#over things that did not actually occur in the game

[damiansgoodgirll]

I know this is so wrong on many levels, but would you please make something with punk cheating on her wife with reader? It can be smut and angsty at the same time, like they both are feeling really guilty but they can’t stop the sexual tension between them 🥵😭😩❤️🙏

AJ I LOVE YOU I PROMISE

cm punk x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️ +18, smut, angst, toxic phil, mean phil, cheating, daddy issues (?)

nasty attraction

what you and phil were doing was wrong on so many levels. he had a wife waiting for him at home, a wife he loved. he promised her to love and protect her, to be always by her side and yet he every week, after raw, he was always in your bed.

it started as an accident. he felt so guilty after you slept together that he avoided for a month. when he realised that he couldn’t avoid you forever, he talked with you, explained that what happened was just a mistake and that he had no feelings for you, that he was deeply in love with his wife and that he needed time to make amend.

you were hurt. you knew that he didn’t have feelings for you but the harsh way he said it, almost as if it was your fault you had sex, it hurt you.

he promised he would have never happened again but he couldn’t keep it promise much as just a few weeks later he was the one dragging you into his hotel room.

he needed to let go some tension and he thought that you wouldn’t mind. of course you didn’t mind. you were probably too focused on your crush for the old man to think that he was only using you.

that mistake turned into more and more mistakes and you couldn’t deny the immense attraction that you had for him. he was older, hot, more experienced than you, rough and cold, married.

all the red flags were right in front of you but you were too blind to see them.

“one last time…this is our last time…” he whispered while one of his hand was working on your clit as the other kept your wrists clutched to the bed.

everytime, he swore that it was going to be the last time but every week the same routine occurred.

he was happily married. he loved his wife more than he could explain. but there was something that you had that made him crawl under your skin.

you were young, in your twenties. you were inexperienced so that lead him to be able to do everything he wanted with you and your body. he knew you had a crush on him, he wasn’t stupid. and he knew it was wrong to play with your feelings but he couldn’t help it. you were like a stress reliever for him, someone he would be rough and mean, someone he could release all the past tension he had.

“fuck…” you moaned, your voice soft while his calloused hands kept harshly stimulating your clit.

“uh uh…bad girls don’t get to cum…” he loved the game he was playing “turn around…ass up” he ordered. he expected you to obey as you always did but there was some hesitation this time “i gave you an order y/n…don’t make me punish you” this was a common routine. he would tease you, he would turn you around and fuck you and then he would leave.

“i don’t want to…” you confessed, opening your eyes.

“to do what?” he didn’t meant to be so mean with you. sometimes he forgot that you were a person just like him and that you had feelings. especially after the whole situation with drew mcintyre, he was more stressed than ever.

“this…” you didn’t want to sound so weak but something shifted between the two of you. he wasn’t always so mean. sure, he wasn’t a vanilla lover but there times where he would actually take his time with you and make you feel appreciated. none of this quick fuck excuses “the way you’ve been treating me for the past weeks…i don’t deserve this phil…i’m not your whore and even if you don’t see this thing the way i see it, you don’t have to treat me like im nothing…” you didn’t meet his eyes.

guilt flowing through his body.

you were right. he knew you were right. but he knew that if he showed even the slightest bit of emotion and kindness towards you, he knew it would be over for him. he didn’t love you, absolutely. he didn’t have a crush like you had. but he was attracted by you, there was like a magnet around you that kept pulling him towards you.

he took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. thinking about how your presence was so intoxicating for him.

“i know…and i’m sorry…” he apologised “i’m so fucking sorry…i shouldn’t have been so rude with you, i just…”

“you just?” you were curious.

“what we do…it’s so wrong, i know i shouldn’t do this, i have an amazing wife waiting for me at home…i love her more than anything but i can’t help being so fucking attracted to you, and i know that if i get affectionate with you everything will change and i don’t want that…” he looked at you while speaking and it seemed true to his words.

“we can stop if you want to…” you hoped he would say no.

“that‘s the fucking problem…i can’t stop, i can’t get enough of you, your body, the way you sounds so sweet everytime you cum on my dick…i can’t stop this” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“one last time?” you asked him, hoping that he would say yes.

“one last time…” and he swore that it was going to be the last time for you and him.

he gently laid you down on the bed and kissed upon your body, as if he wanted to apologize for being so mean with you. and for a second you believed him, you believed that his intentions were pure but you remembered that he was a married man, a man who loved his wife, a man who couldn’t give you the future you wanted and deserved and for that you will always resent him.

when he pushed inside of you, his movements were slow, calm. like he wanted to savour you one last time.

he moaned into your shoulder, trying to control himself. he wanted to own you, to show you who was in charge. he wanted to bend you over like he always did but tonight was different, he wanted to have you one last time.

