forever is a thought that you couldn’t deny having had more than once. 

But you were not going to give your prying sister the satisfaction of knowing this. Instead you stare deadpan at her as she sits with a pout on her face, waiting for a reaction. The standoff continues for a moment in silence before she resigns and sighs, thrusting the letter she had been clutching in her hand towards you, “here, it’s for you.” 

You pluck the paper from and examine the envelope–torn open already by prying fingertips and eyes. “You opened it?” The accusation is more tired than biting, but she cowers under it anyway–crossing her arms in defence. 

“No,” she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest in a decidedly unladylike manner–a habit of which your mother had tried to scold out of her for years now. “Mama opened it.” 

“And then you read it,” you sigh, running your eyes over the script of the envelope. Handwriting both familiar and unfamiliar. A name you haven’t seen in years scrawled in the top left corner in looping cursive–Jeon Wonwoo. Your heart leaps into your throat at the sight, your sister's protestations fading into background noise, as you focus on the name written on the sheet of white before you–transfixed by memory and recognition. 

“Are you listening to me?” Lydia’s voice bleeds through the swell in your mind as you slip the letter out of the envelope–delicately, as if it might crumble to dust at the barest whisper of a breath–and unfold it in your hands. You brush aside her attempts at getting your attention and fix your gaze on the words unfolding on the page. 

Dearest ______,

Firstly, I hope you receive this letter in good health, and that your family is well. I am sorry we never kept up correspondence as we had promised when I first left for the city. I have so much to tell you and yet I feel that most of it is entirely pointless, so it might be better left unsaid for now; at least until we are able to speak in person. 

I’m not sure when this letter will arrive, but my intention is for it to precede my own arrival by at least a day or so. I had been planning on visiting for quite some time, but it was a thought always pushed to the back of my mind as life and present matters took over, but receiving your letter resurfaced the desire to return. 

I must say your letter was a slight shock, but certainly not an unwelcome one. Truthfully, there hasn’t been a day that has passed that I have not thought of you or of the time we spent together as children and adolescents. I hadn’t dared to hope that you remembered, or even returned the feelings that I had held close to my heart since those days, but reading your words brought that hope back to life. 

I look forward to seeing you again at last, 

Yours Truly, 

Wonwoo

You sit in silence for a moment, staring blank faced down at the letter as your sister leans over your shoulder trying desperately to read the lines of ink scrawled delicately over the page. “Well,” she whines, giving up on the task, “what does it say?” 

Without a glance spared in her direction, you stand up and race out of the parlour–brushing past your confused mother as you dart up the staircase towards your bedroom. 

“Oh, did you get the letter?” your mother calls after you as you run, leaning over the bannister, but you staunchly ignore her as you careen into your room to tear into the trunk at the foot of your bed. No mind paid for the mess you’re creating as you pull out ribbons, books, and trinkets from the large, ornately carved wooden box. Buried at the bottom of the trunk lies a small box of letters, hidden from the prying eyes of your family–or at least you had thought it was hidden from the prying eyes of your family. Looking now, as you sit splayed out on the floor of your bedroom amongst a haphazard pile of items, it’s clear that it has been rifled through since the last time you had bothered to check it. 

From amongst the pile of letters hidden away amongst your treasures and belongings, only one is missing. One tear-stained, hastily written piece of parchment snatched from the stack of otherwise inconsequential papers by the fingers of someone who was incapable of minding their own business or of leaving well enough alone. 

“Don’t be mad,” your sister’s voice pleads from behind you as she stands in the doorway playing with her fingers, watching your back as you begin to gather up your things with a sigh–tossing them back into the trunk and closing the lid with a snap before turning to face her. 

A slow seeping mixture of anger and embarrassment has overcome your thoughts and swells near to bursting as you glare at her through a fog of red. She opens her mouth to speak, fear dancing in her eyes as she scrambles for some words that might placate you. Tries to form some meagre explanation for her actions. You take advantage of her immobility and move towards her with a fury you didn’t know you possessed. A moment before you can catch her sleeves she turns and races down the hallway, leaping down the staircase, and hiding behind your bewildered mama–a desperate shield from your wrath. 

A sliver of clarity leeches through the haze surrounding you, sounding out like a bell through your angered mind, and instead of reaching for her with clawing hands like you’re itching to, you push past them and stalk straight through the front door and out into the gardens. A light drizzle of rain has begun to fall in the time between your walk through the fields and now, but you pay it no mind–only too grateful for the company of the raindrops alongside the tears that begin to fall from your eyes. 

You can hear the door open and close behind you, footsteps crunching along the dirt and gravel of the path you are currently trodding on towards no destination, but you don’t give them the satisfaction of turning. Instead you pick up your pace, hastening your already brisk gait until you’re nearly running towards the creek at the edge of the estate–searching for some escape, some reprieve, from the suffocating presence of your family to gather the frayed edges of your tormented mind. 

Missing the hint as usual, they persist. Voices call out from behind you, entreating you to turn and face them but the pleas and demands only serve to heighten the flush of rage through your veins.

By the time you reach the edge of the water your body is shaking. Whether from the cold or the overwhelming emotions you’re not sure. You stand, staring out over the water as it rushes downstream, blinking away the tears stinging at your eyes. “Oh, will you stop being so dramatic,” your mother finally catches up with you–her curls and skirts soaked in water and mud, a fact of which you know you will never hear the end of. “Apologise to your sister.” 

You baulk at her, mouth gaping with shock and horror, “me? Apologise to her?” 

“Yes, you scared her,” she nods, arms crossed and eyes set in a determined stare, “besides, you shouldn’t be racing down the stairs like a child at your age. Not when you are so close to being engaged, just think; what would your fiance say about this behaviour?” 

“I don’t have a fiance,” you shoot back, mirroring her stance, “and if I did, and if he were a man of any brains at all, he would say I have every right to wring her neck for what she’s done.” 

“Mama,” Lydia whines, still hiding behind the impenetrable figure standing before you in rain-soaked linens. “I didn’t do anything wrong, I just sent out a letter.” 

“A letter that was never yours to send,” you shout, earning yourself a withering glare from your mother. Thunder rumbles in the far distance and you sigh, feeling the rain as it falls against your tired limbs and a tired mind. The idyl of the morning feels so far away now. Jeonghan’s easy smile, the light filtering through the grove, the feeling of the rough bark under your fingertips. A morning of reminiscence scrubbed away so easily by the foolishness of one insolent sister. All the hope that had lifted in your chest now falling away from you with each raindrop and disappearing into the ground below. 

You open your eyes to watch your mother standing in defence of the sister that might have ruined both your past and future. All life, all fight drains from your body, and you’re left now with the only question that matters hanging in the damp, cool air between you. “Why?”

She doesn’t answer. She stares back at you, an expression of haughty defiance painting her face, and after a minute of silence–a cold standoff at the edge of the river–you brush past them once more and stride back towards the house. Resigning yourself to never knowing; to life never being that same as it was mere hours ago when you were standing peacefully in the midday sun, unaware of the storm brewing for you in the shadows of the day. 

Your mother hurries to catch up with you, “you’ll forgive her. She is your sister, after all, you’ve only got each other.” 

You feel the urge to shout again, to admonish her for always taking the side of your younger sibling even when it was clear she was in the wrong, but the feeling dies in your throat before you can even think to act on it. You’re too tired. Instead you halt in your step and turn to face her, another question pressing at the forefront of your mind, “you read the letter?” 

“I suppose we’ll be having two guests for dinner tomorrow night,” she muses, managing at least to look somewhat apologetic for your current state of affairs despite the obvious delight swimming behind her eyes. Two potential love matches for her daughter, and all the drama that a bored mama could possibly dream up, had finally planted itself in her lap and she was enjoying every second of it. 

“Don’t you have any shame at all?” you ask, knowing how fruitless the question was but unable to refrain from voicing it. Enough anger was still lingering at the edges of your mind to give voice to the words. 

“Oh, don’t pretend like you’re not excited to see the Jeon boy,” she says, trailing after you as you resume your brisk pace towards the house. “I always thought you two might get engaged when you were older, but then he left and well, Mr. Yoon seems an excellent second choice.” 

You pointedly ignore her as she continues to monologue her fantasies for life, following behind you as you head up to your room in search of dry clothing and some reprieve from her aimless talking. “Mama,” you spin towards her, stopping her at the threshold of your bedroom, “I can tell you are gleaning some great joy from this situation, but please for once in your life have some pity and leave me alone.” 

She opens her mouth to speak again but you close the door before she gets the chance, blocking out her protestations as you sink down onto the oak floor in a puddle of linen skirts and despair. 

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Dinner is suffocating. Your father relishes in the rare silence at the table while you coldly pass bowls of potatoes and vegetables to your sister, avoiding eye contact even as she nudges you under the table with her foot. You know your behaviour is childish–unbecoming of someone your age, as your mother would say, despite her own childish actions–but you can’t bring yourself to come to a place of peace and forgiveness quite yet. The letter still looms in your mind like a parchment monolith, a cloud hanging over all of your thoughts even as you try to distract yourself after dinner with a book by the fireplace. Even as your mother tries to entice you into friendly gossip about how you think Wonwoo might have changed over the years, how he might measure up to Jeonghan as a potential match. 

The evening drags on into night, darkness swallowing the estate, and your sister sits staring at you over her untouched needlework from the other side of the parlour. You raise your eyes to meet hers for a moment before turning back to your novel, resuming the standoff and sinking back into the staunch silence you’re treating her with. 

In truth it has been this way since childhood. The moment she was ushered into this world, the weight of responsibility settled onto your shoulders. The expectation of being the eldest sibling; of acting mature and setting an example for her to follow as she chased you through the fields, inserting herself in every possible situation with the carelessness of one who knows that they can get away with anything, should they so choose. 

Your only reprieve from the insistent pressure of responsibility was when cousins and family would visit, capturing her wandering attention for long enough that you were able to slip out unnoticed and find solace outside, in a book, or with Wonwoo. Peace from her endless questioning and imitations–from following you around like a lost, unceasingly precocious child. 

The heat of her unwavering gaze burns into the top of your head as you try to follow the narrative of your story in the dim light of the fire. Eventually you give up, slipping the book back into its place on the shelf, and dismissing yourself with a good night to your father–absorbed in his own book and entirely uninterested in the dramatics brewing within his home. Your sister scrambles up after you, following in your footsteps and rushing to say her own goodnights before chasing behind you up the stairs. 

“Stop following me,” you spin around in the doorway to your room, arms crossed in defence–levelling her with a glare that you can only hope she takes seriously for once in her life. 

“You have to forgive me eventually,” Lydia says, matching your posture and meeting your gaze with her own determined stare. “You can’t be upset about it forever.” It’s clear the silent treatment you’ve been giving her has wormed its way under her skin–plucking at the exact nerves that she tries so hard to ignore. Her disdain for being ignored–for being disliked, even momentarily–working against her now in the safety of her own home. 

“Yes, I can,” you state flatly, half-turning away from her towards and moving to close the door before she stops you with a hand on your arm. 

“That’s not fair,” she whines, “what are you so upset about anyway? That you have two men in love with you?” The truth seeps through her words and you find the answer to your question from earlier finally in the subtext of her complaints. “You’re jealous?” 

“I’m not jealous,” she bites back, but the pout that accompanies the statement indicates the exact opposite. “I just think it’s unfair that you’re marrying someone without telling them that you’re in love with someone else.” 

“I’m not marrying anyone,” you grit your teeth to keep from shouting and rousing your parent’s attention. The last thing you needed at this moment was the less than helpful advice of your mother. “I’m not even engaged. No one has asked me to marry them–no one.” You turn away from her, eager to shut her out for the night and sink into the comfort of sleep, “and I’m not in love with Wonwoo.” 

She snorts, unconvinced, “that letter said otherwise.” 

“That letter was written when I was fifteen and he was leaving,” you reply with a glare, “things have changed.” 

“If you’re not still in love with him,” a small smile quirks up the corner of her lip, bringing another wave of rage crashing through you at the sight of it. Her smug expression lit low by the lanterns burning on the walls, “then why are you so mad?” 

With a huff you close the door, blocking out any further comments she might deem necessary to add–anything further to provoke you to anger. You pause a moment, staring at the dark wood of the door, and breathe. The urge to scream floods your thoughts and you move to lie flat on your bed before it bursts free completely. 

Sleep comes in fits and starts. Your dreams chase you through the labyrinth of night cloaked in signs and symbols–always beginning and ending in that grove of trees on your family's estate. Each time you stand at the entrance to the greenery, hopeful anticipation bubbling up in your chest, and take a step forward. Everything is silent–still. No chirping of birds, no rush of the wind, no sound at all save your own footsteps over the trodden soil as you walk towards the gnarled oak at the centre of the grove–your hand outstretched towards the bark. 

The carved heart greets your fingers, initials swimming before your eyes. Wonwoo, Jeonghan, Lydia's, your own. They all traverse and coalesce on the expanse of broken brown wood, mingling with each other and transforming endlessly in front of your eyes. Before they have a chance to settle, a branch snaps behind you and you turn in anticipation to see who it is; a glimpse of muted fabric, a vaguely formed face, flashes in front of your vision before you are transported back to the field outside the trees–feet itching to carry you forward once again. 

You repeat this process, over and over, until the light breaking through the window above your bed stirs you to consciousness. You sigh and squirm deeper into the blankets, desperate to sink back into the embrace of dreams and avoid the inevitable disaster of the day waiting for you outside your room. 

A sharp knock on the door cuts off any hope that you had of delay. “Mama says to come down for breakfast," Lydia warns and you listen as her footsteps disappear down the staircase before slipping out of bed and preparing for the day. 

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The scent of eggs and ham greets you as you stumble down the stairs some time later; dressed in a simple frock belying the anxiety bubbling in the pit of your stomach in anticipation of the day. Your mother greets you with a cheerful “good morning”, the tone ignorant of the tension that underlay your last interactions with her. You offer her a tired smile in response–content with staying in silence for as long as possible this morning and avoiding any further bursts of anger she might provoke. It takes you a moment to notice the extra figure sitting at the table, one at the same time so familiar and unfamiliar. Wonwoo’s eyes, obscured as they are behind the glass of his spectacles, betray a similar mixture of delight and wariness at your presence. He offers you a hesitant smile over his plate of food and you feel your heart leap into your throat, mouth falling open in a silent gasp. 

“Wonwoo,” you exclaim, earning an admonishing tsk from your mother at the noise. He stands, bowing slightly in greeting–smile broadening marginally as he does so. 

“Hello,” he replies. You can hear a million different restrained thoughts and questions in the greeting. So many unspoken words it makes your stomach knot. You remain, mouth agape, standing feet away while the force of it hits you while your sister, on the other hand, laughs aloud at the look of pure alarm on your face. 

“Oh, sit down before you fall down,” she says, rolling her eyes and reaching for another roll from the centre of the table. “It’s only Wonwoo, you knew he was coming.” 

You resist the temptation to openly glare at her and instead gather yourself into the seat across from Wonwoo–returning his smile, finally, with your own. “You’re here much sooner than expected,” you say, offering it as the only excuse for your astonishment at his presence during your family breakfast. 

“I arrived rather early this morning,” he explains. The tension held in his shoulders ebbs away slowly, hesitation diminishing now that you’ve settled across from him. “Thankfully your father was awake and willing to sit down over a cup of tea.” You nod in acknowledgement. He and your father had always gotten along rather well, being of similar disposition. You would often find them sitting in silence together while your mama chased you around with her many complaints. “You look well,” he adds after a moment, a soft smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. 

He’s older now than the last time you saw him–his jaw defined by the sharpness that comes with age, the loss of the soft roundness of youth–but he still looks exactly as you remember him. His brown eyes still hold that same kindness and quiet humour that you were so fond of. His smile, though grown hesitant with years of distance, is still as bright as it always was; a warm smile, both welcoming and genuine. A smile that makes you wish you had sent that letter out years ago. Maybe it would have kept him here, with you, at this table. Maybe you could have watched these transformations occur instead of seeing them all now. Maybe you would have had time to accustom yourself to the new angle of his jaw, to the mature slant of his cheekbone. Maybe…

“I am well, thank you,” you reply, cutting off your wandering thoughts and into your breakfast. Turning away from the warmth of his gaze for a moment’s reprieve. “And you? Have you been–” Hesitation stops you in your tracks as you form the question. Keen awareness of the curious eyes at the table fixed firmly on you, intruding on this reunion with their unceasing attention. The knowledge that both your mother and sister are highly aware of the undercurrent of feelings–whether present or past–running between you stalls your speech. “Are you well?” you finish lamely, clearing your throat and gathering yourself into a state of stoicism.

“Very well, thank you,” he replies with a nod, similarly reserved. Knowing your family as he does, you’re sure he senses the shift in the atmosphere. Sure he’s adjusting himself accordingly. 

“Well,” your mother leans forward, towards Wonwoo, a conspiratorial glint in her eye as she begins speaking, “we are so glad to have you back with us after such a long time away. I can’t imagine why you didn’t visit sooner, but no matter. How long will you be staying?” 

“Only a week,” he replies, “I return to town next Sunday.” 

“And what brings you here so suddenly?” The brazenness of her question in light of everything she knows would shock you if you weren’t so used to her meddling. You bite your tongue, woefully resigned to allowing her to play out her machinations while you suffer under the brunt of them. A mere tool in her game of matchmaking and gossip-mongering. Lydia stifles a laugh next to you with a cough, drawing Wonwoo’s attention. 

“Ah,” he starts, watching you closely for any hint of caution but you remain as neutral as possible. “I had been meaning to return for years now, I’ve been too long overdue for a visit. It has been years, even, since I’ve seen my own family’s estate.” 

“I see,” your mother sighs, correcting her posture and sitting upright, disappointed by the lack of spectacle. Her desire for a dramatic breakfast proposal being thwarted, she changes topic and shifts to Wonwoo’s current business practices. How is he getting along as a barrister in town during these troubled times? He answers her inquiries, offering up tidbits of gossip from town that might interest her, and you feel a rush of gratitude towards him for so easily flowing with her changing moods and temperament. A feat not easily undertaken. 

Conversation continues late into the morning, with even your father chiming in here and there; forgoing his usual habit of staying entirely silent until reproached by your mother and instead offering up comments entirely unprovoked to the surprise and delight of the same woman who is usually provoking him. You pick at the food on your plate, watching Wonwoo from across the table even as your sister silently teases you for it from her own seat. Finally, the plates are all cleared away and you stand, ready to stretch your stiff muscles outside of the house.

“Why don’t you three kids take a walk,” your mother prompts–taking notice of your fidgeting. “I have to make preparations for dinner tonight.” 

“Oh, there’s no need to go to such trouble on my account,” Wonwoo holds his hands up as if to ward off the worst of your mother’s efforts. 

“It’s not just for you,” Lydia sighs, a sly grin tugging at the corners of her mouth, “it’s for Mr. Yoon.” 

“Who–” Wonwoo starts, glancing at you, a ripple of confusion passing over his face before your mother cuts him off. 

“Don’t be rude, Lydia,” she admonishes her, “it’s for both of you, Mr. Jeon. Mr. Yoon has become a very welcome part of our family gatherings since he arrived not two months ago.” She moves behind you, hustling the three of you out of the dining room and towards the front door in a manner befitting a sheepdog rather than a mother. “The girls will tell you all about him, I’m sure.” 

The door is closed on you before you have the chance to protest and you turn towards Wonwoo with a heavy sigh, “I guess we are taking a walk, then.” 

“Your mother certainly has not changed over all these years,” he laughs, more relaxed now that you’re away from the presence of your parents. He offers his arm for you to take as you descend down the stone path leading through the gardens and out into the fields.  The rain of the previous day is all but gone, leaving nothing but the odd puddle dotting the path as you walk along at an easy pace--grateful for the warm, golden sun as it streams down on you. 

You slip your arm through Wonwoo’s and marvel at the naturalness of the gesture. Though it’s been years since your last exchange of letters, and even longer since you last saw each other in person, the ease with which you slip back into old comforts in his presence is nothing short of remarkable. You spend the first half of the walk catching up–exchanging stories of the goings-on around the village and in town since you last spoke. Lydia walks a ways ahead of you, constantly looking back as if desperate to invite herself into the conversation before inevitably thinking better of it and turning around to resume her striding. 

The silence emanating from her is a worrisome gnat that wheedles its way into the back of your mind, but you brush it aside and focus on the feeling of your old friend back at your side. The feeling of his arm against yours, his voice no longer a mere echo in your mind, but a real sound to be heard and listened to. It feels as if he had never left; that despite the growth in each of you as a person, both physically and mentally, there had merely been a pause put on your relationship. A brief interlude that served only to bring you to this exact moment in time where you could be together again. 

