#not back or anything Im still VERY busy but just in case!!

[troop52]

By the way if anyone has sent something or anything like that- I can't see it!! I legit think this blog is semi broken.

[propertyofwicked]

SECRETS part 2 - LN

lando x fewtrell!reader

no content warnings in this part, i promise the next part will have some actual fluff to it

part 1 -> part 2 -> part 3 -> part 4 -> part 5 -> part 6 -> part 7!

y/n was easily won over by chicken nuggets and a diet coke - a fact lando knew too well. both he and max had both spent almost hundreds on the food combo every time y/n was roped into one of their plans. whether she was lying to her parents to cover up where max had been all night, or even just being asked to hold a camera or a boom mic for a quadrant video, she was always rewarded with 6 chicken nuggets and a diet coke.

lando had in fact not included max in his late night plans, and very quickly made it known as to why.

“so, how’s uni?” he asked, warming her up for the incoming conversation, turning onto a side road and pulling the car to a stop.

“yea it’s good thanks, how’s driving?”

“could be better, i could be better,” he smiled sadly, but glad she asked about driving as she fell directly into his trap, “why did you stop coming to races?”

“lando,” she sighs his name, almost disappointed in him for even asking, “university’s a lot of work you know. i can’t fly around the world to watch you drive a car. and, i still watch the races - just from home.”

“so it’s nothing to do with me?”

“well ignoring me for a year doesn’t help your case, but no, it’s not to do with you. you know i’ll always be there when i can. when im invited,” the emphasis on invited hung like hot air in the car, and created and unsettling silence.

“lan, can i ask you a question?” she said, breaking the awkward atmosphere in the car.

“mhm, anything.”

“why did you stop talking to me? i know we’re not as close as you and max,” she adds, lando almost wincing at the mention of his best friend, “and i know you were busy being, you know, a superstar and that. but even over your break, i saw you like twice in passing.”

“im sorry y/n, honestly it wasn’t intentiona-”

“bullshit, try again norris. the truth this time.”

lando breathed in deep, as if to lock and load his next statement.

“max he, uh, he told me he’d seen some pictures of us. you remember that club in monaco?,” she nodded in response, remembering the encounter with lando that night in somewhat drunken detail, “he wasn’t happy with me. thought we had something going on behind his back. y/n when i say angry, i mean he was one step away from beating me up and then keying my car.”

“but there was nothi- i mean we weren’t d-”

“i know, i tried to tell him,” lando sighed, “he gets a bit, let’s say ‘over protective’ with you i guess. doesn’t trust me maybe? i don’t know.”

“so instead of letting me discuss it with him, you refused to acknowledge my existence for a year? yeah that’s mint, let’s do that,” she said, the sarcasm rolling off her tongue.

“i was a dick, ok - i’m sorry. but your brother is slightly terrifying when he’s angry. think he’s realised he was wrong - that’s why he let you come to the race im guessing.”

he was wrong - but was he? was max completely wrong to assume what he had? she thought the feelings were mutual but clearly lando had other ideas.

“can i drive your car?” y/n asked, smiling over to lando in the drivers seat. he’s started driving around aimlessly again, deciding to put an end to the conversation about where they stood with each other. his head whipped around to look at her, his eyebrows quirked up in a mix of confusion and immediate refusal. he wasn’t even driving one of his more expensive cars, as they all stayed in monaco. but of course, lando norris needs a high end car in every country.

“please, lan,” she said again, eyes widening in attempt to tug on his heart strings, “please. i miss driving, i haven’t driven since like, christmas since my car died and went to car heaven.”

“y/n, angel,” the nickname wasn’t something new, but it still flipped something about in her stomach, ”if anything, that makes me want to say no even more. besides, it’s automatic - you drive manual.”

“oh come on, it’s literally just a pedal for stop and go. please.”

“not tonight,” he said, looking at her to show his sad frown as if that would make her happy about the rejection, “if i get podium tomorrow, ill put some money towards getting you a new car.”

“lan, please you don’t have to do that.”

“i know i don’t have to. i want to. besides, if i get podium i think i owe my lucky charm something to show my gratitude, no?” he said. y/n knew this was an argument she wouldn’t win, so she smiled up at him, nodding slightly.

the car fell back into a silence, comfortable this time, with only the sound of lando’s music playing quietly out of the speakers, and the odd whooshing of a car driving past.

the car came to a still, the red light reflected on the their faces as they waited for the light to change.

“the stars look pretty tonight,” she said absentmindedly. y/n was never one to sit in silence without at least attempting to fill it.

“yeah, they do,” lando responded, although he wasn’t looking at the stars, moreover, he was staring directly at the light reflecting onto y/n’s face. his own mouth curling up into a smile when he saw your soft features grinning contently at the sky.

it was around 1am when y/n and lando returned to the hotel car park, casually discussing life at university and where y/n saw herself using her degree in the future.

“i think it’s better if we don’t tell max about this,” she mumbled, tilting her head to the side, catching lando’s eyes. her own eyes blinking slowly in exhaustion.

“i think so too. are you going to tell him what i said?”

“not right now. but i refuse to let him believe has any right to threaten his own friends in a bid to control my life,” she says, her body now twisted fully to face him directly.

“just,” he sighed, “dont get violent,” his hand reaching over to rest on her knee.

“me? violent? that is a bold accusation, norris.”

“y/n - i know you. just don’t be too harsh, he thought he was doing what was best.”

“thinking is always max’s downfall,” she responds with a snort. she turns her body back, arm reaching to grab the handle when lando catches her other arm, forcing her to look at him again.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“i’ll be there.”

sneaking back into a room was usually y/n’s specialty, but she’d never attempted to sneak past max before. rather, her teens were spent sneaking back into the house with max. unlocking the door and pulling the handle down, y/n pushed softly on the wood, but the creaking was so loud in the silence of their hotel room. the floor boards to her bag of clothes seemed to have a vendetta against her today too, she could’ve sworn they did not creak when she had walked across them earlier.

the bathroom tap decided to splutter loudly and spit freezing cold water down her, and the door to slide back open and allow the stream of light to fall directly on max’s face.

“y/n?” her brother groaned, “you just come back in?”

“yeah, sorry - i tried to be quiet,” she whispered back, turning the bathroom light off and stumbling gracefully through the dark room to the sofa.

“it’s 1am? you were in the gym for 3 hours?”

“erm, yeah,” her voice wavered in the lie, “i got distracted on the treadmill. tired myself out though.”

max grumbled something in response, too sleepy to say anything further.

the next morning max walked down to the hotel lobby, passing the gym in his journey for breakfast.

open 7:00 - 23:00

hang on, he thought to himself, shut at 11?

where had his sister been? she couldn’t have been in the gym till 1am, so where had she been, and why had she lied?

★ ☆ ✦ ✧ ✩ ✶

tag list: @harrysdimple05 @scopeiguess @hiireadstuff @landosgirlxoxo @natt9598 @phantomxoxo @val-writes

[joonipertree]

To show someone that you care, is a gift itself. | Sugar Daddy Bakugo Series

Where you show Katsuki what a gift can be.

Tags: Artist!reader, very self indulgent, like guys....please buy me watercolour paper instead of Versace. Watercolour paper is stupid expensive. Im also not skilled enough to actually make the gift so--

Pt 1 Pt 3

Katsuki's birthday had been looming when the two of you started going out, like a weighted shadow. You had spent a very long stressing about what to get him with a budget that wasn't even worth a fraction of what he would buy you.

But, like gift giving was Katsuki's, it was your love language as well. And you'd gotten good at getting heart felt things for people. Admittedly, it took a lot of brainstorming and notes upon notes of what to get.

You'd always go overboard to please the people you cared about, afraid that they'll leave if you didn't cross the limits and bend over backwards for them.

Katsuki had always taken care of you, never asked for anything and your love was returned albeit in a quieter and tsundere manner. So the urge to go above and beyond didn't fester for long, knowing that your bare presence made him warmer.

Your gift idea came when he was on the ring, swift on his feet and solid in the rigidness of his body. You'd brought your sketchbook and while you wanted to keep your eyes on your boyfriend, your hands became busy with large curves and sharp flicks of your pencil that brought dark edges .

You'd made at least 20 quick gestures drawings that were more crude representations of movement for you. But with those and the feelings you trapped in your heart, you made thumbnails and chose one to draw large scale.

One where Katsuki's face was partially blocked by his arm and he gave a blow. His elbows were jagged, muscles taut and rippling. And his eyes sharp and cat like.

The charcoal pencils and sticks used to create tapered lines to create hard surfaces was 340 yen. The watercolour pallete used had messy paint splattered everywhere and its lid broken, having been with you for a good while. The coat over the charcoal was 50 yen hair spray that worked just as well as professional sprays.

It didn't cost a lot but your hands were full of care and by the end of it, you hoped that it'd be something Katsuki would at least like. The man could have the world but all you had was you.

You didn't realize that you were more than enough

Katsuki to lost his voice when you handed it to him at midnight, eyes wide as he stared at him but not him. The layers on layers of paint held emotions that he could only describe as love, meticulously hand picked and felt in strokes. He'd seen HD pictures of his fights, seen videos of them where his sweat and pores were as clear as day. The most he'd thought of them were how his form could improve or how cool he looked.

But what you made, it twisted something in his chest and stung his eyes and filled him to the brim with love so warm and overwhelming that his body wasn't big enough to hold it.

You two had been dating for 4 months, Katsuki had spent that time falling in love with you in ways he didn't think possible. He'd fall with every giggle and kiss and ramble and your face when you were concentrating. He'd never said 'I love you', hoping his actions showed it enough, still too scared to speak it in case it was met with hesitance or silence.

But Katsuki had gently put down the canvas, something you that you'd built, stretched and primed yourself. And while you made eye contact with the walls and ceiling, you explained how the only thing you could come up with was the painting, that you wanted to capture the emotions you felt when you saw him fight. That it wasn't much but---

Katsuki had engulfed you in a hug, hand on the back of your head to press it against him and an arm around your waist. He squeezed you, tried to express all that he was feeling with one hug alone. You felt it, held him tightly and carded your fingers through his hair. With his shoulders shaking, you had an inkling that he had been crying. When he spoke, with a wobbly voice, you were sure that he was.

"I love you." He'd muttered out for the first time.

"I love you more." You whispered back and Katsuki had firmly denied it, that no one could love a person as much as he loved you.

Getting a gift for you became hard after that, because Katsuki sucked at making shit.

[kentopedia]

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ BY ANY OTHER NAME — dazai osamu

summary . . . dazai comes home after a week away, and you stay up late to surprise him with a gift.

contents . . . sfw, f!reader, pm boss dazai, dazai's pov, fluff, pet names, husband dazai <3, my unofficial valentine’s fic — 2.3k

notes . . . IM BACK !!!! he can stop whining about being neglected now (i missed him)

Dazai rubs his eyes as he walks in through the front doors of the Port Mafia headquarters, two of his men trailing behind him. The lights have been dimmed in the lobby, just bright enough to read through a sheet of paper without squinting. There are very few people loitering in the building, but that isn’t unusual for three o’clock in the morning. 

The sight of the lobby, as abysmal and dreary as it is, soothes the ache that’s been lingering in Dazai’s chest. It’s been a while since he’s been home; the past week was dedicated to doing business outside of the city. But it feels like it’s been even longer than that since he’s gotten to kiss you.

Dazai had called you every day when he was away — of course he did. His every thought revolves around you. It’s just that a few phone calls are nothing compared to being close enough to touch you.

“All set then, boss?” Chuuya asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He looks every bit as tired as Dazai feels. None of them had gotten much sleep on the mission away, and the weariness is finally settling down on them.

Dazai nods and waves his hands, dismissing Chuuya. “Get some rest. But don’t think that you can miss out on the meeting tomorrow just because we got back late,” he hums, and though Chuuya’s face twists up in annoyance, a fraction of a grin lingers on Dazai’s own. “I expect you there bright and early.” 

“Asshole,” Chuuya mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes. And, in all honesty, Dazai is too tired to even quip back. 

He watches as Chuuya and the rest of his team disperse. Some of them head to the elevator, choosing to remain under the safety of the Mafia’s ownership. Some leave the building, heading to their private homes, outside of the city.

Dazai doesn’t really care where they choose to reside, as long as they remain loyalty to him and the Mafia. So far, he hasn’t had any issues.

With a quick scan around the room, he notices that there are still eyes on him. Dazai refrains from yawning, even as the sleepy feeling creeps up on him, an almost uncontrollable strain of the muscles. It’s a simple bodily reaction, but it feels too much like an emotion, a weakness that he could reveal. How tiring it is, to be the boss, with every eye scutinizing him, searching for a mistake. 

He’s a lot more relaxed around the members he’d been a child with; they disliked the previous bosses more than they dislike him, but some still miss when Mori was alive. Some, he worries, know they’ll never be able to land a finger on Dazai — you are the much easier target. 

It’s a fear that has never left him alone, not since the day he fell in love with you. 

When his eyes slide to the corner of the room, he notices that Higuchi and Gin are still downstairs, conversing in whispers in front of a corner table. 

His eyebrows wrinkle together. They’re supposed to be with you, still watching out in case anyone decides to make a move before you’re back in his arms. 

Dazai heads toward them, straightening his lips into a scowl. He knows that neither of them particularly like him; their feelings are nothing short of neutral. But they are fiercely loyal to you.

As much as he’d like to snap at someone in his weathered state, he knows neither of them would ever do anything to put you in danger. He also knows that if you’d begged them to be left alone, they would’ve complied. 

“Higuchi,” Dazai says, his voice flattened, serious, as he tries to hide both his exhaustion and his confusion. “Is something wrong?”

The blonde straightens, her expression changing quickly from an easy smile to something anxiously stoic. Her eyes shift from him to Gin, and though she always puts on a very brave face, Dazai knows how much he intimidates her — just as Mori did before him. 

“Sorry, sir,” Higuchi says, and she steps to the side, a space between her and the other woman revealing you asleep on the table. “We thought you’d be back earlier. She wanted to stay down here and surprise you, but it got late, and…” Higuchi trails off, noticing that Dazai is already distracted, his expression softening. 

It is, perhaps, the reason that so many in the Port Mafia choose to win you over. There is very little that Dazai forgives, very little that he lets slide. You, though, have a heart that is much softer, a gentleness that he has never once in his life possessed. The bleeding organ caged within his chest is made of blooming flowers when it comes to you, ones with petals he’d let you pluck off without a single protest. 

“Oh,” Dazai says, the syllable nothing more than a puff of air, parting his cold lips. His eyes soften, body relaxing, every ounce of tension draining from his shoulders. He feels lighter, those sickening thoughts of blood and misery evaporating from his mind like a cartoonish puff of smoke. “I see.”

One of your arms is stretched out across the table, the other tucked under your head, creating a right angle from your wrist to your elbow. There is a dark shade of lipstick on your mouth, that has now smeared to your cheeks. Only one of your eyes is visible, the other pressed into your bicep. 

You’re a mess, but you’re so human; angelically beautiful, but not without the faults of a mortal. He loves you so dearly that his chest squeezes, and though Gin and Higuchi are watching, he knows—and they know—that he’s never been good at hiding his feelings for you. 

“Thank you,” Dazai says, tapping Higuchi on the shoulder. She seems to flinch at the sudden contact, but relaxes, and nods. “For staying with her.”

Higuchi is surprised by the acknowledgement, but she just bows her head, laughs, almost awkwardly, and backs away from him. “I consider her a friend. I don’t need to be thanked.”

“It’s polite to thank people for the work they’ve done for you,” Dazai says, and though he’s, perhaps, being uncharacteristically nice, you’ve softened him like butter, making him sickeningly saccharine. “Is it not?”

Higuchi opens her mouth, then draws her eyebrows together before shutting it. Better to let it go than question Dazai’s newfound benevolence — something he will spare only so often.

But she surprises Dazai with a small grin, her bangs falling into her eyes as she tilts her head just to the side. “Your darling wife has trained you well,” Higuchi says, much braver than she’d been months ago, braver still, than she’d been under Mori’s regime. 

Dazai thinks he’s grown too soft in his years with you. Though, one scan of your darling, sleeping figure erases any regret he could ever feel. 

He’s surprised by Higuchi’s reaction, but he doesn’t let it show, a smile sliding smoothly on his face before a sharp laugh escapes from him. “I’ve just grown to trust you more, Higuchi. I know that you would never betray her.” 

Higuchi smiles; there’s a fresh understanding between them that wasn’t there before. 

Dazai loves you, he loves you dearly, but he is lucky that so many others do too. How many people has he won over in the Mafia, just by being associated with you? How many have sworn their loyalty to him, only because they’re forever loyal to you? 

He supposes it doesn’t matter. You’ve got a pretty ring on your finger to prove that you’re as much his as you are the Port Mafia’s, and he doesn’t intend on ever letting you go.

Gin and Higuchi bid him a good night, and his exhaustion finally starts to overcome him, the stickiness in the back of his throat giving way to pain, his eyelids thin and scratchy. 

Dazai runs his hands over your head softly, stirring you back awake. It must be painful, the position you’re in, and he can only imagine how stiff you are. When he touches your cheek, you make a soft little sound under your breath; Dazai nearly melts.

“Sweetheart,” he hums, dragging his fingertips across your arms. “Let’s go.” 

It takes a few seconds longer before you jolt a bit, eyes fluttering open softly. You’d been in a surprisingly deep sleep, despite the lights on in the room, the rustling sound that follows the people walking around.

“Osamu?” 

Dazai hums an affirmation, and then he kisses you, just the corner of your mouth, the only part of it that he can reach. “You fell asleep,” he says, just above a whisper, kneeling slightly as you make your way to a seated position. “Time to go upstairs.”  

But you’re still half-asleep, and you fall forward, into his arms, throwing them around his neck. You smell something of fresh soap and roses, overwhelmingly sweet. Dazai almost can’t believe he’d been able to leave you for so long.  

“You’re back!” you mutter, and though it’s full of excitement, its also said through a yawn.

Dazai smiles, and breathes you in. “I am.”

“I missed you,” you kiss his shoulder, the juncture between it and his neck. “Sorry I wasn’t awake when you got here.” 

He runs his fingers up your spine and laughs, shaking his head. “It’s the middle of the night, my love. I would’ve preferred you were asleep, anyway.” A pout forms against his neck; he quickly remedies his words, and kisses the top of your head. “But I’m happy to see you. I was certainly surprised.” 

You laugh, breathless. “Not much of a surprise with me passed out on the table.” 

Dazai starts to pull away, but notices the bouquet of bright red roses on the table. It’s large — dozens and dozens of flowers stuck into the paper. They’re your favorites, ones that he always gets you, the stamp on the packaging from the same florist he shops from. His eyebrows wrinkle together. 

“Who are the flowers from?” he says, and though he tries to keep his tone unassuming, he knows how it sounds… Irritated, and perhaps a little too much like a man willing to skin anyone alive. 

You pull your head away from his shoulder and glance behind you, to the bouquet that is laid carefully against the table. “Oh,” you say, your eyes darting back down to your hands, in a way that is almost bashful. “They’re from me, actually. For you.” 

Carefully, you pick them up and hand them to him, smiling sideways and awkwardly.  

Dazai’s eyes widen. He glances at the flowers being presented to him, stares at the golden and diamond ring upon your finger, the vulnerability in your irises as you reach out the bouquet. His doubt is only obvious for a second, but it is enough to have you questioning your surprise. 

You frown, withdraw, and begin to set the bouquet down. “Do you not like them? I know they’re more of something I would like, but I just thought… Well, I love when you buy me flowers, Osamu. And you just have so many things, I thought this would be more—”

Dazai smiles. He is sick with affection, devastatingly in love with you and everything that you have to offer. You could have given him nothing, and he still would have stared at you with stars in his eyes, because you are the universe that he revolves around. You could’ve given him the world, and it wouldn’t have mattered, because he wants you and you alone, and no gift can compare to the way that you love him. 

He kisses you, catches you in the middle of a sentence, steals the air right from your lungs. The taste of you is even sweeter after so much time apart, and he curls his fingers into your scalp, traces your cheeks with his thumb. “I love you,” he says against your mouth, whispers the words, even though everyone around them sees his feelings on a flickering sign about his head. “You’re so sweet to me, even though I probably don’t deserve it.” 

You’re taken aback, and then you shake your head, rolling your eyes. You must get tired of how often he says it, how often he questions why you love a man like him. But it’s true. You are everything that’s right with the world, and Dazai is the opposite. Fate must’ve been on his side to match him with a soulmate that is everything he truly needs. 

“You spoil me too much,” you say in return, yawning again in the middle of the sentence, your hand covering your mouth daintily. “I never get the chance to do the same.” 

Dazai thinks your love spoils him enough, but he won’t bother you with anymore of those thoughts. Your eyes are drooping closed once more, and if he doesn’t get you upstairs soon, you might just sleep on the table for the rest of the morning. 

He takes the bouquet in one hand, and drags you to your feet with the other. You sway a bit, then nestle into his side, curling your arms around his waist tightly. “I’m sleepy, Osamu.” 

“Me too, sweetheart.” The two of you walk to the elevator in silence, and he realizes that he never properly expressed his gratitude. “Thank you for the flowers, angel.” 

You don’t respond, but squeeze him a little tighter. He smiles, and the elevator chimes. 

⤷ thank you sm for reading! reblogs appreciated!

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

born to die - m. murdock

a/n: IM NOT DEAD i am very busy with finals but this has been rattling around the old noggin for a while now. i took a lot of inspiration from @ellephlox 's fic strawberry rhubarb which i 100% reccomend bc its better than most fics including this one! hope you enjoy! as always reblogs and comments are always appreciated! <3 warnings: oh boy. torture (cutting, burning) some sexually suggestive talk (nothing happens but it's not consensual) readers dad abused her, nightmares, lots of major character death (but not permeant) ANGST!!! but with a happy ending! kidnapping, medical stuff, cursing, and if i missed anything, let me know! word count: 4.8k summary: as matt murdock's wife, your life is rather full of surprises. getting kidnapped by wilson fisk takes the cake as the worst one. pairing: matt murdock x wife!reader now playing: born to die - lana del rey "choose your last words, this is the last time/'cause you and i, we were born to die"

You would think after patching him up too many times to count, five years without him, and countless sleepless nights worrying if he was alive, you would think you’d be used to Matt Murdock and his world of surprises.

And then you get kidnapped, so maybe you’re not so immune to surprises.

It’s really such a shame too, because you’re storming out of the apartment, too angry to take notice of your surroundings.

Silly, foolish, ditzy you.

Because it isn’t like Matt hasn’t told you time and time again that you need to be careful, especially when you go out alone at night. But he’s so angry that he doesn’t even think about the potential dangers of Hell’s Kitchen at three a.m. when Daredevil has been tucked away for the night and Matt Murdock comes back out to play.

He’s been taking more and more patrols because with Fisk being out of prison he can’t help but be constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.

How silly he was to think that maybe he could have it all—A successful law firm, good friends and a loving wife.

Silly, foolish, ditzy Matt.

But after a week of nonstop patrols, you’re both fed up and tired, and above all, you’re yearning for each other. Neither of you allow yourselves to be totally happy all the time. It would just make everything too easy.

So, after yelling at each other over, what? Patrols? Cases? Burnt dinners? You’re freezing on the streets, and you get about five blocks before you stop and rub your eyes.

This is dumb, you rationalize. Of course, you’re both stressed out and tired, but you’ve gotten through rougher times before, and you both made an oath. To each other, in front of his God, to love each other no matter what.

You realize you left your wedding ring on the table, the ghost of the metal around your finger haunting you. You were dumb for leaving and Matt was dumb for telling you to go. You’re made for each other.

You turn around to go back to your shared apartment, and then, someone grabs you from behind. Your first instinct is to yell for your husband, but you don’t get the chance to before you’re knocked out, by what you can only guess to be a gun or maybe a large fist.

• • •

You wake up in this dingy room, the lighting not suitable for much of anything except to make you afraid. The set up is almost comical and in a fucked up away, stereotypical for a kidnapping. You’re tied up to a chair, and the lights shine only bright enough so you can see shadows and rats scurrying along.

The air is this weird musk of salt and earth, and you realize you’re near the docks, and that’s about all you know about your current location.

Your head is still pounding from whatever it was you were hit with, but you can see another chair a few feet from you and a wooden table with various weapons laying on it. You don’t feel good about this one. Also on the table is an old school record player. You have no idea what the intention is with it.

You try to keep your cool, knowing that wherever you wander, your husband will not be very far off. That whatever is happening, he will be coming to find you no matter how upset he is for whatever it was you were fighting about earlier.

And then, out of the shadows, there he is. 

But he’s too big to be Matt, and he has a man standing next to him.

Frank, maybe?

And then you realize who this man is.

He’s Wilson Fisk, the kingpin who has done nothing but torture and kill people, shoving it in Matt’s face for years. Matt only met you after Fisk was put back in prison, and you know at some point in the five-year blip without Matt, he had escaped prison.

So, this is the first time you’ve had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Fisk. When he meets your eye, you do nothing but stare.

“Good evening, Mrs. Murdock. It’s a shame we must meet under these circumstances.” He tells you, taking a seat in front of you. His henchman stands behind the chair.

“It’s regretful to say the least.” You tell him, not intending to make any more of an enemy out of him than Matt already has, not right now.

“I wanted to congratulate you on your wedding. I remember my own, it was a rather special day.”

You know that was the day Matt took him down. The night that he, Karen and Foggy took him down.