“shit…phil…” you didn’t mean to sound so weak but he was hitting all of the right spots inside of you and you couldn’t keep your moans low. he knew your body so well, and he knew what pushed you on the edge.

“right there baby?” he smirked, taking a deep look into your face. your eyes were closed, trying to stop tears from falling.

“yes…” and that was all he needed to hear since he started moving a little faster, hitting your sweet spot.

“i wanna feel you coming around my dick…one last time…” there was a little of sadness, maybe resentment.

his lips left some kisses over your neck and collarbone, mixing with the pleasure he was already bringing you. this was a sweet phil, a side that you never saw. and you thought about how lucky was his wife to have him, to having him kiss her goodnight every single night, how lucky she was to have him in her arms and hold him every day. you wanted to be that girl and you knew that someday you would get your chance to be loved, just that it wouldn’t be phil to love you like that.

a tear rolled down your eye, both from sadness and pleasure, he was easily bringing you over the edge “phil…i’m so close…” you moaned as your hands moved to mark his back. you didn’t mean to but if that was your last time together, you needed to have him as close as possible so you brought him closer to you. your chest meeting with tattooed one.

he sped a little more, you could hear the cracks from the bed, wondering if your hotel neighbours were hearing those too.

“come for me baby…” he whispered against your skin. those words making you clench hard around his dick that released inside of you. with a deep growl phil came, spilling inside of you. your legs still shaking a bit from the stimulation.

you both looked at each other, speechless. you hoped he would say something first but nothing came out of his mouth.

“our last time uh?” you tried to laugh, but deep down all you wanted to do was cry.

he chuckled, trying to ease the tension “yeah…our last time…i should probably go back to my bedroom” he whispered.

“you should” you didn’t want to hear more words coming out his mouth. you wanted to be left alone and never see him again.

he quickly stood up and he dressed himself. he took one look at you before leaving the room.

you stayed there, watching the ceiling and let all those tears fall.

“she’s so lucky…” you whispered, knowing that you’ll never have him.

[utilitycaster]

(you don't need to publish this because a) it's not a question and b) I don't want that maybe you're getting attacked/vagueblogged over it) I just wanted to say, that I originally came to your blog because of your nuanced, deep and really really good Caleb meta and that Imogenfans are missing out big time. I think, if Im/odna fans wouldn't have acted the way they did and talented people hadn't stopped writing meta about them, at least I would have warmed up to the characters way more....

Hi anon,

I hope you don't mind me publishing it anyway just because it's a good opportunity to elaborate on a few rather fanwanky feelings in one brief-ish statement.

I don't really care if people vague me and I think people who don't like being vagued are valid, but people who don't like being vagued, whine about it, and then continue to vague others are, understandably, idiots making the situation worse. Most people who had issues with being vagued re: the above simply stopped writing meta, which is why there's not much of it. Also a lot of what people call vaguing is just meta that disagrees with theirs, to be honest. I mean I do vague, a lot, and I'm very good at it, but I've also written 100% good faith meta about things I was thinking about the narrative without consideration of other peoples' opinions and it was called vaguing because I used aggressive tactics like citing my sources.

I've covered the fact that Imogen was actually treated very similarly to Caleb with the key difference that people who wrote meta about Caleb were treated badly by his haters, whereas people who wrote meta about Imogen were treated badly by her then-supporters who are now mostly defending Ashton and Dorian because Imogen started saying things they don't like and don't want to address. I just want to reiterate that if someone ever says that The Male Characters Played By White Actors Never Receive Hate you should just block them and stop taking them seriously. The hate is obviously not motivated by bigotry against real people, typically (though some criticism of Veth was certainly misogynistic even though Sam is a man, for example) but they still did receive pretty intense hate. It is kind of telling, personally, re a certain lack of backbone that people will bring up the horrible things people said about Liam or Travis or Taliesin in their own defense and then turn around and willingly engage with the people making these accusations they clearly know to be false, but you know. Unsurprising.