The comfort is at once welcome and disconcerting. The thought of Wonwoo’s letter, the implication of his feelings, presses at the forefront of your mind alongside the image of Jeonghan with his hand outstretched towards you in the sun of the grove. As much as you want to ignore these worries, they sit there staring at you, tugging at your attention as you try and focus on what should be a joyous reunion. And as Wonwoo talks, regaling you with tales from his time at college and in his current employment, you can see those same worries brewing behind his eyes. The same hesitation keeping him from broaching either topic. You’re each waiting, hearts held on the blade of a sword. Enjoying each other's company while expecting someone to slice into it and spill the blood at any moment. 

“So,” your sister struts over to you as you sit in the grass by the river, knees tucked tight to your chest. She sits down in front of you, her skirts pooling around her in a puddle of blue and white. You brace yourself for whatever she had been planning during her extended silence on your walk. The tension built up from yesterday had still not eased and if you knew your sister as well as you thought you did, you knew she would not allow herself to be the first one to heal the rift. 

You fix her with an even stare. Careful neutrality painted on your expression in an attempt to dissuade the worst of her plotting. “Yes, Lydia?” 

“Did she tell you about Jeonghan yet?” she asks with a mirthful grin, and you feel the question jolt through your body. Wonwoo glances up at her, dropping the blade of grass he had been idly running between his fingers, and lifting a hand to adjust his glasses. 

“Ah, no,” he admits. His eyes flicker to you briefly before returning to Lydia–so quickly you might not have noticed had your own eyes not been watching him from the corner of your vision. “I don’t believe so.”

“And you’ve never met him before?” Her grin widens slightly, glee shining bright in the depths of her coal dark eyes. She was truly her mother’s daughter. 

“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure, no,” he says, tolerating the leading questions with more patience than you would have ever been able to muster. But then, he always was more patient than you. 

“So you don’t know?” she asks, smile widening even further. 

“Lydia,” you warn, using every ounce of strength and resilience in your body to resist leaping forward and tackling her to the ground before she can spoil anything further. 

The warning in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed by Wonwoo. You can feel him stiffen next to you; the fear of whatever is being left unsaid creeping under his skin and nestling there like a slumbering bear at the cusp of spring.

“Know what?” he asks, curiosity overwhelming the fear. He plucks up the thread your sister has laid bare and you know there’s no going back once she’s said what she wants to say. You want to grab him by the hand and race away–towards the trees, to a place used as solace from her nearly everyday in your youth. To hide from her and from the realities of the situation you find yourself currently stranded in. To stay in this moment in between forever. 

Lydia smiles again, pleased to command everyone’s attention so completely. You wait, the knot of anxiety in your stomach tightening, and watch Wonwoo out of the corner of your eye. Waiting to see the regret over his return show itself plain on his face. 

“They’re engaged,” she says finally, pulling the pin and leaning back on her arms to watch Wonwoo’s face fall. His mouth pulls to a thin line and you feel a cavern open up in the hollow of your chest, ready to swallow you whole. 

“Lydia,” you all but shout her name, startling a bird resting on a nearby bush and sending it flying into the air with an alarmed chirp. “We are not engaged.” 

“You might as well be,” she shouts back, balling her fists up in her skirts and fixing you with a glare, “I know that’s why he’s coming for dinner tonight.” 

“You don’t know anything,” the cold anger seething in your voice surprises you, but the buttons have been pressed and you can do nothing now except ride the wave. “I don’t know what games you’re playing, Lydia–whether you’re bored or just jealous or what–and frankly, I don’t care. It’s not funny. Leave me alone.” 

Whatever outcome she had hoped to garner from engineering this confrontation, this was not it. You watch as she picks herself up off the ground in a huff and stalks back towards the house–no doubt seeking the solace of your mother’s ever-forgiving arms. The rage subsides as she disappears from view, leaving in its wake a hollow in the pit of your stomach as you’re left staring out over the meandering creek as it carves its path through the fields. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, glancing sideways at Wonwoo. He sits still, in a state of mild shock at the outburst, and makes no indication of either moving or speaking. Birds fly overhead, singing their soprano songs as they make their way towards some unknown destination–wings disturbing the otherwise still air surrounding you. Silence stretches onwards, and you sit with your head resting on your arms, wishing you could travel back in time to prevent this from ever happening. 

But what time would you travel back to? To prevent Lydia from ever finding the letter in the first place, would you not have written it? Would you have instead bottled up those feelings that, at the time, were so overwhelming they demanded a two-page long letter to express? 

Would you go back and refuse to meet Jeonghan at the ball? Spend your time against the wall and accepting dances from the unwed sons of families you rarely associated with? 

Or would you travel back the span of a day and make peace with your sister. Approach her not from a well of anger but from a space of understanding and diplomacy–if only to smooth her ruffled feathers and prevent the fight that had been brewing in the pot of tension between you. 

The answer never comes. All of the possibilities–of what could have been or what might have been–dangle before you, but you know there is no going back; you are left now simply to pick up the pieces in the aftermath of what is. 

Wonwoo breaks the tense silence himself after a few minutes. “Is it true?” he asks, the potent mixture of hope and fear in his voice sends a pang of guilt through your heart–piercing the already bruised organ further at the sound. 

“We’re not engaged,” you say, unsure of how else to phrase the inbetween state of being that exists between you and Jeonghan. That period of time when both of you know what the next step is but still have not moved a muscle to take it. 

“Why did you send the letter?” He asks, twisting the knife of guilt and shame further and deeper into you with the tone of despair leaking out over every word. You turn to look at him, meeting his gaze head on to see the heartbreak glistening in his warm, brown eyes. 

The threat of tears prick behind your own as you look at him, desperately searching your brain for an answer that will make all of this go away–but none surface. Instead you are left with nothing but a confused tangle of emotions churning inside of you, clouding your thoughts with the force of them. You brace yourself for his possible reaction to the truth, averting your eyes back towards the blue river, “I didn’t send it.” The confession rolls out of your mouth like a prayer for peace and you can hear Wonwoo’s sharp intake of air as he takes a steadying breath beside you. 

“Do you love him?” The question hangs in the air between you, bringing you at once closer together with the weight of it and thrusting you further apart in the implication. 

“I don’t know,” you had never been able to lie around Wonwoo. Not since you were children, forcing him to steal bread and cheese from the kitchens with you for your own tea parties in the garden. Not since you were youths of twelve telling each other your deepest secrets as you laid next to each other in the field watching the clouds pass overhead. The truth, however painful it may be, was always the only route you were ever able to take when held under the weight of his gaze–transfixed by the warmth in his honeydark eyes. 

“Could you love him?” 

“Yes,” you sigh, nodding. “I could.” 

His next question comes out as a whisper, barely heard of the sound of the water below and the birds overhead--almost as if he was too afraid to ask it, “do you love me?” 

What could you say? What answer was there to give? ‘Of course, Wonwoo, you’re my best friend.’ While it remains true, you know that it isn’t what he’s asking you; you can read the deeper meaning hidden in the question, you know the significance of the words he is choosing. You turn towards him, twisting the knife in your heart one final time, severing completely the hope he had sent by letter. “I don’t know.” 

Another moment of silence passes. You stare unblinking over the horizon, waiting for the rain clouds to form in the blue expanse overhead–to match your mood with their dreary presence–but the sky remains unashamedly clear. 

Wonwoo lets out a long sigh beside you. You keep your gaze forward as you feel him stand up until he reaches a hand out to help you up. You glance from his hand to his face in surprise at the gesture after your confession, but he just smiles down at you sadly. “Come on,” he prompts and you slip your hand into his hand. 

“Where are we going?” you ask, unclear as to his intentions now that everything has been laid bare under the afternoon sun. 

“I’m walking you home,” he says simply, before pulling you to your feet and heading back down the path away from the running water and golden fields of wheat. 

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The afternoon drags on, spent in the midst of an uncomfortable silence in the parlour with your sister and mother. Wonwoo excused himself to his family home shortly after returning back under the guise of getting ready for dinner. A part of you had been expecting him to feign illness and retire for the entirety of the evening, but no doubt the pressure of social graces–as well as his own unwavering politeness–entreated him to keep the engagement. 

The book open between your hands may as well be blank for all the attention you’re paying it; your mind swims with thoughts of your fight with your sister, and of the subsequent conversation with Wonwoo–replaying it over and over relentlessly. His face, crestfallen and sad, lingers in the forefront of your mind–a portrait reminder of the sharp ache in the centre of your chest. Lydia sits across from you, puncturing the fabric of her needlework aimlessly as she switches between pouting and glaring in your direction while your mother pointedly ignores you both in favour of hemming the dress her own sister recently passed down to her. 

Your father, attuned as usual to the shifting moods of the house, avoids the parlour entirely. 

The silent contemplation brings you no sense of reprieve by the time Jeonghan arrives for the evening. Hours spent pondering your options–alternating back and forth between him and Wonwoo and your confused feelings for both men–have brought no clear conclusion forward. In the wake of the afternoon, you prepare yourself for what was sure to be a bizarre dinner party, begging your mother not to sit you next to Lydia at the table for everyone’s sake. 

Thankfully she obliges, seating you instead between Wonwoo and Jeonghan for her own amusement–the latter of which being entirely unaware of the state of affairs he is about to enter into with this dinner. The table is set, the people are seated, and your mother begins with an overwhelmingly passionate monologue of gratitude towards the two young gentlemen joining your family that evening. 

“Mr. Jeon,” she smiles, passing a bowl of potatoes towards him, “how happy we are to see you at long last back home, as I already said this morning.” You roll your eyes at the emphatic speech, catching the gaze of your sister in a similar state of reproach and almost laughing with her before you correct yourself and turn back towards your plate of food. “I do so hope you will be back to visit much more in the future.”

“Of course,” Wonwoo nods his gratitude towards her, a placating smile stretching over his lips as he passes the bowl towards his aunt who had invited herself over as soon as she heard about the occasion. 

“I’ve already admonished him, Gloria,” she laughs, scooping a healthy serving of the starchy vegetable onto her own plate before handing it off down the line. “It has been far too long since I have seen my nephew and what does he do when he arrives? He comes to your estate for breakfast without even first saying hello to anyone in his own family.” She shakes her head and shares another laugh with your mother. They are, as always, two birds of a feather when in the company of each other–delighting in gossip and unwarranted comments as often as they can catch a breath to share them. 

“Now, Mr. Yoon,” your mother shifts her attention towards the man at your right side, smiling at him as if he were a newborn baby, “I am saddened to hear that you have to leave us so soon, but we have very much enjoyed your company these past few months and do so hope you will be back again soon.” 

“Of course,” he returns her smile with his own. You can feel the heat of his thigh next to your own under the table, the closeness of him on your one side and Wonwoo on the other nearly suffocating you in your seat. “There is a lot to come back for.” 

The comment doesn’t go unnoticed by either your sister, who has to feign a brief coughing fit to cover her laughter, or Wonwoo whose hand tenses around the fork in his grasp even as his expression remains impassive. The conversation is dissolved and dispersed amongst the table throughout the meal; your father catches Jeonghan’s attention and, unusually talkative, entreats him with a renewed discussion of the progress on the new mill’s construction. Both family matriarchs trade local gossip, as well as any anecdotes they can remember from the most recent ball, to keep each other entertained while you and Wonwoo sit in abject silence next to each other–eyes focused on the food on your plates in front of you. 

Everyone retires to the parlour after dinner, mingling in small groups with you and your sister sitting in silence at the edge of room–watching as your mother’s laugh grows louder with the heat of wine and your father’s passionate discussions about the price of rye take on a life of their own, while Jeonghan just nods patiently and listens. Gravity and familiarity pull the two of you closer together, seeking some solace in each other as the only two outsiders in your own home. 

“You were right,” she heaves a sigh, turning to you with a brief glance. 

“What was I right about?” You keep your eyes trained towards the room, watching as Wonwoo and Jeonghan strike up a conversation with each other and desperately wishing you were close enough to be able to hear what they were discussing. Lydia calls your attention back to her with a dramatic sigh. 

“I was jealous,” she admits and you look at her in surprise at the frank confession. “It was stupid, and I’m sorry. In my defence I didn’t know it was going to be so–” she pauses, waving a hand in a dramatic gesture towards the rest of the room, “dramatic.” 

You choke back a bark of astonished laughter, completely at odds with how you had been feeling for the first portion of the evening; all fight had been entirely drained out of you and despite the desire to continue dragging her over the coals for her sin, you give in to the shared bond that exists between you as sisters. “Me either,” you say simply.

“Do you forgive me?” she asks, a spark of hope lighting up her voice at your acceptance of her excuse and you laugh. 

“No,” you reply, grinning at her, “but I will.” 

“I suppose I can accept that,” she nods once, smiling back at you before drifting towards your mother and inserting herself into a conversation around pregnancy rumours in the village–a topic that is sure to keep all three of them enraptured for the remainder of the evening, as nothing is more exciting than the threat of children to women who have none to worry over anymore.

Left alone, you wander towards Wonwoo and Jeonghan; buoyed by the reconciliation with your sister and resigned to swallowing the rest of your fate as it stands before you. “Are we still discussing mills and rye?” you ask, nodding towards your father who has taken it upon himself to sink into silence with a book in front of the fire, having exhausted all avenues of conversation that he is even remotely invested in. 

Jeonghan laughs, shaking his head with a mock grimace, “no, actually. As it turns out, once you’ve already talked about the price of grain for well over an hour, there isn’t much left to be said.” 

Wonwoo nods, laughing–all hint of earlier heartbreak has washed clean from his expression for the moment and you can see that he and Jeonghan are getting along despite themselves. The confusion returns anew, revitalised in your mind, and you can’t be sure whether this development is good or bad even as you stand by to watch it unfold. 

“No,” Wonwoo says, “I was just asking him about his time in London.” 

“A truly horrible place,” Jeonghan shudders at the thought of the city, drawing another laugh forward from Wonwoo and plucking another thread of nerves inside your throat. “No, I am quite happy to be away from there for the time being. The peace and quiet of the countryside suits me, I think.” 

“It is certainly quiet,” Wonwoo nods just as a loud bout of laughter sounds out from the group of women on the settee near the fireplace, a wry smile dancing on his lips. 

“And you are from here originally?” Jeonghan asks, glancing over at Wonwoo’s aunt as she stands to deliver her well practised imitation of one of the other mamas from the village. 

“Yes, we grew up together,” he nods, gesturing towards you with the reply. Jeonghan glances between you, the new knowledge clicking into place in the wheels of his mind. 

“You must have a lot of stories from that time,” he says, following the thought. You watch it spin behind the firelit brown of his eyes. 

“Many, yes. We spent a lot of our time together,” Wonwoo affirms, and the truth of the statement sinks into you as he says it. Your past is filled with memories of him–painted with images of him splayed out in the fields, or leaping into the water, or simply falling asleep at the breakfast table after a sleepless night spent reading by candlelight. “If you want,” Wonwoo muses, lifting a hand to his chin with a sly grin, “I can tell you about the time she lost her shoe in the–”

“Stop,” you reach a hand out in panic, yanked unceremoniously out of your memories by the suggestion, and grab onto Wonwoo’s arm to cut off the story before it can begin. “No one wants to hear that story,” you let out a nervous laugh.

“I don’t know, I wouldn’t mind hearing it,” Jeonghan says, glancing down where your hand sits lingering on Wonwoo’s arm; you pull it back to your side and resign yourself to the embarrassment that is sure to follow. He turns his attention back towards Wonwoo as he begins the story–more than happy to offer up your pain as an anecdote for the evening. 

“We were having a foot race through the fields after a particularly intense summer storm,” he begins with and you groan inwardly, already dreading the narrative that you know will follow, “of course her skirts were at least an inch deep in the mud and were weighing her down rather heavily,” the story continues and Jeonghan stands as a ready audience as Wonwoo weaves the image together for him. You can picture that day so clearly in your mind, the feeling of the mud sucking you down into the field, Wonwoo nearly tearing your sleeve off while trying to pull you out, and then diving in to rescue the shoe that you were sure your mother would kill you for if she knew you had lost it. 

The rain beating down on you as Wonwoo carried you on his back towards the house–tears streaming down your face and the both of you covered head to toe in mud which earned you an, admittedly deserved, verbal lashing from your parents as soon as you tracked it inside. 

“I must say,” Jeonghan looks towards you when the story comes to its conclusion, laughing softly at the thought, “I can’t quite picture it.”

“Why not?” you ask, curious as to the reason behind his statement. 

“I suppose,” he pauses for a moment in thought, “you seem much more put together now. I can’t picture you as a wild child.” 

Wonwoo snorts, as if some inside joke has been shared, and shoots you a conspiratorial glance, “she’s definitely much more put together now.”

“Well, I’m glad you two have had fun bonding over my embarrassment,” you sigh. The clock on the wall chimes the hour and you see from the corner of your eye your father yawning wide over his book. Even the laughter and chatter from the other women in the room has died down–everyone now sporting a tired, weary expression in the lateness of the evening. 

Wonwoo’s aunt stands, thanking your parents profusely for the meal and the bed, before retiring upstairs to the guest rooms. Your mother and sister follow her in short order, with your father not too far behind, ushering the three of you towards bed as well. The wooden floors of the stairs creak under the weight as everyone files up towards their respective rooms for the evening; the house has not seen this many guests since the last time your cousins stayed with you, and despite the bizarre circumstances you were grateful for the company as a welcome change of pace from the everyday routine. 

You slip into bed after saying your goodnights and feel the weight of the day sinking into you. Left in solitude finally after hours of entertaining company, your thoughts return to the circular confusion that had been clouding your mind before dinner. They flicker back and forth between faces–Wonwoo, Jeonghan, Wonwoo, Jeonghan–both men swimming up to eclipse all your thoughts once again. You remember Jeonghan as he was the day you met him, cheerful and witty in the presence of a room full of strangers. The best company you had kept in months–more than willing to converse and joke with the ease of someone you could have known for years. 

And you remember Wonwoo, as he was when you were children–bright, kind, and willing to go along with every place you could cook up despite his own shyness and reserve. And you remember him as he was today, beside the creek in the fields; bathed in the light of the afternoon sun, face fallen in the wake of your confession. He had come all this way on the wings of hope towards you after years of separation, and you had to be the one to ground him with reality. Not once, in all your years of knowing him had you seen that expression on his face until today. 

Sleep consumes you after you exhaust your cyclical thoughts; you pray for a dreamless slumber–only too ready to sink into the relief of darkness–and for once, your prayers are granted. 

.

.

.

The house is abuzz with activity in the morning. Everyone wakes for breakfast early, eager to continue last night’s conversations or to strike up new ones, and you feel renewed after a blessedly restful sleep. The weight of indecision still rests heavy on your heart, but it isn’t as cloying and suffocating as it had been the night before–trapped between Wonwoo and Jeonghan at the table all while wrestling with your own thoughts. Instead you find yourself smiling more easily, even laughing openly at your sister’s jokes over breakfast. Relief washes through you at the reprieve from your tortured feelings until the meal once again comes to an end and Jeonghan stands, turning towards you with a question. “If I may,” he begins, capturing the attention of everyone still seated despite the attempt at keeping his voice to a low volume. “Could I request the privilege of an audience with you,” uncharacteristic nervousness shimmers in his voice and you feel it similarly ripple through your body, “alone?” 

In a rush your mother stands, abandoning her half-cut slice of ham and ushering everyone out of the dining room with glee and answers for you. “Of course, of course,” you sit paralyzed, your own nerves tying a knot inside your throat as you watch them leave the room. Wonwoo looks back at you, meeting your eyes with his own worried gaze before the door is closed and you are left in silence as Jeonghan gathers his thoughts to speak. 

“It should come as no surprise,” he begins, and you stand to face him–eyes slightly averted from his own to avoid the intensity of the moment, “that I–” he pauses, hesitating. The nerves that were in his voice before have built to a fine point and you watch his hands as they clench and unclench into fists at his side. 

“Jeonghan,” you start, hoping to offer some words to ease the palpable tension in the air but coming up entirely speechless. 

“I return to town soon, and I was hoping you would also–” he sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration before giving up on whatever speech he had half-planned. “I love you,” he says, plainly, brown eyes seeking yours for any confirmation of the feelings he wishes to be returned, “quite a lot, actually, and I had to ask before I left if you feel the same, if–” he inhales, breath shaking with the force of his confession–with the fear of rejection or acceptance or both. “If you would do me the honour of marrying me?” 

The question hangs between you–caught in limbo as you ponder it. You had expected it, as much as you had tried to ignore that expectancy, it was there. Standing here, in the centre of your family’s dining room facing him now–the buzzing excitement, the sweeping sense of anticipation, and warmth that you felt before–it’s all miles away. The hope you had previously held for this exact moment is racing away through the fields, running free and far from you. The feelings that bore the hope exist still, they sit nestled in your heart, but they aren’t attached to Jeonghan; here in the light of day you finally come to the realisation that you have known all along where your heart belongs. 