“I’ve heard stories. It seemed like a lovely day.”

“You’re a much more gracious guest than your counterpart.”

“Well, I’m sure people say similar things about you and yours.”

He seems to consider this for a moment before nodding.

“You’re probably right about that, Mrs. Murdock. I wanted to tell you I’m terribly sorry these are the circumstances in which we are finally introduced. But it seems Mr. Murdock has been interested in finding out more about my endeavors. And you see, we simply cannot have that. I made a promise not to hurt Miss Page or Mr. Nelson but it seems you were not included in that deal.” Of course not, it had been a long time before you showed up. “So, you’re how we’re going to send Mr. Murdock a message.”

Huh.

So, this is how you die.

Well, you might as well go out with a bang.

“You see, Mrs. Murdock, When I was a boy—”

“I’m going to stop you, Mr. Fisk, because your sob story is rather dull. I know who you are. You were beaten by your father, just like I was. The difference is that I don’t use that as an excuse to murder my way to the top of the food chain. And you can torture me, assault me, whatever you feel you need to do. But if you think for a second that I’ll forget who’s coming to stop you, you are sorely mistaken. And if you think he’ll ever stop trying to find me, you do not know my husband very well.”

Fisk stares at you for a while, his gaze hardening into a glare.

“You’re right. You do know who I am. Because we’re rather similar.” He stands up and nods to the man nearby. “If Murdock can hear her far from here, make sure he hears her screaming.”

Then Wilson Fisk walks away, and you are left with the sickening gaze of a man who has no good intentions.

 The man goes to the record player and starts to play a song you recognize quickly as “Fly Me To The Moon” by Frank Sinatra. As he does this, he speaks,

“Hello, Mrs. Murdock. I’m John.” You stay quiet, and he just enjoys the song.

He picks up a knife from the table and goes to you, this grin on his face that makes you sick.

But you remember a trick from not only your childhood, but also from Frank who told you the key to remaining strong under torture—Distraction.

You stare straight ahead, trying not to mind as the man runs the knife over your skin. You think about Matt. You imagine him in his wedding suit, the smile he had on as you approached him down that aisle. You think about when he asked you to marry him, and—

A sharp pain slashes down your arm, cutting open the shirt you’re wearing. You yell in pain, before moving in to try and take deep breaths.

You can do this. Matt will be here soon.

You continue to breathe through the anxiety and the pain, trying not to think too hard about when John hums along to Sinatra’s voice, guiding his knife around your skin. Another cut finds itself on your shoulder.

This goes on for a while, with the classic song looping over and over again. John never seems to tire of it, no matter how badly you will for it to end. As the song ends in one particularly good loop, John hits your face hard, and your nose starts bleeding.

You try to think of Matt’s voice. You don’t listen to John’s torments, knowing it will only egg him on further. You just want him to burn at that point.

By the end of… Countless Frank Sinatra serenades, you have cuts littered around your body, dry blood on your face from your nose and tears running down your face. When he’s eventually done, two men cut you out from the chair and drag you along to a smaller, darker room. You are left in there with a small meal, and you just huddle against a corner, nearest a barred window out of your reach.

And then, you begin to speak for the first time since you saw Fisk.

“Matt,” You whisper, “I’m by the docks.” You tell him, not sure if he can even hear you. “Please, I’m sorry for everything, please just come find me..” You mumble, too tired and aching to try and do more.

• • •

The next day, or what you presume to be the next day since you have no way to tell how much time has passed, you’re woken up by a loud banging on the door of your.. cell..?

The same two men enter and drag you back to the room, where John waits for you.

“How are you feeling today, Mrs. Murdock?” He asks.

You glare.

“Fuck you.”

He laughs and shakes his head.

“What happened to the polite young woman Mr. Fisk and I met yesterday?”

You’re filled with unprecedented anger.

“I said, Fuck you!”

He wastes no time, grabbing a lighter off the table and starting the record player again. Once more, Frank Sinatra’s voice fills the room, and you’re pretty sure once you’re done with John, and then Fisk, you’ll bring Sinatra back from the dead just to kill him again.

You’ve never really been a violent person, but you suspect that it lives in the worst parts of you, just as it did with your own father. You’re much better at keeping it all at bay. Besides, it does you no good to be violent while you have Matt. He’s plenty angry for the both of you.

Oh, Matt..

This is how time passes for you. While John tortures you, burning you or carving into your skin, you think about how great it will be to choke the life out of the singer… And you think about Matt. When you’re in your dark little room, you talk to him. Even if he can’t hear you, you must hope that he’s looking for you.

• • •

Days pass. How long have you been here?

One night, you have the following dream:

It starts out as a memory. A memory of you and Matt. You’re lying in bed with him, and the sunlight is hitting his face just right. You love this memory, it’s one you recall often. He just has this angelic look to him.

Yeah, most people who encounter him, especially at night, meet the devil. But occasionally, you get glimpses of the angel you know he is. He’s sleeping, and you think in this state, he is the most relaxed you’ll ever see him.

Then, before your eyes, the dream shifts and you’re in this black void, on the ground.

Foggy, Karen, Frank, and Matt stand around you. You run to Matt but hit a clear shield keeping him from you. You bang on the glass, well, maybe it’s glass, you don’t know. You try to scream, but your voice never reaches your ears. You begin to look around, looking for a way out.

An eerie version of ‘Fly Me To The Moon’ plays as you glance over to Foggy and watch in horror as his body begins to turn to ash, just like Matt and Karen did when they were blipped. You scream, banging against the shield, but your screams are silent.

You glance back and see the same thing happening to Frank. No, no, no! It was never supposed to happen this way! Frank and Foggy, they lived! They got their time! They don’t die like this!

And then Karen starts too. You start sobbing, not wanting her to go. You had missed her so much, and you only just got her back. But soon enough, she’s gone too, and you’re left in front of your husband.

His hand comes up to rest on the forcefield and he frowns softly.

He says your name gently, and then adds, “You know it couldn’t last forever, right?”

And then just as quickly as before, he is gone again. You remain there in that void, sobbing and screaming though no noise reaches you. This can’t be it! You just got him back, you needed him! You couldn’t take being alone for another five years… Or more…

The dream transforms and you’re in this grand ballroom. People are dancing elegantly and you’re in this.. obnoxious ball gown. But across the room, you can see Matt. He’s dressed in an all-black suit, with a red masquerade mask covering his face. The mask has little red devil horns on it.

Now, the orchestra plays their rendition of Sinatra’s romantic classic. And you step towards Matt, attempting to make your way towards him, only to be met with a masked man, beginning to twirl you around.

You jump from man to man, until eventually, you’re dancing with a man in an all-white suit, a man you quickly recognize as Fisk. No matter how hard you try to escape his grasp, he holds on tighter. The two of you stop dancing now, amid the crowd of moving bodies.

Fisk grabs your chin and tilts it in Matt’s direction, just in time for you to see him bowing to another woman, kissing the back of her hand. Your eyes widen and you think, this can’t be real.

“When I kill you,” Fisk says, “He’ll move on. You’re easily replaceable, Mrs. Murdock.”

And then, in an instant, the woman with Matt pulls out a dagger and plunges it deeply into his abdomen. It’s then that the other dancers, besides you, Fisk, Matt, and this mystery woman, disappear. Matt turns to you and falls to his knees, clutching his stomach.

He tries to crawl to you, blood seeping onto his hands and the beautiful ballroom floor. He yells your name, and the woman stabs him again from behind, and you watch as your husband dies. You hear him screaming, hear him yelling your name. But Wilson Fisk keeps you in place. You can do nothing but watch as Matt Murdock meets his end again, unable to save him. You start to scream, thrashing against Fisk, ready to claw your way to Matt.

You wake up screaming, the nightmare haunting you. A guard bangs on your door, yelling at you to keep it down.

It was just a nightmare, you tell yourself. Maybe Matt heard your screams.

Maybe he’s already dead.

You force yourself not to listen to the voice in your head that says that.

• • •

One day, Fisk visits again, only this time, He’s covered in blood. That damn song is still playing.

You just stare. They have long since stopped tying you up, recognizing that you no longer have the energy to try and fight back.  He has this sick grin on his face.

“Good evening, Mrs. Murdock.” You say nothing. “Have you been enjoying your stay with us?”

You glare.

“I hope Matt kills you when he gets here, because it will be a lot less painful for you if he does it instead of me.”

Mr. Fisk just laughs at this and tosses something at your feet. You get down off the chair to see what it is.

Your face goes pale with realization. You pick it up and slip it on your thumb, with it being too big for your other fingers. Matt’s wedding ring. You know it’s his, it has your name engraved in braille on the inside. How did he get this?

As if reading your mind, Fisk speaks again. “I took it off his body after I killed him.”

Your head shoots up to him. What did he say?

“No.” You deny. “Fuck off, I don’t—I don’t believe you.”

“Your husband is dead, Mrs. Murdock. I killed him with my bare hands because he was stupid enough to come after you. Your friends will mourn you and Matt Murdock for a while, and the city will come to the realization that Daredevil did nothing but harm. I win, Mrs. Murdock.”

You feel tears start to fill your eyes, and you realize, no. He hasn’t won because you’re still alive.

Maybe not for long, but you are.

You gather the rest of your energy and leap up, lunging at the large man covered in the man you love’s blood. And there’s a part of you that gets it. Okay, universe, you win. Most people don’t get a second chance like the two of you did. And now he’s dead, and soon you will be too. You can at least try to kill Fisk.

But you barely get a scratch in, yelling and screaming obscenities at him, as John grabs your arms from behind pulling you away. Fisk laughs and shakes his head again.

“It’s been lovely knowing you, Mrs. Murdock. I’m sorry you’ll have to die, you had so much potential. John, when you’re done doing whatever you’d like to her, kill her.” You hear him say it, but you’re blinded by rage, by grief.

John laughs behind you and forces you back into the chair, tying you back up once more. He looks at you, enraged and grief stricken, and just shakes his head.

“You and I are going to have a lot of fun.”

He leaves for a few minutes, and you realize this is the first time you’ve been left alone in this room. You tug at the knots and realize that while John is a gifted torturer, he’s not much of a knot tier.

So you manage to wiggle out of the rope, approaching the table in front of you. You don’t have much time. Okay, maybe you won’t be able to kill Fisk, but John will do. You take a golf club off the table in front of you and turn to the record player.

You begin to smash the thing in, angrily cursing at it as Frank Sinatra’s voice fades off into nothing. When the song ends, the lights turn off. And then, red flood lights turn on in their place.

A back up generator. Lovely. You think that your smashing of the record player couldn’t possibly make the whole building’s power go off, but you don’t really care at that moment.

You’re tired. You won’t make it far, but you need to try. You grasp the club and open the door, being greeted with a man you don’t recognize. You smack him in the face with the club hard enough for him to fall to the ground.

The red lighting adds an eerie tone to the hallways as you creep around, concussing various henchmen that Fisk has working for him. You don’t mean to kill these ones, only John.

But you’re running out of stamina, peeking around corners. And that’s when you see him. John is just standing there like he knows you’re there.

“Come out to play, Mrs. Murdock?” He calls, approaching the corner where you are waiting on the other side.

You focus on his footsteps, taking a swing around the corner when you know he’s close enough. You hear a sharp crack! As he falls, and you can’t see the blood in this lighting. Good. You begin to hit his head in, sobs mixing with yelling. You hate him. You want him to die before you’re killed.

But you don’t get the pleasure, because a pair of arms are pulling you off him, and you begin yelling.

“No!” You yelp. “No, Fuck you! Let go of me! Stop!” You think it’s another one of his goons, and you just want to be able to finish the job before you die. The figure forces you to drop the club. “Please, stop, don’t hurt me—”

But he’s saying your name and turning you around to see him. You know that voice.

“Sweetheart, hey, it’s just me—” He pants, his hands going to your cheeks. “It’s me, It’s just me. I’ve got you.”

And you can’t believe your eyes.

“Matt..?” You whimper, not able to believe it. “No, you’re dead, this has to be—”

And then, Matt does something he wouldn’t do for anyone who wasn’t his wife. He pulls off his helmet so you can see his face. Oh.

“I’m right here. I’ve got you.” He says softly, his thumb gently rubbing against your skin.

That’s when you start to sob, falling against him, no energy left to carry yourself. His arms wrap around you, and you say it again.

“He told me you were dead..”

“I know.. I’m sorry, I don’t know how he got my ring but we’ve gotta get you out of here.” He tells you.

You’re so tired. You’re slumping against him as you try to walk, the warmth radiating off his body just drawing you to sleep.

The last thing you hear before you fall asleep is Matt’s voice, begging you to stay awake.

• • •

You see flashes. Your parents, your dad. Nightmares of Fisk killing Karen, Foggy, Frank, and worst of all, Matt. You see John’s sickening grin on the body of spiders, and you’re chased by his cruel laughter.

But the dreams are filmier compared to what’s happening around you. You know Claire shows up at some point, and you’re thankful to her. Karen sits next to you sometimes, petting your hair, or sometimes it’s Foggy, talking your ear off.

You have fever dreams of Frank in full military gear, tormenting you.

“Not so tough now, huh, girl?” He teases. “You really thought you’d kill the big bad wolf? Solve all your boyfriend’s problems?”  

You say to him, “Husband, He’s my husband.”

• • •

Even in your dreams, where you were slashed and burned aches, and you long for the pain to end.

You wake up only once throughout these dreams, and it’s when Karen is playing music to try and calm you from your insistent nightmares.

Only one song snaps you out of it, and you hear it clear as day.

‘Fly me to the moon,” Sinatra sings, “Let me play among the stars,’

He only gets through a few more lines before you’re sitting up on the couch, screaming.

“No! Stop, please!” You cry, and in an instant, Matt’s arms are around you. “Matt, please, don’t let him hurt me, please! Please don’t die, don’t let him keep hurting me!” You beg, in a hazed, frenzied state.

“I’ve got you, No one’s going to hurt you..”

Karen turns off the music somewhere deep in the apartment.

“No..” You begin to grow tired in his arms again. “Matty, please.. You can’t die, please..” You whimper out, continuing to mumble out pleads as you fall back into your weird dream state.

• • •

You really wake up two days later. Matt’s hand is clasped over yours, and he’s just.. Sitting on the floor next to the couch, praying into your clasped hands.

Praying for what, you don’t know.

Your body aches. But something in you tells you you’re safe.

“Matt…?” You whisper gently, and his head shoots up.

“Hey..” He says softly, one hand leaving yours, coming up to brush your hair out of your face. “There she is..”

“You’re alive..”

He seems a little concerned you still had some doubts about this.

“I am. Fisk lied to you.. He never even touched me.” You nod.

“Did I kill him? The man you found me..”

“No. He’s just in a coma, I checked. He’ll be brought to justice.”

“I only wanted him dead when I thought you were too..” Because really, you would have nothing if Matt wasn’t there. Nothing to live for. When he was blipped away, you had the hardest time readjusting to life. Now you know if he died again, you’d probably go off the rails.

No love story is saved more than once. You used up all your luck. Now it will be doomed if he’s ever killed again.

“I know.” He said gently.

“How long have I been out? How long was I in there?”

“A week, and then you were out for four days here. They got you good, baby..” He says gently. “I’m sorry I didn’t find you earlier.”

You frown softly.

“You did find me though. That’s all that really matters anymore.” You know you’ll be nursing scars for a long time. Physical or not.

“Still..” He said gently, and he brings your hand up to kiss it gently. “And I’m sorry I told you to leave that night. I was just upset, but this past week and half.. I feel like I’ve been going crazy without you. No matter how mad at you I am, I never want to spend another night without holding you. Knowing that you could have been…” His voice breaks, and he just sighs, taking a moment to lean his head on your hand. “I love you, so much.” He kisses your palm again.

How are you so tired again? All you’ve done is talk to him, but it feels like you just ran a marathon.

“I love you. It’s why I married you. Because you and I, we were always meant to be with each other. No matter what.”

He smiles weakly and reaches over to the coffee table to grab something. He slips it on your finger and for the first time in over a week, your wedding ring is back where it belongs. You see Matt is wearing his. Your Matt. Your husband. The only one you were ever meant to be with.

“Did Claire patch me up? I remember her being here..” He nods softly.

“Yeah, we.. we really owe her one. She was a huge help..”

“Karen and Foggy were here… And Frank?”

“No, no, Frank’s still in Illinois, I think?” You nod softly. “You were mumbling to him, though. I heard you… you were telling him you had a husband.”

You would laugh if it didn’t hurt.

“He called you my boyfriend. I had to correct him.” You grin.

“That’s my girl.” He hums. Matt gently lifts you so you can sit up and drink some water. Then, he climbs onto the couch and brings you close. His arms wrap around your freshly wounded skin and you have a rare moment of gratefulness for his blindness.

You sit in silence for a while.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks gently.

You think about it all. The torture, the cuts, burns, the small room. Fisk’s laughter, John’s grin. But something sticks out to you.

“Fisk said I was just like him.”

“What?”

“We.. We grew up similar, Matt, I mean.. What if he’s right? What if the only thing separating him and I is one bad move?”

Your husband frowns and shakes his head.

“Sweetheart, you are the.. the most amazing person I’ve ever met. You’re the complete antithesis of Wilson Fisk. Yeah, you grew up like him, but you’re living proof that you don’t have to go down the path he did just because of his background. You and I both know that there will never be a world where you end up like him. Especially not with me.”

You find comfort with his words. Not only did you make every choice not to be like Fisk, but you must’ve also made all the right decisions if in the end, you ended up with Matt. Oh, it won’t be easy, you know that for sure. You’ll never be able to listen to Frank Sinatra, and your upcoming nights are filled with nightmares and hauntings.

But one day you’ll be okay. One day You’ll be able to sit in the silence without thinking about it. One day you’ll get the image of dead Matt out of your head. You’ve spent many nights wondering about who will go first, you or him.

And then you realize the best-case scenario is that the two of you die at the same time, never living another moment without each other.

How would there ever be a world where you and your husband weren’t with each other, even just for a moment?

[qlossytbh]

𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 You and Spencer start learning what it’s like to live together as the chase for the killer continues.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 mentions of overthinking (lots of it), mention of absent parents, mentions of scream 6 (no spoilers tho), unpopular scream 6 opinions, too much fluff tbh, nightmares, mentions of sleep paralysis

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 3.2k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 i’m literally so sorry for this being so behind schedule, im so stumped with college and shit but here it is!

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You remember going home that night and thinking a lot— maybe too much, if you were being frank.

A lot was still on your mind. Between the case, and the whole murderer that was killing old acquaintance's—you also had a husband now apparently.

Two days had passed and the case was still at works. Spencer lived in an apartment complex, which wasn't favorable for the goal of the mission. You however, lived in a nice suburban house your parents left you as a 'sorry for being absent' gift. Very close to where you used to go to school, which was crucial. It was perfectly comfortable— a little too big for you to be living there by yourself, which left space for you to feel a little lonely many times— but spacious nonetheless.

So with that, and lots of discussion, it was decided that Spencer would accommodate himself at your house, to make the whole marriage part, well— believable.

Cameras had been installed all across the outside of your house, ensuring there'd be vigilance throughout the days to come. Hotch made it incredibly clear, that you and Spencer's safety was top priority, so taking precaution wasn't something that the team was going to take lightly. Hotch had previously sat you and Spencer down, just to make sure you knew what you were getting into, the basic guidelines you'd have to follow and so on.

You and Spencer didn't speak much as the plan progressed during the following days and you didn't know why. You knew that you had been busy with your own things and he had been busy with his own, but it still filled you with dread. You were dwelling wether or wether not he was truly comfortable with the whole 'fake married couple' and not having time to sit down and actually talk to him about this whole thing was messing with your head.

'Just keep an eye out for anything suspicious and try to act like a married couple—'

'As if that was so hard for them.'

That's what Hotch had told you and what Morgan decided to pipe in, causing you to nearly toss the book you had with you at him. Was it normal that you had been dwelling on what Morgan had said relentlessly since then?

You didn't fully understand why the whole concept filled you with an unexplainable unsteadiness. It felt similar to anxiety but it wasn't as dreadful. It felt like something was lingering across the tip of your tongue, begin to be released, but your brain couldn't actually process any of it.

Spencer had been taking this whole situation just as lightly as you were— which wasn't at all light. His mind running impossibly faster than usual, and thoughts forcing themselves in and out of his head. A few of his things had already been moved into your house, such as spare clothing among other stuff.

Tonight, however, you're mind was silent for the first time in these past two days. You sat on your couch, digging your back into the softness of its pillows, dressed with a fluffy pair of pajama pants and a white t-shirt that fell over your body comfortably. You had a box of ramen in your hands, and Spencer sat just a little further from you on the opposite side of the couch, also in his pajamas.

The two of you had been taken completely off guard, seeing the other in something so 'casual'. Sure, you had been best friends for a while, but somehow you had never seen each other in anything other than your work attire. Seeing him in nothing but a plain grey T-shirt and plaid pants felt almost intimate.

He held his box of ramen in one hand and a fork in the other, reminding you of his inability to ever learn how to use chopsticks, despite your attempts at teaching him.

You tugged closer at the blanket you were wrapped in and said with a mouth full of noodles."Easily the best scream movie since the original."

"In every way is it better than all the sequels. The opening scene is brilliant and the way they did it was so scary and intense—" You beamed, enthusiasm radiating off your every word as the end credits to Scream 6 began rolling.

One of you and Spencers preferred past-times was watching any movie, franchise or series you could get your hands on and either rip the movie to shreds or praise it as if it were a god given gift. You just finished watching the last Scream movie and funny enough, you both were disagreeing on the cinematographic decisions.

Spencer rolled his eyes, jabbing his fork into the nearly empty box of noodles. "Please, even after the last time I saw this I still think the this is one of the slowest pacing films known to man."

"You could actually tell this was the longest movies in the franchise," He shrugged. Your jaw slacked as an annoyed groan left your lips.

"Spencer, it is not slow-paced— are you kidding me?" He deadpanned at you, clearly disagreeing with your opinion. "Everything was timed perfectly! I mean, the kills were brutal but even so, they felt realistic and made me believe that those things could actually happen."

"They do actually happen," He said, reminding you of the reality of your job. Your lips pursed in thought, realizing he had a point as you looked over at the TV screen.

"Touché,”

You poked at your box silently. You didn't usually mind silences, much less with Spencer, but right now you were realizing that a somewhat tense silence had dwelled upon you two. You felt your nerves begin to bundle up and you caught yourself opening your mouth to speak.

"So uh—" One more poke at the bottom of the carton box. "I talked to Claire today,"

"Hmm? What'd she say?" Spencer's gaze and entire attention was on you in the matter of seconds and it made you weirdly nervous to speak.

"Well," You reached over, setting the now empty box onto the table. You leaned back into the couch, looking over at him as he copied your movements effortlessly. "She was telling me how she was planning on throwing a ten year reunion, but with everything going on, she cancelled it."

“Claire always took matters of those stupid school events into her own hands, but she didn’t know how tone deaf it was of her to throw it ever with everything that’s going on,”

Your speaking started off as a nervous ramble, attempting to fill the silence, but you soon found yourself easing into the nature of the conversation. Spencer listening attentively, shifting his weight to the side every once in a while.

"I told her that she should go ahead with it anyways. Gave her a hell of a list of pros and somehow she agreed to look into the possibility of organizing it,"

You recalled your conversation with Claire easily. When the option for a high school reunion was up, you remembered the reality of your mission with Spencer, and knew it was the perfect way of getting you and him on whoever was attacking radar. She asked why you were so enthusiastic about wanting to throw together the reunion, given how you weren't present at the one year reunion— or the five year.

"She was kind of apprehensive, which I don't blame her," You laughed at yourself and laid your head on the back of your couch, looking up at the ceiling. "I— uhm, told her it was because I wanted to officially introduce you as my husband and she got all, excited,"

You felt yourself growing nervous as you looked over at Spencer. "Excited?"

There was a teasing glint in his voice as he narrowed his eyes at you. He also laid his head on the back of your couch, still gazing over at you. It made your stomach weirdly twist and suddenly you felt your cheeks hot to the touch. You smiled and narrowed your eyes as well.

"Yes, excited," You looked down at your lap. You were getting to that point where you weren't thinking straight and your lips moved along as if they had a mind of their own. “She said she knew it all long and you know the typical 'called it' which everyone seems to love saying lately,"

“Saying what?” You looked back up at Spencer and silence dwelled upon you two. You shrugged and opened your mouth to speak, but was shocked when nothing came out. Both of your growing smiles began to falter as he tilted his head back just slightly, watching you intently. You knew something was lingering in his head— finding out what was the hard part.

"—It's uhm," You sucked in a deep breath and sat up quickly. "I'm gonna—"

You wordlessly dusted off your pants, tumbling slightly on your feet. You grabbed both now empty ramen boxes and waltzed over to your kitchen.

"Need help?" Spencer shot from over the couch, standing up and making his way over to the kitchen behind you.

"It's fine Spence," You cleared your throat, throwing both boxes into the trash and the fork into the sink. You turned, seeing Spencer now leaning against the fridge with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

Your eyes felt droopy, which meant it probably was late, and the two of you did have work tomorrow. Somehow knowing it was late impulsed your body to let out an involuntary yawn. Spencer smiled at you.

"I left a few extra blankets on the edge of my bed cause I know it gets cold—" You started. Spencer pushed himself off of the fridge and looked at you quizzically.