I tried to write something longer that really dug into the outline of events but it really comes down to this: a lot of the direct harassment (not vagueing) of meta writers, especially with regards to Imogen or Laudna, occurred during episodes like...20-50 of this campaign, and I think those doing the harassment either thought this would somehow make meta writers go "oh my god you're so right about the thing that you said I should die for not agreeing with, I'm going to write meta for you now" or that this would shut them down but wouldn't make other meta writers say "oh this environment has become hostile", which obviously it would. Coupled with the fact that this is when a lot of meta writers realized the campaign pacing was fucked and the party wasn't clicking in the same way past ones had and it really turned into a case of high risk of unpleasantness for a not really worth it reward for many of the meta writers who were around in earlier campaigns, and that in TURN meant that it's harder to have a good conversation without having existing chats so it's a less pleasant place for new fans. Anyway uh. I think the lesson here is that those C2 meta writers ARE around for Midst and Candela Obscura so it's also kind of a waiting game in the event that there is a future campaign (and if not, they will still be here for Midst/Candela/Possibly Daggerheart or future EXUs); they're just not here to write about Imogen or Laudna because it's not worth the trouble.

[area51-escapee]

I hope that in the future we no longer have to deal with people who don’t play video games trying to decide which games are too graphic or harmful and should be banned but then I look at people my age or younger and I’m like yeah we ain’t never getting out of this

[melodiafunfacts]

Welcome to Melodia Fun Facts, where we do, in fact, share fun facts about HarmoKnight! From stuff that's easily overlooked, to things you need to search the game files for, we have it all! And we're accepting submissions for things that even I might have looked over! Expect fun facts every now and then!

Stuff to know!!!

This blog is run by @phioneplatinum! If you want to see what I do outside talking about HarmoKnight facts, then feel free to see!

I go with She/Her pronouns!

These facts are all either in game, or mentioned by Game Freak themselves! [mostly in-game facts though, but do expect some outside of the game!]

This blog is not affiliated with Game Freak or All Possible Futures. This is a blog for fun!!

Want to submit a fact? Send it via the submissions box or send it in my Discord DMs! (phioneplatinum)

I have some understanding of Japanese, so expect some language difference facts too!

Fact Submission Rules! [don't worry, it's not too strict!]

All fact submissions must be things either official or seen in game.

Fact submissions must be mentioned as a fact. [ex: Fun HarmoKnight fact! (insert fact here)] If it's not a fact, please specify so I don't get confused!

Actually yeah that's it, if there's more, I'll update it.

With all that said, please enjoy the facts! :D

[noneoutofnone]

Getting whiplash going back to Armored Core VI after playing Starfield

Starfield trips over itself letting you know all of the quests are chill and good actually. The choices in dialogue range from doing a good deed to doing a good deed… for money😈. The only way to join the Space Pirates is to be offered the chance to go undercover first, making sure you see the Pirate but you’re a good guy option. If a persuasion check with someone fails, leaving you only with the prompt [Attack], your companion will say something to the effect of “woof, that was rough. But you did what you had to do.”

The most recent mission I finished in Starfield was for the United Colonies. You stand in front of a council of bureaucrats trying to convince them to hand over banned archival weapon data. This could help stop a small but growing danger to the galaxy. The council argues that it could also lead to that weapon falling into the wrong hands - It was locked away for a reason. It’s a great moment because it was the first time a character in starfield stood up and said to me No, you are in the wrong here, your research could lead to the weapon data leaking, civilians will be put it danger. ALERT. oh no. ALERT. Just as this conversation is happening an entirely contained but also extremely dire attack occurs. ALERT. You rush out and save the day. The threat is proven to be real and the data is necessary. No more questions about is it the right thing to do. Forget about all that other stuff we brought up, you were right. The whole council apologizes to you profusely. Here, take the nuclear launch codes, and here’s a thousand credits as an apology for insinuating that you weren’t the galaxy’s goodest bestest boy.

Mission 1 of Armored Core 6 is called “Illegal Entry”.

In mission 4 “Destroy the transport helicopters” the helicopters are just that. No weapons. Trying to run from you. The rubiconians who stand between you and the helicopters are defending their families. During the fight the enemies bark about you being the bad guy. After the mission your Dad calls you and says “It’s just a Job 621. All of it.” Throughout the entire game you are flooded with voicemails, calls, voices in your head, that all have an opinion on whether what you’re doing is good or bad or just a job.

Starfield is telling you not to think about it too hard. Armored Core is telling you to think about it. A lot. Screaming at you to think about it. What are you doing. It’s not just a job. The game is talking about your actions through all sorts of different lenses.

It’s stepping out of a lazy river and then immediately riding down Niagara Falls in a barrel. Sometimes literally. You see the same safe boring landing cutscene a million times in Starfield. Twice 621 has packed themselves into a barrel and yeeted it into danger.

[ainywanie]

૮₍˶Ó﹏Ò ⑅₎ა OF LOVE AND DREAMS

synopsis: or, in which a stressed out and overwhelmed kenji sato eats takeout with you and slow burn occurs.

requested by; anon / requests are open!