It belongs in the fields of your childhood, running through the mud with your hand clasped tight in Wonwoo’s firm grip. It belongs at the feet of the boy who promised you at thirteen years old that he would never let you go. It belongs to someone on the other side of the door from you–whose heart you shattered only a day prior. 

Jeonghan stands silent–waiting for your response–and you wish in this moment you could give him something other than the truth that has formed on your lips, but it has broken free into the air between you before you can catch it. “I’m sorry,” you say, “I wish I could. I really do, but–”

He smiles, the expression not quite meeting his eyes as he nods in understanding, “I know.” The resignation in his voice catches you off guard and he laughs at your surprise, “I knew last night that this was a losing game for me, but still,” he sighs, “I had to ask.” 

“So,” you start, at a loss for what social decorum expects of you in this situation. Sinking into the relief of his acceptance of your rejection. “What will you do now?” 

He pauses a moment in thought, fixing his gaze on the ceiling before turning back to you with a slight grin, “maybe I will invest in the new mill.” 

Laughter cuts through the tension, dissolving the atmosphere of the room back into one of calm camaraderie, “I really am sorry, Jeonghan. For what it’s worth, if you had asked me five days ago I would have said yes.” 

“Missed my chance, then,” he smiles sadly, turning towards the door only to have it swing open under the weight of your mother and sister pressing against it. “Thank you for your hospitality, ma’am,” he bows towards your mother and, before she has a chance to inquire, leaves through the front door and heads off into the morning sun. 

“You rejected him?” your mother asks, surprise and astonishment colouring her voice. She glances between you and the door as it closes behind Jeonghan, mouth agape. 

“Where’s Wonwoo?” you ask, taking note of the absence of him from the small group gathered at the door to the dining room. They all glance around at each other, matching bewildered expressions, until, with a roll of your eyes, you push through them and head out the front door–propriety be damned. 

For a moment you hesitate; you have no idea where he might have gone in the span of time you spent talking to Jeonghan but a voice in the back of your mind directs you across the golden fields towards that old familiar grove of trees. Your mother and sister, accompanied by Wonwoo’s aunt, hover at the front step of the house, watching as you stride through the tall grass, through the stalks of wheat, past the cows and sheep, and towards the greenery beyond. 

You pause at the entrance to the grove, framed by old willow trees and inhale a steadying breath. Your feet sink into the soft earth as you step into the shade of the trees and you see Wonwoo standing, as you half-expected he would be, next to the gnarled oak tree in the centre of the clearing. A small smile plays at the corners of your lips as you approach him in silence, startling him when you come to a stop beside him–eyes trained on the carved heart in the rough, brown bark. 

“Do you remember when we did this?” he asks, tracing a finger over the old memory. You nod, waiting for him to continue the story, “a month before I left for town.”

“I remember.” 

“You told me I wasn’t allowed to leave without first promising to come back when we were older,” he laughs–a light, breathless laugh. “Do you remember that?” 

“I do,” you nod, turning towards him. “I remember you saying you would always come back for me.” 

“Right,” he nods, removing his hand from the wood of the tree and straightening his posture. You stand for a moment, in the silence of the morning broken only by the chirping of nesting birds in the treetops above. The shared memory lingers between you–wrapping you together in a knot of knowing. A knowing of each other, unlike anyone else–shared history, shared memories, shared feelings. 

“Are you going to marry him?” Wonwoo asks, breaking the silence first and glancing at you–fear of your unspoken answer, of what he imagines it might be, dancing in his brown eyes as he stands in the sun-dappled wood. You can’t help but feel strange in this moment, standing with the boy you’ve stood with so many times surrounded by these same trees. He looks the same–older, yes–but the same. The same brown eyes alight with hope and love, the same golden skin glistening in the light of the sun, the same tremor in his voice as he gives voice to a question that he fears the answer to. 

You pause a moment in thought. “Jeonghan would make an excellent husband,” you say, consdiering the possibility out loud. Wonwoo's face falls; a subtle almost imperceptible shift in his expression. Fear of an unknown solidifying into fear of an almost certainty in his mind.

He clears his throat, nodding, "he would." The tremor in his voice remains even as he tries to hide it, speaking softly and trying to steel his gaze. "You would be," he stammers, averting his eyes back towards the bark of the tree, “you would be an excellent match."

"We would, but Wonwoo," you say, catching his attention again with the mention of his name. You capture his gaze once more as you take a step forward, closing the distance between you. Your fingers itch to reach out and take his hand in yours; standing here alone in the middle of a copse of trees you're already laughing in the face of all decency. All it would take is one of you to reach out–skin to skin–as you had when you were children. Without care, without worry. No thought to anything save the moment. Save the feeling that trembles in the space between you. 

"Wonwoo," you begin again, steadying your hands at your side, "how could I marry him when I'm still in love with you?"

The dawn of realisation breaks over his face–clearing away the storm clouds that had been brewing behind his eyes–and his mouth falls open in silent shock. You stand there, bathed in the golden light of the morning sun as it filters through the tops of the trees overhead. Trees that have witnessed your growth together through life; running wild as children, escaping your parents as youths, and sharing your first, fumbling kiss at fourteen years old after racing each other through the rain to the solace of the grove. Trees that now stand witness as Wonwoo finally speaks, breaking the silence that had stretched taut between you for a moment–a silence filled with so many unspoken memories and words. “Can I kiss you?” he asks, voice a mere breath in the air; if you hadn’t been standing so close already you might not have heard him. 

You reach forward, allowing your itching fingers to finally grasp onto his–the shock of his warm hands in your own sending a chill over your body. Slowly, you raise his hand to your lips and press a chaste kiss to the knuckles, murmuring a soft “yes,” into his skin there. 

All the awkwardness of youth is gone; the stiff hands, the hesitation, all of it melts into the past as Wonwoo raises a gentle hand to your cheek, bringing you towards him. A sharp inhale in the wake of anticipation, and then your lips meet. His warmth sinks into you as you press forward into the kiss, deepening it as you feel the flood of feelings held back for years pour forth.

Wonwoo pulls back with a smile that lights up the browns of his irises as he looks at you. “What would your mother think of this?” he teases, entwining his fingers with yours. 

“Don’t ruin this please,” you grimace, and he laughs–bright and clear before pulling you back to him. You feel his smile against your lips and sink into the warmth of it, wrapping your arms around him and allowing the world outside to melt away. No thoughts of your family, no thoughts of your past, no thoughts of the future–just here and now, in the arms of the one you’ve loved and waited for. 

And it’s in this moment, as Wonwoo encircles you in his arms, that you know you’ve made the right choice. 

© 2024, neoneun-au. all rights reserved.

if you enjoyed this story, please consider reblogging and letting me know. its what keeps me writing

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: anon request - "y/n (she's dating Colby?) is with them when they finally go to the basement in the conjuring video and y/n tells him she went to the basement without them like how Sam did and he gets super upset/mad at her?"

This one shot will contain things some readers might find unsettling and/or triggering.  PLEASE DONT READ IF THIS IS SOMETHING YOU'RE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH!!

Warnings include: strong language, being alone in the conjuring house basement, reader being touched and spoken to, hair pulling, pushing, reader feeling like they're being controlled by spirits, reader having visions, angry Colby, mild fighting, arguing, mentions of puking, general spooky stuff - read with care my lovelies ily! 

I will be using Sam and Colby's SAWATCH Part 3: The Basement as reference in this one shot but only for when the three go to the gravesite and then into the basement together. I will be adding some stuff in to make it flow since the reader is being written in, so everything won't be 100% accurate to the video itself.

Word count: little over 13.k | not edited 

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

You don't know how Sam and Colby were asleep right now. You don't know why you even agreed to coming here for a few nights - if you can even last that long. 

Maybe because you were more worried about Colby? 

Maybe because you were actually really interested in the history that surrounds the house itself? 

You were also an investigator. You'd think you'd be used to this stuff by now? But you're not. Nothing could have prepared you for what this house holds within the walls. 

You sit up, glancing over at Colby who's softly snoring on his cot that, is in fact, under the table like he said he was going to do. You smile slightly as you lay back down, snuggling into your blanket.

You try to remind yourself that Abigail is there to protect you, and that helps, but only a little bit. 

You suddenly felt a chill roll over your body, one that a few blankets wouldn't be able to calm. 

"Y/n." 

You slowly turn over on to your back, sitting up slowly, "Colby?" You whisper, but he doesn't move, "Sam?" He continues to lay there and you take a deep breath, realizing that it wasn't them who said your name. 

"Y/n." 

Your head tilts slowly as you watch a figure walk past the door frame, left to right, "Hello?" You call out quietly, but nothing answers. 

Sam stirs in his sleep slightly, but nothing drastic. 

Your eyes shoot back up to the door as you felt like you seen something in the corner of your eye, a face peaking around. 

The spin chilling creak of a door opening slowly causes you to freeze, even your breath is held. 

You stare at the dark opening for a few seconds before letting out the breath you've been holding. 

You go to lay back down and you hear another whisper, "Go." 

Your legs swing over the edge, feet planted flat on the floor as your hands move the blanket. Your stare is held on the darkness on the other side of the dimly lit door frame. 

Mind on one thing. The basement.

You walk past Sam's cot, glancing back at Colby before slowly looking back into the darkness. 

You know you shouldn't go down there at all, let alone by yourself. 

Colby made you and Sam both promise not to go down there before going together. He even promised both of you that he wouldn't either. 

As you round the corner, you stop as your eyes fixate on the specific door - that you know for a fact opened by something that wants you down there. 

Are you going? 

You wish you didn't, but you feel like you don't have any other choice. 

You walk over to the door, placing a hand on the knob as you look around the door and down the lit stairwell. 

Without taking another glance back towards the boys, you're heading down to the basement. 

Alone. 

But in reality. You're never alone when you're at the conjuring house.

You step gently on each step, careful not to make any loud noise. As you reach the small platform mid way, you stop, staring at the half lit room. 

Part of you wants to turn around, high tail it back up the steps and go back to bed, but a bigger part of you wanted to try and get answers. 

You wanted to know why, ever since you arrived, the basement has been - literally, calling your name. 

You didn't want to give them, too much of your trust, no matter how human they sound.

"Abigail. Are you here with me?" You whisper, snapping your head to the table and chairs when a knocking sound comes from that area, "Knock again if that was you." 

Another knock sounds and you walk over, slowly sitting down in the chair. Your eyes move from the well back to the table, "why am I here?" 

"The woods." 

Your body settles back into the chair and you get a sudden flash of the tree line, "The woods." You repeat, but in a much quieter tone, "Why?" 

"Meet us." 

You tilt your head, smiling slightly, "You're the trickster, Dave. Aren't you?" 

It's silent for a few second, but then you're left in total darkness as the light turns off. 

You can feel your heart rate pick up slightly, "I'm not going to the woods alone." Something clinks on the ground and you blow air through your nose, "Dave. Did you call me down here?"

You feel a light brush on your shoulder, but you don't jump. Something in you knew it was a loving touch, from Abigail. 

"Do you want me to leave?" You lay your hands flat on the table, getting ready to stand up. A loud whisper in your hear causes you to sit right back down, "No!" 

You close your eyes, slowly reopening them. You turn towards the direction of the stairs, staring for a few seconds before turning back to the table.

How did I get here, you think to yourself, but you already knew the answer to that. 

Even though you were fully aware of what you were doing and what was happening around you, you didn't feel like you right now. 

You knew you were sitting in the place you shouldn't be, but it's like you didn't have control over your mind and body. 

As you're sitting there waiting for anything else to happen, you get a chill up your spine, and a feeling in the pit of your stomach that you cannot shake off. 

You hear foot steps upstairs and your eyes are glued to the ceiling, waiting for either Sam or Colby to call for you, but nothing sounds. 

As you turn your head, you get a quick vision of a soldier standing outside of the upstairs window, looking in. 

"Are they watching Sam and Colby?" You ask and you can feel your hands start to shake. You wait for an answer but then it feels like you were released from your hold. 

You shake your head and take a deep breath, "What am I doing here?" You stand up, laughing slightly as you turn to walk towards the steps. 

Footsteps sounding behind you cause internal panic, now that you're.. yourself again. 

You book it up the steps, quickly turning out to close the door and holding it closed for a few seconds before you turn and make your way back to where the boys were. 

Still sound asleep. 

You push your cot closer to Colby, what just happened in the basement haunting you. You lay down, facing him and basically bury yourself in the blanket. 

Every little noise causes your body to jump ever so slightly. 

Why did I do that? 

Why did I break a promise? 

It wasn't you, you try to convince yourself, it wasn't you. 

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You barely got any sleep the rest of the night. You were awake when you hear Sam stir around and sit up. 

You closed your eyes, pretending to be asleep. 

Colby moves his arm from over your body and you pretend to stir. He brushes hair from your face, "Hey." 

You open your eyes, pretending that you just woke up, "Mm, hi." 

"Get scared last night?" Colby asks with a quiet chuckle and your heart starts to pound, "Yeah, I couldn't really sleep without being close to you." 

He nods, "It's understandable." He leans in, pecking your forehead with his lips. You sit up, forcing a stretch before standing up to move your cot. 

"How'd everyone sleep?" Sam asks slipping on his sweatshirt. 

"I honestly don't think I woke up once." Colby stands up, stretching, "I think someone got a little spooked in the middle of the night." 

He nods towards you and you laugh slightly, trying to cover up your nervousness, "Yeah. It was pretty creepy." 

"Glad to know that there was a cuddle party going on while I was over here all alone, hot and ready for whatever wanted to drag me away." Sam holds his arms out, trying not to laugh, "What the fuck?" 

Colby tilts his head, walking over and hugging Sam, "Oh I'm so sorry, brother. Come here." He squeezes him and you laugh, shaking your head as you grab your little travel bag and head for the bathroom. 

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You felt different all day and you were scared either of them would pick up on it, more Colby than anything. 

You kept drifting off, thinking about everything that happened when you were down there. How you felt, what you heard. 

You were torn between telling Colby and just waiting until they were done filming for the night, but at the same time, he'd probably find out regardless because of the cameras the owners have set up in the corners of the house. 

So you decided it'd be better to tell him sooner rather than later, but that was going to have to wait as you were on your way to check out the graveyard. 

You kept thinking about how mad Colby was going to be. He was going to be far from happy. You hated when you argued, which honestly wasn't that often, but you knew this was going to be a big one. 

"Hey." Sam bumps into you, "You alright?" 

You look up at him, "Oh yeah. I'm just anxious because of the woods and it being dark, ya know?" 

He nods, "I know what you mean. I'm actually quite nervous myself." He chuckles and looks behind him, "You ready Colby?" 

Colby walks up, wrapping his arm around your waist, "Yes." He nods, "I am." 

You lay your head on his shoulder, taking in the happy Colby as much as you can before your words, eventually, ruin his mood. 

Sam turns the camera on, light shining towards Colby as he walks forward, "Before we go to the grave site, we thought we'd stop where I talked to Dave, under the Estes method, earlier this week." 

You follow behind them, shining your light on the trees. You feel like your eyes are playing heavy tricks on you, but after that night, you just felt like you were going nuts. 

"So again." Colby's voice causes you to snap out of your thoughts and you walk up next to Sam as Colby continues talking, "After the past few days, we've heard the name, Dave." He points, "Specifically, super clear, on the Alice box, in the forest over there when we camped out. But, we were introduced to him right around these graves, so.." 

Colby steps back, opening his arms as he moves around, looking side to side, "Dave.. if you're around, or any other soldiers. Feel free to follow if you can hear me." 

"We have a long hike." Sam says and you groan, "Oh great." 

Colby chuckles, "I mean the last investigation last night.." he looks at Sam, "Come find out? Thats like, the scariest thing they can say." 

Sam laughs, "that's like, the most ominous thing any spirit has ever told us." 

As you walk, you keep hearing things in the woods behind you, "Jesus fuck." You whisper, walking quicker to be closer to Colby. 

He reaches his hand back, wiggling his fingers for you to take his hand. 

You grip his hand, not letting go for anything. You shine your flashlight with your other hand and it starts to flicker before going out then turning right back on.  

Sam and Colby stop, turning back to look at you then down to your flash light. 

"I'm not even going to say anything." Sam says and you nod once, "please don't." 

Colby squeezes your hand and you look up at him, smiling slightly at him, "You're good." He nods, "I got you." 

That made you feel ten times worse. 

You feel like you could puke. 

Your nerves, between the basement and walking through the woods you were warned not to go into, were almost shot. 

"Here's what scares me.." Colby starts out as he stops walking. You let go of his hand as Sam turns the camera to him, "Most of the spirits have these, like quiet knocks, but the one downstairs was way louder. It had more power. It had more energy, and we were on concrete." 

"Last time we were.. in the woods, the only things we really heard was that it wanted to attack and stalk us.." 

Sam's words cause your heart to beat faster - now you really felt like you were going to puke. 

What if you're what they, the spirits, were attacking, stalking? 

You feel dizzy, but you weren't sure if it was from the woods or just your guilty conscience. 

".. man in the woods might be following us right now." Sam finishes and you lay a hand on your head, thinking that it might just be whoever Sam is talking about. 

"Y/n." Colby's voice causes you to lift your head, "Are you okay?" He walks up to you and Sam shines the light on you, "What's going on?" 

"I'm just.. dizzy right now." You shrug, "It started when Sam said they wanted to attack and stalk us." 

Now you're just totally confused on why you're dizzy because there's a dozen things that could be causing your dizziness right now. 

Colby wraps an arm around you, "Do you need to sit or anything?" 

You shake your head, "It went away now, let's just keep moving." You motion forward and you all walk on. 

A little bit later, you push through some brush and Colby shines his light, "Oh god. Where'd the path go?" 

Sam turns around, "This is where we came from, but there's three paths." 

"Pink ribbons right?" Colby asks and Sam nods, "Yeah I think, they're supposed to be pink ribbons." 

"There's a blue ribbon over here." Colby shines his light and Sam walks down another path, "I can't see anything down here." 

You follow Colby and he yells to Sam, "Oh, here we go. Here we go!" 

"Pink?" Sam asks walking over and Colby nods, looking back towards him, "Yeah." 

Colby grabs your hand, leading you down the path as Sam points the camera to the pink ribbon on the tree. 

"It's like a river up here." Colby says, "Oh I remember this from two years ago!" 

"Yeah isn't there some sort of.. like pond? Or something?" Sam asks and you stare at the ground, trying not to trip over the rocks that are sticking out. 

"It's right there." Colby points and Sam nods, "Oh, oh oh yeah! I-I just remembered going to the side of that. So we just gotta figure out - Wait." Sam says and you jump slightly as he turns the camera towards you. You laugh, "Just frogs, Sam." 

"Oh god, that scared the fuck out of me." Sam laughs slightly you guys keep walking. 

"Okay so you said this way?" Colby points his flashlight and Sam nods, "Well, we just gotta get to the other side of this." He points, "If I remember." 

As you're walking through trees, Colby shines his light, "Oh yeah pink ribbon." 

"Pink ribb-" Sam stops, "Wait." You and Colby stop, both looking at Sam as he walks up to Colby, "What the fuck was that dude?" 

Colby looks at him confused. 

"I hear two of your voice, like in that research section.. where like, it echoed." Sam says and Colby looks out in  front of him, "Hello?" 

Sam pans the camera and you guys wait for a second before Sam shrugs, "I don't know, that was weird." He sighs, "Let's keep going." 

"I don't know why I agreed to coming here." You shake your head, laughing. Colby stops waiting for you to catch up to him and he leans in, kissing your head as he gives you side hug, "You love the adventure." 

You smile, nodding, "Yeah, I guess so." 

After a little bit more walking, the feeling of it being just the three of you, quickly started to subdue. 

"We are really in the middle of nowhere." Sam says and Colby blows out air, "We've been walking, guys, for like ten minutes maybe? Fifteen?" 

"fifteen." Sam nods, "Yeah probably. I just checked though, we have zero service, too." 

Sam pans the camera, "We are really out in the middle of the woods, alone." 

Suddenly a noise from the woods catches all of your attention, getting you all to stop in your tracks. 

"What the fuck was that?" Sam whispers and Colby shrugs, whispering quickly, "Wait, whoa whoa." He turns, pointing to the woods. 

Sam steps around and you move close to Sam. 

"What? What was that?" Sam whispers and Colby presses his finger to his lips before pointing, and staring out at the woods. 

Sam pans the camera to the direction Colby's pointing. 

All you hear right now is the crickets and buzzing of other insects. 

You feel a slightly eerie feeling wash over your body and you take a quiet and slow deep breath. 

Colby's stare is held on the woods as he brings his hand to the side of his neck, "Alright, let's just.. keep moving, I guess?" 

You walk down the dark path, all on high alert. 

The woods were scary, and being told not to go there was even scarier. 

"I think I see it." Colby said and you feel a slight bit of relief, mainly because you were over walking right now. 