"What?" He asked. You stopped as you noticed his severely puzzled expression, looking at him and furrowing your brows.

You explained once again, completely lost as to what the problem was. “Blankets..? You know those things you use for—"

"You're expecting me to sleep in your bed?"

You blinked. "I changed the sheets before you got here if it's the whole germ shit your worried about,"

"What? No, it's not—" He said before shaking his head. "We're at your house, I'm supposed to sleep on the couch."

Of course. You hadn't thought about the fact that Spencer was going to be severely against you staying on the couch. In various situations he had put all of his comforts out of the way for you, so of course he wasn't going to let you sleep on the couch.

"Do not fight me on this because I swear," You pointed a warning finger towards him, taking a step near him. "My couch is amazing, if you couldn't already tell. I've got the TV as well, which I do not have in my room,"

He rolled his eyes at the amusement in your voice. But shook his head firmly. "You take the room, I'll take the couch—"

"Spencer!" You groaned, throwing your head back. You reached out and grabbed his wrists with both of your hands, looking up at him firmly. "Please,"

His lips pressed into a tight line, eyes finding yours as he looked down, seeing your lips tightly dressed with a firm pout as you attempted to give him your best puppy eyes.

"If you sleep on the couch that means I set up the whole light projector thingy for nothing," His head tilted.

"What?" He laughed at you, fully with endearment.

"I got you this stupid little galaxy projector thing off of Ebay, so the room wouldn't be pitch black."

Spencer stopped and looked down at you. He could practically heard his heart explode inside his chest, which was the best way of describing whatever it is he felt whenever you did stuff like it this. Stuff that showed that you cared, that you listened and payed attention.

When he suddenly looked away from you, incredibly close to caving, you tugged his wrist closer. "Please?"

He sighed, looking down at you. "Fine,"

It was imposible for Spencer to say no to you. It always has been. Wether it was something as stupid as stopping by a gas station on the way home from work to get your favorite snack or for him to give you some company while you visited the offices printer, he always found himself surrendering to your pleading look.

"I promise it's comfortable," You reassured, noticing how he was still apprehensive of letting you sleep on the couch in your own house. He sighed once again, but this time tugging you slightly by the arm into him. He wrapped his arms around you as your arms mindlessly wrapped around his torso. He buried his face into your neck and let out a gush of air he couldn't tell he was holding as his body relaxed under your touch.

With everything going on, the two of you had forgotten just how peaceful it was to be around one another. You had to remind yourself that the two of you were in this together, as much as you believed it was something you were handling alone.

"We're okay right?" He asked, realeasing you from his grip to look down at you. You pulled away, finding the same worry you had been feeling these past few days flooding his eyes.

"Yeah Spence," You gave him a small smile and a reassuring squeeze. He hugged you once more, trying to hold onto the feeling as you rubbed his back.

"We should probably head to sleep—" You said, pulling away from him as he hesitantly let you go, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah," He nodded looking down at you one last time.

It all happened in the matter of seconds, and having been woken up so suddenly, you didn't fully grasp what was going on.

It started with a scream. The sound caused you to shoot up from your position in on the couch, still groggy with sleep. The second scream that came made your blood run cold as you realized the scream belonged to none other than Spencer.

Anxiety immediately clawed your throat and you truly felt like you couldnt breathe. You threw the blanket off of yourself and shot up from the couch. You held your breath while your body unconsciously dragged you towards your room in a panicked frenzy.

Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay

You still weren't processing anything that was going on when you pushed the door open fully expecting yourself to find the worst.

It took you a second that no one had broken in like you had thought. Spencer was unharmed but slashing back and forward in his sleep.

He's having a nightmare

You rushed over to his side, sitting on the edge of the bed and gripping his shoulder as you tried to get him to wake up.

"Spencer!" You shook his shoulder as he groaned and mumbled inaudibly in his sleep. With one final firm shake at his shoulder, his eyes shot open.

He sat up in a rush, desperately looking over the lightly lit room while his chest heaved up and down madly. His skin felt hot at the touch and his hair was all over the place. You could even see a few pieces that had been matted onto his forehead due to the sweat.

"Hey," You cooed, eyes laced with sleep and worry. His own eyes found yours desperately, breathing still labored. "Can you breath for me?"

He nodded wordlessly. Your hands snaked down to his, gripping his clammy palm in your own. You rubbed your thumb across his knuckles gently as his breathing finally slowed down. He dragged his free hand across his face and let out one final shaky breath.

You didnt ask anything at first. You just sat with him in silence— partially because you knew what it felt like, and also because you wanted him calm before saying anything.

Spencer was used to the nightmares. He got them when there was something that was on his mind, and he usually just slept through them, unable to wake up. It sometimes felt like he was stuck in them, and not being able to wake up from them was hell.

When you caught how he looked down, eyes full of panic and dread, you squeezed his hand. "It was just a nightmare Spence,"

He nodded, trying to believe you. You weren't going to pry, or ask him to tell you about what his nightmare was about. "I- I know,"

"...Do you get those often?" You asked after a moment of silence. He shrugged.

"Not necessarily, only when I'm stressed or worried,"

"Can I help in anyway?" Spencer looked up at you, squeezing your hand reassuringly as he shook his head.

"No—" He didn't want to be yet something else you had to worry about because just with the way you were looking at him he could tell you did— you always did. "No, I'm okay,"

You looked at him, trying to get him to crack under your gaze because you knew he wasn't fine. You didn't need him telling you the details, but you did want him telling you what you could do to help— and right now he wasn't going to because that's how stubborn Spencer was.

"You scared the shit out of me," You said, voice nearly breaking in a yawn as you rubbed your eyes with your free hand.

"Sorry," He said. You looked up at him and then reached over and tapped the screen of his phone that sat on the nightstand, reading the white numbers spell out four in the morning.

"You sure I can't help in anyway?" It felt utterly wrong to you to just leave after seeing how he had been paralyzed in his sleep by whatever severe fear his nightmare caused.

He remained silent. With a huff, you let go of his hand and crawled onto the opposite side of the bed wordlessly. Once you had laid on your back, you reached over, grabbing the grey blanket that sat on the end of your bed and pulled it up towards your body, laying into the pillows that sat behind your back.

Once you were accommodated, you looked over at Spencer, who was looking back at you, confusion painting his features. You shrugged at him.

"Can't a girl sleep in her own bed?" He rolled his eyes and with a small laugh, laid back down. He turned onto his side and glanced at the starry lit ceiling.

The roof now looked similar to that of a galaxy. The dark room was airbrushed in a deep blue and hints of purple, as stars circled and glided across the ceiling in a slow pace. The room resembled a nebula, and it was actually pretty fascinating.

"The lights are pretty," You stated, looking at the roof in awe.

"They are," Spencer agreed. You laid down further into the bed and searched for Spencer's hand. He flattened it out, granting access for yours to intertwine itself in his.

"Is this okay?" You asked.

With a single reassuring squeeze, he answered. "Yeah,"

You closed your eyes, letting sleep begin to consume you again as you laid far from Spencer's body, but still connected by the simple touch of your intertwined hands.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 @yondiii i @r-3dlips @moonchildohh @rubyirene @sp3ncelle @alisyacsa @pleasantwitchgarden @landooscurls @chonkybonky @hiireadstuff @stillhere197 @iluvreading73

[co6kiesvr]

summary: xavier is tired of you avoiding him

genre: angst

days, it’s been days since you’ve last talked to xavier. it’s not that you’re in a fight, or you hate him or something. but you’ve just been so caught up in this case you’re working on, that you couldn’t find the time to talk to him.

the only people you’ve been talking to are the dead. you’ve had this ability since you were a kid, you’ve made connections with them, and they’ve been helping you with this case.

your brain couldn’t focus on anything other than that, you needed to find out who the monster was. you needed to find out why this monster is killing innocent people. you needed to know everything

and here you were in your room, working on the case, pictures of dead bodies, evidence and papers scattered all around the room. your friend avery, a girl who had died at birth, and also a close friend of yours, was sat there as well, helping you collect your thoughts.

a knock on the door was heard, you turned to see none other than xavier entering the room. your roommate wasn’t around, and avery left when she heard the knock, so it was just you and him

“hey” he said, looking around the room as he saw the stuff, “still working on the case, huh?”

“uh, yeah.” you said, “avery helped as well”

“mhm…so um, do you wanna maybe pause this for a second and go on a walk with me?”

“what? of course not!” you said in a rather rude tone

“what?” he said, a little hurt by the tone

“i’m busy” you said as you kept organizing your work

“are you serious right now?” he furrowed his eyebrows, “you—you haven’t talked to me in almost a week…come on y/n are you seriously gonna reject me just because of some case that you have nothing to do with?”

you continued doing your work, not responding

“wow. you really—do you even care?!” he snapped

“about what” you said

“about—about me! about…us, do you even care about that?! you really live in your own world. the cops have this handled and you just wanna include yourself for no reason. i’m trying, i’m really trying to wait for you, and be patient. but you don’t seem to give two fucks if i’m even here or not! i’m not doing this anymore, i’m done.” he said, and you froze

you froze as you heard his footsteps fading, you froze as you realized a hole in your heart was forming, you froze when the case you were working on was not a care in your mind anymore, you froze when you realized…he left you. he left you and you were the reason.

xavier really was patient with you, at first, you would talk to him often, then you started talking to him at the end of the day, then you’d talk to him every other day, and then—you wouldn’t talk to him at all.

it’s funny how you don’t realize how important someone is, until they’re gone.

for the very first time, you felt alone.

like actually alone, you’d usually have avery, or another friend with you, but most of the time, you had xavier, and now he wasn’t coming back.

you felt tears brimming in the corners of your eyes, you had never cried before, let alone over a boy

but he was special.

you got up and ran after him, only he was now probably back in his room.

but nonetheless, you ran to his room, and knocked on his door repeatedly until he opened it

“jesus im coming—y/n?” he said, going quiet

you went inside his room, and once he got a good look at you, he knew

“oh my god are you crying?” he said as he gently grabbed your face, wiping your tears

“i’m sorry” you cried out, and he was quick to hug you, “i’m sorry i was just focused on the case and—“

“hey, hey it’s okay.” he said as he stroked your hair

you looked up at him, and soon your lips collided.

once you let go, you were quick to speak

“you were right. i’m dropping the case, the cops have it handled and i should’ve just—“

“no” he said

“what?”

“i’m not telling you to drop the case, baby. i love that you’re working on it and trying to keep everyone safe. but we work on it, together. i cant have you getting hurt” he said as he gently rubbed your cheek with his thumb

“really?”

“of course” he smiled

you might act tough on the outside, but on the inside, you truly loved him.

[yelenasdiary]

Forbidden || Chapter I - Welcome To Blisswater

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Bishop! Reader.

Summary: Just outside of the small town of Blisswater, lives two young sisters, Kate & Y/n Bishop. It's hard not to know who the Bishops are, Kate is the eldest by a year. She is a beautiful young woman, smart, protective and is known to have a talent in using a bow. Y/n, she is shy but quiet as some would say but nevertheless, she holds her own talents and can often be seen tending to the animals of Bishop Ranch. One evening while Kate is out hunting to make some money, Y/n is surprised with an unwanted guest, Yelena Belova. A bounty Hunter from Drybellow who has taken shelter in the young Bishop's barn after being wounded from a gun fight.

Struggling to keep money following, Y/n has no choice but to take the bounty hunter's offer of $5 a day if she is able to help the woman recover. During Yelena's stay, the two grow closer, a little too close if the wrong pair of eyes were to see them.

| No Warnings, I don’t think? | 3.6K |

Forbidden Masterlist

"I'm leaving Lucky here with you" Kate, my older sister said as she entered the dining room, "I'll be gone for a least two days at the most. Will you be okay to handle things here?" she asked. A few, long months ago, our parents went on a business trip and are yet to return. Kate and I have been left to run the ranch and keep money flowing until they return, although we haven't heard from them, not even a single letter. My worries for them are endless. "Of course, I will be" I smiled before taking a mouthful of the porridge I made for us. 

"Do you need anything from town before I go?" she asked while putting her bowl in the sink for me to wash later, "no, I think we have everything we need. Just be safe, please" I looked to her. "Always, rabbit" she smiled. Kate has always called me rabbit, ever since we were younger. It comes from when my adult teeth were still coming through, they reminded her of a rabbit's front teeth when they would nibble on their food. "I'm just going to go get Arrow saddled up then I'll be on my way" she added before walking out the back door.

I'm used to Kate leaving for a day or two, she goes off hunting for us while I tend to the ranch. We have 3 cows, 5 pigs and 6 sheep! All of which have names of their own, of course. I've been saving some money to buy a couple of chickens so we can have our own fresh eggs. My father said we'd get some but that was before he and mother left on their trip. Today seems like it will be an easy day, feed the animals then off to the general store for my shift. 

"Alright, you know the rules" Kate spoke as she returned from saddling up Arrow, "father's rifle is in the case under your bed and please, don't let any of those wandering men stay too long! You can't trust everybody just because they say they've had a long day" she adds. "Yes, I know! You don't need to remind of that every single time, it was just once. Besides, Mr Lang has some very interesting stories to tell" I replied. I wish Mr Lang would return; his stories were almost unbelievable. 

"I guess I don't need to remind you to get some more coffee and canned peaches after your shift then?" Kate rolled her eyes at me as she tucked a few canned goods into her saddle bag. "You just did" I replied, sarcastically. "Let's go Lucky! We don't want to be late" I patted my right thigh after placing my used bowl in the sink for laters problem. "Hey!" Kate stopped me just as I was leaving the kitchen, "be safe, okay? If you need anything Mr Barnes is only a call away" she reminds me, again! 

We have a bell that Kate brought, it's rather large. I am to ring it if I'm in any trouble and Mr Barnes, the Salon owner, will come over and see what the matter is. Im not exactly sure how he's able to hear the ringing sound from so far away, we've done a couple of test runs and so far I haven't had the need to use it. 

"Yeah yeah, how about you be safe? I can't do everything around here if you go missing too!" I smiled softly at my older sister, she knows I'm joking. If anything were to happen to her, she knows I'd be okay…I guess. 

Lucky follows me around everywhere, especially when Kate goes off on her hunt. He'll come to the general store and wait outside by the door until I've finished my duties. Mr Wilson doesn't mind, he loves Lucky and even asked Aunt May to bake some of her famous cookies that everybody in town loves, she makes a little extra and dog friendly ones for Lucky. Everybody calls her Aunt May, not really sure why though, I think it's because she's such an aunt to everybody. Almost like a grandma that cooks everybody's favorite treats for the tea party.

The walk to town is always peaceful. In the warmer seasons, it can be rather hot but on days like today when the sun is just starting to peek over the mountains from afar, the wind isn't too cold and the birds sing their morning song, it's relaxing and maybe I tend to take smaller steps just to soak up the morning fresh air before I stay inside for most of it. 

"Good morning young Y/n!" A rather tall and very muscular man smiles to me, it's Thor. Nobody actually knows why his name is Thor, considering it's a very unusual name but he's very lovely. "Good morning, Thor! Keeping well I see" I replied with a friendly smile as Lucky and I slowly make our way past the Salon. "Oh, you know me! Can't resist the great liquor that is served here" the most likely drunken man chuckles. It's barely 7am and he is drinking. I guess that's a hobby for most people around here. 

Blisswater isn't a town for much entertainment, you have your basics. The Saloon ran and owned by Mr Barnes, the General store ran and owned by Mr Wilson, the doctors office with the only doctor within miles, Mr Banner. The gunsmith, Mr Barton owns and supplies Kate with discounts on arrows and sometimes ammunition for us. Mr Fury is the towns barber, my father wasn't a fan of him but when he was desperate for a cut, he had no choice but to see him. Then there's Sheriff Rogers, T'Challa the friendly banker, Peter the newspaper boy (by the way, he's love for me isn't exactly a secret!) and Mr Quill is the towns blacksmith. 

So that's all there really is to know about who lives in and around Blisswater, it's a small town. A town where everybody knows everybody, and word travels faster than you can blink! We all look out for each other here and most don't take kindly to newcomers. Sometimes we have outlaw gangs come passing through, they spend the night at the Saloon, get drunk and make a mess of themselves before pushing on by the afternoon. The walk-through town the following morning is usually a sight of Mr Barnes boarding up the windows of the Saloon from their drunken fights. 

The bell rings loudly as I open the door of the general store, and I'm greeted with Mr Wilson's warm and welcoming smile. "Good morning, Mr Wilson!" I smiled. 

"Please, Y/n, call me Sam! I've known you long enough" he chuckles before reaching down behind the counter for the plate of Aunt May's famous cookies. 

"I'm sorry, it's habit! I see Aunt May has come early this morning" I wandered up to the counter taking one delicious treat. "Lucky's biscuits are back here as well; did you bring him this morning?" Mr Wilson, I mean, Sam asked. "Of course! Kate is out today and left him all to me" I took a small bite out of the homemade goodness. "Parents off again?" he questioned, I nodded lightly. I miss them so much. 

"Well, I've got the perfect job to keep your mind distracted. How about you watch the store today?"  

"Alone? Me? Are you sure?" I asked with a mouth full of cookie. 

"Yeah, I have a couple of things that need my urge attention. I wasn't going to open today but I think you're ready for this. What do you say? You can even bring Lucky inside if you want" Sam smiled proudly. I thought about it for a moment while I finished my morning treat, it can't be that hard, right?

"Sure! I can hold the fort as they say" I replied with a smile, wiping the crumbs from my lips with the back of my hand. 

"I'll be back before closing, earlier I can. If you need anything, slip out the back door. I don't need to tell you this, I know" he chuckled, "Bucky will be around if you need anything" he assures me. I guess that's the handy thing about having your store next door to a saloon. "You're starting to sound like Kate!! I'll be fine, I have Lucky! What's the worst that could happen?" I raised a brow. 

"Right" my boss smirked, "well you already know where the stock deliveries are, and you know your main duties. Just don't leave the store unattended" he reminds me, I playfully rolled my eyes at him as he stepped away from the counter. "Stop stressing, Sam, the store will be fine. Go do what it is that you need to do" I hoped the door, patting my thigh for Lucky to enter.

Mr Wilson left as Lucky made himself welcome in the store, I closed the door and treated Lucky to his own biscuit before starting to restock the shelves. 

——

"Good afternoon, Y/n!" A familiar voice sings louder than the bell as the door fly’s open. "Peter! How are you?" I smiled softly as I was greeted with a smile of his own. "Oh you know how it is, busy busy!" He chuckles, "I ran into Mr Wilson earlier, he mentioned you were here alone today so I thought I'd come by and see if you, uh, needed anything" he adds. A hint of red fills his cheeks while his eyes struggle to stay connected to mine. 

It's no secret that young Peter Parker has a crush on me, the entire town knows it. Although he is a very sweet young gentleman, I guess I've just never found myself interested in him in a romantic manner. In fact, I've never really thought about anybody in a romantic manner now to think of it…

"You're very sweet, Peter. Thank you but things are pretty good. I've had no troubles today and please, thank your Aunt May for the cookies and Lucky's treats!"

"Oh, you're welcome! You know Aunt May, always baking" Peter chuckles once more. I could sense a hint of nerves in his voice and the redness in his cheeks grew deeper. "Peter, is everything okay? Do you need a drink? Some water?" I asked with a concerned frown. "No, no. I'm more than fine, thank you. It's just, it's getting a bit wild out there and I thought I'd walk you home later when you're finished here. Don't want you getting sick or anything" he gives me another soft smile. 

"It's meant to rain?" My frown only grew bigger as I looked out the window. Dark gray skys covered the town and beyond, distant flashes of lighting lit up the darkness for a moment. Wind blew the dry leafs onto the Main Street, horses stomped their hoofs with every crack of thunder that could be heard from the far, far distance. 

"Well shoot!" I sighed.

"Did Mr Wilson tell you when he'd be back?" Peter asked. 

"Sure hope it is soon, I have the animals I should move into the barn before the storm arrives" 

"It doesn't seem like it is far off. Maybe I could watch the store for you? I wouldn't mind at all" 

"You're very kind, Peter but I'm not sure if Mr Wilson would appreciate me leaving the store in somebody else's hands. I know you wouldn't ruin the place or steal from him but he is trusting me today and I don't want him to think otherwise" I explained as I watched the dark clouds darken, it'll be a big storm by the looks. 

"I'd be more than happy to make sure your stock is in the barn then" he offered, I turned to him and kindly shook my head. "I'm sure Mr Wilson will be back soon. Thank you again Peter, you're very kind. If you don't mind, there's a few things I should really get done before Mr Wilson returns" I smiled softly, hoping not to have hurt the boy's feelings.

"I plan on having supper at the Saloon, if you need me, I'll be there" Peter smiles before leaving the store. 

For the rest of the afternoon, I cleaned the store and did some stock take and made sure the store was exactly how Mr Wilson would like to have it when he returns and just my luck, he returns before the storm hammers down. 

"Y/n, thank you for all your help today!" He walks into the store, placing his hat on the  coat rack. He looked rather dirty; a nice bath would be in order for when he gets home if I didn't know better.

"You're welcome, Mr Wilson! I'm sorry to leave in a rush but I really need to be getting home before the rain starts" I grabbed my things, Lucky following closely behind me. 

"Of course, you best be safe now" 

I rushed out of the store, glad the rain hadn't started pouring down as yet but it was coming. You could smell it, the thunder got louder, the lighting got closer and the wind got stronger. The main street was quiet as people already began to make their way indoors until the storm pushed over. 

"Come on, Lucky! We haven't got much time!" I patted my thigh lightly before Lucky and I began to race home. 

——

The rain soaked the dry ground as expected and Lucky and I were able to get the animals into the barn before it came down heavy. I left a lantern in the barn just so I could keep an eye on it from the house, Kate hates when I do that, says it's a waste of resources but she'll thank me one day for it. 

"How long do you think she'll be this time Lucky?" I looked towards him as we both rested by the fire. He tilts his head at me as if he truly understands what I am saying. We listen to the rain dance on the roof and wind whistle outside while the fire cracks and keeps us warm. It's nights like this that I wish Kate wouldn't go off hunting, it's most lonely at night. But I know we need the money, just until mother and father come home.

"Come Lucky, let's check the barn" I stood up from my mothers rocking chair, and wandered over to the window. A frown creeps upon my brows when I notice the lantern, I left behind earlier in the night was gone. I rushed to my room and grabbed the rifle under my bed, grabbed my father's thick coat, a lantern and headed for the backdoor with Lucky right beside me. It was only a short walk from the house to the barn, but the rain was quick to soak me in its gift to the ranchers. Slowly, I pushed the large wooden door open, my rifle tightly in my grip. Lucky entered first, sniffing the ground for anything that didn't belong while I slowly followed behind him, one foot after another. 

Only a few steps in and I saw the lantern I had left behind, in the corner where Kate's horse would've been stabled. "Come out! I have a gun and I am not afraid to use it!" I called out, keeping my distance. Lucky walked quickly over to the empty stable slot, growling. "I said come out!" I repeated. 

"Don't shoot" a thick Russian accent came from the corner of the barn, "I won't hurt you, just call off the dog, please" the unknown voice added. 

"How can I trust you? You're a stranger in my barn! I have every right to shoot you" 

"Trust me, if I were here to harm you, you'd already be dead"

I took a few small steps closer to them, Lucky stood his ground and continued to growl. I wasn't going to tell him to back off just yet. "What are you doing here? Do you always just welcome yourself into other people's properties like this?" I asked. 

"You ask too many questions" the voice replied, "call the dog off, please" they asked once more. 

"Lucky, back!" I called once I laid my eyes on the intruder. A young woman, maybe no older than me. Blonde hair that was braided and she certainly didn't seem to dress how most women dress. Beside her was her gun belt and holster, her hat placed freely beside them. The woman was covered in blood, her right hand pressed tightly against her left shoulder. "You're hurt" you spoke softly while keeping my rifle pointed at her.

She chewed her bottom lip and nodded, "I'll be gone by morning, I just need a place to stay for the night"  

"How can I trust your word?" I asked. The woman smirked like I had just made a joke, an odd joke if my question was funny to her. 

"I know better than to kill a rich small-town girl" she replies causing me to frown at her words. 

"I am not rich girl. So, if you planned on robbing me later, you would find nothing, I can assure you of that" 

She chuckled, "well, maybe not rich but you are well off than others. Besides, I have no interest in robbing homesteads" 

"You know nothing about me" I snapped, pointing my rifle at her a little higher, aiming for her head. "Get off my property!" I demanded. Lucky growled once more, showing the unknown intruder his sharp canine teeth. 

"Maybe we could come to a deal. It seems money is a touchy subject to you, yes?" The blonde hissed in pain when she moved her right hand even the slightest inch. I didn't reply, my eyes were drawn to the amount of blood her hand was covered in. "I'll pay you" she spoke, gaining my attention once more, "$5 a day. If you help me. I'll give you the first three days right now if I could move my hand but as you can see, if I do that, I will bleed out" she offers. 

"Once I have recovered you will never see of me again, I give you my word" she adds. $5 a day would really help Kate and I and by the looks of her wound, she could be here for weeks. "I know you're thinking about it but I do not have time for you to think" her thick Russian accent brings me out of my thoughts, I nodded as I slowly lowered my rifle. 

"We best get you to the house then" 

----

"I'm sorry if that hurt" I spoke softly to the blonde as I bandaged her up, after pulling the bullet from her wound and cleaning the area with alcohol, she suggested cauterizing the wound with a lit candle. The smell of burning flesh is something I will never forget. "Don't stress, I've experienced worse" she looked to me with a soft smile. 