*⁠･⁠゜ﾟ⁠(⁠^⁠O⁠^⁠)⁠↝ read this as well in ao3

Baseball. Fatherhood. Ultraman.

What did those three things have in common? Absolutely none. That was the problem. Neither of those three things had any correlation which made it hell to learn how to split them all evenly. Had Kenji Sato found out earlier that his life would involve tons of juggling things around he would've signed up to be a clown instead of a celebrity.

“There ya go.” Kenji whispers, him in his Ultraman form cradled the adorable Emi who chirped and cried and did everything else but fall asleep in his arms. He's been having a long day and truthfully all he wants is to be less miserable than he was now.

He taps the girl’s back, the small Kaiju looking up at him with — which he swears he can practically see— literal stars in her eyes. “Daddy's here.”

Despite how normally he'd find some sense of contentment and probably even relief or satisfaction from finally soothing Emi from her distress, right now all his mind could try to even focus on was baseball and the fact the KDF were after Emi.

And, for a horrible moment, his heart clenches at the very thought of everything in his life just going away. He's already beating himself up with the recent games, he didn't need anything else adding onto that ever growing giant pile of lists on why Kenji Sato wasn't all that he said to be.

So, here he was, ready to just drown himself (and his sorrows) away with a can of unfortunately healthy coconut water. Couldn't a man drink and get drunk? A nice bottle of alcohol and wine would definitely hit just right for him at this moment.

“God damnit— Mina!” He exclaims, sighing and running his hand through his hair while he examines the drink in his hand, placing it down with a rather miserable expression. ‘This thing’s going to kill me before anything else’ He mutters to himself.

“It is best to incorporate a healthy lifestyle, especially with your many responsibilities lately.” Mina appears with her typical monotone and robotic voice.

“I'm as healthy as you can get.” He argues, walking around the rather huge kitchen he's got. Stardom tends to give out a whole heap of money, and that wasn't anything Kenji could just decline.

Mina stares at him —at least— he's sure if she were a real person with an actual human body she'd probably be staring at him with an unimpressed look. And then his mind flashes to his mother who'd also most likely be doing the same.

“I work out,” Kenji starts, deciding to defend his case. “I wake up early,” He adds, looking around the cupboards and making a mental note to get groceries soon. Soon would be way too far in the future. Soon is barely a day close to tomorrow considering he's already got a lot going on.

“I'm a professional athlete.” Kenji scoffs, leaning against the counter.

“Indeed you are. That is why I contacted—”

Just in time, the front door rings. He doesn't hesitate staring at the robot in disbelief and anger at the sudden visitor. As sudden as the visitor came, Mina promptly went away. “You've gotta be kidding,” He mutters, sighing as his hand rubs his temple while he walks over to the front door to see you at the other side.

His face falls, eyes widening in surprise as he didn't expect this whole thing. “What's up?” He asks, doing a 180 and attempting to be his typical suave self, though, internally he's already hitting himself for being so panicked.

What kind of greeting was ‘what’s up’?

“I bought take out.” You say with a smile, bringing up the paper bag filled with food and drinks and instantly it's almost like Kenji was a teenage girl. Nodding his head and promptly moving aside to let you in, he shuts the door behind you and follows after you into the kitchen.

“So,”

“So?”

He stares at you, watching as you take out plates and utensils for the two of you. “Seems like you've got this whole place down. I would've thought you owned the place instead.”

“I wish I owned this.” You only laugh, shrugging your shoulders, watching him stare at you and you swore he could melt things with how intense he's looking at you. “Seriously, when are you giving me the ownership of this house?”

He only rolls his eyes, walking over to you and nudging you lightly by the shoulder, helping you set the whole thing before he recognises the familiar look of the meal. It was from that one restaurant he'd promised to bring you but never got to.

“Thank you, by the way,” Kenji says, glancing at you from the corner of his eye with a soft smile. It was really the only thing he can say considering it was his mistake to have put all else before you.

“For the food?”

“For everything.” He corrects just before wincing at how absolutely lame and cheesy it sounded. “It sounded better in my head.” He quickly adds, watching you laugh.

“I'll take it.” You reply, enjoying how sweet he was being at the moment. It wasn't even a rare sight for him to treat you so nicely —he always did— but somehow something about the way he talked and looked at you just felt like something was up.

Kenji clears his throat, insisting you sit down on a chair next to him as you two dig into the food you bought from a restaurant that just opened up that you and him always talked about going to. “Wow, it's really good.” He says, glancing at you with a smile.

“Here, taste.” He holds up his chopsticks, the tempura in between as his other free hand is at the bottom opened up to catch any crumb that falls.