"What?" Sam questions and Colby shines his light ahead of him more, "I think that is it up here." 

"Oh fuck dude." Sam says and you and Colby stop and look at Sam. 

"What?" You and Colby say in unison. 

"This-this light just died." Sam says and you take a deep breath as you tilt your head back, "Great." 

"You're lying." Colby says, walking up to Sam. Sam shakes his head, "No this light had like thirty five minutes of battery left.. look at it." 

Colby walks up to Sam and looks down at the camera that's pointed to the ground, "Let me look." 

"Look. It's out of battery." Sam states and Colby shakes his head, "Okay. Let me film that because no body is going to believe that." 

"Right there." Sam points to the screen, "That is actually so strange." 

"Is this one charged at least." Colby questions and you lay a hand on your forehead, looking around. You feel eyes on you but you don't see anything whatsoever. 

"Yeah, that one is charged." Sam nods, "That's the graveyard?"

"I think." Colby answers and Sam points to the camera, "And this just died?" 

"What the fuck." You mumble, running a hand through your hair, "what the fuck." 

There's a sound behind you and you all turn around, "What was that?" Sam whispers and you shrug, staring out into the woods. 

Sam lays his arm over you, moving you back with him as he steps backwards, "Footsteps, footsteps." 

Colby grabs your hand, pulling you with him as you run away from where the sound came from. 

"I'm just scared of like, what's taking the energy. Like why did we get lured out here? And then what's like-" 

Sam cuts Colby off, "Wait, dude. What if all of our lights just go out? Like there's no way we're gonna be able to get back." 

"No I know." Colby nods as he continues walking, "that's why we should make this quick." 

You walk up to the gravestones and sam shines the camera, "Here it is." 

"This is it." Colby adds, "This was like, a lot more overgrown last time we were here." 

You walk ahead a little more, shining your light on the stones as you walk by to stay with Sam and Colby. 

"All the graves, guys." Sam says as he shows the camera. 

Colby bends down in front of one, "George. George baker." 

Sam whispers the camera away, "What the fuck was that?" 

Colby continues, "Another George." You tap Colby to get his attention and you point to Sam as he speaks, "Footsteps. Footsteps. Footstep, dude!" 

Colby shines his light into the trees and Sam follows it with his camera, "What the fuck is that? Dude." 

You move between Sam and Colby, your heart beating faster and faster with each second. 

You're all silent for a little bit as you look around to try and find the source of the sound. 

"Is that tree-" 

Sam cuts Colby off, "Something moving in the tree." He shakes his head, "Alright, let's just go over to James."

You move around to walk over and Sam sighs, "oh god, I can't see shit, dude." 

Colby shines his light, making sure you're good before shining it onto a grave, "Oh wait, it's this one." 

Sam points the camera, "There it is." He bends down slightly, "James had a god dang pentagram as if he was getting summoned into the house." 

Sam talks about James and you zone out, the guilt of going to the basement slowly consuming you again. 

"Eighteen sixty five. That's a hundred years before the Perron's were even here." Colby faces the camera and Sam nods, "These people might know, what's been in the woods. You know, if they've been here for this long.." 

Colby nods, "okay so we have the EMF and we brought the Alice box, right?" 

Sam nods, "Yeah." He looks to you and you raise your hand, "Yeah, I have it." 

"Last time the Alice box gave us pretty much the direct intentions-" Sam stops talking, panning the camera out into the darkness. 

You and colby shine your lights on the tree before Sam goes back to talking, the direct intentions of the people that were out in the woods so hopefully they can give us that again." 

You walk over, standing next to Colby as he takes the camera from Sam. You take your backpack off, getting out the Alice box for him. 

Sam takes it before walking over to crouch down in front of James' headstone, "James. We came here a couple years ago. I don't know if you recognize us, you came back to the conjuring house with us. We're really just.. coming out here to look for some answers." 

He pauses before speaking again, "lot of people are scared of the woods." 

The box beeps and Sam looks down, "Oh fuck." He stands up, looking between you and Colby, "Dude." 

"What?" Colby asks and Sam holds the box up slightly, his stare on Colby. 

"Knife." The box plays and Sam repeats it, "Knife." 

"Knife!?" You and Colby ask at the same time. 

"First word is knife?" Sam asks, completely shocked. 

"What's that even mean?" Colby asks and Sam looks back down at the box as it beeps, "Late." He looks up, "Late at night?" 

Colby shrugs and you wrap your arms around yourself as Sam asks more, "Do you happen to have any idea who the man from the woods is? He's being very cryptic with the way he was telling us to come out to the woods." 

You press your fingers to your lips, watching as Sam moves around to set the equipment against the stone. 

After a few minutes, the box beeps again. 

Sam leans down and Colby gasps, reaching out to point, "Oh that just spiked up!" 

"Violent?" Sam reads and the box replays the word, "Violent."

All three of you shout out the word, shocked. 

"What ever was out here." Sam starts, "In the woods, a couple of days ago, was trying to attack us." 

"You said, violent-" 

The box beeping cuts Colby off and Sam leans down, "Violent land!" 

A sound causes Sam to look to his right, and Colby moves the camera, "What!? What!?" 

"I saw- I just saw something move to the right." Sam points and Colby taps you with his hand, "Wait, point your flashlight over there." 

You point your flashlight and the Alice box beeps again, "Spell." 

Colby whips the camera back to the stone and you keep your light to where Sam saw something, but you look over at the boys. 

"Spell." Sam says and Colby tilts his head, "The alphabet." 

You stare out at the trees, zoning out for a second before the beeping of the alice box causing you to look over, "Levitation." 

"Levitation!" Colby says loudly as Sam yells, "Oh my fucking god." 

"Oh fuck." You shake your head, "There's no way." 

"Wait wait wait." Sam whispers quickly, "does that mean from the thing from the woods, was the thing that caused the levitation of the seance in Nineteen seventy four?" 

"I don't know." Colby answers, "But it's like threatening a violent levitation, like I can do that, too." 

Sam covers his mouth, same as you, "Oh my god." 

"Or it, it, it's just mocking the story." Colby says quickly, right before the Alice box beeps again, "Cycle." 

"Oh fuck." Sam says looking up at Colby. Colby holds his hand out, "It's like it's gonna happen again." 

Sam repeats, "It's gonna happen again." 

You shiver slightly, "This is fucking wild. What the fuck, I don't like this." 

Colby looks at you and Sam, "I don't like this." Sam nods, "I don't like this at all." 

The box beeps again, "Alignment." 

All three of you repeat the word in unison, "Alignment." 

"Something's about to happen." Sam waves his hand in front of him, "Levitation. Violent land." 

"Colby. Colby." You tap him a few times and point, "There's like.. a light or something over there." 

Sam stands up, walking over to you guys and turning to look where you're pointing, "A light? Where?" 

"Yeah, there's like a flash of light over there." Sam point and you and Sam shine your flashlights in the direction it's coming from. 

Your flashlight dies and you look up at Sam shocked, "What the fuck?" You look down as you tap it a few times against your hand, "it's.. it's not working." 

Colby scoffs, "I don't like that we only have one flashlight now." 

"I'm actually really anxious about that." You say and the Alice box beeps, catching all of your attentions. 

Colby bends down with the camera, "Fight."

Sam repeats the word in a whisper and Colby stands back up, "What's that mean?" Sam shakes his head and Colby sighs, "We're gonna have to fight? It- dude. It's all like, malicious words. The fact that it said levitation, and cycle, and alignment?" 

"Yeah, it's like something's about to happen." Sam stares up at colby who nods, "Yeah, it's like this is about to be the same thing, every few years." 

Colby takes a deep breath, "So how do we figure out who we're talking to? I think that's the main thing here." 

Sam stands up, looking at colby, "How bout this.. we're not talking to anybody else. Just you..." 

As Sam continues asking questions and talking, you start to feel dizzy again. 

Your heart starts racing and you can feel your hands start to shake, just like they did in the basement. 

You close your eyes, trying to calm yourself down, but you start to feel like not yourself anymore. 

You can tell that you're taking slow steps backwards, and you know that you shouldn't do that. You don't want to do that. 

You open your eyes and gasp for air, it was almost like your breath was being held. 

Sam and Colby's whip their heads around and Colby walks back to you, "Whoa, hey. What's happening?" 

You shake your head, breathing heavy, "As.. Sam was.. talking.." you take a breath, holding it for a few seconds before you blow out the air, "I felt myself get dizzy, so I closed my.. eyes to try and get it to stop and I felt myself taking steps backwards. It felt like I wasn't breathing because when I-I opened my eyes I just gasped." 

Colby wraps his arm around you, looking back at Sam, "okay, let's just go ba-" 

"No." You cut him off, "I'm fine." 

Colby states at you, "Y/n. I don't want you getting hurt. That's not why we're doing this." You nod, "I know, Colby. I know, but I want to keep doing this. This is.. this is stuff we need to get. If anything else happens, I'll tell you but.. I'm not stopping here, we're already deep into this." 

Colby glances back to Sam and Sam shrugs, "She knows her limits, Colby. If she wants to keep going, I say we move to another spot because we aren't getting any names here." 

Colby nods, looking back at you, "You sure you're fine?" 

You nod, "Yes, Colby. I'm good." 

He nods, taking your hand in his as you follow Sam to a new area. As soon as you stop walking, Sam holds up the Alice box, "Dog." 

The Alice box goes off, "Dog." 

Sam's head snaps to his left and Colby moves the camera to his right, "What is that!?" He asks, fear coating every word. 

Sam shines his flashlight and Colby gasps, "What the fuck is that!?" 

"That.. sounds like breathing." You whisper, holding onto Colby's arm, "What the fuck." 

"Yeah, that sounds like.. h-heavy breathing." Colby pulls you close to him as he keeps the camera on Sam who tries to mimic the sound. 

"Dog." Colby whispers after a moment of silence. Sam stares at Colby with his jaw slightly dropped. It drops more when the heavy breathing sound happens again. 

"That's fucking insane." You whisper leaning out around Colby to look where Sam has his light shining. 

Colby puts the camera back on Sam as he speaks, "Wait, that sounds like.. like an, instrument or something." 

Sam imitates a horn sound and Colby nods, "Yeah, that's like a bass. I don't even know how to describe that." He walks a few steps away and Sam continues to ask questions, "What is that coming? Do you know?" 

Colby stop, turning back around. Sam's voice goes down to a whisper, "Wait, wait. Voices." 

Colby nods, "Voices, voices, voices. Wait!" He turns the camera to his right and then back to Sam, "I'm turning this off." 

Colby switches the camera light off and Sam turns his flashlight off, leaving you in total darkness. 

You get a strange feeling, feeling like you're back in the basement of the house. 

You keep yourself calm, trying not to panic because this is a feeling you do not like, at all. 

"Fuck." Sam curses, "What do we do." 

It's quiet for a few seconds, then Colby speaks up, "Is that you, in the woods?" 

The Alice box beeping causes you to jump, "Shit." 

Sam whispers right before the Alice box says the word, "Teacher.. who is the teacher?" Sam switches his flashlight back on, 

Colby gasps, his voice slightly louder, "What was that? That- dude." 

"It's coming." Sam whispers and the next thing you know, Colby grabs your arm and is pulling you along as he walks away, Sam following.

"I don't want to go too fast." Colby whispers, turning back to look at Sam, "Because like, I actually think somebody's over there." 

You stop and Colby shakes his head, "I'm not kidding." 

The light turns off and you listen for a few seconds before Colby whispers, "You hear that?"

"No." You answer in a whisper. Sam shakes his head, "No, no I don't." 

"Just wait. Just wait." Colby whispers quietly, squeezing your hand that's clinging to his, "Something is making noise." 

"Something over there." Sam says as he's lit up by the red light blinking. Colby turns his head, "Now it's this way." He turns his body and sam turns too, "There's more voices?" 

Colby turns again, "Now it's this way." 

"Okay." Sam starts, "We're getting fucking surrounded." 

"Again, again, again." Colby says taking over talking, "Okay." 

The Alice box beeps and everyone waits for it to speak, "Dave." 

Your heart falls into your stomach and you instantly feel your mouth watering like you're about to throw up. 

"Oh my god." You lay your hand that isn't in Colby's, on your forehead. 

"Dave, if you want to come back to the conjuring house with us, please follow us right now, we gotta go back." Sam speaks in one quick sentence. 

"Please." Colby pleads and Sam keeps talking, "there's people surrounding us, we gotta go" 

Colby holds your hand tight as he pulls you along with him, running after Sam. 

"Wait, we don't have a light!" Colby yells after Sam to get him to stop. Sam turns around as you and Colby catch up to him, "Then we gotta stick together real close." 

You guys run a little bit further before slowing down, "Look dude I don't want to go too fast."

The Alice box beeps and Sam looks down at it. Colby moves closer and the box sounds, "Special." 

"Special?" Colby asks and Sam looks around, "Dave is special?" You walk a little bit more and Sam looks around, "there's probably actually people or something in the woods because we're hearing like weird voices-" 

"Wait, wait, wait." Colby whispers, getting everyone to stop. You press your body against his back, closing your eyes as the feeling of puking returns. 

What?" Sam asks and Colby leans in to whisper, "I just wanna see if we can hear what's actually out here." 

It's silent, nothing but the insects for a few minutes. 

"Is that a dog?" Colby asks, "It said dog." 

"Dogs." Sam says with a nod. 

"We're in the middle of the woods. That makes no sense." Colby whispers and Sam looks at Colby, "We're two miles in the middle of the woods-" 

Sam stops talking as a noise close by makes you all freeze. 

"What was that?!" Colby asks loudly. 

"It literally sounds like a war horn or something." Sam says and Colby mimics the sound, "rrrrrrr." 

"Like I said. Something is fucking about to start-"

Colby cuts sam off, "That's not like a car engine." Sam shakes his head, "No way. We should probably actually get back." 

Sam looks at the battery percentages of the lights, "And our light's like halfway done, yours is out. Hers is out, too." Sam looks around for a second, "There's tons of dogs around." 

Colby nods, "Okay. Let's go." He squeezes your hand, "Let's go." 

The main focus for all of you right now, is getting back to the house. 

Which you do, about twenty minutes later. 

You make your way into the house, your eyes land on the door to the basement as soon as you walk in. 

Your mind flashes back to you sitting down there in the chair, and you shiver as you remember the clinking sound that happened all over again. 

"Everyone alright?" Sam asks as he walks through the door. 

"Yeah I'm good. Are you good?" Colby pokes your shoulder and you nod, forcing a smile up at him, "Yeah, I'm good." 

He nods, looking to Sam, "Ready?" Sam nods and Colby holds the camera up towards Sam. 

Sam sighs, "Dude. We just got back to the house." He reaches back to close the door, "And it says one start of battery. We left and it was full. These things should last like, five hours?" 

"Something was draining our power out in the woods." Colby's says and Sam nods, "genuinely. All of it. Something was taking a lot of the energy to follow us back. We invited it back." 

Colby tilts his head, laughing slightly, "That could have been a mistake." 

Sam pauses for a second, glancing over at you then back to Colby, "Well find out." 

Colby turns the camera off and looks at Sam, "Are we ready?" 

Sam stares at Colby and laughs nervously, "Now or never right?" 

Colby looks at you, "Are you ready?" 

You swallow, "I'm making myself not have a choice." You laugh and Colby walks up to you, embracing you in a hug.

You could cry. 

You could puke. 

You knew once you said something it was going to be a rough next couple of hours, even a day. 

"Alright." Sam claps his hands together, "Let's do this."

Sam takes the camera and walks over to the door. 

Colby walks over, standing off to the side and you're right next to him. 

It felt like your heart was going to beat right through your chest. You weren't afraid of the basement. You were scared of how much disappointment Colby was going to feel when you finally told him. 

Which you decided was going to be right now.

Sam reaches forward, grabbing the knob to twist. He pulls the door open.

Colby takes a deep breath, "Ahhh, my heart.. started beating faster as soon as I looked down there." He nods, looking to Sam then back to the stairs, "Abigail. Hopefully you were following us in the woods, but please, please please, I know you don't like it in the basement.. please follow us down here. We won't be too long. We need your help." 

You get into a line, Colby first. Then you. Then Sam. 

You felt like you were shivering because you were shaking from being so nervous. 

Your heart was beating loud and hard. 

Colby glances back, "Ready?" 

Sam answers, but all you do is nod one time. 

Colby goes down the steps, you force yourself to follow and Sam is right behind you. The camera light illuminating the stairwell. 

You completely miss their commentary about the stairs. Your heart was now beating in your ears. 

You knew that it wasn't you, that was down there last night. But you know Colby wasn't going to focus on that right away. 

His mind is going to go to you being down there in general. 

You reach the bottom and you lay your hand on your cheek. You can feel how nervous your arm by the warmth on your hand. 

"Wait." Colby looks at you and Sam, "It's just us this time. This is the first time we're alone in the basement." 

You sigh, forcing the words to come out of your mouth, "it's not." 

Colby's head snaps towards you, "What did you just say?" 

You clear your throat, "It.. um.. it's.." your voice goes quieter, "Not the first time.. for me." 

Colby just stares at you, trying to fathom what you just said to him. 

"Wait.. so.. you came down here? Alone? When?" Sam asks and you look at him, voice still quiet, "Last night." 

"What do you mean last night?" Colby asks, "I don't.. I must not.. understand what you're saying." 

"It wasn't.. um.." you wipe the sweat from your palm onto your jeans, "It wasn't me.. like.." you sigh, "It was me.. but it wasn't me, like I didn't feel like myself." 

Colby looks away, jaw cocked slightly as he tries to wrap his mind around what's happening. 

His silence was deafening. 

After a few moments, Sam breaks it, "Can you elaborate, like what do you mean it wasn't.. you?" 

You look down, trying to not look at Colby because it would just make it harder for you to talk, "I.. um. I heard my name.. being called. A few times actually. Um, then I seen a figure walk past the door way." 

"Wait. Something walked past the door?" Sam asks and you can feel Colby's eyes on you, so you just nod. 

"And then what happened." Colby states, his voice a little deeper, clearly with anger. 

You look up at him, "I heard a door open, I wasn't sure which one u-" 

"Until you got up and came down here?" Colby scoffs and Sam sighs, "Colby, just let her explain."

Colby motions and you swallow again "I tried waking both of you guys up, but neither one you heard me." 

"Obviously you didn't do a very good job, now did you?" Colby shakes his head and you sigh, "Colby, I'm telling you. Something took over me. Something made me come down here. I was sitting up for a few minutes, I tried laying back down but something actually told me, whispered, go, and I just.. went." 

"That's so weird." Sam says and you nod, looking at him, "Sam. I am deathly afraid of this basement, I told you guys this when you asked me to come out for a night or two. I never wanted to come down here, let alone all by myself. When I tell you that I had absolutely no fear at all about coming down here in the middle of the night, that honestly scared me more than this because you both know I wouldn't just do that." 

"Where did you go?" Sam asks and you point to the table and chairs, "I literally just sat, right there in that chair." 

You look at Colby and he smacks his lips as he wipes his face. He stares at the place you pointed to and stays silent for a few seconds before breaking his own quietness, "I just.. thought.. when we, uh.. first came here that we made a promise to each other not to come down here alone." 

You clench your jaw, "Colby." Your voice breaks slightly, "I didn't feel like I had much of a choice." 

He licks his lips, looking down at the items in his hand. 

"I-I felt like I needed to come down here, like I just-" you sigh, "If I could have just went to sleep I would have done that." 

Colby leans back as he looks at you, not saying anything. 

He was mad. Disappointed. 

He pushes his lips together, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he thinks about what he wants to say next. 

"Colby.. she said something to- you can't blame y/n." Sam sticks up for you, "You and I both know that this house is.. this house is way beyond something else." 

Colby sighs, "I-" he pauses, "I get that.. but like.." he looks at you then to Sam, "We said we would go to the basement, together for the first time." He looks to you, staring at you for a few seconds before speaking, "So that's like.." he shakes his head, "I'm not gonna lie, it still just.. sits a little bit wrong with me." 

He shrugs, "and that you wouldn't try and wake one of us up harder, you know?" His arms fall to his sides, "This was, like.. a big moment.. for us, Sam." 

"I don't think you're actually under-" Sam is cut off by Colby, "She took that.. for herself." 

You close your eyes as they start to burn, "I'm sorry." Your voice cracks again, "To both of you."

You open your eyes looking up at Colby slowly. He has his jaw clenched, lips pressed tightly together as he avoids looking at you. 

"Do you know what time it was when you got up?" Sam asks lowly and you shrug, "I think it was almost three, or maybe three exactly?" 

Colby nods, looking towards you but his eyes are on the floor. 

"I just heard my name a few times and then something whispered go and that's when I just wasn't me, Colby. You have to believe that I mean it when I say I'm sorry." 