"How did this happen anyway?" I asked as I started to clean up the mess. I offered the woman my room until she was back on her feet, and I hoped Kate wouldn't have noticed when she came home. 

"Just a little miss understanding with an outlaw. I'm a bounty hunter" she informs me. 

"A bounty hunter? That's a little strange for a woman to be doing"

"Well, sometimes women just do a job better" 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. It's not often I meet women who aren't following the rules of society" My eyes dropped, I knew my comment offended her. 

"You should travel more; you'd be surprised on what or whom you might come across. What's your name?" She pulled the covers up over her, making herself comfortable on my bed. 

"Tell me yours and I'll tell you mine" I looked to her once more. She chuckled, "I'm Yelena, Yelena Belova. Your turn" she replies. I walked towards the bedroom door, my hands full of rubbish from cleaning her wound, "I'm Y/n, Y/n Bishop. I'll get you some water" 

"Bishop" Yelena repeated, "your father is Derek Bishop?" she questioned. I nodded slowly, "you know him?" I asked. Yelena shook her head, "no, just heard of him in passing. Water would be great, thank you" she watched as I walked out of the room. Her tone made me question if she was telling the truth; did she know my father? Maybe she knew where my parents were?

Lucky followed me to the kitchen, I grabbed two cups of water and returned to my bedroom, placing one glass on the wooden beside table next to my lantern. "You should get some rest; I'll make breakfast in the morning" I looked to Yelena who reached for her coat that sat at the end of the bed. "As promised, the first three days" she says before handing me $15 dollars in 1 ten-dollar bill and a 5 dollar bill. 

"T-thank you" I smiled softly, "do you like coffee? I could make some in the morning" I asked. 

"Never start the day without one" she smiled, "goodnight, Y/n" she added. 

"Goodnight" I walked towards the door, "oh, I hope you don't mind" I turned to face the blonde stranger once more, "I'm going to lock the door, you know…for safety" I added nervously. 

"I thought you would. I understand, I need to gain your trust" she nodded slightly. 

"If you need anything, just call out. I won't be far" 

"Thank you, again" Yelena smiled once more before I closed the door, making sure it was locked before making my way to Kate's room.

Taglist: @madislayyy | @riveramorylunar | @teganmiller | @kyleeservopoulos | @yelenaslyubov | @kacka84 | @lesbiarmy | @meurgen | @caporal-nino | @sl-ut | @scarletwidowblackwitch | @dogtamer415 | @mousetheorist | @flohouse46 | @boredandneedfanfics | @gemz5 | @randomnessbecausewhynot | @unicorniusfallapatorius | 

If you want to be on the taglist for this series, please see the masterlist. It's link at the top of this post.

[fivestar-outlaw]

New Horizons (Park Seonghwa) (Epilogue)

Epilogue

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Fem!Reader

Words: 7.0k+

Warning(s): Mentions of reader being anxious/having anxiety, some swears, drinking, i think thats it.

SMUT (18+) WARNINGS: Multiple orgasms, oral (F receiving)/ face sitting, slight cockwarming, birthcontrol used, No condom use, PiV penetration, cowgirl yeehaw

A/N: Fucking- Finally finished the epilog. Grad school is slowly but surely killing me rn. I only had time to write this during the undergrad class im taking for credits iubgouoren. I hope yall enjoy.

Reader is implied to be living in the US bc uh TIMEZONES ARE FUCKY and i didnt realize how reliant i was on mine (PST) when looking up KST

English dialogue is italicized, Korean dialogue is not

Summary: Attempting an all-nighter while playing Animal Crossing alongside your bias, you didn't expect your turnip prices to be such a high amount... nor did you expect Park Seonghwa to actually accept your offer to sell his turnips on your island.

Series Masterlist | Navigation

You sat at your desk, phone set up for a video call with Seonghwa. You felt nervous. Tomorrow is your graduation, where you'll finally be done with this aspect of your life and will be moving onto the next step. Despite the distance, you and Seonghwa were as close as ever. You both missed each other dearly but talked as frequently as possible. 

You were a little sad that he and the rest of Ateez couldn't make it to your graduation, but you understood why. You didn't have much hope when you told Hongjoong the date and he told you he'd ask if they could. You tried to tell him not to ask since you knew they would be busy with an upcoming comeback, but he insisted he'd try. He talked to you the next night saying they had a packed schedule for that week and couldn't. You figured as much but it still made you a little sad.

You hear the tone for the video call and you quickly answer it with a smile. You see Hwa sitting there, but not in his room. You couldn't quite figure out where he was. He seemed to be wearing a loose sweater and a pair of glasses frames.

"Hello, jagiya." Seonghwa smiled sweetly, he seemed tired.

"Hello, love." You respond. "How are you? You seem a little tired."

"The week has been busy."

"Aw, I'm sorry. Are you currently at a schedule?" You tilt your head. You see him look off to the side. You can see that he seems to be hiding something, but you figure it was because he couldn't talk about anything specific related to any of the filmed comeback videos.

"Yeah, we are staying at a hotel. We are going to start filming soon." He sighs. "It was a last minute decision since filming took longer than expected yesterday. I wish I could tell you everything that went wrong but I can't."

"I'm sure it'll go better today, love."

 "Thank you, jagiya. But enough about me, jagiya, how are you? Are you excited for tomorrow?"

"A mix of excited and nervous. Excited to have my degree... nervous for whatever comes next. Nervous about walking across that stage to get that empty diploma case and not having a solid next thing waiting for me." You press your lips together and glance over to your cap and gown hanging in your open closet. The whole ordeal almost seems daunting now. "I've applied for jobs in my field but I haven't heard anything back... I doubt any will get back to me when I am fresh out of university."

"I wish I was there with you, (Y/N)." He looked into the camera with a concerned expression. "You'll exceed at whatever you do. I know you will. You are smart and very determined."

"It's probably just all the nerves." You chuckle weakly.

"Just know myself and the others are cheering for you, even if we can't be there. Which, we are still sorry for by the way."

"Don't worry about it. I'll have my family film my walk across the stage and we will take lots of pictures to send to you all."

"We look forward to it." He smiles. You hear a door opening and what you believe to be Hongjoong's voice. You couldn't make out what he said but you saw Seonghwa nod before hearing the door close. "Sorry, (Y/N), I have to go. We need to get ready for filming today."

"Don't apologize, love. You got this. I'm sure you will do great." You smile and you can just tell some of the stress he was feeling dissipate. 

"I love you, jagiya." He says softly.

"I love you too." There is some hesitancy to hang up but you bit the bullet and pressed the little red button on the call. You sigh, but feel lighter. It was like talking to Hwa helped calm your worries.

---

You stood with your family for a moment before you needed to join the rest of the graduating students. You stood with them in your cap and gown and a nice outfit underneath. You couldn't help but wring your hands together. You weren't necessarily nervous, but you did feel a little anxious from the excitement now. You felt you childhood best friend place their hand on your shoulder and they give you a calm smile.

"It's going to be fine, (Y/N)." They gently squeezed your shoulder. "I doubt you'll trip, so don't worry."

"Well I wasn't worried about tripping until now." You groan. "I'm not nervous. I just... can't stay still."

"Oh (Y/N), it's okay to be nervous." Your mother coos, rubbing small circles into your upper back. "Just think about the surprise we have planned for you."

"Surprise?"

"Hun, you weren't suppose to mention that." Your father chuckles. 

"I thought I told you all I needed was just a nice dinner at my favorite restaurant." You say softly. "I hope you didn't spend too much-"

"Don't worry about it. We wanted to get you something for such a big day." Your father grinned. You were going to argue back but heard the call for graduating students to start getting in place for the ceremony.

"Make sure to film my walk please!" You said and they nodded. Your family and your best friend gives you one last hug before you go to where you were supposed to, while they went off to grab seats.

You take a deep breath as you find your spot in line with the rest of your majors getting the same degree level as you and your roommate, who also was graduating alongside you. You smiled at some of your classmates you were friendly with and chatted with them. You were given a slip of paper with your name on it by one of your professors and you were left to wait for the ceremony to start. 

You felt your phone buzz under your gown. You were glad you picked something to wear underneath with pockets. You manage to get your phone out and you smile. All of Ateez were wishing you well and saying their congrats. San even sent a selfie of them all together, which they said was taken after they finished filming. You were glad they messaged you and made sure to tell them to get some rest since it was around 6am for them.

The line you were in started moving so you quickly put your phone away and started walking with your line. You can hear lots of chatter from other graduating students and could hear the chatter from people in the stands. You and the others stood still until you heard one of the deans call you guys to enter. You hear the crowd cheer as the graduating class enters the area. You tried to pinpoint your family and your best friend but had no luck finding them in the sea of people. You take your seat and wait for the rest of the graduate students to also take their seats as the stereotypical graduation march song plays.

The song ended when everyone was finished sitting down. Next were speeches by the college president, a provosts, and a dean whom you never personally interacted with, and then two professors spoke; one is the chair of your major which made you smile. Next were student speeches, neither person you recognized.

You gulp, watching as the rows ahead of you go up one by one as they were instructed by a professor to do so. There was the constant noise of clapping with each name, followed by a few people loudly cheering for whoever just got called. You clapped along as well, watching each person receive their diploma case from the college president and walk to the side to get their picture taken professionally.

Next thing you knew the people in your row started to stand. You quickly got to your feet and follow along to the stage. You wait, taking small steps as person by person hands over their name slip and walk the stage. You were getting closer and closer to the speakers stand.

Then, it's your turn.

You made conscious steps to the speaker, not wanting to trip. You hand them your name card and wait as the person ahead finished crossing the stage. The speaker smiled and read your name into the microphone. You start walking across stage to the president as the crowd clapped.

You hear loud cheers coming from the stand on the other side of the stage, more than what you were expecting from the three people there seeing you graduate. You finally see your parents and your best friend up on their feet, your dad and friend shouting loudly. But in the row in front of them, you see eight figures also on their feet shouting as loud as they can. Immediately you can tell it is Ateez. Even with face masks, different hats, and inconspicuous clothes, you could tell they were your boys. Plus, you can easily tell Wooyoung and Mingi's voices as they were the loudest and most distinct.

A large smile broke out on your face as you kept your tears at bay. You walked the stage with your head held high. You shook hands with the college president and took hold of the diploma case. You walked to the end of the stage and carefully took the steps down. You got your picture taken and you started walking back to your seat.

You look up at the stand when you heard your name shouted repeatedly by Wooyoung, San, and Seonghwa. Each member of Ateez waved as you walked by and you made sure to wave back. You felt pure happiness in the moment.

---

When the ceremony ended and all the graduates exited the way they walked in, you immediately started making your way outside. Your parents texted saying they were waiting for you by the large oak tree. You weave your way through the sea of students and their families as fast as you could. You could see the top of the tree but you knew the trunk was still some distance away from where the ceremony was held. 

You finally breach the crowd and see your parents, your best friend, and Ateez, along with their manager. They spotted you and called your name. You immediately quickened your pace.

Wooyoung held out his arms for a hug but you passed him and immediately clung to Seonghwa. The tears you held back immediately fell as you hugged him.

"Y-You're here! I can't believe you're here! Hongjoong said you guys were busy. You said you-" You rapidly spoke.

"Slow down, jagiya." Seonghwa chuckles. He held you tightly and rubbed your back. 

"Sorry, my love." You sniffle and look to his face. Despite the black mask covering his nose down to his jaw, you can tell he has a big grin on his face. He moves a step back from you, resting his hands on your jaw. The pads of his thumbs swipe away your tears gently. "I'm so happy to see you in person again."

"I'm happy too." He carefully guided you to turn around so he could move back in front of you, his back to the crowd. He pulls down his mask and leans in, his soft lips meet yours in a loving kiss. You couldn't help but smile against his lips as it felt like world around each of you melted away. You both slowly pulled away but kept your faces close. "Congratulations. I am so proud of you, (Y/N)." He whispers and kisses each cheek, making you giggled. 

"Congratulations, (Y/N)!" Wooyoung broke the moment of peace between you both as he pulled you into a big hug. You tilt your head back and laugh, all while there rest of Ateez swarmed you for their own hugs. Your face ached from how much you were smiling.

"Seonghwa contacted us a week after you had us do that video call with him." Your mother started to explain. You remember that day well, feeling nervous for your parents to meet your long distance, idol boyfriend. But they immediately loved him and exchanged contact information; mostly just in case you got in an emergency so they could inform him. Subsequently, of course, your parents met the rest of Ateez. "They wanted to surprise you and here they are."

"Sorry I lied to you, (Y/N)." Hongjoong laughed, his smile telling you he was anything but apologetic. "Yuhno suggested the idea of it being a surprise when I ran into him before I talked it over with our company. So really, blame him."

"Hey, you could of said no, Joong-hyung." Yuhno playfully glared then set his sights on Seonghwa. "Didn't you initiate the call with her parents?"

"Yes, but Sannie and Woo also sat in on the call too." Seonghwa shot back. The group delved into a big, non-serious argument of who is to blame for the lies. You shook your head with a chuckle and went to your parents.

"Thank you for arranging this." You hug them both tightly.

"Of course, (Y/N). We could see how happy you were when we met him and how yourself you were with the rest of the group, so we knew we had to put this together for you somehow." Your father had a big smile on his face, you could see tears in his eyes. "Oh, my child is all grown up..."

"I've been grown up, dad. Don't cry, you're going to make me cry again." You chuckle, feeling that sting of tears again in your eyes. You feel arms wrap around you from behind and you knew immediately it is Seonghwa. "Did you guys settle who's fault it is, love?"

"No, but it seems everyone puts the blame back on Hongjoong." He laughs. He smiles at your parents and gives them a polite bow of his head. The rest of Ateez joined back up with your parents and your best friend. They started discussing dinner plans, you jumping in when needed for translation help.

Your smile doesn't leave your face as you lean back into Seonghwa. You could have just cheap take out with everyone and you'd be happy.

---

You said goodbye to your parents and best friend when everyone arrived back at your apartment after dinner. They wanted to let you have some time alone with Ateez. Your parents managed to reserve a private space at a great restaurant ran by a friend of your mother's. The manager went to buy snacks and drinks for the rest of you guys for tonight at a near by convenience store.

"Wow you have a nice place, (Y/N)." Yeosang compliments as he looks at the various decorations and how you and your roommate placed the minimal furniture.

"Thanks, it was a collaborative effort with my roomie. Which, be as loud as you guys want. She won't be in for a few nights since she'll be staying with her family." You smile and turn go to put leftovers from dinner in the fridge, missing the way everyone looked towards Seonghwa. "How long are you here for?"

"Just the rest of tonight. We fly back early in the morning tomorrow. We may have pulled this off but we still have busy schedules coming up." Jongho answers.

"Sorry we can't stay longer." San sighs with an apologetic smile.

"No worries, I'm happy you guys made it for today." You grin and move to sit next to Hwa on the couch, immediately leaning against him. "So I take it you guys flew in last night? Is that why you were actually in a hotel, love?"

He chuckles and nods, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. His fingers gently traced patterns on your arm. "I'm glad we got to witness this."

"Of course, I'd do the same for you guys."

"Well, if you would..." Mingi smiles as he walks in front of you, holding out several small pieces of paper for you. You gingerly take them, and look at everyone with confusion and curiosity as they surrounded the couch. Wooyoung took his spot next to you and rested his chin on your shoulder, aka, on Seonghwa's hand.

"Oh my God." You gasp as you look at each paper. They chuckled at your shock. There were several plane tickets; one to South Korea, a round trip ticket to Japan and then back to Korea, and then one back home. The next paper was a pass for the waterbomb festival coming up.

"We will email you the actual virtual tickets soon." Wooyoung said with a big grin.

"A graduation present from us and our manager." Seonghwa kissed your temple.

"This had to be so expensive..."

"Don't worry about it at all. We didn't have to pay for the waterbomb ticket and we all chipped in for the flights." Yuhno said softly from behind the couch. You felt his hand pat the top of your head a few times. There was a knock at the door and the tallest went to open the door for their manager,  who came in with two, black plastic bags and one backpack. You quickly got up to your feet and approached him with a smile.

"Thank you for all you have done."

"I should thank you for helping me keep them in line." He chuckles and hands you the plastic bags. He walks over to the couch and sets the backpack at Seonghwa's feet. "Remember, we have a flight back to Korea tomorrow. Don't drink too much. (Y/N), drink all you want."

Some time passed and everyone was lounging around in the living room of your apartment. Mingi, San, and Wooyoung took over the couch. Jongho, Yuhno, Yeosang, and their manager sat in chairs from the small kitchen table. You, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong were sitting on the floor, all while everyone watched a trashy, American reality show. You were sitting between Hwa's legs with your back against his chest while he rested against San's legs.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You fish it out and unlock it, seeing it was an email notification. You tapped the notification, though you didn't read what it was for, figuring it was a promotional thing or something. You looked up at the tv screen for a moment before taking a moment to read over the contents of the email.

Your eyes slowly widened with each line you read. You felt your heart flutter as you sit up straight. You felt Seonghwa's hands on your hips and he had a curious look on his face.

"(Y/N)? What's wrong?" He asks softly, trying not to draw everyones attention. He leans forward and you can feel his chest on your back again, his chin on your shoulder. You raise your phone screen up so he can have an easier time reading the email. You turn your head just enough to see his expression turn to one of shock. You felt him wrap his arms around your waist and hold you tight as a big smile broke out on his face. "Does... Does this mean...?"

"What's happening?" Sannie asked from the couch. He leaned forward as well and you pass him your phone. You can practically feel the excitement oozing from Seonghwa. San suddenly stood up, knocking into the eldest's back. He had a huge grin, his dimple prominent on his face. 

Wooyoung snatched your phone from San and you watched as his eyes scan over the screen. He then looks up at you with a big smile. "No way!"

"Care to share with the rest of us?" Mingi asked while Yeosang muted the channel. 

"Well-" San started to speak but then clasps his own hand over his mouth for a moment. He hands you back your phone and sits back down. He eagerly gestures for you to speak. You feel Hwa's hands gently squeeze your hips.

"A job I applied for contacted me and told me they were looking for fresh faces and say they see potential with my resume, my CV, and from my letters of recommendation." You beamed and everyone looked excited for you. A sea of congratulations soon followed. You kept your beaming expression and you see Hongjoong look at you.

"There is more, isn't there?" He asked, a smile growing on his face.

"The job is located in Seoul. And they are allowing me to start towards the end of the year to give me time to get my legal documents situated and to move." 

There was a moment of silence.

Then, your apartment became chaos with pure excitement. Seonghwa, Wooyoung and San already pledged themselves to help you find a place in your upcoming visit. Mingi and Yuhno express excitement for the prospect of staying over at your new place. Yeosang, Jongho, and Hongjoong already start to make plans for when you start living there. Everyone decides to have one more drink to celebrate, their manager unable to say no to such an occasion.

---

You give each member a hug as they are about to leave for the night, saying your goodbyes. You move to hug Seonghwa but he sidesteps you and moves to stand behind you. You give him a confused look while the others chuckle.

"I'm staying with you tonight, jagiya." He pecked your cheek. The others say goodnight, their manager telling him to be read by 7am, and they all quickly leave. Now, it's just you and Seonghwa. 

"That's why he brought a backpack for you." You laugh and turn to face him. You place your hands on the back of his neck and raise a brow. "You've been nothing but surprises today. I really do appreciate it." 

"Of course. I'd do just about anything for you." He smiles sweetly and leans in to kiss you. Unlike the other kisses you two shared today, this one was longer and more passionate. You can feel his lips move against yours as he swipes his tongue along your bottom lip. You smile against the kiss. Before you could part your lips, he pulls away with a flirtatious look. 

"I love you, love." He smiles at your words. He lifts his hand up and gently traces his fingers down the side of your face, sending shivers down your spine. His arms wrap around your body and he keeps you pressed against him.

"I love you too, jagiya." He brings you into another intense kiss, his tongue invading your mouth this time. You feel his fingers curl in against your back, all while your hands find themselves in his hair. He breaks the kiss once more but rests his forehead against yours. "Would you like to celebrate a little more? We don't have to go further than this-"

"I would love to." You grin. You move from Seonghwa's grasp and take his hand, pulling him to your bedroom.

The second you closed the door, Hwa is already guiding you to your bed. He lays you down on your back while he crawls over you, his lips pressed against yours. His hands grip your hips before he starts to slide them under your shirt. He shifts his leg, placing it between your thighs. His knee is just barely brushes against your core. His hands start to gently kneed your breasts over your bra.

Seonghwa starts to trail tender kisses down from your mouth to your neck. You smile at the affection and you place a kiss of your own on the top of his head. He smirked against your neck as he gently bites your skin. You feel him shift his leg that was between your legs, applying a small amount of pressure against your cunt. You let out a soft noise from the sensation and you can feel yourself growing wetter and wetter.

You move one your hands down to the growing bulge in his pants. Seonghwa chuckled and sat up, taking your hand off him.

"Tonight is all about you, jagiya." He smiled softly. He took hold of both your wrists in his hand and held them above your head. "Let me worship you."

You felt a pleasant shiver down your spine again and you nod. Hwa let go of your hands and began kissing your neck again. This time his kisses and bites to your neck were more intense. You knew for sure you would have a couple of marks there. He released his hold on your wrists but you kept your arms about head. Your body is completely at his mercy and that had you excited.

You felt him press his leg against your aching core again and this time you rolled your hips to seek pleasure, causing yourself to moan.

"Good, jagiya." Seonghwa chuckles as he moves his face by your ear. You feel his lips brush against your ear before he gently nips it. He sat up and helped you up as well.

He hums softly, tracing his nose along your face before he kisses you again. He gently nibbles your bottom lip and stares deeply into your eyes. Hwa licks his lips as he leans down and scans your body with his eyes. You feel his hand take hold of your shirt and slowly lift it up and off your body. His fingers nimbly unclasps your bra and he tosses it off your body. 

Seonghwa's hands caress and gently squeeze your breasts, the pads of his thumbs were on your nipples as he rubbed small circles with them.  He hummed with a smile. "I missed these."

You chuckle softly. "You missed my boobs?"

"Yes." He moves himself so his face his close to them. "I missed all off you, (Y/N). I missed your face, your touch, your taste... I missed seeing your smile in person, I missed hearing your laugh right beside me. I miss you."

"I miss you too Hwa." You give his cheek a tender peck. You bite your bottom lip as his hands still kneaded your breasts and his thumbs applied some pressure. "Luckily I got that job. I'll be a lot closer to you by next year."

"Still feels so far away." He whispers and starts kissing your chest. He bites the skin and sucks, doing this until he reached your nipples. His mouth encompasses the pebbled skin. You bring one of your hands up to his head and combed your fingers through his hair. He sucks and gently nibbles, his tongue rolling over your perked bud. He does this to both nipples for a few moments before pulling away, a line of saliva briefly hangs between his lips and your skin. "I want to try something, jagiya." 

"What do you want to try, love?"

"Would you want to sit on my face and let me pleasure you?" His question makes your face flush with heat. 

"You'd want to do that? Are-Are you sure you want me to sit on your face?" You can feel yourself getting more wet by the second.

"Of course." He smiles sweetly. He sits up straight so he can meet your eyes easily, his hands slide down and gently hold onto your hips. "Like I said, jagiya, I missed your taste and I think you will look breathtaking doing so... Do you want to try this out with me?"

"Then... I would like to." You bite your bottom lip and smile. His face broke out in a grin and he helped you off your lap. He moves to lay down as you slip off your pants and underwear. You move yourself up the bed near his head and carefully placed your leg on the other side of his head. His hands slid up from behind your thighs and your ass to hold your hips. You hovered over his face, looking down at him between your legs. You were a bit hesitant to lower yourself down though. "Are you sure-"

You didn't even get to finish your question when you felt Seonghwa pull you down to his mouth. Immediately his tongue went to work against you clit. You moan, one hand bracing yourself against the wall while you bury the fingers of the other in his dark hair. A vibrator certainly worked wonders, but there is something else about his tongue. He moved his up and down against your clit before moving it in circles clockwise.

"Hwa..." You say, almost sounding breathless. He simply hums and continues his ministrations with his tongue. He nuzzles his faces against your cunt and adjust his mouth so he could lap you up. Seonghwa's tongue briefly pushes against your clit and then you feel his lips wrap around your sensitive bud, gently sucking on it. Instinctively you bite your lip to hold back your moan, making him lightly slap your ass, not enough to hurt but to get a point across. He lifts you just enough to free his mouth so he could speak.

"You said your roommate is gone for the night?" He asks and you give him a quick 'yes.' You felt his lips curl into a smile. "Then don't hold back, jagiya. It's just us."

You feel his tongue move against you again in all the right ways, making you moan again. You didn't hold it back this time and you could tell Hwa is pleased with that. He shifted underneath you and he buries his face into your cunt, he continued to gently suck and swirl his tongue around your clit. His ministrations had you squirming, slowly rocking your hips against him, and you were making all sorts of noises. 

"Seonghwa..." You whimper. You speaking his name in such a manner had him groan in pleasure. You feel him shift yet again, his grip on your hips firm. His tongue is off your clit and you feel his tongue swirl around your entrance. He penetrates you and thrusts with his tongue while his nose brushed against your swollen bud. His mouth is working wonders on your and you can feel yourself getting closer to an orgasm. Hwa doesn't relent, keeping the pleasure going and keeping you relatively still with his hands holding onto your hips. "Fuck... Hwa I'm-!"

Your walls fluttered around his tongue. You feel your thigh muscles tighten and they press against his head. A loud noise of pleasure leaves your lips as you throw your head back. Hwa squeezes and lightly massages your hips as you climax, his tongue slowly slides out from your hole and gently licks your cunt. He waits a few moments before gently guiding you off his face. You lift a leg and sit next to his head, your back against your headboard. 

Seonghwa quickly got up, licking his lips clean of your juices though his chin and nose still shined with your climax. He sits next to you and his hands caress your legs. He smiles at you, a look of satisfaction on his face, while you came down from your orgasm. 

"You have a little something on your face." You giggle and gesture around your own chin and nose. He chuckles and you watch as he swipes his fingers over his skin and then lick them clean.

"Better?" He whispers with a slight smirk. You can tell he was trying to be sexy but he still had some of your cum on him. You giggle softly making him blush and chuckle.

"Here, hold on for a moment." You get up from the bed and head out of your room to your bathroom. You grabbed a clean wash cloth, dampened it with some water, and returned to your bedroom. You hand Seonghwa the cloth and he gives you an appreciative smile, his cheeks and ears dusted with a subtle pink. You sit back down as he cleans off his face. He sets the cloth on your nightstand and looks back at you.

You watch as Seonghwa gets off the bed. His eyes scan your body with a smirk. Slowly, he took off his shirt and slid off his pants and boxers. Both of you were completely nude and you can see just how turned on he is. Hwa gets back onto your bed and gets right up to you, his face mere inches from yours.

"I love you so much, (Y/N)." He whispers. His hand comes up and gently caresses your jaw and neck.

"I love you too, Seonghwa." You smile at him, your tone soft and full of love. He smiles back and presses his lips against yours. His kiss is tender this time around. His hand cradles the back of your head to keep you in place, but you know you don't want to pull away in this moment. Your fingers graze the skin of his bare chest. You slowly brought them up to his collarbones and then his neck.

"Hmm, I want to take this all the way, jagiya." He pauses for a moment as his eyes look down at your body and then back at your face. He smirks. "I want to hear all those lovely noises you make."

"If I get to ride you, my love." You say in a sensual tone. His smirk crumbles to a flustered look at your suggestion, but he still smiles regardless.

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes." You nod and he bites his bottom lip. Seonghwa moves and sits down, his back against the headboard now. You grin, moving to stand on your legs before you throw your leg over his lap, effectively straddling him. His hands are once again on your hips as he pulls your body against his. He has a lustful and excited smile on his face.

"Condoms? I brought some-"

"No, it's fine. I trust you and I'm still taking birth control." You smile.

You reach behind and grab the shaft of Seonghwa's cock. You carefully drag his tip through your wet folds to tease him a little. You line him up to your entrance and look at his face. He gives a small nod for you to continue and you do so. You slowly lower yourself down, languidly taking him inside you. You both let out a soft moans. You sat in his lap, your hands grip his shoulders, while his cock fully inside you and you take a moment to savor the feeling.

"Ah, you feel so good, jagiya." Seonghwa mumbles, his lips barely brush against yours. You can feel his hot breath but you didn't care. His eyes were half-closed as he stared deeply into yours. You can feel his hands caressing your hips, thighs, and ass. His length twitches inside and you can tell he is full of anticipation for you to start moving. Hwa gives you a sweet smile, which contrasts with the current, steamy situation. "Take your time. You have control right now until you want me to take over."

"Thank you, love." You whisper softy and peck his lips. You wait a full two minutes before you started moving. You take a slow and steady pace, your thigh muscles flexing as you raise yourself up and down on his cock. Seonghwa's hands firmly held your hips yet he made no effort to control your movements, he simply assisted you so you wouldn't be doing all the work. 

"This feels nice." Hwa murmurs and leans his head down, his lips pressing against your neck. You feel his teeth graze your skin and he gently nips at your neck.

"Feels s'good." You moan softly. You rock your hips at a pleasurable pace. It is a very sensual moment between you both. It was just you and him, nothing else mattered. He raised his head from your neck and pressed his forehead against yours. He looked at you with pure adoration and love. His hands slide to your lower back and then moved up to your shoulder blades. You feel his arms against your sides as he hugged you close to his chest. You still moved your hips at a slow pace. 

This is a moment of passion and pleasure, but also a moment of love and bliss.

You sunk all the way down on him and gently grind your hips against him, feeling pleasure come from your clit grazing his pubic mound. Seonghwa smiles at you, enjoying how you look getting yourself off on him. He kiss your cheek and his lips linger to you skin for a few moments. You feel his fingertips press into your back and rub small circles on your skin.

You returned to moving yourself up and down on his cock. You increased your speed, sometimes focusing on his tip and then rotating to taking him all the way. Regardless  of what you did, he was moaning and groaning at all your movements. His hands were back on your hips as you leaned away from him with your hands gripping his shoulders. You both wanted to see your faces.

You feel a coil-like sensation in your lower stomach as pleasure builds up again. Your breathing is harsh and deep, and you can feel your legs getting tired... but you wanted to keep going. Seonghwa could see and feel how you your stamina is waning. He smiles sweetly and leans forward to capture your lips in a passionate yet short kiss.

"Relax, jagiya." His voice is smooth and low. He holds your hips and stops your movements. Seonghwa then starts to thrust his hips up at a quick pace. A loud moan escapes your lips as you cling on to him. He leaned forward and nibbles on your neck while you feel one of his hands move from your hip to your pubic mound. Hwa pressed his thumb over your swollen clit and started rubbing circles.

"O-Oh, Hwa..." You whimper out. You feel that heat building up more and more inside you.

"Hng- You're amazing, (Y/N)."He moaned as well, moving his head away from your neck to stare at your face. You can see he was getting close to his own release by the erotic expression on his face. 

"I-I think... I'm going to cum again." You whisper, feeling that all too familiar feeling crawl up your legs. You looked at him with all the love you could muster. The intimacy and intense feelings all added to your impending orgasm. The way the head of his cock hit that sweet spot inside you just right and his thumb swirling and applying the correct amount pressure sent you over the edge. You lean forward with your forehead against his as a loud whine leaves your mouth, your walls fluttering around his cock.

"(Y/N)-!" He groaned, still thrusting into your cunt. He stared intensely into your eyes, chasing his own climax. His breathing grows ragged and his thrusts became off rhythm. A moan tumbles from his lips as he sloppily kisses you, thrusting one last time. You feel his cock twitch inside you as his cum coats your walls. He keeps himself fully sheathed inside you as you both catch your breaths.

"Seonghwa..." You murmur, your body slumping against his, resting your head on his shoulder. His arms wrap around you and his hands gently grip the skin of your back. You feel his warm breath fan over the back of your neck as he leveled out his breathing. Seonghwa made a noise that sounded like a mix of a sigh and a moan as he rests his head against yours.

Neither of you said anything further. Seonghwa keeps his arms tight around you while you equally clinged to him. Nothing really needed to be said in this moment, the high emotions you both shared spoke enough.

Minutes passed when you finally speak up.

"We should probably clean up and get you to bed." You whisper to him, pulling your head back to look over this face.

"I want to stay like this, jagiya." He murmurs, placing his lips on your neck. "I feel so close to you like this... "

"I know, love, but we have to be up early." Hwa groaned at this, which makes you laugh.

"Stop being right."

"Come on... let's take a shower, Hwa." He reluctantly helps you off his lap, his softening length now out of you. You both get off from your bed and you lead him out your room to your bathroom. His hands remained on your waist as you both walked and then waited for the shower water to warm up. He didn't want to let go of you just yet.

After the shower and after drying off, you both go back into your room to change into comfortable clothes to sleep in. He laid down first, slipping under the covers. When you joined him, you laugh when his arms pulled you flush against his body. Seonghwa tucks your head under his chin and he holds you firmly in his arms. You chuckle and hold him just as tightly.

"I don't want to let go of you again... this feels like it's going to be harder than when you when you visited." He says with a sigh.

"I know, Hwa, I know." You mumble, already feel an ache in your chest. "Let's savor the rest of tonight together."

There is a pause.

"I love you, (Y/N)."

"I love you too, Seonghwa."

Morning came too fast your liking. You and Seonghwa awoke with your limbs practically tangled. His warmth despite the temperatures warming outside is comforting in the moment. You both reluctantly got dressed and made Hwa a light breakfast.

A little before 7am, Ateez and their manager came back over to pick Seonghwa up and of course came to say goodbye. You got an earful of teasing when they see the blemishes and marks Hwa left on your neck. You hugged each member and of course your hug lingered on Hwa, with you both gently caressing each other's backs for comfort.

Goodbyes were harder this time around, but you still had that ray of optimism due to your move to South Korea. It will be rough, but with Seonghwa, the rest of Ateez, and even their manager, you knew it would be a feat you'll overcome.

Your new horizon awaits you and your life with Seonghwa seems to be on the right track.

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

Taglist: @stopeatread @hee0soo @tridkeys @pocketjoong-reads @seonghwaddict @lelaleleb @acciocriativity @h-nji

[reesespeanutbutterfuck]

imperfectionist (vinny hong x jo!reader)

jay jo's imperfectionist sister meets the flawful vinny hong.

part 1

part 2

pairing: vinny hong x jo!fem!reader

warnings: fem!reader, gifted!reader, cursing, mentions of blood & violence, mentions/flashbacks to vinny's shitty childhood. jo!reader (jay is reader's 1 year older brother, but they're in the same class), physical descriptions (resemblance to jay, jay's mother, heavily implied asian features) intelligent!reader, female rage, implications of academic pressure, middle child problems, second person's pov (you, you're, your), ANGSTY, lowkey self-indulgent, SPOILERS everywhere, includes momma bear vinny but then reader is also kind of a momma bear, reader is NOT yumi, but yumi still exists here. lmk if i forgot anyth

note: i can't stop tossing and turning while reading s4 lol. our vinny pls come back now im bawling my eyes rn

———

None of the recontres you had with Vinny Hong in the entirety of your life was normal.

The first time you encountered him was when you accidentally bumped into him in a vulnerable state while walking home under a light rain shower after a tiring day volunteering at the hospital your parents were working in. The light pouring rain hit your umbrella with soft thuds as you were finding your way through the alley you accidentally passed by after taking an alternative route, but getting a little lost in the process.

You shuddered when you heard a groan. You immediately looked around and kept your guard up in case it was a kidnapper. But no, it sounded like one of pain. Stopping your tracks and pulling over your feet, you looked around the alley. Your eyes expectantly scanned until your eyes found the source of the grumbling noise. There he was, slumped against the wall.

I knew it. you thought.

It was a man. How cliché. His head was bowed down so he couldn't see you. Let me guess, a high school boy was mobbed and injured somewhere and now is left to die in a dark alley to be found lifeless once the sun rises?

You scoffed. If only you had all the time in the world to be a delinquent, that will most likely be where you're meant for. These high school boys are wasting their lives when they unknowingly have the time to choose to be a better person. You discreetly envied how these kinds of people can still choose how they'll live their lives—regardless of presence of sense for separating actions between good and bad.

And so you walked past the alley.

Your steps slowed down as the man groaned again, this time followed by a rustle. A slight pang of guilt forming in the pit of your stomach. Damn it, this wasn't…

You reluctantly looked back to where the man sat. You've always sworn your life you wouldn't meddle in anything that wasn't your business. But for some reason, the guilt of having the ability to help but refusing to, drowned your fixed principle.

Just as you were having an inner banter with yourself, your feet made the decision for you instead and took you to him. You pushed the button on your umbrella to automatically close it, pointing the sharp end to the stranger. You weren't even sure if he's still alive because he suddenly quieted down after that last groan. Only the light from the nearest post gave you an unclear sight of the man and the fluff of his fiery red hair.

One of his hands fell limp on the floor while the other was covering his wound. It seemed like he's been in the same spot for minutes yet the distinct bright colour of fresh blood told you the injury happened not very a while ago. You weren't sure of how to approach him properly, so you lightly kicked his leg once, but he didn't respond. So you kicked him for the second time, this time, harder. Finally, he responded by quietly groaning in pain once again.

“Who… the hell… are you…?” He weakly questioned as looked up to squint and take in your face, but your figure was against the light from the lamp post, so your silhouette was the only thing he's capable of registering. Even when in pain, his voice still sounded atrocious. Like he's someone used to speaking to people harshly. Luckily, you weren't intimidated for a single bit. It'll take a lot more than harsh tones to drive you away. You've been there.

You fumbled inside your tote bag to search for your phone, “Who are you to ask?” When you got ahold of your phone, you turned the flashlight on and you got a clearer view of the blood oozing out of this stranger's side, staining his hand in the process. It looked like a stab wound, judging from the volume of the blood oozing out from the wound.

“As expected.” You raised your hand to point the sharp end of your umbrella to him once again. “I will help you. But if you attempt to do anything funny, I'll stab you on your other side, too.”

Your first option as was to call immediate professional help. As you tried to dial the hospital hotline to call an ambulance, your phone kept indicating there was no service. The signal's jammed. You almost threw your phone to the nearest wall out of frustration as you hit the side of it with your palm. You side-eyed the man behind you. Shit. Now what? This kind of stab wound is fatal, especially because he already lost plenty of blood beforehand. It wouldn't bleed that much if the penetration wasn't deep. It might have even hit a vital spot. Calling for help now will be difficult because of this deserted alley and the continuous pour of the rain didn't help either, plus, your phone has no service.

“..I don't need… your help...!” he glared at your silhouette and cursed himself as he shut his eyes tightly while attempting to sit upright, enduring the excruciating pain on his side.

“You're quite obnoxious for a dying man.” You looked around to search for more resources. This is a closed alley. If you leave him here for another minute to find help, he might completely lose his consciousness, he was already limp in the first place. You were left with no choice. Your hand hesitantly reached to fumble around your bag once again until you got an OS, gauze pads and sterilized medical stitching needles.

Your mother would be furious if ever she finds out you stitched a stranger's wounds. You can only imagine her yelling, “Patients are not your playthings and the Medical field is not your playground! Who are you to perform Medical procedures? You're not even a Doctor yet!” Yeah, for sure Dra. Jo wouldn't be so pleased to find out her daughter's attempt to fix someone up. You kneeled and looked at the stranger. You needed to gain his trust as professionally as possible.

“I won't ask your name since you're clearly hard to talk to. I'm [Y/N]. I'm no Guardian angel of yours. I do light voluntary work in hospitals and I have current trainings on how to attend to emergency patients. But I'm still a high school student so I'm not yet licensed. Anyway, going to a hospital will always be the safest option, but I have knowledge about stitching wounds, at least. I'm going to temporarily stitch you up really quick so you don't lose more blood, then we'll get you to a hospital once I find phone service.”

You surveyed his overall state, he looked very pale, although it's easy to tell that he's naturally pale, by losing a lot of blood, he's getting even paler each passing second. You were running out of time.

“Do you consent to this?” You asked him calmly through your glasses.

He breathed out heavily. You knew he was wary and reluctant. Which is understandable. But if it's not you, who else will do it? You heaved a sympathetic sigh. As you unemotionally tell him about the circumstances of his skepticality, that you well acknowledge.

“Hey, you might have a family member waiting for you at home. They would be devastated to just hear from the news that you were found dispatched and lifeless out here in the morning.” you looked around, left and right. “I won't force your consent out. I haven't touched you anywhere yet and I wouldn't if you don't want me to, so I can just leave you here, without me being a potential suspect of your murder. But you should probably think about the ones that didn't know their last sight of you alive was the last they'll get, ever.”

He looks at you for a few seconds while he grits his teeth, before he slowly, lightly nods. Shutting his eyes and removing his hand from covering the wound, implying that he had put his trust in you.

You checked his carotid pulse first. Just as you thought. Erratic and weakened. And then looked over to watch the shallow rise and fall of his shoulders. Shallow breathing... He definitely lost a high volume of blood already. You hastily started disinfecting everything—your hands, the tools, even the gloves. You checked his expression. You gave him a heads-up before lifting the side of his shirt to attend to the wound properly. You began working up and stitching the wound on his right side. You looked at his face once again that's being covered by the shade of the unfinished constructions caging the alley, while going through your first stitch.

“I'm sorry, this is the only option, for now. I'll find more professional help after this.”

He had no more energy left to open his mouth and reply. He grunts in pain while you were busy ushing the needle through-and-through. You asked him to bite down on a cloth while enduring the pain, since you didn't have anesthesia and he can feel every poke of the needle on his skin. You stitched him with precision with your skilled hands. Your hands were painted crimson red during the process.

This wasn't your first time stitching. You've done this a couple of times—but only to a simulator. You pulled yourself together as you kept in mind that a person's life is in your hands this time.

While you were focusing on the stitches, all the stranger can muster are croaky groans, as the pain of the wound and the stitches stung, so you tried to do it faster. When you were done, while wiping your blood-stained hands, you noticed how his chest was rising and falling rapidly as he was wincing in pain. He tried to look up at you again, but his sight of you was blurry.

“Don't worry, that'll be removed at once when you're taken to the hospital. What I did is only first aid, and you already lost a lot of blood so we still need to get you to the hospital as soon as possible.”

You pushed your knees to stand up and find phone signal, but before you can, his hand rose and reached for yours.

“No.” He clutched your hand to stop you. His hand was rough—and also large. You have large hands for a female, but his hand almost completely enveloped yours.

The side of your lips shifted downward while looking down at him. “You must really want to die.”

He gripped your hand tightly from the severe pain he's enduring. You know how much pain he's going through right now and he didn't mean to do so, so you let him squeeze your hand.

“I would rather die… than pay a hospital bill.” he weakly held on to you, falling completely unconscious. His head fell on your lap. You furrowed your brows and put his head into a more comfortable position.

Oh, so he was serious on dying?

You coming to his rescue definitely doesn't just end with a few stitches.

***

please bear with me, you guys. i wrote this way past my bedtime before a 7am class so it's yet still unedited lol ! always remember to put seeking professional help as top priority if you ever encounter this kinda scenario irl

[lemmeurs]

okay. here is my 1600+ words essay on raphael. if anyone would like to adress anything from it, please do but keep it civil! i am so damn invested in this topic, i wanna hear everyone's thoughts

raphael rant

(DISCLAIMER: this essay was not written in order to justify Raphael as a character or any of his actions or intentions. i am completely skipping any point of morality, whether my own or just in general, i simply wanted to somehow try and write my feelings and thoughts down while looking at the whole thing from an objective point of view, analyzing the design of the game, the plotline and his whole persona and just.. idk i wanted to see whether anyone else felt the way i do because i have been going INSANE over this for the past few days)

hi. i have come here today to express my thoughts and feelings on Raphael the cambion and "his final act". this is being randomly and spontaneously written in my notes app so please excuse the absolute chaos that this essay will be (no i won't be rereading it, fuck it we ball) (CONTAINS BG3 ACT III SPOILERS!!)

first of all — i am so beyond devastated that he gets killed. and not just by anyone, he gets killed BY US. THE PLAYER. WE AS THE PLAYER DELIVER THE FINAL BLOW THAT ENDS HIS EXISTENCE. not only is that very upsetting (because come on, hot devil man, obviously i don't wanna kill him??) but it also makes me feel so.. awful. like, everything about this is wrong and i hate the fact that there is no other option.

because let's review the course of the story in the house of hope:

- we barge into his house unannounced, uninvited, while he is absent

- we invade his privacy by entering what's his own personal space (yes, i know he stole it from Hope in the first place but that is not the point here — whatever his devil business is, it's still HIS, you know?? like he is a devil, this is the kinda stuff they do and honestly? i didn't want to stick my nose into it. but obviously i did because tHe sToRy etc etc. but still, it was his own thing that basically doesn't affect the player in any way so TECHNICALLY you dont have to free Hope. you can, if your character's moral compass advises so, but it doesn't affect the main plot.)

- we then proceed to walk around his house freely, lie to his archivist in order to look at the stuff we're already planning to steal

- we meet his personal incubus whom then we have the chance to either use or kill (i fought Haarlep so that's the point of view i'm looking from at this here, in which case i also robbed their corpse) and we rob his safe. and his whole bedroom actually. we read his journals. we use his bath.

- then obviously we go and rob his entire archive which includes all of his most precious possessions

- upon stealing, we slaughter every single creature in his house, fighting our way through to get to Hope's prison

- we then kill the two spectators he has guarding her (they were probably super hard to obtain??) and we just. free his prisoner. because yeah, that is the right thing to do, IM NOT SAYING THAT'S WRONG, but let's say we skip morality for a second, let's just focus on the fact that we have no ulterior motives in freeing Hope. we just wanna mess with HIS business because why not since we're already ruining all of his plans.

- and then we have the audacity to try to leave before he comes back and act like we were never there while his entire house is turned to shit.

now let's look at this list again but this time keep in mind the fact that at that point, he hasn't done A SINGLE THING to us. like, he has never harmed us, he treated us with (let's call it) "respect" and politeness, he was fine with our hesitation towards his deal and was willing to give us time. he was never aggressive towards us, he was never "the enemy".

and now you can say - okay wtf is wrong with you, that man literally admitted his intention of conquering the worlds, enslaving all mortals and basically becoming the tyrant of all while also most likely stealing everyone's souls for his own pleasure.

yes, he did, and yes, that's bad. but just because those were his intentions does not give us the right to do all that shit to him AND THEN KILL HIM. AS IF WE HAD THE RIGHT TO SERVE JUSTICE HERE?? YEAH HIS PLANS ARE EVIL BUT IT IS NOT UP TO US TO DICTATE HIS CONSEQUENCES. HIS PLANS WOULD ONLY SUCCEED IF WE GAVE HIM THE CROWN IN THE END, SO JUST- DON'T?? LIKE DO YOU GET WHAT I MEAN. IM NOT TRYING TO JUSTIFY HIS ACTIONS OR INTENTIONS, BY ALL MEANS. i'm just trying to express how weird this all made me feel because not everyone decides to play as the selfless, lawfully good hero of all, protecting the world from all evil, ever! this is roleplay, afterall!

and them obviously he comes home. he is furious, as he should be. but mostly he's betrayed because, as weird as it may be, he trusted us. he admitted to growing "quite fond of us, in his own way". he thought we were some weird sort of.. acquaintances? friends maybe? (again, i know most of our relationship with him is mostly just him manipulating us but still, it's quite clear he wasn't expecting this betrayal) and we just barged in there and disrespected him in the worst way possible. so obviously he wants to kill us now and obviously we can kill him since he's just a boss in a game. and that's what we do. and then.. that's it. we're the good guys. we ruined a man's whole career because we needed one of his toys, murdered him in his own house and just left. and we're supposed to be the good guys.

i think the source of my problem is that Raphael is never introduced as evil. we don't meet him as the big bad villain that we know we'll have to kill at some point. i swear to god, at the beginning of act 3 i trusted that man way more than i trusted the Emperor and i was so close to agreeing to his deal just because i felt like i could trust him and he would keep me safe (for some reason, let's blame it on those wonderful eyes of his).

we meet him so early on in the game and he follows through all 3 acts, making it feel like he's gonna be some key character that will matter in the end - turns out, no! we were just supposed to rob and kill him. and that's literally it. talk about wasted potential.

when i first met him i got the "unofficial narrator" vibes from him, as if he was only supposed to seem intimidating and "evil" but you could sense there was so much more to him and i was dying to see how his story would unwrap. i was so ready for a redemption act, a plot twist, anything. man was i disappointed. because how cool would it be if he turned out to be a part of the "gather your allies" quest?? imagine having him as an ally and an ACTUAL friend in the end??

and don't even GET ME STARTED on what the orb in Helsik's shop shows you after you kill him. the fact that he's not even dead yet but ABOUT TO BE DEVOURED BY MEPHISTOPHELES. ABOUT TO BE DEVOURED. BY HIS FATHER. HE. WHAT. THATS THE ENDING HE GETS. and we are the ones that served it to him when he got RIGHTFULLY pissed at us for doing all that shit to him. and im supposed to just be fine with it?? i'm supposed to feel like this was the ending he deserved and i did the right thing??

god what i would give for a different way. idk. striking a new deal with him. saving him from Mephistopheles afterwards. REDEMPTION ARC?? ANYTHING?? NO? THATS IT THEN?

now i know that you dont HAVE to kill him, you can either agree to his deal or just ignore him and the house of hope altogether. but that just defeats the whole purpose of this character?? agreeing to his deal and giving him the crown at the end results in a pretty bad ending and ignoring him means that yeah, you don't have to kill him but you also don't get anything else from him anymore. like he has no other endings, just either death or his big evil plans. and for a game with so many choices and so much branching, it just feels almost weird that that's all he is there for. then why do we meet him in act 1? why does he follow through to act 2? (yeah, astarion, i know, but i cant help but feel like they could have put a completely different way to read his runes there if they didnt want Raphael specifically to help us) WHY ARE WE ALREADY SO USED TO HIM BY THE TIME HE PRESENTS HIS DEAL? if the whole hammer business is the only thing he's in the game for, then we may have as well been introduced to him only in act 3 during the whole Voss quest. but we knew him already and he felt like some sort of a.. friend lets call it? idk. this just does not make sense to me and makes me genuinely so sad.

as i'm writing this, it's the third day after ive completed the house of hope and i literally can not think about anything else. like my mind is just going on and on about this and i cant get over it!! im actually GRIEVING a fictional devil and i dont know what to do with all these.. thoughts.

so now i actually genuinely MISS THAT MF. I MISS HIM. GIVE HIM BACK. I WASN'T DONE AND NEITHER WAS HE. PLEASE PLEASE LARIAN I CAN FIX HIM—

okay i think thats it for now. idk i wrote this so chaotically i already forgot what i said and didnt say. im just. im feeling so many things. im so fucking sad and mad that this is how it ends. rest in peace hot devil man i will never forget you.