He nods, running his tongue along his teeth on the inside of his lips, thinking about the situation, "I mean.. I just wish.. you know, that you would have woke me up before.. like, it would have been nice to know that something was trying to take over my fucking girlfriend." 

"I know." You whisper looking down and Colby shakes his head, letting out a sigh, "Honestly I don't even really want to keep talking about it right now. So let's just.." 

"Colby." You walk up to him and he avoids eye contact, "I didn't do it for the camera, or for the channel, or for my channel. I didn't even do it for me." 

"But you knew what you were doing?" He looks at you and his stare sends a shiver down your spine, causing the words you want to say to disappear. 

You nod, "Yeah bu-" 

He cuts you off, shaking his head, "It's fine. I get it. It's all good." He walks into the room with the table and chairs and you look at Sam. 

He walks up, laying a hand on your back, rubbing gently, "It's fine. We'll talk more about it after we're done here." 

You nod, wiping under your eyes before you follow Colby into the room. 

"Dave, the trickster.. Abigail. Whoever's down here, we are gonna be doing the Estes method, and we also believe this is the easiest way of communication." Sam says and you just stand there, staring at the table. 

"I actually have an idea." Sam points to Colby, "Before we do the estes method." 

A sound causes Colby's eyes to go wide and he points at Sam and Sam gasps, "What the fuck was that?" 

Colby holds his hand up, listening to see if the sound happens again. 

You were honestly terrified to be down here again. You wanted to move next to Colby but you weren't sure how that would go. 

You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to console yourself silently as they continue. 

"Dude." Sam says quietly and Colby leans back, "Footsteps." 

"What the fuck is that?" Sam whispers quieter and Colby answers, "That was footsteps." 

You step closer to the table, voice as quiet as theirs, "I heard footsteps when I was down here, right after I had a vision of a soldier looking in the upstairs window." 

Sam snaps his head towards you, "No fucking way." 

You nod, glancing over at Colby. He looks at you and looks away, not wanting to talk about it. He points to the wall, "But it sounded like it was in the wall." 

Colby reaches out, knocking on the wall, "It was like deep inside." 

Sam pans the camera, "If that was you knocking.." he pauses, looking down. Colby steps towards him, "What?" 

"I don't know." Sam shakes his head, "just felt like something was grabbing my foot." 

"Your foot?" You and Colby say at the same time, but Colby doesn't laugh like usual. 

"Yeah, it was like hard to-" 

Colby yells, cutting off Sam, "Oh fuck. There's something on me." 

"What? For real?" Sam asks walking over you move closer to Sam and lean over to look at Colby's leg. 

"For sure, there's some-" he sets his stuff on the table and leans down, pulling up his pant leg slightly, digging in with his fingers. 

"what is it?" Sam asks and Colby stands up, putting something on the table, "I don't know." 

"Tick?" Sam asks and Colby points with his two fingers, "It was a fucking tick." 

"Oh god." Sam groans and you cover your mouth, paranoid that you have one or two on you. 

"I knew there was something on me." Colby exclaims, stepping back. He leans down, "Shit man, that is so gross dude. I hate ticks." He picks it up and leans over, flicking it down the well, "go in the well." 

"Speaking of the well." Sam starts, " A lot of the things that we've gotten, and a lot of things we've talked about, is the water could be the catalyst for activity." 

You raise your brows, "Oh shit." 

"What if we.. kinda like how we did in the Dracula's castle episode, why don't we grab some of the well water and use that to maybe like, summon something here." Sam pauses, "If things are coming from that well, at least maybe that's like a trigger object, you know?" 

Colby nods, "Yeah. Do we have anything to get the water out with?" 

You look around for something and Sam scoffs, "wait, dude. This just turned off." He looks up at Colby, "As soon as you touched- it just did it again." 

"See!" Colby says with his hand pointing to Sam. 

You walk over to Sam, looking down at the camera and he nods, "Yeah, it just turned off again!" 

"It's not just me." Colby shrugs while holding his hands out to his sides. Sam nods, "It's not just you." 

Colby nods, "So maybe it was a warning, not to do that." 

"Are you still going to do it?" You ask looking between them. Colby looks down at the well for a few seconds before looking up at Sam with a smirk on his lips. 

His eyes go to you then back to Sam, still smirking, "Yeah." 

"Oh god." You laugh slightly, "How the fuck are you going to get it?" 

Sam looks from you to Colby and Colby laughs, "Sam. Hold my ankles." 

Sam hands you the camera and walks around to Colby and bends down. Colby gets down on his stomach and grabs the cup. 

Sam grips Colby's ankles as he inches himself forward a little bit more. He blows out air, "Catch yins on the flip side." 

He leans down, groaning as he stretches to reach the water, "Oh god " 

"I promise you're not going anywhere." Sam says, groaning as he holds Colby's ankles down. You can't help but laugh at this situation. 

It's just so.. them. 

Colby's saying something but you can't really understand him because he's laughing. 

"You good?" Sam asks and Colby answers, "Yeah I'm just gonna go forward a little bit." He inches forward some more, stretching down more. 

As they're getting the water, you feel an uneasy feeling, but you just brush it off. 

"You got it?" Sam asks. 

"Yeah, I got it." Colby answers. 

In a strained voice, Sam says, "He got the well water." 

Colby comes back up, setting the cup of water on the ground with a groan. You put the camera on Colby and he sighs, pointing to his shirt, "XPLR merch, down below." 

You hand the camera back to Sam and step to the side. Sam looks at you, "You good." You sigh quietly, nodding, "Yeah." 

"Shit dude, I ruined everything." Colby says as he brushes himself off. Sam tries not to laugh, "It was well worth it." 

Colby looks up, glaring at Sam and Sam laughs, "get it?" 

You laugh and walk around to sit down in a chair and you watch as Colby moves to sit next to you, Sam next to Colby. 

Sam leans forward, setting the camera down on the other side of the table to get you all in frame. 

"This looks oddly familiar." Colby says and Sam nods, "literally learned the Estes method in this house, two and half years ago." 

You watch as Colby puts on his blindfold and you hand him the headphones. 

Sam looks at Colby, "Let's try and figure out who's trying to fuck with us." 

"Weird full circle moment." Colby says as he brings the headphones to his ears, but stops, resting his hands back on the table, "Yeah, so as a recap real quick.. Dave.." 

Your stomach drops when you hear his name now. 

".. is the soldier.." Colby continues but Sam butts in, "Who's been following us for like four days." 

Colby continues, "For four days, but we initially talked to him with the Estes method out in the back yard, and then he follows us to the woods by the campsite.." 

You look around, squinting your eyes behind Sam. You stare for a few seconds before looking away. 

"Hopfully Abigail is still here and guides us in the right direction. Please, Abigail." Sam looks up at the ceiling and you turn your head slightly, smiling as you feel the same loving brush on your shoulder, "she's here."

Sam looks at you and Colby turns his head towards you, "How do you know?" 

"She touched my shoulder." You swallow, "She did it before." 

"And you know it's her?" Sam asks and you nod, "Oh yeah." 

"Hmm. Alright. That makes me feel a little bit better." Sam laughs slightly, "Alright. You ready?" 

"Let's do it." Colby says and as soon as he puts on the headphones, "Reason." 

"Yeah we're trying to figure out the reason why you like us so much." Sam starts, "Why you want us out into the woods." 

"Works." 

Sam reaches over between you and Colby, whispering as he moves the cup of water towards Colby more, "We also have the well water." 

"What do you want with us?" Sam asks and Colby answers right away, "Sex." 

You raise a brow, "Huh?" 

Sam blinks, smirking slightly, "Alright, are you just fucking with us? Are you the trickster spirit?" 

"Me." 

"Can you give us a name?" Sam asks and Colby is silent. Sam looks up, "Okay. Are you a solider?" 

It's silent again and you lean forward, "Sam." He looks up at you, "What's up?" 

"When I came down here last night, I asked if it was the trickster spirit. And whoever, whatever it was kept telling me the woods." You say and he tilts his head, "Huh, that would make sense. Wait, is that why you got dizzy in the woods?" 

You shrug, "I don't know. It could be. I was thinking about that, though." You nod, "I just thought I'd tell you now so you know who didn't get mad again." 

He nods, "Yeah, I get it." 

"Run." 

"What do you want us to run from?" Sam asks, "unless it's Abigail?" Sam looks over at you, "like warning us?" 

You shrug, "That, I don't know." 

"Is it something dangerous?" Sam asks and there's no answer for a little bit. 

"Injury." 

You and Sam both look up at the ceiling confused.

"Science." 

"Oh my god." Sam whispers and you look at him, "what the fuck was that?" 

Sam looks from Colby to you, "everything's moving." He goes to say something else but Colby cuts him off, "Us." 

Your eyes stay on Colby and you get a sick feeling in your stomach. 

"Fall." 

"Do you want to hurt us?" Sam asks and you lean in, "Sam, I feel sick." He looks at you, "Are you okay? Do you need to step out or something?" 

"I'm not going alone. I'll be fine." You take a deep breath, "I'm good." 

"Friendly." 

"Okay. So you're friendly. Is this Abigail? Are you trying to lead us somewhere else, make sure y/n is okay?" Sam looks at you and Colby answers, "Stone." 

"There's a lot of stones around here." Sam says and his tone makes you want to laugh, he sounded so done. 

"Oh, Sam. Another thing. When I got that vision of the soldier looking in the window, there were footsteps before and then I asked if it was watching you and Colby.." you start and Sam nods, "Yeah?" 

"That's when that weird hold on me went away and I booked it back upstairs because footsteps were coming towards me but I couldn't see anything." 

"Stab." 

Sam keeps his stare on you, "it said knife in the graveyard." You nod and Colby speaks up, "He had to go." 

"Are you a murderer?" Sam asks and there's no answer from Colby for a little while. 

"James." 

Sam's eyes go wide and he jumps back, "James!" He covers his mouth with his hands. You cover your mouth, eyes wide, "No fucking way!" 

"That's the soldier from the secret grave." Sam looks to you and over to Colby before looking back at the table, "James. Is this you that we're talking with?" 

Instantly, Colby answers, "yes." 

Sam's mouth drops open, "Fuck yeah." He rests his hands against his chin, "Okay. Thank you. Who is this man from the woods?" 

You start to feel dizzy again. You lay your head in your hand as Sam continues to ask questions. 

"Here." 

"James thinks the man from the woods is here." Sam says and you lift your head. 

"He's pointing fingers." 

"What does he want with us?" Sam asks and it's a few minutes before Colby answers, "Rule."

"He wants to control this.. area? Is the man from the woods actually powerful, or is he just tricking us?" Sam pauses, "James can you answer? Are you just fucking with us?" 

You shake your head as you look away from Colby to Sam, "I feel.. like there's something here, like.. around us." You motion, "Like a constant presence that's moving around." 

"Yes." 

Sam stares at you, "He's not actually gonna hurt us, right? Nothing can happen?" 

You wipe your hands on your thighs, "This is fucking scary." You take a slow, deep breath and exhale quietly. 

"Future." 

A minute or two of silence goes by, "Use." 

"What, are you gonna use us?" Sam asks confused and Colby answers, "Help." 

You and Sam both look at Colby, staring at him. 

"James, do you need help?" Sam looks away and back to Colby, "How can we help you?" 

You both stare at Colby, waiting for a response but nothing. 

"Tell us how we can help, actually this time." Sam looks around and you feel like hairs on the back of your neck stand up. 

"There's definitely something here, Sam." You whisper so quiet you weren't sure if Sam actually heard you. He looks over at you, nodding and his voice is just as quiet as you, "Yeah." 

"Water." 

"Is that how you get your power?" Sam motions to the cup, "We got a little of the well water right here." He looks at you and his eyes move up to above your head, like he's following something that's moving away from you. 

"You." 

"Are.. are both James and the man from the woods still here?" Sam asks and there isn't a response from Colby for a few minutes. 

"Yes." 

Your mouth, along with Sam's, drop open, "Oh shit." 

"Dave." 

You and Sam look at Colby, asking in unison, "Dave?" 

Sam looks at you, "are there three people now?" Sam asks, "James. Dave. The man from the woods?" 

"Fool." 

"Fool." Sam repeats slowly.

"I'm back." 

"I'm back.. as if he's been talking with us." Sam looks up at you and back down to the table, "Man from the woods, have you been with us this entire time?" 

Sam pauses, waiting for a response but nothing happens for a few minutes, "You." 

"Yeah, have you been with me and Colby?" He looks up at you, "or have you been with y/n?" You tilt your head down, shaking your head as you blink slowly. 

"Woods.. Us.." 

"Us and the woods? We were all in the woods." Sam says and there's a knock, causing you to jump slightly, "Fucking hell." 

"In." 

"We were all in the woods." Sam repeats, "Man from the woods, what is your name?" Colby instantly answers, "Yeah." 

"I don't-." Sam rests his hand on his chin, totally consumed and Colby speaks, "Me." 

"Yeah yo-" 

Colby cuts Sam off, "I am." 

"Are you-" Sam stops talking, looking at you confused, "Have you been-" 

"Hello?" 

You and Sam look at Colby and Sam stares at him as he speaks, "Hello.. have you been with us the whole time, It-" Sam is completely baffled by what you're getting back from Colby. 

"Are you Dave?" Sam asks, keeping his stare on Colby. 

You're so scared that you know you're going to jump when either Colby or Sam breaks the silence. You were so on edge right now, you didn't want to sit through another Estes method. 

But you are. 

"No." Colby moves his head slightly, "It's meee." 

Sam looks away, letting his hands fall in front of him, "What the fuck?" He looks at you and you lay your hand on your mouth, shrugging as you shake your head. 

"No, then it's me?" Sam whispers and Colby butts in, "Moon." 

"Dave. Are you a soldier? Answer me. Who are you Dave?" Sam asks and another few minutes of silence go by, "Don't." 

"You've been following us for four or five days." Sam leans forward, resting on his elbows. 

"Again." 

"Why don't you want to tell us who you are?" Sam asks, set on finding out who this spirit is. 

"Sam." You lift your finger, pointing to the green camera light that's getting brighter by the second. 

He shakes his head, letting out a sigh and Colby speaks up, "Yours.. friend." 

"You want to be our friend?" Sam asks and Colby instantly answers, "Happy." 

"Okay.. you like when we come talk to you Dave?" Sam asks and there's more silence before Colby answers, "Lake.. turn around." 

You and Sam both instantly look behind you, a weird feeling in your stomach building up. You look forward at Sam and sigh, "This is intense." 

He nods, "Are you.." he looks to his other side, "Are you right behind us?" Sam stays looking behind him as Colby answers, "Unlock." 

"Unlock? Thats what it said about the door. Is the person down here right, the person that locked the door on us two years ago?" 

"What?."

"Do you remember us? Cause we were here two ye-" 

Colby cuts Sam off, "Yes." 

"So were you the person th-" 

"Yeah!" 

Sam covers half of his face, "Fuck.. Dude.." He turns to Colby, fighting back the urge to tap Colby. He lays his hands on the table and before he says anything else, Colby speaks, "Here.. This.." 

"Are you calling-" 

Colby cuts Sam off, "Friend." 

"His friend, was the one who locked us in the basement two years ago." Sam looks at you and taps the table with his fingers, "Is this friend of ours, this happy friend, the same person as the man from the woods? Are you the one calling us to the woods?" 

"Yeah." Colby answers and you get a chill down your spine. That feeling like you're about to puke returns. 

"Fuck." Sam leans forward. 

"Smile." 

Sam reaches out, grabbing Colby's shoulder speaking quickly, "Dude. Dude dude dude." 

You lay your hand on Colby's opposite shoulder, "Colby." 

Colby takes off the head phones and pulls the blindfold down. His hand lays over his eyes as Sam grabs the camera, "I actually think this thing that's been following us the entire time, Dave.." 

Colby keeps his hand over his eyes, "Mhm." 

Your fingers rub gently over his jacket as Sam continues to speak, "Is.. the man from the woods. I don't think Dave is a soldier." 

"Wait, why do you say that?" Colby asks, blocking the light with his hand.

You keep your stare on Colby, making sure he's good as Sam keeps talking. 

You feel that guilt feeling all over again. You don't want to feel it, not only does it make you feel upset, but you didn't want the spirits feeding off the negative emotion. 

"But Dave was the soldier, because when we talked to him with the Estes method, like he was the one that came from underground." Colby says and Sam nods, continuing to talk. 

Colby leans back and you drop your hand, leaning back as he speaks, "Wait. So you're saying he's been the one that's been stalking us since day one?" 

You look from Colby to Sam, sitting there listening to them talk back and forth about what happened while Colby was doing the method. 

You feel goosebumps form on your skin and you shiver. 

"Let's check if he locked the door one more time." Sam says and you all get up, walking over to the steps. 

Colby reaches back, grabbing onto your hand to pull you in front of him so you're not last on the stairs. 

You look up at him and he just stares down at you, fighting back a smile because he still wants to seem mad. 

You smirk slightly and walk ahead of him. 

"The doors wide open? That's also bizzare, too. I thought we closed it." Sam says, turning around to look at Colby.

"When we went up and got.. the water cup? We might have-" Colby's cut off by Sam, "Oh, okay." 

"You know what I just realized, too?" Colby asks as you walk out into the room, "when we first came to the basement, yesterday." He closes the door, but then opens it back up, "We did a ritual where we were saying soldier, soldier, soldier. What if that was just instantly telling, like the trickster as well, that we were trusting the soldiers too much?" 

Colby closes the door, "Like duh, he's gonna act like a soldier to get on our good side." 

Sam switches the green light back to the regular, white light, "Wait, the first day we did an investigation right here with Amanda. We opened the basement door and something came up and hit the REM pod." 

"So you could have just let out, Dave, the trickster spirit from the basement and then ever since then he's been following us."

A knock causes you to jump and Colby wraps his arm around you, "What was that?" 

"What was that?" Sam asks turning the camera, "It was like a knock on the front door." 

Colby walks over, checking it out and you watch, making sure you don't see anything in the windows. 

After a few minutes, Colby walks back, "Okay. Are we ready to go back down?" 

Sam nods and you stand there, hesitating on how you want to answer, "Um.. I don't.. know." 

"Do you feel comfortable going back down?" Sam asks and you sigh, "I mean.. yeah.. I just.." you shake your head, "Yeah. Let's just do it." 

"Y/n. If you don't-" 

You cut Sam off, "I'm good." 

They don't argue anymore and walk over to the door. Colby first, then you, then Sam. 

You make your way back down, sitting down at the same like you were before going up stairs. Sam ties the blindfold on and Colby looks at him, "Ready?" 

Sam nods, "Yeah." 

Colby switches on the static sound, "See how loud that is guys?" He looks into the camera and Sam puts on the headphones, immediately saying something, "Two." 

"Two." Colby thinks, "there's still two of you here? I believe we were just talking to-" 

Sam interrupts Colby as he continues to speak, "Young." 

"Out." 

"Hi." 

You get instant chills and Colby looks at you, "Every single time I talk it's just talking over me." Colby looks up, making his voice louder, "Dave. Are you with me?" 

A few minutes goes by, and Sam breaking the silence causes you to jump, "Here." 

"Why do you want us to go to the woods so bad?" 

You close your eyes, trying to keep that sick feeling at bay as Colby keeps trying to get answers. 

"Evil girl." Instantly after, "Abigail." 

You open your eyes, looking at Colby and you repeat her name at the same time. 

"He would.. the trickster, or Dave, would think that Abigail is evil-" 

"Dead." 

"Dave I need you to be clear with me, why do you want us to go to the woods?" 

Sam doesn't say thing for a few minutes, but within those few minute, you reach out, laying your hand on Colby's arm and his hand goes to lay on yours, "What's up?" 

"I don't feel like it's just us again." You shake your head, "Someone else is here. Something else, or whatever. We're not alone." 

"Down." 

"Person."

Colby looks from you to Sam, and back to you. 

"Blame." 

"So if there's other people down there as well, is that what you're saying? Other spirits that you know?" Colby asks and Sam responds, "Seven." 

Colby's mouth drops and he leans back, "we've been getting seven all the time.." 

"Line em' up." 

"Are these seven spirits dangerous?" Colby asks and you jump as something brushes against your leg. You refuse to look, mainly because you're scared. 

"Who are these seven spirits in the woods with you? Are they other earth bound spirits, possibly?" Colby asks and you sit there in silence, awaiting a possible answer from Sam.

"With you." 

You look at Colby, "Is that why I don't feel like it's just us?" 

"If there's seven spirits with us now.. I mean.." 

"Basement." 

Your eyes go wide, "seven spirits here. In the basement." 

"Do you have a plan to do something to us is we go to the woods?" 

Sam answers Colby immediately, "Spooked." 

You nod, your voice quiet, "Yeah, we're for sure spooked." 

"Why didn't you scare us when we were there earlier tonight?" Colby asks and you look between him and Sam, wishing you weren't scared enough to leave the basement alone. 

"Was that you making noises in the woods? Were you trying to scare us?" 

Sam doesn't answer, he just sits there. 

"Find out." 

You feel like your skin is crawling with the cryptic responses. You were so on edge right now, you wanted to leave and never come back. 

Colby looks at you, "That's the same thing is said yesterday.. come find out." 

You place your elbows on the table, holding your head between your hands. 

"Are you okay?" Colby whispers and you nod slightly, "I'm starting to get a headache." 

"I promise." 

"What's gonna happen?" Colby asks and there's another long pause, the pain in your head growing worse by the second. 

"Trauma." 

You look up at Sam and you close your eyes. 

"Stone." 

"Stone?" Colby questions and you lean back slowly, taking a deep breath as you rest your hands on the table. 

The pain in your head is slowly dying down. 

Colby continues asking questions and you feel that feeling of not being alone creep in again, this time it's more of a heavier feeling. 

You can feel it, weighing down on you like something is pressing on your shoulders and you're resisting. 

"It's time." 

"I can sense." 

The feeling disappears and you slam your hand on Colby's arm, "I just felt like something was weighting down my shoulders and when Sam said it's time, it went away." 

"Is that plan happening now? When is it going to happen? Were you just touching y/n?" Colby asks, glancing from Sam to you, "Why would we come back there if you're saying you're going to attack us?" 

"Pause." 

"Dude." Colby rubs his eyes and you sigh, "i have a question, were you the one we were talking to two years ago?" 

"You're scared." 

Colby laughs slightly, "we were terrified." 

"Don't record." 

You glance to the camera and back to Colby. 

"Dave.. do you call yourself Beelzebub?" 

"I dare you." 

You all sit there in silence, you mainly thinking about everything. 

"I like you." 

"At this point, we just know you're trying to get on our good side. So, it's not gonna work." 

"Family." 

"Do you do this for a specific reason?" 

You lay your hands on your head, resting your elbows on the table. 

Your headache returns. 

"Heaven." 

"Do you get power from scaring people?" Colby asks and you swear you hear a knock, but before you can say anything, Sam cuts you off, "Come in." 

"It's the same thing. He's not answering any questions. It's the same things.. just come to the woods." 

"My head hurts again." You look at Colby and he leans in, "Do you need to leave?" 

"I'm not going by myself. I'll be fine." You take a deep breath, "it was hurting just a few minutes ago.. stopped, and now it hurts again." 

"Did it do this when you were down here-"

Sam cuts Colby off, "Alone." 

"No." You answer quickly, "It didn't." 

"You know, that makes sense though, the owner did say the best way to get evidence is to be alone." Colby looks at you, snapping his head to Sam. 

"He's ready." 

You point to Sam, "Colby. Look at him." 

Colby watches Sam and tilts his head, "He's like.. shaking.." He looks at you, "I'll pull him out of this in a second.." 

You nod, sitting up and watching Sam intently. He shakes his head back and forth, just acting weird. 

"Colby, I don't .. I don't like this." You look at Colby and he shakes his head, "Yeah neither do I." 

"Thank you." Sam says, sounding normal. 

Colby just stares at him as he places a hand on his shoulder. Sam reaches up, brushing his other shoulder before moving to take off the headphones. 

Colby moves his hand and Sam brushes his shoulder again, almost in a panic to take off the blindfold. 

"Why you acting like that?" Colby asks, kind of worried. 

"Dude." Sam shakes his head, hand still on his shoulder, "I-" he stumbles over his words before he stands up, moving behind Colby, "It felt like someone was leaning in like this." 

He demonstrates and Colby looks at you, eyes wide, "Isn't that-" 

"Uh huh." You nod, "I felt that same thing." 

"It felt like it was pushing me down." Sam moves to sit down and Colby nods, "Yeah your legs were shaking. I stopped it mostly because y/n kept getting headaches and I wanted to see, like what you were doing." 

"I don't think I've ever felt an Estes method like that.. I don't.." he looks between you and Colby, ".. Was I like.. it literally felt like-" 

"Just pressure on your neck and shoulders?" You ask and Sam nods, "Yeah, the pressure." 

"It was your legs that were freaking me out because you were just like starting to twitch and like-" 

Sam cuts Colby off, "that's what I'm saying like, the Zack Bagans thing.. my legs were tensing up as if I needed to like, move or I'd get up.. it was just fucking weird." 

"Okay let's just.. get out of here. We can talk about it all upstairs." Colby stands up, "How's your head?" He looks at you and you nod, "It's fine again."

"The camera turned off." Sam says and Colby goes to grab it. He turns it back on and it shuts off again, "it just turned off twice, in a row, right when I grabbed it.." 

"Alright let's just get upstairs." Sam says and you all start to gather the things from the table. Colby yelling causes you to jump, "Three times!?" 

"Let's just go. Let's go." Sam says and it turns off again, "What's fucking happening? I'm holding it with my left hand because I'm holding this." Colby shows his hand and you turn your head, almost like a scuffling abound capturing your attention. 

"Guys." You hold your arm out towards them but the camera shutting off has their attention. 

You look back at them, then back into the darkness and the same footsteps that came after you while you were down here alone, come after you again. 

You let out a yell, moving to stand between Sam and Colby.

"What!? What what?!" Colby asks wrapping his arm around you. 

"Footsteps. Like footsteps running towards me just happened and that same thing happened last night when I was coming back up the steps." You lean into Colby and he sighs, "We need to be recording." 

"Here. I'll just.." Sam starts recording on his phone. He explains what you heard and Colby holds the camera out, "Guys. Look look." 

"It's just turning off." Sam says and Colby holds it back up, "Look watch. Are you gonna do it again? Turn off the camera." 

Sam shakes his head, "Dude, I just don't think we should fuck with it like that." 

"No that was five times in a row, Sam." Colby argues, "You got that right?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, yeah. I got it." Sam says. You sigh, "I think we just need to get out of here." 

You all go up the steps, stepping out the door way and you take a deep breath, "Oh my god." 

"It's still turning off." Colby says, and suddenly the light goes off, causing you all to yell. 

"This is a brand new light." Sam says, "let's just go outside." 

As you go outside, Sam pulls the door shut, "What the fuck is happening." Colby shrugs, "I don't know dude. Something is trying to delete the footage." 

They go back and forth about it for a second and then Colby looks at you, "Are you okay?" 

You nod, "No, yeah. I'm good. I feel better now that we're out here." You walk over to him, "Are you still mad at me?" 

He pulls you into a hug, "Were definitely going to talk about everything in detail when we get a second, but as of right now I'm just glad that nothing serious happened to you." 

"So you still love me?" You look up at him and he looks down at you, "Yes. Of course I love you. I love you, even when I'm mad at you." 

He smiles and leans down to peck your lips, "so are you sleeping with me tonight or are you-" 

You cut him off, "Going to a hotel? Yes. I'll see you in the morning." 

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

I hope you enjoyed this. I wrote so much my Wattpad started to slow down and didn't keep up with me so I'm sorry if there's any major mistakes. 

Thanks for reading! Love yas! 

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[steamy-linguine]

LATE NIGHT BEER

Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Read part 2 here

A/N: OMG, HI??? It’s been forever and I haven’t posted in ages but I’ve been on a wolverine kick and thought I should dump a drabble. Anyway, it’s a slow burn and the reader is already given a mutant name, enjoy, might post a pt. 2 hehe

Warnings: None, all fluff, slow burn (sorry), old man logan (need him)

Word count: idk??? Sorry babes.

There you were. Sitting in the garden with your hair pushed behind your ear, a pen between your lips, and a journal in front of your eyes in the grass.

You were new, he could tell. He would’ve remembered a face like yours before.

“Who’s that?” He pointed in the direction of the girl and Scott did a double take.

“That’s Aurora. She can manipulate light,” Scott answered him before he carried on about some mission but Logan was too entranced to pay attention to his words.

You laid on your stomach with your legs in the air, swinging slowly. You pulled the pen from your lips and began scribbling something and he peered his eyes as if he could see that far, or so he wishes.

“Logan, come on we’ve gotta go.” Scott broke his concentration. Trying not to draw any attention to himself, he turned to follow Scott and leaving the area.

So it was like this for the next few weeks. He would walk into the garden and you would be in your usual spot with the same journal. He would even catch you sometimes in the den watching tv with Rogue. You had a laugh that carried down the hall and would fill the space with something warm that would bloom in his chest.

He hated it, because he knew he couldn’t have you. He was much older, not in an illegal way (of course) but you were young and full of life while he was well over 200 years old, and lived a life full of loss which shaped him into the bitter man he was today. One of the days, he was walking the hallway trying to find Storm for some favor that he had forgotten about when you both had crossed paths and for a moment your gaze caught one another.

You gave him a gentle smile and he instead turned his eyes away from yours and continued forward although just your presence made him forget whatever the fuck he was going to do or ask.

The next night, Logan laid in bed trying to fall asleep but something was keeping him awake or more so someone. Ever since he had known you were here, you always invaded his thoughts and it was every night. He could usually push them away and try to sleep but he couldn’t stop thinking about that same tender smile you gave him. It was already bad enough that everyone around him loved you and wouldn’t shut the fuck up about you and now you were invading his thoughts before bed.

He let out a heavy sigh as he got out of bed and knew what could help him in moments like this which was a nice cold beer. He walked the hallways of the mansion, which was filled with nothing but silence and the sounds of the crickets that sang their night song outside of the windows. He pushed open the door into the kitchen when the fridge door shut suddenly and the sound of a bottle popping caught his attention and he turned.

“Sorry, was I loud?” You asked him in a soft voice, your eyes held an apologetic gaze.

His eyes searched over your body and he shook his head, “No.”

The two stood in silence and Logan looked at the bottle in your hands. “That’s my beer, bub.”

You looked down and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks and the lights in the kitchen flickered for a brief moment and he figured that you might be feeling a bit intimidated.

He shrugged, “You don’t need to be nervous. I also like a cold beer at night.”

He moved closer to you and you took a step back as he towered over you for a second before turning to open the fridge. His shoulders were broad and his arms were huge, you could tell under the white shirt that he was all muscle. Logan grabbed himself a bottle and closed the fridge.

He walked on the other side of the kitchen island and took a seat, popping open his beer also.

“Logan, right?” You broke the silence. He swallowed whatever was in his mouth and he nodded his head.

“Rogue speaks highly of you. She says you’re a friend.” Your voice is soft and you lean back against the fridge doors. He watches as you press the bottle to your lips and takes a drink.

“I’m sure she’s really the only one that thinks that.” His spoke in a hushed tone.

You smile, “Oh no, everyone thinks you’re pretty cool. I mean you are the wolverine.”

A ghost of a smirk graces his face and he looks down for a split second and back to you, whose eyes never left him.

“How are you liking the mansion?” He asks you trying to change the subject.

He notices there is a shift in you. You look around at your atmosphere and for a brief moment he can see there is a hint of sadness in your eyes. “It’s…nice.” You finally answer.

Logan doesn’t press for an answer from you because he knows that expression to well. You were hiding something and it was painful.

“Well, the students seem to like you.” He affirms.

“Is it only the students?” You ask him and Logan raises a curious eyebrow and you do the same to him.

God, I’m too old for this shit.

He would be lying if he said he didn’t want to just take you and kiss you right now. Lips pressed together and teeth pulling at the bottom of your lip. He wondered how soft your skin would feel under his rough hands, how sweet your voice would sound when you would call out his name and he wouldn’t even cover your mouth, he’d want to hear you.

“I’ve seen you quite a bit Logan.” Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts and he focuses on your words now. “But every time I’ve tried to talk to you, you just ignore me.” You chuckle out the last part.

Logan clears your throat, “I’m sorry I’m not good with conversation.”

“Rogue said that.”

“Of course she did.”

It’s quiet again as the two of you continue to drink and your eyes never leave one another.

“I should probably head to bed. Class is tomorrow and I’m here drinking your beer. Again, I’m really sorry I just assumed since it was in there-“

“It’s fine, bub. Just keep this”-He gestured to the beers-“Between us or else I won’t hear the fucking end of it from Scott.” He said to you as he stood on his feet and held his bottle in his hand.

You gave him that same sweet smile and you nodded as you wished him a goodnight and walked out.

He couldn’t get their conversation out of his head. He only went in the kitchen in hopes to drown his thoughts in the comfort of alcohol only to find the one thing that was being a distraction for him to be standing there in pajamas. It was comedic almost when he thought of it truly.

Logan didn’t think he would ever get another chance to talk to you again but on the next night when he couldn’t escape his thoughts, he went downstairs for another drink only to find you there already waiting for him with two cold beers on the counter.

A/N: CHEESY?? Maybe but pt. 2 will have smut…

[moonsandmobilityaids]

Secrets Revealed

Pairings: Poly!marauders x disabled!reader Summary: Sometimes it's easier to walk. One problem-your boyfriends don't know you can. Warnings: Chronic pain, mentions of ableism (both internalised and external) Series Masterlist

The late afternoon sunlight filters into your room, casting a warm, golden hue over everything it touches. You're perched by the window, gazing out at the dwindling light, while James, Sirius, and Remus occupy various corners of your sanctuary.

James is sprawled on your bed, a book open before him. His glasses rest low on his nose, catching the glint of the dying sun as he flips through the pages nonchalantly, his ruffled hair fanning out across the pillow like a dark halo.

Sirius, meanwhile, has claimed the armchair by the fireplace, his long legs draped over one arm, hands clasped behind his head. His eyes are half-closed, the flickering flames reflecting in their depths, and there's a sense of contentment about him that seems almost tangible.

Remus sits at your desk, bent over his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook, a quill poised between his fingers. Every so often, he makes a note in the margin, his brow furrowed in concentration.

The room is filled with the soft crackle of the fire, the rustle of turning pages, and the shared silence of companionship. This is your haven, and they are your pillars—each one a fixture in the landscape of your life.

Normally, their presence brings a sense of calm, a gentle reprieve from the storm of your thoughts. But tonight, the ache in your legs is louder than usual, the pain echoing through the silence between their words. The prospect of shifting from armchair to wheelchair, from wheelchair to bed, the clumsy dance of limbs and reliance on others, feels more daunting than ever.

Your gaze flickers to the sturdy frame of the bed—a few steps away, yet a chasm wide and deep in reality. And in that moment, you make a decision.

You will walk.

The distance is short. You've traversed it often when left alone with your thoughts and the stubbornness that threads through your veins. Yet each step is a battle, fought against the protests of your body and the remnants of pride clinging to your heart. It's a war you wage in private, away from prying eyes.

Until now.

Without a word, you lean forward, your muscles coiling like springs beneath your skin. Your hands grip the armrests, knuckles white as you push yourself upward. Pain flares up your legs, a stark reminder of the invisible chains that bind you. But you fight it, focusing on the strength in your arms, the determination fuelling each ragged breath.

The transition is slow, agonising. For a moment, you hover between two worlds—seated and standing, dependence and autonomy. Then, with a final surge of effort, you are upright. Your body sways, unsteady but defiant.

James's book falls from his hands, his eyes round with surprise as he surges upright. "What—Y/N, what are you doing?"

Sirius stiffens, the ease in his posture evaporating as he swings his legs off the bed and onto the floor. "Bloody hell, babe, sit down! You don't have to—"

"I'm fine," you interrupt, voice strained but steady. A step forward shrinks the distance between you and the bed. It's slow, shaky, but you trust in the familiarity of your own body's resilience. "I do this all the time."

"You what?" Remus is on his feet in an instant, moving toward you with a grace born of decades spent anticipating danger. His eyes are wide, the worry lines etched deeper into his forehead. He hovers, hands outstretched but not touching, as if afraid any contact might shatter the illusion of control you're so desperately clinging to. "Y/N, you've never—"

"Not in front of people," you clarify, your words punctuated by the effort it takes to lift your body another inch off the cold stone floor. Pain blossoms in your side, a reminder of the damage done, but you push past it, focusing on the familiar burn of used muscles and the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. "It's easier when I'm alone. Less... fuss."

"Less fuss?" James echoes, his voice threaded with disbelief. "If you need help, you can just—"

"I'm not going to fall," you assure them, even as your breath hitches from the effort. One final push and you're sitting on the edge of the bed, relief flooding through you as the soft mattress gives way beneath you. But even then, you can feel their eyes on you—watchful, wary, a mix of concern and curiosity.

Sirius's hand rakes through his hair as he paces in front of you, his expression etched with worry. "Why didn't you tell us you could walk, even if it was just a little?"

James sits at your side, one hand resting over yours, warm and grounding. "We've been friends for years, Y/N," he says, his voice gentler than you've ever heard it. "And now we're more than that. You never mentioned anything about this—we could've helped."

You look from one face to another, seeing the concern etched on each one, feeling the weight of the moment press down on you. These aren't strangers who will judge or ridicule; these are the people who have come to mean everything to you. They look back at you now, eyes filled not only with affection but also confusion, a slight sting of betrayal.

Remus is there too, perched on the edge of your bed, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back. "Why hide it from us?" His voice is soft, almost a whisper against the heavy silence. "You know we'd never think less of you, don't you?"

"It's not that," you say, your own voice just as quiet, your gaze shifting to Sirius who has stopped pacing and now stands with his arms crossed, his grey eyes burning into yours. "It's the way people look at me when they see me walking. Like I've been lying about needing the wheelchair. Like I'm some sort of... fraud."

James's grip on your hand tightens, not in anger but in silent solidarity. His brow furrows as he takes in your words, the implications hanging heavy in the air between you. "But we're not 'people,' sweetheart. You don't have to put up a front with us."

You nod, the heat of his hand seeping into yours, the rhythm of his thumb tracing small circles over your knuckles offering a strange sense of comfort. "I know, but it's easier this way. Easier not to have to explain or deal with the questions. And by the time I'm comfortable enough with someone to talk about it, it feels too late to bring up."

Sirius drops to a crouch in front of you, his hands resting lightly on your knees, his gaze searching your face for something only he knows. "You shouldn't have to explain yourself to anyone," he murmurs, "especially not to us. If you need the chair, you use the bloody chair. If you can walk, even just a bit, that's fine, too. We care about you, not what you can or can't do."

The corners of your mouth twitch upwards, just a fraction, at the sincerity in Sirius' voice. "I don't do it often," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "My balance is... off. I stumble more than I'd like. But I haven't fallen in years."

Remus' hand stills on your back, his brow furrowing as he looks at you, a new understanding dawning in his eyes. "You're saying you stumble but don't fall? How often does this happen?"

"More than I'd like to admit," you say, eyes dropping to your legs again. You flex your fingers, watching as the muscles in your arms respond to your command. "But I know my limits."

James exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. "You've been facing this alone for so long... Why didn't you say something? We would've helped, just like we help Moony every month."

"But that's just it," you reply, voice barely above a whisper. "This isn't once a month. It's every day. I didn't want to worry you, or make you feel like you had to watch me constantly."

The laugh that escapes Sirius is soft, almost lost amid the rustle of fabric as he shifts closer. "We already watch you," he says, his tone light but the emotion behind it heavy with sincerity. "Not in a creepy way, mind you, but because we care. If you stumble, we're there. If you need help walking across a room, we've got you."

Remus tilts his head, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your forehead, the warmth of his lips seeping through your skin and into your bones. "We're your partners," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm against the harsh reality of your circumstances. "We face this together. You don't have to do anything alone anymore."

A shiver runs down your spine as James presses a kiss to your shoulder, his lips warm even through the thin fabric of your shirt. Sirius nestles his head against your knees, anchoring you, his presence a solid reminder that you are not alone—not now, not ever again. You feel cocooned in their warmth, the tension in your muscles beginning to ease under their careful ministrations.

"Alright," you concede, your voice barely above a whisper. You take a moment to meet each pair of eyes, holding their gazes, finding strength in their shared determination. "I'll try... to be more open with you. But seriously—no panicking if I so much as stand up to cross the room."

James chuckles, a soft sound that brings a flicker of normalcy back into the room. He leans over and plants a quick kiss on your cheek, his stubble grazing your skin. "Deal," he says, pulling back just enough to flash you a lopsided grin. "But we reserve the right to keep a close eye on you."

Sirius's smirk is a faint echo of his usual cockiness, tempered by the gravity of the situation. "Or catch you when you fall," he adds, resting his chin on your knee and looking up at you with an intensity that makes your heart flutter.

Remus's hand never leaves yours, his thumb tracing comforting circles over your knuckles. The lines around his eyes deepen as he smiles, a gentle expression that holds more warmth than the sun. "We love you, all of you. We're here for you—however you need us."

The swell of tears does not come from sadness this time, but rather the immense relief of being seen, truly seen, for who you are. You lean forward, placing a soft kiss on James's cheek, Sirius's forehead, and Remus's shoulder. Their arms tighten around you just a fraction, returning the sentiment without words. Warmth radiates from each touch, filling the spaces within you that have been cold for far too long.