[midnight---hollow]

Ok i need to yap for a second

I love how well written and thought out the ipc is in honkai star rail. I feel in general we dont always get the best discussions about capitalism and giant corps because said giant corps are usually sponsoring or are creating them most of the time so there is usually bias. I just saw some of the boothill story lore leaks and im not gonna talk about them here cus leaks but it gave me real big appreciation for how the ipc is handled.

Im personally a real big fan of complicated situations in my fictional stories. Ever since mob psycho ive gained a new lens of trying to find sympathy and reason for any situation, keeping my own opinions and preferences while still understanding the other side. I feel star rail has done a great job at show casing the many sides of the ipc even if i for one really dont like the ipc and its my least favorite organization

(I feel i should also say this is an opinion piece and im not informed enough on the real life issues as i would like to be. I just want to yap my opinion out and express why i find joy in this and maybe even come back later with more research to make another post but with references and proof to explain why besides what i remember and like. If i do get anything wrong then please inform me cus i would like to learn more about this and plan to)

|Spoilers for basically all the ipc related things in hsr|

I started out hating them cus i just dont like capitalist corps and they just rubbed me the wrong way. When the arum alley event happen i was originally pissed at it because even though it was confirming my beliefs of “big corp bad” it felt cheap and like almost every other story told by a big corp trying to tell us big corps are bad. Yknow the “look at this obviously in the wrong guy dont be like him, look at him get his comeuppances in the end and ignore how we actually are alot more complicated and worse than this super evil and obvious example”

arum alley then did something i didnt expect. It gave nuance to the story. It started out with that obvious example yes but the next one wasnt that obvious, the next part of the event talked about how some workers feel they wont be able to sustain their lives as independent workers and feel they need to work for the big corps for a safe job and it started getting into the logistics of big corp vs independent business. Yeah we where fighting them but there where reasons and concerns and fears to be given. It wasnt just big corp bad it was “yeah big corp bad but here is why and here is also how its good” and it brings up the questions on what can be done so we dont need to rely on big corp

Topaz and her whole arc is another situation i find interesting. Topaz is a character i dont care to much about to be honest but i think she plays a good role in this whole ipc debacle. To me she feels like she represents someone who used the system because they needed to and made it work and flourished in the system. Her planet was basically unlivable and she lived in a capitalist waste that failed. In comes the ipc and they are almost what her world was but better for they offer to help and save them. All they need to do is sign their lives away to join the ipc and they did and their planet flourished because of it. Topaz herself was able to rise the ranks into being a cornerstone. I think her story shows both the light and dark of the ipc because they saved her planet but they only did it because it benefited them, if they didnt sign their lives away it is very likely topaz and everyone on her planet would have suffocated from the toxins and died. They had no choice but to join the system and its stated in game that topaz’s planet is one of the few that where able to be saved.

That’s probably what i like most about the playable ipc characters, it reminds us that these big corps arent just mustache twirling bad guys, it reminds us there are people there just trying to keep going and some of them are genuinely trying to do right and think what they are doing is right. Again topaz for example, she genuinely believes what she was doing was for the good of belabog. She saw a planet so similar to her own and i think she did what she thought was right and tried to help them (i dont think what she did was right but i can see where she comes from in thinking its right) i also think its showing that when she learned their was a way out for belabog that allowed them to not give their lives away to the ipc she gave in and stopped trying to convince them. She risked her own job security to allow them that right and because she didnt force an entire planet of innocent people who just got out of a horrible situation to sign their souls away (including the children mind you) she got demoted. Im not saying that she deserves a pat on the back for doing the bare minimum esp after she tried killing us, she is a rich, a conerstone, owns an exotic pet that she throws into battle and design her gun after, is a high member of said capitalist big corps, im just saying this is a very nuanced and interesting situation that i like to think about because there are so many thoughts and arguments

The whole belabog vs ipc thing was interesting in general for me because i think it was just such a good concept to bring forth the conversation of the goods and bads of big corps. Technically the ipc does have the right to want their century old debt repaid (ignoring the fact we later learned the robots where never used i think idk the end was confusing ngl) yet also at the same time we as people have a hard time siding with them when belabog didnt even know they where in debt because they where so isolated because of the stellaron and they just got out of the stellaron crisis and are trying to make their world habitable and yknow survive. We cant blame them for being unable to pay a humongous debt when these where the same people who stood in awe as march shower them a photo of their planet that she took while on the express. It creates a situation where yeah technically the giant corp has a right to take that money because its theirs but its still feels so cruel to make them have to cough it up right now with only a few days time. Belabog is basically forced to sign that deal because there is no way they could have payed that off they where doomed the moment topaz set foot on the planet. I remember talking to each of the people in belabog and getting their opinions on the matter and constantly having to rethink my stance because there where so many good points for why they should and so many for why they shouldnt. I can go on and on about this but this bit is already to long.

Aventurine!!! Aventurine aventurine oh where to start. Unlike topaz i actually like aventurine alot he is just such a well written character but we arent here to talk about how amazing him and the games writing is we are here to talk about the capitalist cooperation he is a cog in. Aventurine in a sense has a similar story to topaz but its more cruel and less happy. The ipc didnt save him, the ipc what going to arrest him and its thanks to his luck and a deal with the devil (or in this case a bet with a snake) that he was able to become aventurine.

I havent seen the writen stuff for him in his characters story because i dont have him but i will say from what i saw during the main story, something i question alot is what the ipc did during the avgin genocide. This might be a small tangent but the avgins said they had the support of the ipc. What happened that caused for the entire avgin civilization to be wiped out when they had the help of people with better weapons and armor and equipment. Apart of me is nihilistic enough to think the ipc didnt really care for saving the avgins and might have used the katakans attack as a way to know out the two groups that where causing them the most trouble but at the moment i dont know if theres anything supporting this theory so its just a crack theory

Aventurines spot in penacony is again interesting. Penacony is a prison planet of the ipc, that was taken over and turned into a party paradise thanks to the hamrony, family, and a stellaron. Aventurines goal was supposed to be to put penacony back in the ipcs control and to be honest i cant tell if thats his plan or not because of how crazy and confusing the story was (i loved it) but that being said it is another example how how grey ipc is. It isnt just a big bad corp there are people with lives and in avens case, people trying to gain their freedom with any risks necessary. I also think again the ipcs role in penacony is like belabog, very interesting, just for different reasons.

Penacony is based off America and in this case im assuming the ipc is their Britain. I feel like if you ask most people they would say that the ipc is the only group in penacony they hope fails (minus aventurine again i feel everyone wants aven to succeed even if we want ipc to fall) but i think the family being as grey as they are (basically a cult and also a representation of newer day amarica and its “its us or them” mentality in a way. I can make another yap ses about that lmao) adds an air of mystery and confusion on who we want to succeed since they are on two very different sides of the board so if one wins the other loses. It makes it feel like a fight of two big corps against each other and not really knowing who to support. Do you want to support the capitalist or the cult, pick your poison. We need the rest of penacony for me to go more in-depth on my opinion of ipc here and to rant but i can say its already making me question and argue both sides with what we have seen so far

That was fun for me. I havent ranted on tumblr in a long long time but hsr has been my recent hyperfixation and again boothill makes me crazy. While writing this is made me start to think about how much i wanted to talk about the hidden story of immigration i feel penacony is aso trying to tell. I think penacony is handling so many deep and interesting topics and im very excited for the next update. This has made me hyped to talk about the immigration stuff but i want to do reaserch and gain a proper strong stance besides “thats just my opinion.” I think this is an interesting topic and yapping about it made me want to do more reaserch on the topics of capitalism and big corps cus i hate them but i also think its important to know about it and understand there is more to the issue than just stingy old white rich people. I havent even gotten to jade yet. When we learn more about her imma have some words prob

Srry this was long but anyways cant wait till boothill comes out so i can get him and his light cone

[tinygarbage]

Do I Wanna Know?

part one

pairing: simon “ghost” riley x f!reader (Cheese)

word count: 4.4k

summary: december is passing and you start to wonder what you mean to your lieutenant.

warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, alcohol consumption (reader and ghost have 3 drinks), no use of y/n, reader is mentioned to have hair (no specific length), readers call name is “Cheese”, American reader, mutual pining, fluff, implication of severe anxiety, swearing, military inaccuracies, drunk soap and gaz, not really edited lol (let me know if i missed any)

au: this chapter is inspired by hozier’s cover of “do I wanna know” by the arctic monkeys 😚 i linked it in the title just in case y’all wanted to give it a listen! im thinking about one more part for this bad boy :)

༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹

    The pub is busy when you step in. Loud music and noisy chatter smacks you in the face as you shove your hands into your pockets. You feel your heart beating faster as your eyes search for the team's faces. The painfully familiar feeling of anxiety crawls through your brain as you walk through the crowded space. People are dressed in all sort of attire, a mix of casual and fancy outfits scatter across the dark pub. Party hats and sunglasses work of people heads. Cheap, plastic necklaces around peoples necks. They all chatter, drinks in their hands as they watch TV at the bar or cheer of the people on the karaoke machine. You recognize a Bon Jovi song being sung horribly by a middle aged woman. Her friends crowding the stage with their phones in hand, drunkenly recording her screeching performance.

    Your heart races and your breathing quickens as your eyes continue to dart between the overwhelming amount of people. You were already late. Dreading coming since Simon gave you the invitation during training one day. Quietly mumbling about how the guys were carrying their tradition of going to Price's favorite pub. Inviting you to come along. Which you immediately accepted. Not stopping to think about the fact that crowded pubs make your head spin and stomach flip like the worlds most dangerous amusement park.

     "Cheese!" You hear Soap's thick accent call out through the crowd. His voice immediately sending a soothing blanket over your jittery nerves.

      Your head snaps in the direction you heard it from to see your team grouped up together at a large booth in the corner. They all sit tight together. Gaz and Soap clearly having indulged in their alcohol quickly. Soap's cheeks are rosy and his faux-hawk is tossled slightly. He's wearing a dark grey hoodie with some band graphic fading on it. Next to him sits Gaz. Who's wearing his worn baseball cap backwards. A navy hoodie with a grey and blue flannel over it. His eyes droop as he seems to be searching for where soap spots you. Across from them sits Simon and Price. Price wearing his typical beanie and a flannel. He's in the process of taking off his brown leather jacket. Next to him is Simon. Wearing a black hoodie. You cant see anything but his broad frame and the hood pulled up. But you can guess he's wearing his "civilian" balaclava or a black surgical mask.

    As you approach, Soap is still waving his arm like a maniac and Simon slides out of the booth. Turning slowly to watch you approach. You don't even try to bite back a smile as you get closer. He's in his black surgical mask and a pair of dark denim. Thick leather boots on his feet. Jeans cuffed to reveal the lighter denim on the inside. Hiding the very top of his boot. His pale hand reveals itself, gesturing for you to slide into the booth. To sit right between him Price's broad frames.

     You slip right in. Sitting close to Price. Your cardigan brushes against his flannel and he looks down at you. Giving you a sweet, genuine tight-lipped smile. "Hey, Cheese." He rasps, nudging your shoulder lightly.

      You smile back in response. Glancing back over the busy pub as Simon squeezes in next to you. Both of your arms pressed against each other. "It's packed." You observe, adjusting between the two large men.

     "Well, you did show up at 22:00." Gaz chuckled.

      "How long have y'all been here?" You ask. Your American accent standing out in the pub full of Brits and Soap.

     "Y'all!" Soap repeats in a southern accent. Surprisingly nailing it despite the fact that he's completely tossed.

     The group ignores it, Gaz answers. "Soap and I got here around 19:00. Price and Ghost got here about an hour ago."

     Before you can respond to Gaz, Simon speaks up from beside you. His gaze darting from you to the glass of whiskey sitting on the table in front of him. Pale fingers fidgeting with the wrapper of a straw. The straw from Price's coke. "How come you came so late?" His voice is quiet. Only being heard by you and maybe Price.

    "Oh, I was calling my parents. And i got a little distracted."

    It wasn't a lie. Not entirely. Just withholding the full truth. Not wanting to explain the fact that you had been doing every single chore and calling every single family member instead of getting ready to meet them at the pub. So you just wear a baggy, knitted cardigan over a grey cami. The lavender color of your cardigan and it's marble white buttons standing out amongst the men you were with. Who were wearing rather dull colors. A pair of light wash jeans on your bottom half and your trusty converse. The pair you've had since senior year. The fraying canvas and scuffed soles giving them character. And a sense of nostalgia. A birthday gift from your older brother. Who saved up all of his tips that he got working as a barista while attending college.

You shift awkwardly under his intense stare, waiting for any sort of response from him. Nothing comes. Instead, Soap leans over the table and speaks loudly. His accent thicker with the more he drinks, "Gaz and I have bets going on some pool games, you want to join?"

"I'll pass, I'm not very good at pool." You chuckle, speaking up so they could hear you over the crowded bar.

"That's better for us, means you'll lose!" Gaz chimes in, leaning against Soap.

"Maybe next time. What are you getting anyways?"

"Loser sings karaoke. Winner chooses which song." Soap answers with a drunken giggle, Gaz joking in. You've never seen either of them this drunk before.

"You're going to force an entire bar full of people to listen to your awful singing?" You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

"Cant be as bad as the Cougar screaming on stage." Gaz nudges Soap as they laugh loudly. God, they were obliterated already.

Time passes and eventually Price has moved to the bar, leaving you and Simon to watch as Soap and Gaz play pool together. You cant tell who's winning, so Simon updates you with each play. You now had a vodka cranberry sitting in front of you. After Price begged you to let loose for once and stop being a "block of cheddar." Whatever that meant. But when he said it was on Shepherd, you couldn't refuse ordering a few drinks on the dreadful man's pocket. Price giving a big belly laugh as you make a remark about Shepherd's bald head.

With the drink and Simon's calming presence, you feel your anxiety starting to rinse away. A second drink comes and you and Simon are still pressed together despite having more room in the booth now that Price disappeared. The two of you watching Soap lose brutally in a game of pool. Most likely due to the fact that he can't even stand straight. You watch as him and Gaz stumble to the karaoke machine, which is vacant now that people are more focused on midnight approaching. Typing in the song Gaz had chosen as the pair giggle and try to read the screen. Their vision most likely blurred and spinning. The song starts playing once everything is set up, the microphone in Soap's hand as he leans on Gaz for support. Probably needing a glass of water more than a song. You cant help but giggle as Come on Eileen starts playing. Typical karaoke song.

You're still sat in the booth with Simon, watching as Soap curls his arm around Gaz. His singing getting louder and increasingly incoherent as he attempted to read the words on the screen. His accent thick with each word. You wish your hearing was non existent as you watch the shit show in front of you. Simon sitting silently at your side.

"We're going to have to roll that man out," You say with a grin. Soap's an idiot but he's the team's idiot.

"I say we leave him to Price." Ghost replies, glancing at you while you take a chug of your drink.

You glance over to Price, who has his arm loosely around a blonde. A charismatic smile as he leans against the bar, the pint of dark beer half empty and her flashy margarita with nothing but the salt around the rim and the flimsy umbrella laying. It's place as a decoration looking rather sad in the empty glass.

"It seems like Price is on his own mission," you say with a raised brow.

"At least the old man is getting out there," he grumbles. You watch subtly as he lifts his mask to finish off his whiskey. Catching a glimpse of a scar down his pink lips. The sight bringing a familiar pool of heat to your stomach. Your ribs squeezing from the desire building.

You swallow your alcohol infused thoughts, turning back to your drink when you notice his brown eyes shifting under your gaze. You weren't being nearly as subtle as you thought. He had felt the tension build between the two of you the moment your eyes landed on his lips. Clearing your throat you speak up, "Yeah, he's been getting irritable lately. Maybe some stress relief outta do him some good."

You hear a small huff of laughter next to you, watching as his shoulders shook slightly under his black hoodie. A small smile creeps on your lips. Not able to hide the giddiness you feel every time you manage to break his shell. Even if it was something as subtle as a huff of laughter or a sheepish expression.

"Can't remember the last time I've seen the poor bastard do anything for himself." He responds, a hint of a smile in his voice. It was light, airy. But it was everything to you. A moment worth a mental picture in your brain.

"Good for him," you conclude with a proud nod. Watching as the blonde places a hand on Price's bicep. Which looked like it was screaming to be let out of the flannel he wore.

Your eyes flick back to Simon, admiring the curve of his nose. The very top of it peaking out from the surgical mask. The mere sight of him drowns out Soap's awful singing. Drawing you in and letting your mind wander to all the places you wanted the talk, blonde man to take you. You couldn't help but imagine how his nose would feel against your skin. His breath fanning on the open landscape as his lips trace every inch of you. Breathing you in with each peck. You imagine how it's feel as he leaves a trail of kisses down your stomach. Or pressed against your sensitive bud as he buries his face in your dripping cunt. Jesus, Cheese. Slow down.

With that last thought in mind, you stare down at your drink. It's your third. And probably your last. Given the fact that midnight was approaching minute by minute and you needed to be sober to try and get Gaz and Soap out. Simon was on his fourth and final glass as well. Announcing he was cutting himself off before he would have to endure a nasty hangover the next morning. Soap was finished singing, gesturing to you and Simon that they were going for one more round. A round that would probably tie them over to midnight.

And it did. Leaving you and Simon to drag him and Gaz out of the bar and to the Uber you had ordered. Price having left swiftly after midnight with the blonde he was chatting up. Her dragging him out as they laughed like a couple of teenagers. Price giving you and Simon a smug smile and a wink as he passed. You waving goodbye and Simon glaring at him. Pissed at the fact you two were left to taking care of the drunken babies screaming in the karaoke machine. Especially when Soap turned into a runner after 3 pints.

You and Simon wrangle the drunken toddlers into the Escalade. Gaz sobering up quick once you had buckled him in and gave him a bottle of water that the bartenders were handing out. On the other hand, Soap was being a straight menace. Making Simon's life ten times more difficult than it needed to be. Acting like a toddler in the middle of a bloody, screaming tantrum. Trying to slip out if Simon's tight grasp to take off through the streets. You and Simon having to resort to scaring him into sitting still in the Uber. Leaving you in the middle of him and Gaz, holding onto Soap's hand as he babbles. His thick, slurring accent completely impossible to understand. He even asks you a question. One that Ghost has to translate for you.

     "Why do they call ye Cheese?" He slurs, head turning to look at you.

      "Grew up on a dairy farm in Wisconsin." You explain with a shrug. You had gotten used to people asking by now. But internally you were certain you had told him already.

       "Oh," he pauses, his lips pressed into a small pout as he thought more about it. "Well, that's silly."

       "Your name is Soap. What if I think that's stupid?" You say flatly, watching his pout grow.

Eventually, you're back to base. Gaz walking up on his own, but you stay next to him. Ready to catch him if he takes the wrong step or needs to puke. Simon practically carrying Soap behind him. Who's now singing old Scottish folk songs while Simon grumbles profanities. Your favorite being a threat to make him sleep in the bushes. Which causes infectious laughter from the Scot. Which you are quick to quiet as there's other people on base.

Once you're in the confines of your groups own little sector. You and Simon get Gaz into the respective rooms. Propping them on their sides in case there were any accidents. Leaving a water bottle and a couple tablets of Advil for their heads in the morning. Simon was partial to dumping them and heading to bed. But you made sure they were out of their jackets, in their beds, converse with blankets, and had water for the morning.

Soon, you find yourself in Simon’s room. Listening to him grumble endlessly about the behavior from the other three men you live with. You watch in the corner as he lazily unties his leather boots. Body hunched over completely as he sits at the edge of the bed. Kicking them off with a bit of a tipsy struggle. Letting them plop at the end of his bed with a large thunk!

Awkwardly, you shift in your place by the door. He had invited you to come in. But this side of him was so foreign to you that it still felt wrong. Like you were in forbidden territory. But you bury the anxiety. Reminding yourself that the flipping of your stomach could be blamed on the three mixed drinks you had indulged in.

He’s sat up now, stretching his back. A loud crack sounding through the room as his spine arches like a cat. You watch as his hand reaches for his surgical mask. You don’t think twice of the motion. You’re occupied with a fuzzy brain. Crossing the room with a shy stride, blinking a few times as your vision adjust to the dim lighting in his dorm. Your eyes flicking back up to catch his movements. And it isn’t until the mask is pulled completely off that you realize what is happening.

“Simon?” You ask quickly.

His eyes snap to you, head turning towards you ever so slightly. Revealing the rest of his face to you. And god, he’s fucking gorgeous. The curved bridge of his nose that you always noticed is paired with a straight, and narrow length. Slightly tipped downwards. The pale scar you noticed earlier seeming to glow in the dim lighting. Crossing through his pale pink lips. His jawline strong and the shape of his face a little longer than you’d ever noticed when he was wearing the mask.

“You take that thing off?” You ask without thinking. Voice laced in disbelief and shock.

He lets out a huff of laughter. A small, boyish grin tugging at his lip. “Of course I do.”

You stare at him for a moment longer, taking in his strong, prominent features. Trying to drink in every centimeter to engrave in the back of your brain. “Why are you taking it off now? I thought you were hell bent on hiding your face.” You question, frowning slightly.

“You’re the only one who hasn’t seen my face.” He says bluntly.

“What? That’s no fair!”

“Perfectly fair.” He responds. You find yourself speechless. Now you got to put a face to the snappy, dry comments he had an endless supply of. Seeing the full expression of his face when he’s giving an unimpressed stare. You adore it.

“Why haven’t I seen it?” You ask, faking offense with a dramatic gasp.

“Because you’re insufferable.” He answers dryly. But the crooked smile on his lips give his intentions away. You grin, moving your body from its place on the edge of the bed with him. Leaving over to snatch the balaclava that rests on the nightstand where he had tossed the surgical mask. His “civilian” balaclava. The one with the skull print. “What are you doing?”

“Trying it on.” You giggle.

“Don’t touch it.” He says sharply, moving to reach for it.

Your reflexes are heightened. Holding his mask out to the side with a giggle, trying to push his massive body back. But he's too big and overpowering. Not to mention the three drinks you had were still buzzing through your system. He grabs your hand on his chest, pulling you into him as the other arm snatches the skull mask. He tosses it to his nightstand before using both hands to pick you up from the edge and throw you down gently on the middle of  his bed. The wooden bed frame creaking with age. "You're a brat," he says in deep voice. His dark, playful glare making your heart spike as you're pressed against the mattress.

      "Am not!" You argue, laughing as you realize he's about to tickle you. Picking up the lower half of your body as he inserts his larger frame between your denim covered legs. You wonder if it's third grade again as his hands move from holding you down to your sides.

    He then laughs and tickles your ribs, causing you to gasp out into a fit of giggles. Your hands shooting up to his wrists to stop him as you try and speak through the laughter erupting from your chest. He laughs mischievously. His hand moving down to your stomach and up your sides again. The action making you laugh even harder while begging him to stop. Words broken and squealed as you giggle. He finally stops the tickling but he keeps his hands on your sides, looking at you with a crooked grin on his face.

    You try not to dwell on the fact that you've never seen him smile before. And have never ever imagined it would look this good. Or boyish. This felt completely out of character. And it was. All you could think to do was blame it on the glasses of whiskey he had downed just before midnight. But that wouldn't stop you from memorizing each inch of his face without the mask on. Taking in the sight of his blonde lashes that are just a little bit lighter than his thick eyebrows. Or the scar running down his cheek to his jaw. The line dark and uneven, a contrast to his pale skin.  The other scar just below his nose and through the pale pink lips that spread thin with his smile. He was everything.

    The veins in his pale hand popping against your hips as he keeps your ass in place on this thick thighs. "You are and you know it." He finally says, a bit breathless from laughing at you.

    "You're so mean." You say breathlessly, giving him a playful pout.

    "I know, that's why you love me...right?" He asks you, with that charming smile and a smug voice to match. His hands on your sides, leaning down towards your face.

    You just giggle again, nodding slightly as you admire how he looks above you. Your breathing starts to calm as you two sit in the warming silence between each other. Your back is against his sheets, hair spread on his pillow. He's sitting between your legs. Your thighs pressed over his hips as his large body leans over you. As your giggling ceases, you notice him getting closer and closer. Your heart beats faster as his face leans a couple inches forward. Stopping for a second to look over your features. His breath was warm. The scent of a heavy mint mixed with a bit of whiskey. The slow exhales fanning your jaw slightly as his eyes flicker to your lips. His hands on your sides started to get lower the closer he got. Thumbs digging into your hips lightly. Like he was trying to imagine how your flesh would feel gripped beneath his bony fingers.

     Suddenly, you realize what's happening. It hits you like a train coming full speed ahead. You feel your heart lurch as a fire erupts through your hips. His thumbs brush over the skin that is exposed. The cardigan you're wearing rides up to reveal more of your skin peeking between its hem and your jeans. Wires in your brain start to connect when you realize the severity of your situation and your rising feelings. This was Ghost. Simon fucking Riley. These thoughts weren't allowed. These feelings are forbidden. This isn't real. This isn't him.

    You sit up, scooting back as you come to your senses."I...I should probably get back to my room." You clear your throat. Trying to even your breathing.

    He moves back, sitting up completely as your close proximity starts to sink in to his senses. You hear him swallow slightly, shifting back more to allow you to move. Sitting up, you shift towards the edge of the bed. Your feet dangle as you try and calm down the screaming arousal pumping through your veins. As you sit there, you wonder what thoughts run through his brain. Was this all good fun? Was this something he wanted or thought about? Were you something he thought about?

    "Right," his voice deepens and his dark eyes run cold, "you should probably go."

Fuckin' hell. The tension in the room grows thick. It's painfully obvious the affects of the alcohol have taken over their senses. Creating a false perception of each other in a close proximity. You internally calm yourself. Reminding yourself that you're human and a very large, brutally attractive man was hovering over you just second ago. Of course you'd be turned on. But he's your lieutenant. The second in command. The man who'd take over if Price left or retired. Your superior.

"Right." You repeat. Your voice just above a whisper.

    Another consequence of drinking rears it's ugly head when you feel tears start to burn at the corners of your eyes. Why were you so upset? You scold yourself, repeating the fact that you were the one to stop things from progressing. And he's your superior. Not like it should happen anyways.

    But your scolding only goes so far. Instead, a dark shadow of guilt and shame starts to crawl over your skin. You pull your cardigan tighter against yourself as you stand up from his bunk. Your converse tapping on the floor as you start to step away. Glancing at the way her shifts to sit on the bed. Long, large legs planted on the floor. His pale, striking face observing you.

    This type of look wasn't different from the look he always gave you. But this time, you could see his entire face. You can see his thick brow knitting together as his dark eyes scan over you. His eyes stained with dark circles. You could see all of the flaws he so desperately wanted to hide from everyone. But you. The face he allowed you to see. The one with a crooked smile. The sheepish smile that he'd try to bite back. Or the way his nose was a little crooked at the end. And it scrunched up when he lets out a boisterous laugh.

    But all you see is the dark wall that began to rebuild itself. The glaring eyes and the shadow from his thick brow. The rest of his face void of expression as the hand on his leg squeezes his thumb a few times. A nervous tic you had noticed. Something he does when he has so much more to say. When he has an overwhelming amount of feelings bubbling up in his throat. Threatening to spill out like when a toddler spills their milk. Accidental. Inevitable. 

    Slowly, you make your move. Spinning around and walking towards the door with your arms wrapped around your torso. Feeling the overwhelming urge to crawl into yourself like a little shell. Hiding from the reality of you being completely enamored by him. Hiding from all of the pining you shamelessly embraced. Shielding yourself from the fact that you want him to pull you back into his bed. Knowing that if he did, it would ruin this. All of the effort you made to get this close to him knocked over like Jenga blocks. Leaving him to be nothing but a stranger. This is for the better. You know it's for the better.

    A choked breath stops you in your tracks. Your footsteps halt and you turn your head over you shoulder. His large frame still sat on the bed with hunched shoulders. His voice monotonous, speaking out your name into the dimmed room. "Happy New Year."

    Your words come out fragile, on the verge of tears. "Happy New Year, Simon."

༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹

moot tags: @annasinterests @pertinentpostmortem

[heartbreakgrill]

Delicate: Vessel (Sleep Token); Pt. 5, "Is it cool that I said all that?"

A week passed, just like that. We had flown to Germany at the beginning of the next week, where we’d be for just fourteen days before we’d move onto France. 

Oliver and I didn’t have many chances to see one another. We were always on different wavelengths. Him, with rehearsals, vocal rests, writing sessions. Me, with the delicacies of travel. The only times we really saw each other were during breakfast or dinner, two places he’d been making a point to show up to. No one really noticed his newfound presence- no one but me, considering it seemed to previously be a way for him to spite my very existence.

His first appearance happened the very next morning after our conversation on the bus. After he kissed me like he was going off to battle, we rode the elevator up our floor, departed at my door, and just an hour later, he ended up texting me goodnight. That message alone was enough to have my heart beating crazily. 

The next morning, I was still feeling that aftershock while sitting at the breakfast table, talking to Ronnie about her brother’s baby. The elevator doors dinged, opening up like the literal gates of heaven. I barely paid any mind because everyone who normally came to breakfast was already seated at our table. But, I did spare a glance and caught sight of his dark figure, slinking towards us. I gave a second look, stumbling over whatever it was I had been saying to Ronnie. I covered up my stutter by clearing my throat, but she didn’t really notice, nor did she seem to care. Oliver sat at the end of the table, greeting everyone with his same simple nod. My heart was going again. 

I tried not to stare, tried not to even look at him for fear of melting on the spot, even when I felt his eyes burning into my face. I was blushing, bright red. My knee shook, nervously, under the table as I brushed my hair from my cheeks, behind my ears. I caught his eye from the corner of my own and he smiled, ever so slightly. 

I was done for, I knew it. 

It became a delight to see him at these meals, even if we never got the chance to speak to each other; even if, afterwards, he’d shoot back upstairs to his room. That was always my favorite part, when he disappeared from the table because, shortly after, he’d text me. 

Something like:

Oliver: your hair looked pretty today. 

Daisy: you looked alright 🤷

Oliver: wooooooow

I compliment you and this is how you treat me

Daisy: oh im so super sorry

Oliver, you are so handsome and gorgeous and amazing and awesome

Better?

Oliver: sure, sure 

That’s where most of our conversation took place, over text, especially that first week that whatever this was began to take place.

He’d text me good morning and good night, nearly every single day. He’d ask how my day was, ask me what sort of plans I had. I kept waiting for this question to evolve into another one, something like, “Wanna hang out later?” I’d settle for a damn booty call, if that’s what he wanted. I tried not to get frustrated when that first week drug on, knowing he was insanely busy. I couldn’t expect him to drop everything else and prioritize me. But, a small part of me hoped he would. 

I just wanted a little bit more of his attention. 

Luckily, I- eventually- got it.

We were in Germany for the next week. We flew out from Italy that Sunday, settled into our hotel in the early afternoon. I hadn’t planned anything for that Monday, hoping to just rest a bit, leisure across the city, maybe. I knew, too, that the band was off that day. Maybe a small part of me was making sure I was available in case he wanted to grace me with his presence. I wouldn’t admit it, though, because it just wasn’t healthy. 

But, my hopes amounted to something. 

At first, things seemed to regress. There were no messages from him on my phone. 

I thought about texting him first, but I felt strange doing so, like he’d be annoyed if I reached out instead. I then tried to ignore the sinking feeling that this put in my chest. Maybe he was done with me. Maybe he realized that this wasn’t ever going anywhere, especially considering we hadn’t so much as had an in-person conversation in a week. Luckily, I hadn’t slept with him. 

My mind began racing too much, so I pulled myself out of bed and started getting ready for the day. Sam was already gone. He told me yesterday that he, Cy, Adam, and Ronnie had made plans to go do something. He offered me to come with, but I really wanted to just laze about. There was an infinity pool and today was going to be one of the warmest days of the summer for this country. Soaking up the sun seemed like a good way to truly relax. 

So, I put on a bathing suit, slipped a sundress overtop, and rubbed sunscreen all over myself. I wasn’t about to battle a sunburn on top of jet lag. Then, I packed my purse with my water bottle, my latest book, headphones, and my wallet. Just as I went to grab my phone, sling my towel over my shoulder, head out, a knock came from the door. 

I turned to the sound with furrowed brows. Housekeeping wasn’t supposed to come until we told them to. And, as far as I knew, we hadn’t scheduled a cleaning. 

“Who is it?” I called out, stepping towards the door. 

“It’s me,” a low voice responded, hushed in volume. 

A thrilling excitement suddenly rushed through my veins. I tried not to rush over to the door and instead, forced myself to take slow steps. I set a hand on the handle, already feeling a shake in my bones. Just being this close to him pulled some sort of chemical reaction out of me. 

The door opened and Oliver turned his head straight, to really look at me. He had been checking over his shoulder, paranoid about any passerbyers. As soon as he saw me, he grinned, wide. Then, he didn’t hesitate to shove me back into the room, his hands on my hips, his lips grasping for mine. He threw the door shut behind him. 

It took me a second to find my footing. But, when I did, I became desperate, hungry. I tugged at the front of his hoodie in an attempt to get him as close to me as physically possible. Oliver ran a hand up my hip, across the front of my body, between my breasts, up around my neck. His fingers were slotted just beneath either side of my jaw. He pressed down, ever so slightly, to ensure my mouth stayed on his. 

As he kissed me, I could tell he was basically starved. This was even more evident when he nipped my bottom lip, drawing just the thinnest drop of blood. I moaned, involuntarily, at the feeling of his teeth pulling at my skin, though it was only for a millisecond. 

Oliver reared his head back, looking down at me with furrowed brows. He processed what had just happened, assisted by the size of my pupils and the way my lips sat, open, waiting for him to come back. A smirk twisted onto his lips, “Oh, darling…”

He pulled me back in, running his tongue across my bottom lip to clear the blood. My knees were weak. Luckily, he moved, so that he was sitting on the bed and tugged me down into his lap again. He didn’t hesitate to grab my ass, grip on my throat tightening a bit. He moved his lips to my cheek as his movements became painfully slow. 

“You’re so pretty, Daisy,” he whispered against the apple of my cheek. I felt his eyelids flutter across my skin as he moved away from my lips. I nearly shivered at the goosebumps, a stark contrast to the heat pooling all over my body. 

He moved his other hand to my neck, too, brushing the hair down over the back of my shoulder. In doing so, he placed his hand back where it had been. Then, his lips made their way to my bare skin, right where my neck curved into my shoulder. His sweet, soft kisses suddenly turned into small nips, his teeth tugging at my skin. 

I squeaked at the first one, but, then, as he carried on down my neck, I found pleasure in the nipping pain. I gripped at his shoulders, a hand moving to his hair, as my desperation took over my body. I couldn’t sit still anymore. I ground my hips down into his, eliciting a huffed breath from Oliver. I wanted to grin at the power I knew I had over him, but I really just wanted to stay as I was- putty in his hands. I didn’t want any control. I was his to use, his to manipulate. I would do whatever.

But, I did find a little bit of a rhythm in my hips, if only because I needed the friction. I was motivated when I knew it was making him feel good, too. As I did so, Oliver’s lips came to my skin again. They caressed the edge of my earlobe, where I could hear his sweet breathlessness. 

“Daisy,” he whispered, nearly moaning my name into my ear.  

I shuddered a sharp, audible breath at the sound of this. I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed him- everywhere. The anticipation, all of these long weeks- even just this one- it was killing me. 

I pressed my forehead against the side of his head, whispering my own words into his ear, “Oliver, please!”

He finally listened. His hand found the bottom hem of my sundress and he quickly tore it from my head. It landed somewhere across the room. Eyes still dropped shut, I went blindly for his hoodie. But, Oliver caught my hands in his, stretching my arms out on either side of us. 

I opened my eyes curiously, brows furrowed. His gaze was dragging itself down my swimsuit-clad body, a sly grin on his lips. I blushed at the look on his face and wanted to pull my arms back around myself. But, he held me open. He kept admiring. 

“Daisy, darling,” he rolled his eyes back up, over my chest, until he met my stare. A wider grin stretched across his face. “Daisy…you are gorgeous.”

I scrunched up my nose and looked down at our laps. He dropped our hands and took my face in his hold, pulling my eyes back to his. “Don’t do that. We’re not gonna do that, okay? Even if you have to pretend, I won’t let you be ashamed of yourself when we do this, okay? You are…so fucking beautiful.”

I took a deep breath as the sincerity of his words sunk into my skin. I nodded slightly. 

Oliver eyed my lips and slowly leaned back into me. This kiss was different. The hunger, the ferocity, slowed. It was almost…loving, gentle. But, then, I moved my hands back to his hair, tugged slightly, and he went back to ravishing me. 

I helped Oliver shed his hoodie. Then, I had my turn, admiring his toned chest, scarce of any dark makeup. I didn’t have to say anything to him. I knew that he could read all of my thoughts through my eyes. 

What I wanted to say, but couldn’t quite find the words to, was that he was something out of a Greek myth, something untouchable. Something that would never be real. 

I drug my fingers down his chest as he kissed me again. I undid his belt. When I tugged at his jeans, I found my footing on the floor, moving off of him, so he could stand to pull the pants down. His hands were back on my body in an instant. Though he began to tug me back on his lap, I had my own plans. Just as I began to crouch down to his knees, Oliver opened his mouth to protest, but-

A knock sounded from the door, followed by a taunting, “Daisy…”

Shit. 

Max. 

My spine straightened so fast, I thought it would snap in half. Mine and Oliver’s head whipped towards the door, my own gaze widened with utter shock. Oliver formed a fist with his hand, punching the palm of his other in slow defeat. 

He looked back to me, fear in his pupils, “What the fuck?” 

I shrugged defensively, bewildered. I went to whisper back when Max spoke again. “Daisyyyyyy, darling- I know you’re awake. Was wondering if you wanted to hang today, since we’re both free. Cmon, open up-“ he rapped his knuckles against the door again. 

Everything occurred in a desperate haste: Oliver rounded up his clothes, arms stuffed full of them, within five seconds flat. I tracked down his shoes as he did so. Then, I nearly pushed him onto the floor of the bathroom. He stumbled on his feet, barely catching himself on the counter. As the door fell shut, he shot me a panicked, worrisome expression that I could only scrunch my face up at. I didn’t know what he wanted me to do, but he was acting like someone was here to murder him. 

I went to the door, sweating a bit, and lay a shaky hand upon the knob. Then, I realized I was half-naked and rushed to pull my dress back on. Before he could knock again, I let Max in, hoping I looked anything but suspicious. 

As soon as he came into view, Max was elbowing his way inside. He held a tray with two drinks and a small brown pouch that wafted a delicious smell past me. 

He carried an energy that was far too excited for my current nervous stature. “Good morning, darling! Sleep well? I sure did. What are your plans for the day? I’m thinking we lounge out by the pool for a few hours, maybe catch a late lunch, then hit the town? Drop by a few bars? Maybe we can round up the rest of the group, force Oliver out of his self-inflicted prison, have some fun? Yeah?” 

As he spoke, Max moved around the room, unloading one of the drinks into my hands, picking out a few napkins, presenting a pastry on the small desk in the corner, seating himself onto the bed all casually with a leg crossed over the other. When he finished, he took a slow sip of his coffee, brows raised expectantly 

I toyed with the lid on my drink, eyes darting nervously towards the bathroom. I knew it wasn’t true, but I almost felt like I could hear Oliver’s breathing. Smell his cologne. I worried Max would, too. 

Everything would be over. 

“Um-“ I cleared my throat. Then, I tried to relax my shoulders and approach Max with a friendly smile. “Yeah! Yeah, that could be fun. I was planning on going down to the pool anyway.”

“Wonderful, darling,” Max approved, “Well, why don’t you go ahead and finish getting ready and we’ll get going.” 

I looked around me, trying to remember where I had left off this morning, when Oliver had barged in and interrupted my routine. 

“I just need to grab my stuff, actually. I was heading out the door before O-“ I cut myself off from my explanation, lips pinched together in a way that I could only assume looked quite guilty. I swallowed thickly, ashamedly glancing towards the bathroom again. I tried to save myself, “before you started knocking, ha! What a coincidence!”

“Coincidence…” Max followed my glancing gaze. I snapped my eyes back forward, and he met me there. The edges of his pupils seemed to squint, like he was reading between the lines, but he didn’t say anything else. “Well! To the pool we go!”

We were in the clear…for now. 

-

Oliver: i am so fucking sorry 

Hes a prick

So fucking daft

God

I love him 

But what a bloody idiot

Daisy: LMFAO

I dont even know what to say 

I feel bad for you!!

Theres gonna be a witch hunt for you if anyone ever figures it out

Oliver: god dont remind me

Youre so worth it though

We spent hours poolside, like two beached whales, glistening with sweet sweat on our shoulders and sunscreen in our skin. I dipped into the water infrequently, if only to cool myself down, but spent most of my time finishing up a book (texting Oliver between its pages). I cursed Max for his lightly tinted shades, praying to whatever God above that he wasn’t side-eyeing me, that he couldn't see my illicit grins, my quick thumbs. 

I tried to get Oliver to come hang out with us. If I couldn't have him to myself, I’d take small doses of him with others. But, as vampiric as he was, laying by the pool was just not something he wanted to do. Besides, in his own words:

Oliver: I just wouldn't be able to be so close to you without doing something

Especially with you in that little bit of cloth you call a swimsuit 

I should be a dick and make you squirm

Make you think about me while you’re all peaceful by the pool

Make you think about my hands

My teeth

Daisy: Oliver…

Asshole

Oliver: sorry, darling

But after that incident with the cake?

And that bathing suit

Yeah i think it's my turn

(1 attached photo)

The heat outside was nothing compared to what I felt in my chest. I ensured my jaw was shut tightly, unwilling to let the saliva pooled in my mouth dribble down my chin. Then, I scrounged through my photo albums, cursing myself for having deleted my most intimate photos. Instead, I had to just stare (drool) at the one he’d sent- his hand, his bare stomach, the very edges of his pitch black boxers. 

I would never lose this game- I just couldn't. But, in this moment, I was! While I liked being submissive in the end, I enjoyed being the one doing the teasing. That slight upper hand I got from it gave me a headrush. I was, I guess…bratty. 

So, I watched Max carefully from the corner of my vision, thankful for my tiny bathing suit. I could make do- if he’d just leave. He was reading his own novel, hunched over a little bit. It had been a while since he’d gone to the bathroom or really even moved. He had to eventually.

My wishing on invisible stars worked because Max excused himself to the bathroom. He first paused to ensure I was doing okay. I thanked him for his concern with an urgent smile, quick nod of my head. And then he was gone. 

Daisy: I really don’t get what all this fuss is about. I think this suit covers me up just fine, don’t ya think?

(1 attached photo)

Oliver: behave, miss thing

You have no idea what’s waiting for you

Daisy: sure, sure

Needless to say, Oliver put me on the very edge of my seat all day. I only had the one photo that was taken in the heat of the moment. He had…an empty hotel room and an imagination like any other. He never let me see past those stupid boxers though, holding out on me to only intensify that anticipation. 

As was Max’s plan, we grabbed a late lunch. I had hoped we’d change beforehand, but he was so hungry, we had to rush out of the hotel. And, as per usual with Max, he took his good old time eating, strolling leisurely, dropping by every single shop that caught his eye. Don’t get me wrong- it was a lot of fun. I was grateful to have some one-on-one time with him. 

But, I knew what- who was waiting for me back at the hotel. So, I was a little distracted.

Eventually, the day was coming to a close. No one really wanted to go out drinking because the band had rehearsals early in the morning. Instead, we were all going to meet up for a light dinner in the hotel bar. 

I tried to escape Max as soon as we entered the hotel, but he insisted on walking me to my room. Meanwhile, Oliver was shooting me a dozen messages- he was in his room, he didn’t have a shirt on, and he was waiting for even the shortest possible breath that he could take at my lips. 

Max stood outside my door, yapping about some shop lady who had made a joke to us earlier. He kept laughing, kept going over the punchline. It was funny, sure, but I was literally trying to close the door between us, a forced smile aching on my cheeks.  We had to be at dinner in just half an hour and I needed to shower. I would sacrifice all that time for Oliver, but I was sure I smelled of sunscreen and sweat. I needed to rush under the hot water, and then rush into his arms. 

“Ha! Can you imagine? What kind of-” Max kept going. 

I faked another laugh, positive that one of my eyelids was winking shut, visibly displaying the max level of insanity that I felt right now. I took another step back into my room, preparing to bid farewell.

Luckily, Max caught sight of the time. “Holy shit, Daz,” he looked up from his watch, “it’s so late! Sorry to cut our wonderful day short, but we better hit the showers before everyone wonders where we’re at.”

“Ah! Good idea!” I bumped the heel of my hand against my head, shock on my face. Then, I pushed up onto my tiptoes to give him a short kiss to the cheek, “Thank you for today. I really just had the best time ever! Love you, Max!”

Then, as he began to respond, “Aw, darling, me, too! I love you-” I shut the door on him, “Oh- yep! I’ll see you in a bit!”

The speed at which I moved through that hotel room was sure to rip the carpet up off of the floor. I kicked off my sandals, sending one right into the window. It made a loud clanking noise, which I flinched at, before landing on Sam’s bed. But then I was already moving onto my sundress, tearing it off, ripping my swimsuit down my legs, over my head. Once those were off, I jumped in the shower, grateful that I didn’t need to wash my hair so I could do a quick rinse. 

I was back out of the shower as quickly as I’d gotten in, doing my hair up into a claw clip, pulling on an outfit that didn’t require much thought, but was still concise enough to be cute. I barely had my phone and purse in hand before I was shooting across the hall, like a chicken crossing the road. 

Oliver opened the door before I could even take a breath, tugging me in by my hips. 

He had my back pressed up against the door, one of his spare hands already holding the base of my throat like a goddamn rosary. His dark eyes stared down at me, hungry, like he was about to consume every inch of my flesh. I went to say something, brows already lifted on my face in their devious position. In the process, my hands fished for him, grabbing at his shirt.

In one easy moment, Oliver grabbed both of my wrists, stretching my arms up and above my head. He squeezed my throat, ensuring my eyes were on his. My back arched from the movement, my chest pushing through the air as a small whine escaped my lips subconsciously. 

Oliver drug his eyes down my body, smirking pleasedly at the movement he drew from my body. “We have five minutes. Shut the fuck up and be a good girl for me, yeah?”

“Okay.”

We weren’t really being realistic about how much time we would get together.

Two minutes later, Oliver was on his knees below me, his large hands bruising either one of my thighs, my hands were entangled in his hair, my underwear were somewhere far across the room, and his breath was ghosting my core. Just as he inched painfully, teasingly closer, someone was knocking on his door. 

It was my turn to hide as Adam and Cyrus ushered Oliver from his hotel room, excitedly telling him about some new song they’d just heard. After ensuring in the bathroom mirror that I didn’t look disheveled, I watched through the peephole as they neared the elevators. Oliver peered over his shoulder, the smallest of smiles on his lips. I rolled my eyes. Of course he’d find it funny- he was winning again. 

Then, when the hallway seemed clear, I quickly left his room and tried to casually make my way down to the dining room.

Oliver was trying not to laugh, I just knew it- his lips were pressed together, a humored look in his eyes as he pretended to be occupied with the potatoes he mashed around with his dinner fork. I glared at him as I approached the table. 

Then, Sam was talking to me, asking me and Max about our busy day and I had to pretend like their best friend hadn’t just been on his knees for me. 

This was killing me. 

-

Surely, I thought to myself as dinner came to a close and everyone began heading to bed, surely we would find the time. Surely our luck wasn’t that bad. We’d get some time alone- we just had to. 

So, as the elevator that Sam, Ronnie, and I caught closed, and carried us to the fifth floor, I quickly texted Oliver. I crossed my fingers behind my back, hoping, praying, wishing this would work. 

Daisy: soon as Sam goes to bed, i can be over

A heavy heat of anticipation sat right on top of my chest, shooting off butterflies in my stomach, making me breathless when I said goodnight to Ronnie.

I waited, patiently, for about an hour- no, exactly an hour and ten minutes. I waited an hour and ten minutes for Oliver to text me back. I stared at the numbers in the top middle of my phone screen as I pretended to read a book. Then, when Sam lay down and shut off all the lights, I rolled onto my side, the dim glow of my screen filling my corner of the room. My eyes glazed over numerous times while each little number morphed into the next. Slowly but painfully surely, the delightful anticipation began to dissipate. 

I really wanted to be chill, to be normal and casual and just…go to bed. Accept that maybe he had fallen asleep, maybe his phone had died. Pretend like there wasn’t a small hole sinking in my stomach. 

But, I saw him begin typing forty minutes in. 

And then he stopped. 

And I still waited another half an hour for him to respond. 

He never did.

- 

The next morning, I was able to forget about it. 

I focused on the productive conversation we’d had in the bus, the one where he set a boundary with me, where he told me he couldn’t really offer me much in terms of connection or romance. The one where I practically begged him to just have me in whatever way he could. 

And, I forced myself to stop worrying about the fact that he never responded. The world, after all, did not revolve around me. I needed to be reminded of that and have patience with him. Besides, I wasn’t going to allow myself to feel that- disappointment. Small bits of heartbreak. This meant basically nothing, right? We were just hooking up, hanging out. It wasn’t that big of a deal, like we discussed. 

I’m chill with that.  

I ate breakfast with the band, discussing with Ronnie some of the best tourist attractions that she suggested I seek out. Oliver was a little late this morning, feet dragging a bit. When I saw him round the corner to the dining room, I sat up just a bit. He seemed tired as he took a seat at the opposite end of the table, hoodie up, as per usual. He didn’t really touch any of his food, but instead nursed a cup of tea. So, I ignored the sinking feeling that came when he didn’t even look at me. 

He showed up. That’s what really mattered. 

I tried not to be distracted as Ronnie told me about some sort of monument, but it was a struggle when my concern for Oliver was as relevant as it was. There was just something off about him…and it almost felt like it had to do with us, with me. Or maybe I was just reading into things a little too much. Again. 

Everyone else finished up their breakfast before me. So, the group broke off before long, a few headed out the door to the venue, some up to their rooms to grab last minute items. I watched as Oliver straggled behind Adam and Cyrus, towards the elevators. When he first stood to follow them, I tried to meet his eye, tried to shoot him a reassuring, encouraging smile. He evaded my gaze. My shoulders dropped a little. 