"Thank you," you whisper, your voice barely audible even in the silence of the room. But they hear it, and their hold on you strengthens, anchoring you in this moment of acceptance and understanding.

You close your eyes, allowing yourself to sink into the comfort they provide. The walls you've spent years building around yourself begin to crumble, bit by bit, under the weight of their unwavering support. For the first time in what feels like forever, you don't feel the need to hide, to pretend, to be anything other than yourself.

[heartsforvin]

hi, can you do imagine were vinnie comes back from a long trip?

DON’T LEAVE ME

cutesy lil fluff for you guys <33

pairing: vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings: cussing, use of pet names, sexual joke mentioned, pure fluff, if i missed anything lmk !!

summary: you don’t let vinnie leave your sight the minute he gets back from his trip

vinnie had just gotten back from his one week trip to europe, and of course you were the one to meet him at the airport.

the minute you helped him with his bags and got back in the car, you kissed him so hard he thought he’d die from lack of oxygen.

“never leave me again,” you breathe against his lips, both of you smile. “one week is too long.”

you caress his cheek and a sweet smile is planted on his lips as he looks at you with so much love.

“got some cool pictures though.” he breaks the sweet moment with a laugh.

you pull away from his face and sit up straight. vinnie’s hand immediately finds its home on your thigh once he starts driving back to your guys’ shared apartment.

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

the minute the two of you got into your apartment, you pushed vinnie’s bags aside and dragged him into your room.

you didn’t want to waste any time apart. this might’ve come off as clingy, some might even say separation anxiety, but you just loved your boyfriend.

“baby, baby slow down,” vinnie chuckles when you swing your leg over his and snuggle into him. “i’m not going anywhere, my love.”

you smile up at him with so much love. you just missed him so much, you couldn’t help it.

the two of you barely had time to talk due to the time difference, along with vinnie’s busy schedule he had out there.

you just missed your boy.

vinnie kisses your forehead as he moves his thumb over your arm. “what fun things did you and hera do while i was gone?” he asks.

you snuggle into him more before holding onto him tighter, making sure he really isn’t going anywhere.

“same old shit basically,” you sigh. “had to work majority of the week, then i of course took care of our daughter.” you finish, looking up at him.

vinnie smiles, kissing your temple before untangling himself from you.

when you grab onto his bicep though, he turns to look at you and chuckles. “princess i gotta use the bathroom, let go.”

your grip tightens and that’s when he realizes you aren’t going to let go. grabbing your hand from his arm, he pulls you up and over his shoulder.

you giggle at the view of his ass, trying to reach down the best you can and smack it playfully like he does you.

“no smackin’ my ass, that’s my job to you!” vinnie laughs when he feels your hand on him.

you just laugh with him and do it again before he sits you on the counter in the bathroom.

“you happy now?” he asks sarcastically, you just smile and kick your feet in front of you as your boyfriend uses the bathroom.

once he finished up and washed his hands, he grabbed your hand in his and carefully helped you down off the counter.

“you gonna let me do anything in private?” vinnie asks once the two of you get back into bed.

hera climbs in with you, climbing on vinnie’s chest and laying on him. you move to lay on your side, arm draped around his abdomen.

“well duh, i’ll let you shit in private, i know how you are about that.” you joke.

vinnie laughs and looks over at you. “what if i wanna get off? you gonna sit and stare?” he asks, making you laugh quietly.

he looks at you, serious but not that serious about the question. “i’d just do it for you.” you reply with a shrug.

vinnie smiles and moves his body to face you, making hera run off his chest and onto the edge of the bed.

he grabs you by the waist and pulls you in so you’re on top of him, face to face.

“my pretty girl,” he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before kissing you softly. “you don’t know how much i missed you.”

you blush at the name, even being with him as long as you had, every little name he calls you gets you flustered.

“i kept telling hera i missed you everyday when i got home before i fell asleep,” you informed, making the boy smile. “i think she got sick of it, on the second day, she stopped sleeping on the bed with me.”

vinnie let out a laugh, kissing your cheek. “i missed this.” was all vinnie said before hugging you tightly.

“i feel so safe with you, v. its hard to fall asleep when you’re not snuggled into me. im glad you’re home.” you say, hugging the boy just as tight as he did you.

this was his home — having you in his arms, breathing the same air as him. he don’t know what he’d do without you by his side everyday.

“i’m here forever, baby. i’m not leaving you ever.” he informed.

the two of you laid there, in each others arms as you basked in the feeling of being together again after being apart for what felt like eternity.

there was absolutely no place either of you would rather be.

this was SOOOOOOOO cute , i loved writing it !!!!

thank you for reading !! i hope all of you enjoyed !! <33

tags: @cosmicanakin , @anqeliclust , @native2princess , @visualbutterflysworld , @sturnioloshacker , @khackerr , @slvthrs , @bernelflo , @0strawberrysorbet0 , @laylasbunbunny , @kriissy4gov , @defnotayonna , @supabhad , @louloulemons-blog , @kayleighh , @hallecarey1 , @violet0182 , @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom , @jpg3 , @eddieslut69 , @khxna , @miilzzy

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Quiet Ones 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: I slept for like ten hours and it was fucking wild.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You watch the long needle slide out from under your skin. You don’t feel it much. That man, Lloyd, loops the tube around the IV bag stand. You sit in the bed still, disoriented and dull. You can feel the tension buzzing off of him, as if he’s holding himself back. That scares you more than anything he’s done. 

Before you can say or do anything, your stomach growls. The tumble is painful as your insides squeeze violently. He looks at you and takes your hand, tugging you towards the edge as he snickers. 

“Hungry, jellybean?” He teases, “come on. I’ll make you a nice omelet.” He pulls until you shimmy across the bed. You turn your legs out and can’t help but use his strength to stand. He’s patient as he easily hauls you up. “You okay, babykins? I could carry you. Like before.” 

“N-no,” you try to wiggle your hand free but his grip is unbreakable. He squeezes and you quit your resistance. 

“You might be a bit groggy, that’s normal. The smoke, the meds--” 

“Meds?” 

“Well, I slipped a bit extra in the bag,” he shrugs as he glances over at the IV, “just so you could sleep.” 

You look at him, your horror burning from your eyes. He grins proudly and swings your arm, turning to lead you to the door. You take short steps, muscles stiff and achy, shoulders wracked from sleeping on your back. You look down at yourself and shudder; at least you’re still wearing your own clothes. 

“I’ve been doing cooking classes. I can do a florentine that will blow your tits off,” he boasts as he angles you through the door. 

The hall is airy and echoey. The house must be huge. You get that sense easily. You don’t need to go around and count the rooms. He takes you down the long hallway and you stop at the top of a set of stairs. They bend in the middle but more corning, there’s a large space between each. They’re polished to a shine and look slippery as the morning reflects off of them. 

“Just a step at a time,” he goads as you latch onto the railing.  

You put a foot down and grip both him and the railing. Another tide of wooziness comes over you. It could be what he gave you or your days of restriction, but it’s too much. The world is too much. 

“That’s it, baby,” he coos as you take a second step down.  

This is strange. It reminds you of a movie you watched as a kid with a maze and twisting and turning walkways and a taunting villain. You’ve awoken in his trap and you see no escape in sight. 

You slip on the third and let out a squeak as you feel yourself falling. He’s quick to catch you, scooping you up easily even in the narrow space. He lifts you and continues down swiftly, bringing you onto flat ground. You murmur and rub your head as you feel his heartbeat against your arm. 

You feel a tickle in your hair and hear him take a deep breath. Is he smelling you? You repress a shiver at the thought as your eyes struggle to focus on the shapes all around you.  

He carries you into another room, a kitchen, as spacious and sleek as any other part of the strange house. A white marble counter lines two walls and wraps around into full C, marking off the cooking space. On the other side, there’s glass table in an abstract, asymmetric shape with metal frame chairs around it. The whole place is out of one of those design magazines. All impractical at the expense of aesthetic. 

He sits you in one of the chairs, it’s just a rigid as you expect. He stays bent, holding you by the shoulders until your hold yourself up. He drags his hands down your arms as he reluctantly pulls away. You flutter your lashes and rub your eye sockets, trying to block out your reality. 

“My sleepy bean,” he beams and plants a kiss on the top of your head. “So how about it? Eggs florentine? Or are you in the mood for something a bit sweeter? I’ve perfected my crepes.” 

You grumble and drop your hands slowly, crossing your arms as a chill rolls through you. You feel it pricking in your chest and across your skin. You’re not wearing a bra and your tee shirt is thin. You keep your arms locked. 

You listen to him moving around. You don’t know what to do. You’re too weak to do anything. Even if you could get on the other side of the walls, you have no idea where you are. Where help could be. 

You rock as your fear bubbles up. Why is he doing this? Why does he think you want him? Why you? Of all people. You mind your business, you keep your head down, eyes to yourself... you don’t deserve this. 

You glance over at him as he starts to hum. Your lip quivers as you watch his shoulders blades stretch the fabric of his shirt. He’s a bit ridiculous in a full set of satin pajamas, the dark black speckled with a subtle grey leopard print. He’s too much. 

You turn your head straight and let it hang. You resign yourself to helplessness. You have to be logical about this. You can’t spark his suspicion to soon. You have to wait for a window and then... figure that out, you guess. You don’t like uncertainty. You have a routine and you keep to it. That’s what keeps you safe. Or so you thought. 

“...wise men say, only fools rush in...” he sings softly and you wince. The lyrics of the Elvis ballad make your skin crawl. He’s actually deranged. You don’t know him, you're strangers. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I know tree nuts are a no go,” he chimes as he whisks, turning to you with a broad smile.  

You blink at him. How does he know that? 

“Don’t think you’ll be needing any but I also got penicillin on the no go list and the latex thing... there’s alternatives,” he chuckles and you furrow your brow. “How’s that ticker doing? You been taking lots of iron?” 

Your body hollows out. How much does he know about you? How? You can guess he’s snooped around your medical records. Obviously, he’s a man with criminalistic leanings. Is this even his house? Has he taken you to a fortress he commandeered by force? Is there some terrified family bound in the basement? Is there a basement? 

He continues to futz around the kitchen as you curl your shoulders down and chew on your lips. Speaking of your heart, it’s beating again, racing, almost painfully. You’re a mouse trapped in the corner by the feline with his bristly whiskers. 

Your eyes wander over to the large windows and you stare out at the curated landscape. The property is beautiful and lush. You imagine a whole team maintains the perfectly trimmed hedges and colourful blooms. The stone mosaic pathway and the leafy archway over a bench. It’s like a dream, more so, a twisted nightmare painted in hues of fantasy. 

A plate clinks down before you and a sweet aroma brings you back inside. You face forward as Lloyd steps back on his heel, watching you with anticipation. You look at him then the plate. He pulls out a chair and plops himself down, planting his elbow as he cups his chin and watches. 

“Let me know what you think,” he insists. 

You take a breath and unlock your arms. Slowly, you drag them apart and take the thick butter knife and long fork. The cutlery feels too big for your small hands. You lean forward as the drizzle of dark syrup across the rolled crepe lures you in. Your stomach roars noisily and he giggles. 

“Aw, you must be starving,” he muses, “please eat, baby, I don’t want you to ever go hungry again.” 

You exhale through a ripple of disgust. You cut into the thin crepe and into the filling. Slice off the end of the roll and scoop it up with the filling. You carefully open your mouth around the fork and take a bite. Your eyes flit up to meet Lloyd’s as his gaze sticks on you. There are flames in his blue irises. 

You pull your mouth off the fork in embarrassment as he hums. He’s a weird, weird man. All of this is weird. Surreal. 

You look down at the butter knife and contemplate the gold cutlery. It’s heavy, it would hurt if you used the handle to give him a conk, but the blade is too dull to do much. It can slice through a crepe but wouldn’t do much on meat and bone. You don’t think you could do it, either. The thought of hurting others is just unnatural. 

“Is it good? Tried my own combination,” he explains happily, “dark chocolate syrup, not too much sugar, some softened cream cheese in the middle with black cherry jam.” 

You swallow and look around for something to wipe your lips. Short of a napkin, you lick your lip and clamp them together. He shifts in his chair, an act that makes you feel uncomfortable. 

“Good,” you croak. 

“Oh, wait,” he stands suddenly, “your coffee. Oopsie.” 

He struts away and your stomach mulches the single bite greedily. As much as you want to be stubborn, you’re so hungry. And it’s delicious. It’s better than your usual flavourless fare. You could gobble it all down in a second but you won’t. You carefully cut out another bite as he returns with a tall mug.  

He puts the cup down by your plate. You gulp down a forkful and set down the cutlery. You consider the mug before you take it, the white porcelain marked with the golden outline of a rose above the letter ‘Mrs.’. He has another in his hands, black but with a bowtie above ‘Mr.’. What the hell? 

“Colombian dark roast. A little less caffeine so your heart won’t mind so much,” he says. 

You nod and take the cup. The thought of coffee is enough to override your agitation. You take a sip and hold back a sigh. It’s good. You hate all of this but it’s all so good. You put the cup back and return your attention to the crepes. You pause and glance up at him. He doesn’t have a plate, just his cup. 

“Oh, jellybean, you’re so sweet,” he smirks, “I gotta keep my protein up. I’ll have some eggs and a shake soon. Right now, you just worry about you.” 

You dip your chin down and focus on eating. Small bites. You don’t want to seem too greedy. You don’t want him to see how much you need this. Does he know everything? Of course, he was watching but did he know the days you spent feeling as if your stomach was eating itself? 

He pushes his hair back, trying to tidy the long strands as he watches you, “we’ll get washed up after breakfast. Then you can get settled in and relax. I’ll take care of everything else, alright? You just need to get all dolled up when the time comes,” he explains as he drags his fingertip around the tabletop, “not that you need to do very much.” 

You just chew. What can you say or do? This man is straight up crazy. Not only are you his prisoner, he’s been stalking you. It doesn’t matter when it started, look where it’s ended. No, this can’t be the end. 

“What’s...” you speak before you can think. You shake your head and smother your question with another bite. 

“What? Go on, sugar lips, ask me anything? You wanna know my favourite colour? My favourite song?” His cheeks tint pink as he plays with a button on his pajamas. 

You clear your throat and put down the fork and knife, “what’s going on... later?” 

He tilts his head curiously. 

“The... dress and... doll up?” You repeat his words flatly. 

“That’s a surprise,” he trills as if it should be obvious. “Don’t wanna spoil it, do we?” 

“I guess,” you sit back and fold your hands in your lap. 

“You don’t gotta think about anything, sweet cheeks. You leave the thinking to me. I’m gonna take care of you,” he avows as his hand stretches across the front of his satin shirt. “You just gotta be you.” 

You feel his gaze bearing down on you. You peek up to find his eyes slipping down and you feel them centre on your tee shirt, your nipples poking against the cotton. You hunch your shoulders and cross your arms again. 

“How’s the coffee, jelly bean? You like it?” He tears his attention from your chest. 

“Good, thank you,” you murmur. 

“Ugh, I love hearing your voice,” he puts his coffee down and reaches between his legs. You blanch as he drags his chair closer as he lifts himself. He puts his hand on your knee, stroking with his thumb, “will you call me ‘honey’?” 

You stare at him. Your cheek draw tight and your lips flatten. You want to shake off his touch and scream but that foggy glaze in his eyes deters you. This man is wild. 

“Okay, er,” you gulp tightly and cough, “honey.” 

He hums into a sigh and his hand slips higher on your leg before trail back down, “oh,” he shakes his shoulders, “that tingles. Do it again.” 

You fight not to let your true emotion blaze through. You hug yourself tighter and bite down before you can muster the word, “honey.” 

“Oh, baby, that’s nice,” he winks and sits back, eyes grazing up and down your body, “you cold? You’re all twisted up like a pretzel.” 

You nod. It's an excuse you’ll gladly take. 

“Why didn’t you say something sooner, jellybean?” He stands suddenly and you notice the way he tugs on the waistband of his pants. You turn your head, blurring your vision so everything around you is vague. 

He rushes off and you wait. You don’t know what else to do. You’re still too weak to make a move. Whatever he gave you is potent. Or maybe, you’re just too scared to do more than shrink and surrender. 

He returns with a fluffy purple robe in his hands. He comes around the back of your chair and you lean forward to let him drape it around you. He curls his hands over your shoulders and bends over you. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. 

“You need more coffee, baby cakes?” He asks as he kneads your shoulders. 

“Still working on it,” you pull away from him and grab the cup, “thank you...” you let the words dangle in the silence, tension piquing, “honey.” 

He sighs and draws away with a tickle up your neck, “mmm, isn’t this wonderful?” 

[mintmatcha]

cw: a weird vent piece lol, suicide mention, no quirks au, mentally ill reader

You always fuck with your shirt on. You'd wear more, if you could, but you haven't figured out how to do it with your pants on yet.

You pull the sheets over your sweat chilled legs and hope he didn't notice the spots you missed shaving. If he did, Natsuo doesn't seem to mind. His arm is tucked under your head, muscle fibers occasionally twitching underneath you and turning the soft mass dense.

Sometimes, Natsuo keeps his shirt on too. Neither of you have ever asked the other about it; there's a mutual understanding when a hand is stopped.

"Do you work tonight?" he asks.

You shake your head as his body relaxes deeper into the mattress.

"I'm gonna do laundry if you want to throw your stuff in," he mumbles, "I'll get you junk to sleep in."

The medical textbooks he was studying are still on the floor, flipped to random pages of different cycles and tissues, abandoned in exchange for you. If Natsuo fails his midterms, it'll be your fault. If he passes, he'll be leaving the city next semester for his hospital rotations.

Part of you wants him to fail. It's that dirty, evil part that no one else seems to have, the part you try to starve, but it keeps growing anyway. It nips at you whenever the room gets too quiet.

It's teeth are extra sharp today.

"You're so sweet." You speak into his skin, "I don't know how you're still single."

A sharp inhale is sucked through his teeth, cutting through his smile. Natsuo takes in all of your features and you know he's wondering why you're saying these things-- why you're purposefully bringing this up.

"Well, sweetie-" His tone is light, like he's avoiding stepping on glass, stepping on glass. With every word, he walks his fingers on your arm, spanning from elbow to shoulder, "I'm only single because you keep turning me down."

The overhead fan whizzes. The part you try to starve sinks its teeth into your chest.

"Natsuo, we've talked about this," you say, "I don't date."

You sit up and swing a leg over him, straddling his hips. A trail of white hair runs down his stomach and down under the sheets, disappearing where the two of you meet. He holds you by the hem of your tee, just tight enough to hold you in place.

"Would it be so bad?" he whispers.

"Here's what would happen, alright?" You brush your fingers through his sweat touched hair and it bounces right back into place the second you pull away. It makes you giggle a bit and he mirrors you, an unsure, foolish optimism in his eyes, "Let's just say I met this wonderful, beautiful boy and tricked-"

"Tricked?" he scoffs.

"Tricked him into loving me." You want to kiss him, but it feels cruel for both of you. Instead, you just cup his jaw in your hands and cradle him, letting the weight of him slump into your palms, "He'd treat me right and bring me home to meet his parents, 'cause he was raised right and, even though he's really smart, he'd think he's in love."

Fingers squeeze at your hips.

"But the second I left, his parents would tell him that he deserves someone prettier and smarter and, and, and better," you say, "And they'd be right."

“My mom’s nice," He drops your pretense with a whisper, ruining your not so careful charade. “She wouldn’t say that.”

He doesn’t mention his dad. There’s a silent sentence there. One that says, “But he might.” It’s hard to keep your brain from sticking to that point, from sticking your thumb into this metaphorical soft spot.

“I mean, she wouldn’t say it out loud, but she’d think it," you say, “She’d sit there and think ‘that girl's not good enough for my son' and she'd be right."

He scoff he lets out is uneasy, almost a songed laugh, more pained than annoyed. "My mom is nice."

This conversation is hurting him, but you can't stop yourself.

"And they'd tell you to break up with me, but you wouldn't listen to them, 'cause you're head strong like that. You'd probably date me in spite of them for while," you ramble, "But then you'd go away and you'd meet some pretty, normal girl and you'd realize they were right. They were always right. I was right."

The overhead fan whizzes.

"So, it's better if I just don't date at all,"

Natsuo's grip dissolves and you think you see it then - the moment whatever is between you dies. A hollowness passes over his features, empty eyes and sucked cheeks, as he ducks his head down to rest his face against your chest. Chin against the soft of your tits, he seems farther away than ever.

You could gloat. You could cry. You're a self-fulfilling prophecy once again.

Natsuo sighs and his words slip so easily from him that you almost don't process what he's saying. "You're so sad. I wish you'd get help."

That catches you off guard. The control over this conversation is ripped away, your curtain drops, and you suddenly feel very, horribly seen.

"What?" You try to laugh it off, leaning back to escape the way he watches you.