When they were out of sight, I took my phone out and grappled with texting him. I felt like I should, just to see if he was okay. But, then, the part of me that knew there was nothing serious between us fought against that want. It wasn’t weird, right? If I texted him, just to see how he’s doing? 

But, then, come to think of it…he never even said good morning to me. So he probably just wanted to be left alone. I should probably just read the signs he was clearly giving and just provide him with some space. He didn’t need me up his ass at every waking moment, constantly expressing my concern for his every move. Especially not after the conversation we’d just had. 

I felt a little insecure, a little worried, going back over every interaction we’d had like I was responsible for a grown man’s feelings. I pushed aside the overthinking my brain was ruminating on and decided to just get up, to just get started with my day. 

This thing between us was not going to work out if I overanalyzed his every breath, if I let it all get to me. I needed to chill out- just be chill. Cool. 

I headed for the elevators, purse slung over my shoulder. The doors were already opened, so I stepped inside. When I faced forward, Oliver was there, following me in, my name barely a greeting off his lips. 

“Daisy…”

“Oliver, hey-”

He interrupted me, lips on mine before I could even take a breath. I was taken aback, just briefly, before getting swept up in his soft touches, his hungry mouth. My purse slid off my shoulder. Oliver’s fingers caressed my cheek, my hip, pushing into me until my back was against the wall. 

We kissed until the bell dinged, signaling that the doors were opening up to our floor. Oliver pulled back, quickly distancing himself from me. His chest heaved a little, out of breath from our encounter. His pupils were shot, wide, blown up. I furrowed my eyebrows as I carefully eyed him. I was trying to read between the lines here, but I couldn’t. 

And he was gone before I could ask for any answers from him. 

-

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, rubbing moisturizer into my freshly clean face. Taylor Swift was playing softly on my phone, a subtle soundtrack to my evening routine. It had been another long day of perusing across Europe. My feet ached from the 10 miles I’d walked,  my stomach was full from the delicious dinner I caught on the way home, and my brain was buzzing with all of the sights and sounds I’d taken in. I was going to cherish these evenings for the rest of my life. 

I had even managed to stop worrying about Oliver, had let the pitiful racing thoughts that had been taking up space in my mind fall away. I was going to be cool about it. I was going to be the chill, casual girl. 

What we had, what we were doing, was just hooking up. We hadn’t explicitly agreed on keeping any strings to ourselves, but Oliver had told me he couldn’t really offer any in the first place. And that was okay! It’s not like I needed to be in a relationship anyways. I was going back to school in the fall and I’d probably, honestly, never even see him again after this summer. 

Casually hooking up with someone would probably be good for my development, anyways. It would teach me to become more comfortable with my body, to be more patient, to be more understanding. To just chill the fuck out, honestly.  Yeah, I’d totally gotten rid of those racing thoughts…ha. 

Anyways, even though I wanted to text him, to see what was going on, to see if he was okay, I just wasn’t going to. I was gonna tuck myself into bed, get a goodnight’s rest, and prepare myself for another long day. Focus on me, my happiness, my health. 

My plan was going well, too. I fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.

Then, at around midnight, I woke to my phone buzzing on my nightstand. 

I lazily brought the device to my ear, murmuring some sort of greeting through half-lidded eyes. “Hello?”

“Come over.”

“What- hello? Oliver?” I sat up in bed, a little jolted by the situation. I spoke in hushed whispers, eyes on Sam’s figure to ensure that he was passed out still. 

Oliver’s voice replied in an exhausted tone, “I can’t sleep. Come over.”

I took my sweet time, not wanting to seem desperate, not wanting to be at his beck and call. I pulled a hoodie down over my torso before slipping out of the room. I guided the door shut, flinching when it clicked a little louder than expected. Once I was sure the hall was clear, I headed towards Oliver’s door.

He must have been watching from the peephole, waiting for me to arrive, because as soon as I made it, the door was open and he had his hands on me again. His touch was more desperate than ever before, fingers harsh, tongue rough. 

I could barely gasp for air as he gorged on my lips, overfeeding himself. I was growing more concerned for his mental health, considering it seemed like he was displacing whatever he was feeling onto me. I probably already knew what was going on- the stress of the tour, of making the next album, it was all getting to him. 

He barely had any time to himself anymore, barely had any chances to breathe, to execute self care. He was overworking himself. He was just exhausted. 

I felt guilty kissing him, touching him. It felt exploitive and dirty.

So, when his hands traveled down my body, up under my hoodie, to my pants, I brushed them off of me. I took a big step away from him, reaching out my own touch to keep the distance between us.

“Oliver-” I took a deep breath, trying to ground my dizzy head.

His eyes were bloodshot. He hadn’t tasted like alcohol, so I assumed he must be high. Or he had been crying. I didn’t really know which one. 

Whatever exhaustion pooled in his gaze dissipated as it was replaced with worry. He took a small step towards me, palms out in a wary manner. “I’m so sorry- what is it? Are you okay, darling? What did I do?”

My jaw was a little slack, concern drowning my features and tone. “No, no- nothing! Sorry- nothing! You’re good. We’re good. I promise.”

He breathed a sigh of relief as his shoulders slumped a bit forward. “Thank fuck. I thought I hurt you or something.”

“I mean you were being a little rough, but that’s okay,” I managed a breathy chuckle.

Oliver ran hand through his hair, glancing around the room, to his feet, back to me. “Why’d you stop, then? Everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” I emphasized, “I’m more worried about you.”

Oliver sighed, loudly, posture dropping a bit more. He wiped his face as he looked away from me again. “Why?” He sounded annoyed with me. 

“I’m not gonna pry, cause I know it’s not my business, but…”

“It’s not,” he cut me off. 

I reared my chin back. I thought carefully, choosing my words delicately, as I crossed my arms over my chest, “I know. I know it’s not my business. I just- just want-”

“What?” He spoke impatiently. 

“Just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Oliver didn’t respond. He stared at the floor beside my slippers, as though he could bore a hole with his eyes, sink into it, and slip away from this moment. I looked past his head. I didn’t want to pressure him with pervasive eye contact. 

Then, after a minute or two, I heard him sniffle. I still didn’t move too much, but ran my eyes over his face. He wiped away a few tears. Oliver bit into his bottom lip, which wobbled around a bit. He didn’t want to give into the emotions overwhelming his nervous system, but he was going to have to.

I couldn’t hold myself away from him any longer. He needed connection, touch, gentleness. So, I walked right up to him and hugged him, tugging his head down into the crook of my neck. I felt his arms squeeze my entire self into him, like an anchor at his shores, calming his seas. 

For the next twenty minutes, we stood there, my heart sitting just underneath his own, beating into one another. He didn’t really cry too much, probably unwilling to. I didn’t like to cry in front of others either. It was vulnerable, too vulnerable. 

We just hugged each other. I caressed my fingers through his hair, hoping to soothe him, to provide solace. He just squeezed me back, tight as ever. It felt really good. I wasn’t going to pull away first, but he eventually did. 

He let out one of those embarrassed laughs, wiped the tears clean off his cheeks, and moved to sit on the bed. I offered a kind smile, but still didn’t say anything. He would come to me with whatever was on his mind whenever he felt ready to. 

“Sorry…about- that. Probably, uh- probably weird.”

“Not at all,” I waved him off, moving slowly towards him. 

He looked up to me, his palms resting on the edge of the bed, and motioned for me to sit. I did. 

“I’m just…just tired,” he shrugged. 

I knew it was more than that. I knew that he harbored a lot of negative feelings towards himself, something he had confirmed for me just last week. He held himself up to a crazy standard and, of course, never met those expectations. No human being ever could. 

I wouldn’t convince him of this fact, not in just one moment together. But, I could tell him one thing that he probably needed to hear. Something he’d value and treasure for longer than just a moment. 

“I’m proud of you,” I spoke softly, turning my head to meet his eyes. 

He didn’t say anything. He just swallowed, rubbed his lips together, thought long and hard. Then, he glanced away, brought his eyes back to mine and nodded, just once. I saw the words slot themselves into his mind, stored away for just him to hold onto. I knew he valued my opinion, so even though it wouldn’t fix his issues, it would provide some support. Support was the only way to get to recovery, to healing. 

Oliver set his hand on mine, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “When I first met you, you told me you were trying to discover life this summer. To find deeper meaning. The more I get to know you, the more I disagree with that.”

“Oh?” I furrowed my brows. “And why’s that?”

“It’s just not accurate,” he shrugged, “you have so much meaning. You’re…you’re so sweet. And kind. And intentional with everything you do. You put so much goodness out with even just your gaze. I just…”

I stared up at him with, I’m sure, these big dopey eyes. Words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. “I really like you, Oliver.”

He frowned slightly as he brought a hand to my face, thumb brushing the apple of my cheek. I searched his eyes and couldn’t find the answer needed for what I had said. So, the distant smile on my face twisted upside down, worry lacing my features. Had I gone too far? 

“I know, darling,” was all he said. 

Moments of silence passed between us. 

I knew he couldn’t give me much, but maybe now that my feelings were out there, clear as day, written in the sand, maybe it would help him feel more secure about whatever this was. Maybe he’d jump in with me. After all, I was scared, too. Hell, as of this morning I wasn’t looking for a relationship. But- we could be good together. He could be good for me. I know I would be good for him. 

Maybe we could l-

“I don’t know that I communicated this to you well enough,” Oliver went on. 

“It’s okay…”

Oliver glanced away, seemingly ashamed of whatever he was gonna say. “I can’t be in a relationship with you, Daisy. I just…I’m not good. I’m not ready. I don’t want to hurt you. I think you deserve better. We’re on different paths- I have a million excuses.”

I don’t know how I managed to avoid the tears because I could feel them threatening me from behind my eyes. But, I did. I put on this facade, acted out the role. Stood, nodding slowly, painting a sweet smile on my face.

“It’s okay. I understand. I’ll just…I’m gonna leave,” I headed for the door.

But, Oliver was grabbing my hand. “I don’t want you to. I know it…it’s so selfish of me, but I want you anyways. We have two more months before you have to go home- so who says we can’t just be casual, have fun for the rest of summer? I’d…I know I can’t ask that of you, but…I’d like that.”

I would hate him for this. I would hate myself for it, too. 

But, having pieces of him was better than nothing. 

I could push aside my feelings- fuck, I was already getting good at it. 

I would be the cool girl, even if it killed me.

Even if it killed us. 

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hello how are you :3? I was wondering if you could write E.J., Hoodie, and Masky with a s/o that has a lot of scars? (Toby too but platonic for him) I’m not sure how many people we can request so if it’s too many just Hoodie? I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable and thank you!

Various!Creepypastas w/ a scarred!reader

waaaah im so sorry for not seeing this sooner! i didnt recieve a notification for this ask!! really theres no limit to how many characters you can send in! i think my personal max varies from prompt to prompt!! mix of how they approach the concept of a scarred lover (friend in tobys case) with some hints of fluff! cause of scars will be vague as admittedly i didnt know if you meant general scars or SH! side note i hope this posts right! im writing this on my computer, im used to mobile!! + apologies for any weird wording or typos, im listening to music and im getting hyped!! not proof read we die like my spiderverse brainrot

Includes: Eyeless Jack, Hoodie, Masky and Platonic!Toby!

CWs: touch and go talk of potential past trauma, body image issues, vague mentions of SH(?) in EJs part + Toby's parts

admittedly admin doesnt know if its technically SH due to the nature and motiv but personally id still count it as such and tag it as such

Eyeless Jack;

he gets it, he really does. the basic run down of my hc/take on ej is that he wasnt always some flesh eating monster; just some dude who got caught up in some bad stuff

so naturally, he doesnt... really vibe well with the concept of eating human flesh, which can lead to a few... instances. from intentionally to accidentally harming himself while hes lost in his instincts

so hes no stranger to being a little roughed up around the edges

but hes a stranger to comforting; he'll likely approach it from a logical side before trying anything else. "you've been hurt," before going on a small tangent about the formation of scars. hes not the most... emotionally... good... available... person

so youre going to need to lay out the general basis for what you need for basic comfort, on days where your scars become an issue; be is needing comfort or a distraction. it may take him a while, but hell eventually start to pick up on cues and hints as your relationship develops

otherwise hes very neutral about them, again approaching them with a blunt view; seeing it as neither good nor bad. he doesnt draw attention to them, but he doesnt act like theyre gross

really just. vibing with it, doesnt make a huge deal of it since he feels he doesnt have any place to judge, nor does he feel its his business to pry for information

solid 6/10 imo, hell comfort you if you express that you need it but hell likely not go out of his way to do it

Hoodie;

Soft touches, he almost does it before he has your permission to touch you

naturally he has his own fair share of scars from various.. activities

really im still all jumbled up with how i wanna write him and masky; not sure if i want to make them like how they are in their MH source or lean into the proxy thing that was prominent in the early days of the fandom... lowkey leaning into the proxy thing for this post because im more... versed..? in that, but anyhow

hes more upfront and compassionate than eyeless jack, in fact hes probably the most caring out of the four in todays post... maybe thats because i read one (1) fic years back that changed my entire approach to his character but! yeah

subconsciously trails his hands on them when the two of you are holding one another; something gentle and intimate, not too obnoxious to make you self conscious, but not careful enough to go unnoticed

i view hoodie, and by extension brian if i end up considering him and tim fully seperate from their 'proxy' parts, as a very tactile person

true to the popular fanon interpretation, hoodie doesnt speak much. but that only makes him a better listener, so on days where things get hard, hell let you talk his ears off with anything thats bothering you. very rarely, hell speak up and offer some words of advice, most times hell inch closer to grasp you. though it does get awkward since most the time hes just. blankly staring at you silently without emoting or saying a word

overall? personally hes a 7/10 for me, i would rank him higher if he were more verbal, but thats just because admin has an easier time venting if its a two way convo; but overall hell make sure that your scars dont effect your worth

Masky;

very similarly to hoodie, masky also has his own set of scars for the same reasons

he probably starts pointing out his own scars to you and mumbles about where they came from if he knows their origins

this doesnt mean "oh hes invalidating your experiences and hes trying to make it about himself," but more so "hes showing that he really does get it and he doesnt mean to talk over you"

much like EJ he approaches scars with a very blunt and upfront mindset, but to a lesser extent. he admits that whatever led up to the tissue forming, it hurt. emotionally and physically, and hes not going to deny that simple fact. hell listen to you, have a conversation with you about it, and try to help you through whatever you may be currently going through regardless of if youre injury is relevant.

or at least, thats what hes trying to do.

hes still has his own personal issues regarding going about his own problems in a healthy manner but hey thats something for another post; maybe, if i remember

honestly this post doesnt have enough fluff imo, and i can kinda see masky doing this, but imagine he boops his mask against your scars in a mockery of a kiss (doesnt take off his mask often, in fact youll probably never ever see him without it on), i can see jack doing this too tbh

thoughts? 8/10, gets the bonus points for being less awkward to rant to imo, plus i think asides ej, i think i have a bias for masky for the simple fact i had the fattest crush on him when i was in middle school

Toby;

okay! this one is going to be interesting for one main reason! i actually havent touched tobys character in YEARS! so hes probably going to have the shorter list... obligatory i havent built any solid hcs for him past what was going on in the fandom in the 2010s, before toby briefly became a mild discomfort... but we're back in business baby!! (^^ dont feel bad for requesting for toby btw! hes no longer a discomfort, and if i didnt want to write for him i wouldnt be including him right here!!)

obviously we cant talk about his part without talking about his cheek. and other, similar hcs. while i dont think most of the self inflicted marks on his body were from a place of.. for lack of better words, darkness; it doesnt change the fact he still has them. i think a lot of them are from the fact he cant feel anything; accidental burns, gnawing through his cheek, digging his fingers deep into himself. really i could go into detail, but due to the aforementioned fact that my take on him isnt as developed as other characters + i really dont think its appropriate for this post (or really, anywhere on this account,), ill stop there

while he cant relate to the physical pain of what caused your scars, he can sympathize through your feelings. do you feel sorrow, or anger to whoever hurt you? hell be getting worked up right with you, because to him youre one of his closest friends

i feel like he doesnt talk much about his past, regarding his family. but hed tell you, and you can sure as hell bet that hell do his absolute damndest to grant you the same feeling of security.

hell probably touch and prod without truly meaning any harm, but thats because he can have problems with boundaries, but hell listen if you sit him down and tell him it makes you uncomfortable if it does

more so emotional than outwardly... supportive? idk the words, but hes very empathetic with you and tries to relate to you through emotion rather than feeling what you felt. honestly? kinda based for that, but maybe thats because i dont see feelings about this topic being touched on, usually its straight up about how the scar makes the person look or the physical trauma they had gone through, but idk, maybe thats just a me thing

he can be an asshole at times but hell usually backtrack and cool off somewhere else if you call him out on it imo

not sure if its because as im LITERALLY investigating his characteristics and interpretations as we speak, but i think im starting to relate to him so ER-OH!

anyways, i wish i could make his segment more... in tune with the characters above but its probably going to take me a while until im comfortable with how i portray this dude, which sucks because as a kid he was probably one of my favorites

i dont think im going to give toby a rating like the others; since i dont think i can accurate rate him due to the lack of proper concrete ideas outside of him being empathetic to your emotional pain since he cant relate on how much it hurt

im gonna end this here since im starting to sound like a broken record on tobys part so!

i hope you enjoyed this! characterization may be a little off but i blame that mostly on the fact that i kinda fell out of the loop in regards for writing for these guys (that damn spider movie! the brainrot threw me off my creepypasta grind!/j) but its good to be back writing for this fandom! it was a fun little brain exercise trying to figure out each character goes about this kind of thing without making them all the same!! with that being said, im going to go listen to an audio reading of tobys story so i can regrounded in his character and hopefully do him some justice in the future!

[masterfvck]

can you write something about sanayeon? (i think its nayeons and sanas ship name but im not sure lmao) need them so bad like i can imagine nayeon being all like "im the top in the relationship" to the public but in private sana bends her over an table and fucks her <333

Yes! It's finally done after my Very long time of no motivation burnout era 💥 I hope it was worth the wait 😭

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 (𝐨𝐟 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧.)

Sanayeon (Sana + Nayeon, TWICE)

Cws: Top Sana obv, Sub Nayeon (also obv), slight begging :o, dirty talk(I tried?!), cunnilingus, fingering.

Lmk if I missed something!

Word count: 1.3k

(NSFW, minors don't interact pleek)

There’s dead silence at the table right now. Not awkward, or full of tension - just comfortable silence as all the TWICE members sat there, on their phones.

“Guys, I’m clearly the top in the relationship, right?” Nayeon very suddenly says, which made at least two of them choke on their drinks. Well, now all the looks were on her.

What a strange thing to say, out of the blue.

That was Nayeon for ya!

“Uhh. No,” Jeongyeon deadpans, which resulted in Nayeon trying to hit her. She was stopped by the others. “Hey! It’s true! You’re not a top-”

“Okay, Jeongyeon. We get it. Nayeon’s a bottom,” joins in Jihyo.

“I’m not!” 

“You are.”

“Not!”

“Are too.”

“Am NOT!!”

“A-”

Chaeyoung cuts them off before any of the two can say any more. “Shut it! She might be, she might not.”

Both Jeongyeon and Nayeon grumble.

“Well, let’s ask Sana. She’s Nayeon’s girlfriend, after all,” Momo stated, and suddenly all eyes were on Sana.

She didn’t really know what to say - not right now, at least - the pressure of all members staring expectantly at her didn’t really help. “... What?”

“Well? Nayeon’s a fucking bottom, ri-” Nayeon groans. “Shut up!” she interjected.

“I mean… Maybe.” Sana holds back a grin and leans in her seat, putting on a nonchalant cover. Only to tease Nayeon - what else? - and it seemed to work. 

“Hey!” She whined.

Chuckles were heard from pretty much everyone in the room.

“There’s still a chance, though. I feel like they could both be switches. It’s… none of my business, though. That’s all I have to say,” Tzuyu noted quietly. “The impossible is possible.”

There was a small moment of silence, and Nayeon smirked. “See? Someone agrees.”

“I never said I agreed, Unnie.”

Her smirk instantly faded. “Wha-”

“Heyy, look at the time. I’m hungry. Goodbye everyone!” Dahyun laughs nervously and scurries off before anyone can stop her. Seems like the tension was too much for her to handle second-hand. Chaeyoung decided to go after her, not saying anything else.

Sana looks around at the others. Is this a scenario where everyone just leaves suddenly, and only her and Nayeon are left? No way, that would be too pr-

“Uh.”

So maybe Sana was wrong.

--

It wasn’t long until Nayeon was bent over the table, squirming and whining underneath Sana. Yeah, the table was probably not the best place to do this, honestly. But she couldn’t resist the urge to just push her over right there and then and show her who’s really the top in this. Nayeon couldn’t resist Sana. Is anyone really surprised?

As Nayeon holds onto the table for dear life, she grinds her hips back against Sana - or Sana’s hand, in this case - and moans quietly.

Sana finds this a bit amusing.

“What happened to this whole I’m the top attitude from barely five minutes ago?” She laughed, curling her fingers at the spot Sana knew would make her arch her back like a cat.

And that was the exact reaction she got, as well. Nayeon cursed under her breath, tilting her head back.

“I didn’t-” she trails off.

“You can’t even finish your sentence properly. You couldn’t top me if you tried, admit it. Just look at how you’re grinding against me for more - you’re so desperate.” Sana’s words really didn’t help Nayeon in any way. If anything, it made her crave for even more now.

Nayeon gulped audibly, feeling her climax approaching slowly as Sana moved her fingers skillfully inside her. It was so good, almost too good. She couldn’t get enough.

And she couldn’t deny Sana, she was right. Nayeon couldn’t top her if she tried. She can barely speak right now.

“Are you close already?” Sana asked. Nayeon knew she shouldn’t have answered, but she nodded and let out soft breaths and moans.

She should have stayed still.

Because, at the words, Sana grinned and took her fingers out, ruining her approaching orgasm.

Fuck.

“N-Noooo…” Nayeon whined, head flopping back onto the table as she groaned.

Sana laughed a little at the sight.

“You’re adorable, really,” she cooed and held her waist, flipping her around. Her arms slowly guided her to sit on the table. Her wetness probably covered the table’s surface, but neither of them cared at this point. They’d just clean it after.

Sana lowered herself, kneeling on the ground and spreading Nayeon’s legs with no resistance coming from the older woman. She was even eager.

She approached her pussy painfully slowly, making Nayeon impatient.

“Please,” she whined. Sana smirked and chuckled a little at the sound. Begging now?

“Please what?” She murmured against the skin of her inner thighs.

“Please me. I-I need you.” And that was all Sana needed to hear.

She pressed a sloppy kiss to her clit first, which made Nayeon shudder and reach to hold her head. She didn’t complain - it felt somehow nice.

The kisses moved down her lips, tongue teasingly sticking out at her entrance, licking stripes up and down. She was practically turning Nayeon into a pile of mush for her. Her mind was so hazy, she felt almost dizzy. Her hand still held Sana’s head tightly and kept it against her as Sana herself held Nayeon’s thighs she loved so much. (Well, to be fair, Sana loves every part of Nayeon a lot.)

Nayeon barely mumbled out small “thank you”s as Sana worked her tongue on her, savoring the taste of her wetness. It was one sloppy mess, but at least it was a tasty sloppy mess.

The feeling of Sana’s tongue hitting her clit made Nayeon shudder even harder every time she did so. She wasn't even just eating her out at this point - she was devouring her like she's been starving for weeks. Her knees would definitely be hurting after this. She didn't care, it was worth it.

Sana’s grip on Nayeon’s thighs tightened a little and she started sucking on her clit eagerly.

“Hhngh- Ah,” Nayeon moaned out loud, feeling her orgasm approaching even more, muscles clenching under Sana’s touch.

With a few more licks and some grinding against Sana’s face, Nayeon came. Hard. She gasped for air, riding her orgasm out as she still held the back of Sana’s head against her.

“Ffuck…” She huffed out and let Sana pull away, breathless and covered in Nayeon's own wetness. She had a usual grin on her face.

She brought her closer, enveloping them into a kiss. Nayeon tasted herself on Sana's lips, but she didn't mind it. In fact, a part of her even enjoyed it. 

They pulled away after a bit, just staring at each other for a bit.

“... Did you really think you were the top here?” Sana asked, finally.

“Nah.”

“Knew it,” she laughed out and pecked her lips. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

--

At dinner, they all sit at that same table.

First, there's some talking. Then Sana and Nayeon walk in together, hand in hand then taking their seats.

Everyone stares at them like they're about to get interrogated by the police.

It feels awkward… and the silence does not help one bit.

“... Guys, you cleaned the table, right?” Momo asked, finally.

There's no denying it, honestly. Sana wasn't even embarrassed one bit.

Nayeon was, though. Her face was flushed a deep red from embarrassment. Almost deeper than earlier when Sana was eating her out on this same table.

“Of course we did. We might be horny, we aren't gross-”

“Sana!” Nayeon nudged the girl’s shoulder.

“What? I'm telling the truth…” Despite the pouty look on her face, Sana chuckled.

Jeongyeon decided to interrupt them.

Probably in the worst (or best) way possible.

“... I knew Nayeon was a bottom-”

“YOO JEONGYEON I SWEA-” 

Rest in peace Yoo Jeongyeon. We’ll miss you! (Except Nayeon, maybe.)