"Sometimes I wake up and you're not here," he says, "And I worry that's the last time I'll ever see you."

You understand the implication.

"I'm not gonna kill myself." It might be the truth, you think.

"Yeah," His arms wrap around your waist again, snaking the air from your lungs, "Touya promised me that too."

Touya is only ever mentioned over too many beers and tears you're not allowed to remember the next morning. He was only 16, only a couple years older than Natsuo, but the ghosts still linger to this day, always tucked into the back of the room, stalking, haunting.

Natsuo comes from money and fame. His apartment is paid for by his father. He's never had to work to afford food. At first, you resented him for that; you wanted that ease and safety his family afforded him.

But everything comes at a cost. Every unhappy family is unhappy in there own ways.

"I'm sorry that you keep loving things that break." That is the truth. You're just the end of a line of his mistakes, starting all the way at mom and dad and trailing through every girlfriend ever since.

"I do love you. And it's not despite the fact you're 'broken'," Natsuo takes your hand with a resounding firmness. It reminds you of that thing they say about golden retrievers; the smart ones can hold an egg in their jaws without shattering the shell. Natsuo holds you like he understands you in some deep, intrinsic way, "Or because of it or whatever."

He doesn't look away, those bright, wide eyes bluer than ever.

"I just like all your little pieces." He kisses your knuckles one by one, trailing from thumb to pinkie to thumb again.

The room is silent. The bad part of you is no longer begging to eat. Maybe it's full for now, but you know it's just out of focus, stalking in the dark, biding its time.

"You should study." You slip from him and reclaim your own space in the bed. After a long, simple pause, Natsuo gets up himself, collecting his boxers from the floor.

"Yeah," he says, "You're right."

The hurt you've caused is no longer comfortable to live in. Your mouth is dry, thirsty for a change you're not sure how to make. Recovery feels like a big leap-- loving and being loved feels every farther away.

All you can do is shuffle your feet against the sheets and take the tiniest step towards normalcy.

"Do you want to get brunch tomorrow before your classes?" you offer your olive branch, your silent promise, "I'll pay."

He weighs this, measuring it for sincerity, then smiles just wide enough your get a glimpse of teeth.

"Let me get you something to sleep in."

For now, it's enough.

[dorkydiaz]

CAN I GO WHERE YOU GO? 920 words | bucktommy | 7x06 coda a/n: look it me! i wrote something :P just a soft little thing that i couldn't stop thinking about <3 idek how long it has been since i published something episode related lol so be kind and gentle if you please<3 title is kinda just what fit best lol, enjoy!

Buck twirls his niece around as music plays quietly over a speaker, barely loud enough to hear over the quiet chatter. He swings her up and deposits her next to her newly-wed parents, and they look perfect. Buck remembers the reception of her first wedding, his cheeks didn’t hurt from smiling then, they do now, and by the looks of it so do Maddie’s. 

“You might want to–” she points toward the chair in the corner that holds his beast of a boyfriend, a bottled water coming dangerously close to slipping from his exhaustion-induced slack grip. 

“I should get him home, the adrenaline has worn off. I love you both so much, and you,” he ruffles Jee’s hair and leans in for a group hug, placing a kiss in his sister's hair. If he thinks too hard about everything he might cry, so he leaves unsaid and squeezes her tight hoping she understands. 

He takes the water bottle from Tommy’s hands and stands between his legs, gently cupping his cheek, “Hey, you are exhausted, let’s get you home. I’ll drive you.” 

And Tommy looks up at him through his eyelashes– how had Buck not noticed those before now? 

“You don’t have to– you should stay here. I’m sure Maddie–” 

“What she wants is for me to get you home safely, and visiting hours are almost over anyway.”

He can see Tommy trying to come up with a rebuttal, his mouth opening and closing as he tries to say something and then gives up.

Buck grabs Tommy’s turnout coat from the back of the chair, folding it over his arm and taking Tommy’s hand in his. 

“Congratulations again you two,” Tommy says as enthusiastically as he can before they turn toward the door.

—

Buck is awkwardly sitting at a table in the common area of Harbor. It feels weird to be in another station without his reason for being there within sight. Tommy had assured him that it was okay for him to sit, and if anyone gave him trouble to tell them that he was there with him. 

“Buckley! What are you doing here?” a familiar voice nearly makes him jump out of his seat. 

“Lu-Lucy! Hi.” 

She stands behind the chair across from him, leaning on her elbows on the top of the chair. And she actually waits for him to answer. 

“I-I’m waiting for Tommy. Had to swing by to drop off his turnouts and get his bag.”

Her brow crinkles a little and she cocks her head, “his shift ended hours ago?” 

“He uhhh, he came to Maddie and Chimney’s wedding. He’s pretty exhausted so I’m driving him home.” 

“He went to a wedding after that fire? In his turnouts?”

“It was at the hospital, wild story really. And I asked him to be there, so he was.” he blushes a little as he watches her do a little math. 

“Donato! Are you bullying Evan?” Buck can hear the smile on Tommy’s lips as he feels his hand land on his shoulder. He looks up at his boyfriend, and Tommy leans down, giving him a light kiss on his cheek. He looks a little brighter after rinsing off in the station showers and changing back into his Henley. 

“I was wondering why you had table privileges,” she smiles. “So, Chim finally got hitched huh, tell him and Maddie congrats for me.”

“Will do,” Buck smiles at her, and she walks away toward what he assumes is the snack cabinet. “Let’s get out of here and you into bed huh?” 

“You read my mind.” 

—

There’s a stillness in the car as they sit in Tommy’s driveway. 

“Evan, come inside. You’ve had a long stressful day too.” 

It’s like Tommy is inside his head, he doesn’t want to be alone tonight, not when he didn’t have to be. 

“And if the texts you sent me last night are any indication, you also did it all while hungover which I’m sure wasn’t all that pleasant. And, besides, you still owe me at least one dance.” 

“You are practically falling asleep sitting up and you want to dance?” 

“It’s what I was promised.” 

TOmmy reaches over the console between them, turning Buck’s face toward him, leans in and kisses him in earnest. Not quite as intense as their greeting earlier and not as gentle as their first. “Just come inside please,” he says just above a whisper against his lips. 

“Okay.” 

—

Buck takes in Tommy’s little house, it’s cozy with some of its years showing. 

“You can move past the entryway Evan. Just take your shoes off.” 

“Oh,” he replies softly, barely having noticed that he was slightly frozen. He toes off his shoes.

“C’mere,” Tommy holds out his hand, a song that Buck doesn’t know the name of softly drifting from the speakers. He lands in his boyfriend’s arms and it feels like it’s exactly where he is supposed to be. One hand on his neck, the other clasped together in Tommy’s, his other hand resting on his waist. It’s mostly quiet as they sway in the middle of the small living room. 

“You know, I never really got the whole hot firefighter thing until I saw you walk through those doors?” 

“You really are adorable.” Tommy smiles.

“Thank you for today. It means a lot that you did really try your damndest and succeeded.” He says earnestly. 

“Of course. It was important to you.” 

And Buck can’t help but kiss him for that, and he does, because he can. 

[adventuringblind]

Joint Coping

Lestappen x Reader

Genre: Angst

Dialouge: "Help me understand."

Summary: Max helps his partners learn to cope in healthy ways

Warnings: Selh-harm, unhealthy Coping, blood, Ferrari, Max being the sane one of the group

Notes: I would like to emphasize that this is a thing that does happen. I know because I've done it. This specifically is not something to be glorified at all. Self-harm done in groups can become competitive. This is a pretty toned down version of things I've experienced and it's less toxic. THIS IS NOT REACHING OUT. Just wanted to clarify :)

This is part of my 1000 follower celebration! Requests are still open if you'd like to participate (the link will take you to the request form).

Masterlist

Max knows something is wrong with his partners. It's like an itch in his brain he can't scratch. A sixth sense, if you will.

The two Ferrari drivers are struggling with their team. Every problem is their fault. They have become the Ferrari scapegoats. When they do poor, it's the driver. When they do good, it's the team and the car.

He's coming to the end of his patience. If he has to hear them self deprecate one more time he might actually consider making them stand in the mirror and say nice things about themselves. Can he fuck it out of them? Is that a possibility? He really doesn't know but is desperate and willing to try anything.

They both DNF at the next race. Max is a man on a mission through media and debrief. He needs to see that they are okay. At the very least not sitting through some kind of lecture a parent gives to a child.

He sprints to the Ferrari garage and runs into Carlos. Despite his injury that took him out of the season, he still comes to support his team and teammates.

"Carlos!" The Spainard spins around to face him. "Have you seen-?"

"They already left over an hour ago. Did they not text you?"

There are warning bells going off inside of his head. Something is clearly wrong and they aren't telling him about it. He's about to sprint away when Carlos stops him.

"Before you go, you should that there were some awful things said by their engineers and they looked really upset about it."

"Thanks Carlos."

Max is back at the hotel as fast as he can manage. He tried both their cells with no answer. It's killing him from the inside out with anxiety. He's probably just overthinking, but it'll feel better when he sees they are okay.

He keys the door open and doesn't bother taking off his shoes. The lights are off aside from the one in the bathroom. Maybe they decided a nice relaxing bath would do the trick. Max could also go for one. He pushes that thought aside for now.

He knocks gently on the door. "You two in there?" No response. Or at least - not one to him directly. There are a few hushed whispers, but nothing loud enough for him to hear.

He waits Aproximatley ten seconds before he can't handle it anymore and swings the door open. He expects to see fogged mirror and water on the floor. Instead he's met with the sight red wrists and thighs.

He's lost. Max Verstappen has no idea what to do.

They are stripped down to undergarments. Legs dangling over the side of tub. A switchblade in the hands of Charles. They both look teary eyed and doped out. Are they enjoying this?

God, he feels so stupid. Weeks of having Sex with no lights on, sweatshirts in hot weather, no swimming and doing private ice bathes away from trainers. He should've noticed. Max could've stopped this sooner. He wants to rewind and tell them to come to him instead of relying on this to get the through.

"Guess you caught us." Charles let's out a half assed laugh. "You gonna stare at us all night? Or can we get the yelling part over with? Last three partners left us when they caught it. I understand if it's to much. Not your burden."

Max had been a later addition. The two in the bathtub had been together since their teenage years. Had they been Coping like this for so long?

"Sorry about the mess. Relapses are hard. We made it all season until a month ago." She leans her head onto Charles' shoulder. How can they make this type of environment endearing? This is unreal and they need serious help. Which Max will eventually get them when he can get his act together.

He kneels on the floor in between them. Max is just now registering the tears on his cheeks. They'd been in pain for so long. It hurts him just thinking about it.

"I'm not going to yell-" he looks at one. "-I'm not going to leave-" he looks at the other. "But help me understand. I want to help."

"It's easier to do with someone else around. It's more therapeutic." The lopsided smile on the female's face is not helping Max. He has to many questions.

First, he gets them cleaned up. Neither of them flinch when he disenfects the wounds. They don't look at him as he wraps them in whatever gauz is in the first aid kit. They look ashamed as he puts the knife in his bag and rinses the tub.

The one that gets him, however, is the look of pure confusion when Max hugs them both so tightly. It's like they don't know how to respond.

They sit in a circle on the bed. It's comfortable and Max can see both their expressions clearly.

"I know the struggle." He starts. "Punishing yourself is better then someone else doing it, right? But I had Daniel there reminding me to reach out."

"It's just easier this way."

"Easier isn't better. Look at the state you're in. I'm not leaving, but I am getting the both of you help."

He followed through with this the next morning. Then looked supposed to see him when they woke up. He, and his childish mind, kissed all the cuts and scars. Every single one of them received proper treatment.

The female cried and thre her arms around Max. Charles had looked away in shame. The reasons they started this are still foreign to him, but that's not his priority.

He gets them help. All of them, mind you. They do group sessions as the three of them to find healthier ways to cope with each other.

Reasons seem to fade into the background because they don't matter as much. The important thing is that Max caught it in time. That he didn't lose them to their own minds. They are partners, and Max would be devistated to lost someone he loves to those dark places.

He rests easier now that the itch has been scratched. His partners are doing better. They smile and laugh at his stupid jokes again. A bit of confidence regained.

And Max reminds them daily that nothing is worth it if you have to destroy yourself for it. Drivers or not, he loves them regardless.

[aemonds-sapphire]

Take a Seat

Summary: You tell Aemond you can´t stand him. He invites you to take a seat.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW. Face riding. Oral sex. Aemond is a tease. Aemond's nose is amazing. Masturbation. Aemond’s POV.

Word count: 1.3k

“Aemond!”

Your screech reverberated through the walls of his bedchambers.

The young prince reckoned it wouldn’t take much longer before your angry voice was heard yet again.

“Aemond!”

There it was.

A wave of satisfaction rippled along his entire body as anticipation gradually built up.

“Where are my clothes?” you bellowed in frustration from inside the bathing room. “Your sister awaits me! I will be late.”

Truth be told, Aemond dreaded having to part ways with you this early in the morning. Selfishness might be an overstatement.

He preferred to see it as a need.

The need to have you around and all to himself.

To consume all of you.

So, he decided to hide your clothes and bath towel while you were readying yourself for another day at court.

Quite a dull a fair, in his opinion.

He could deliver so much more to you than a day of walking around behind his sister and tending to her needs.

What about his needs?

And yours?

His antics proved to be enough to kindle your anger and frustration, which would only work in his favour in the end.

The dragon always comes out victorious.

As soon as your burst into the room, dripping wet and ready to pounce him, Aemond felt a rush of blood flooding downwards in a subtle tingling sensation.

“What did you do with my clothes?” you growled, taking large steps in his direction. “I will be late!”

Aemond merely shrugged, grateful that his ever growing erection was neatly hidden away from you under the bed cover.

He watched in sheer delight as you grabbed a pillow and tossed it at him, which he promptly deflected with one hand, his reflexes sharp as ever.

“You are so… infuriating!” you sighed in exasperation.

A teasing smile curled his lips. Getting under your skin had become one of his favourite pastimes. It got you all riled up with this pent-up tension that he’d so gladly fuck out of you.

But then something else crossed his mind.

Oh… you were probably going to flip at this.

But he was feeling particularly daring and willing to push you a little more than usual.

“I’m feeling feverish,” he started. “There’s this pain….”

And just as he had predicted, the visible traces of anger on your face faded into a worried look.

You sat naked on the edge of the bed, placing the back of your hand to his forehead.

“Where does it hurt?”

Aemond lifted the bedsheets, revealing his hard cock to you. “Here.”

You immediately scowled at how shameless he was.

“I was seriously worried!”

And just as you stood up and were about to smack him, he took the opportunity to grab both your wrists and had your leg swing over his body with such refined skill you were left sitting on his bare torso at lightning speed.

You tried to jerk free from his grasp. “Aemond! I’m going to be late!”

He honestly couldn’t care less. Having you fully naked and on top of him only served to further ignite his desire for you.

“Your sister awaits me near the gates of King’s Landing,” you huffed in annoyance. “We are going for a walk today.”

“I’ll fly you there on Vhagar if I have to,” he said casually, rubbing both thumbs along your pulse points. “I am sure my sister can do without you for a while, my lady.”

Once again, you yanked both arms in an attempt to break free, but all in vain. He was far too strong, and he wasn’t willing to let go of you just yet.

“I cannot stand you!” you growled menacingly.

What a blatant lie.

All that forced outrage had his cock twitch in anticipation. How he adored fucking you into submission, peeling off all those layers that you so vehemently insisted on keeping on just to have him crawl for you.

You were aware of your hold on him. If you really wanted to, you’d be able to bend him to your will.

He’d do everything and anything for you.

“Say that again.”

Your eyes narrowed with renowned defiance. “I cannot stand you.”

“Then sit on my face.”

Your eyes then widened in surprise. “What?”

Aemond wanted to let go of his hold on you have his hands cup your breasts, but he decided against it. He wanted to make sure you were fully committed to him.

“Let me taste you,” he insisted, his cock throbbing lightly.

You faltered briefly as you clenched your thighs around him. “You’re so…”

“So what, my lady?”

Aemond then let go of you, knowing fully well he had you trapped.

“Infuriating.”

“I’ll take that as compliment,” he said and with one hand, he smacked your ass lightly, but you didn’t budge.

“I… I am going to be late…”

Aemond was a patient man, but his patience was wearing thin. “Then stop wasting time and ride my face.”

You hesitated at first, but caved in eventually. He slid his pillow to the side so that he could be the perfect seat for you. Carefully, you lifted yourself from him before finally settling directly above his face.

Aemond wouldn’t mind parting ways with life with the sight of your inviting pussy as his last memory.

What a glorious way to go.

He nearly letting out a groan and a sigh of relief rumbled across his chest the moment you were fully sitting on him.

Instinctively, he brought both hands to grip your thighs. The delicious moan that escaped your lips was incentive enough for him and without much effort he parted his lips and delved his tongue deep inside you.

Delicious.

“Oh…”

You were so fucking endearing. The fact that you were still surprised that he could deliver all that pleasure with just a few strokes of his skillful tongue did wonders to his ego.

Your folds encased the corners of his mouth, as if trying to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere.

And he had no intention of doing so.

Aemond was well aware of how to increase the pleasure he delivered to you.

He knew you would quiver from feeling his nose pressing into your swollen clit.

The moment he did so, his hands had to grip your thighs harder to keep you in place from all the shuddering.

An intense shiver ran down his spine as he was able to feel the pulse from your throbbing clit on his nose.

Truthfully, he simply could never get tired of how your body responded to him so eagerly.

His hips to shot up reflexively as his cock twitched from the need to be buried inside you.

“Aemond… not … not the—”

Your words faded and turned into a pleasurable moan as soon as his tongue went deeper, forcing his nose to press into you harder than before.

Aemond was still able to watch you gripping the headboard for support, before shutting his eyes as overwhelming bliss filled him. His cock throbbed with each heartbeart and the skin at the base pulling as he hardened even more.

He kept tongue-fucking you, drinking in your juices and your whimpers. Your wetness was now spreading across his chin, and he brought one of his hands to free his cock from the sheet on top, allowing it to spring free. The dire need to fuck you was ever growing.

But he had would have you reach your peak on his face rather than his around his cock.

The way his nose rubbed your clit caused your hips to buck and jerk from the stimulation, forcing his other hand to increase his grip even more on you to keep you in place as you were riding his face.

“Oh… oh… Aemond…”

You were done for.

And so was he.

He wrapped his fingers around his leaking and needy cock, yearning for nothing more than relief. It was becoming unbearable to feel your heartbeat invade his mind and travel down his body in rhythmic waves of pleasure.

A high-pitched moan fell from your lips. “Aemond… my prince… please…”

Aemond had no need of your words of approval or praise or bliss. He could feel your pleasure and that was all he needed.

Showing was far more saturated than telling.

The obscene slurping sounds coming from him were enough to have his hips jerk once again as he fucked his hand desperately.

He was too close.

Almost embarrassingly so.

He was aware that pumping his own cock drastically hindered his endurance. There was only so much he could withstand.

Soon enough, he felt your thighs begin to quiver erratically as he ran his tongue along the sensitive clit.

With a few more jerks from your hips, you were catapulted into your orgasm, shaking violently into his face while raking your fingers through his hair before gripping a few strands forcefully.

“Good… so good…” you cried out too lost in your own pleasure as a gush of your wetness flooded his tongue.

Not long after, he felt your legs begin spasm uncontrollably. And he didn’t just feel this because they were tightening around his head; he felt your every contraction and twitch as he brought his nose to tease your swollen bud, tongue still lodged between your soaked folds.

And that was precisely what pushed him over the edge.

The overwhelming pleasure took over him completely and Aemond reached the point of no return. Hot spurts of cum shot from his tip with each spasm of his own body; the muscles in his thighs and lower abdomen tightened along with his balls.

No words in High Valyrian or any other tongue could do justice to the intense pleasure that took over him.

A few strands of hot liquid ran down his fingers, but he paid no mind to the mess. His own heart pounded insanely loud inside his ears and he stopped breathing for a moment as a guttural growl ripped through his throat through gritted teeth.

You slid off to the side, allowing his deep groans to echo around the bedchamber.

Aemond’d endurance was something he took pride in, but a powerful release was still enough to have him panting and feeling lightheaded. Your juices were spread across his chin and lips and jaw and nose with a few drops running down his face.

“I still cannot stand you…” you struggled to say in between pants.

He licked the excess liquid from his lips, locking his eye with your hazy ones. “Are you challenging me to bring you to your peak once more?”

“I am already late,” you protested, struggling to slide out of bed and nearly tripping as your legs wobbled from having your strained leg muscles.

Aemond couldn’t help but to chuckle as you tried your best to keep your balance.

“I will carry you to Vhagar and fly you there,” he offered. “I doubt you’ll be able to walk regardless.”

It was in moments like these that Aemond was thankful to his fast reflexes as his hand prevented yet another pillow from reaching his face.