“Tastes good, right?” He asks without letting you get another word out as he eats more. “I should've brought you there— the restaurant. I think it would've been a nice experience for us.” He laments without another thought.

“It's fine. Eating takeout with you right now is the same as eating inside the place.” You assure, taking more bites of the meal. “Anyway, what's up with you lately?”

He raises a brow, turning a bit to the side to look at you as his hand stops midway before he takes another bite of his food. “Excuse me?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Do I really?” He shrugs his shoulders, attempting to push and change the topic. Kenji feels his brows furrow as he pushes the rice in his bowl around with a clear frown.

“Ken.”

And god does it drive him crazy when you call him by just that: Ken. Not Sato, Kenji, nor Ultraman. Ken. Which was weird considering you weren't the first nor the only one calling him by that nickname, but all he knew was that the way it rolled off your tongue just melted him and made him feel good in a way.

Ken sighs, groaning somewhat. He knows there's no escaping you when you set your mind full onto something.

“Okay, I've been busy with other things.” He admits.

“You mean baseball?”

He almost corrected you. Almost. Unfortunately he remembered you weren't aware he was Ultraman or that he was technically the father of a huge 20-foot Kaiju that lives in his basement.

Ken sighs, looking at you with a rather sad and clearly exasperated look. It's clear that he's really tired with whatever he's been busy with. And truthfully, you didn't want him to feel like he was being forced to tell you the truth.

“You don't have to tell me.” You whisper, taking a hold of his hand and squeezing it as you look up at him with a smile. “You'll tell me about it anyway in the future. Eventually, at least I hope.”

He smiles, letting out a small chuckle as he looks at you with a certain gleam in his eye, his hand squeezing yours back. “Yeah. I probably will.”

“See? And whatever those ‘other’ things are,” You bring up, attempting to cheer him up. Your fist connects with his shoulder playfully before your hand just naturally rests there. “I'm sure you'll handle them just fine no matter what.”

“Besides, I'm here if you need help.”

“I know.” Ken looked over at you, his hand coming up to hold the one you had on his shoulder. He can't exactly find the words to explain things: whatever he's feeling, whatever this moment meant, or whatever you and him were. Why would he need to ponder on your relationship?

You both just sat there, looking at each other expecting something yet also nothing at the same time. Would he? Would you? Neither one of you had any idea on what to do.

“I could kiss you right now.”

Now it was your turn to look at him in astonishment at his blunt words. You could practically feel your eyes leaving your socket and your jaw falling open. “Excuse me?”

“Platonically.” Ken adds in a panic. He sounds surprised and shocked at what he said as if it wasn't him who literally said it out loud. “Like on the mouth— cheek. On the cheek.” He clears his throat, completely looking away from you now with both shame and horror evident in his expression as his fingers begin to drum on top of the table.

The air is tense. The place was now quiet save for the sound his fingers make as they tap. “I appreciate it,” You awkwardly reply, looking away and it's clear both of you are extremely flustered. “The kiss on the cheek.” You said but was that really all you wanted?

“You would?” Ken raises a brow, managing to find some strength in facing you despite the way his heart started to beat in his chest furiously. “Great. I guess we could.. Do that?” He clears his throat, once more already imagining himself hitting his head from the back with a bat. Why did he have to keep talking?

“Deal.”

Despite the tension, whether it be because of the awkwardness or something else entirely neither of you cared as you laughed and ate the food. He told you stories, about his childhood, his work, or whatever he's just been up to in general; and in turn, you told him hilarious and rather stupendous jokes you often hear from your coworkers, but it always makes him laugh so you suppose it does the job.

“— and then I accidentally hit her on the head so you can bet it wasn't nice afterwards.” He told you the story of him teaching Emi baseball, disguising Emi as a girl he babysits ‘on the side’ often whom he also grew pretty fond of watching over. “She's a sweet girl. Needy. But sweet.”

You laugh, enjoying his stories which were never dull and always filled with a sense of amazement every time he tells you one. “Well, what else did you expect from a kid?” You reply with an amused smile.

“I knew what to expect, okay?” He chuckles, shaking his head as his thoughts drift to his times of being with Emi and spending time with her who he practically saw as a daughter. “I just didn't expect things to be hard.”

You send him a raised brow and a playful smile. “If I didn't know any better, I would've thought this Emi was your daughter.” You comment. It wasn't really that hard for you to notice how proud he looked when he told you about this Emi. And frankly, this was even the first time he brought her up so it was a surprise for you to learn he even did babysitting as a side job.

Ken nearly chokes on his food at your words. He couldn't be that terrible at keeping his facts straight and making up a whole cover-up story, could he? He turns to you with a forced chuckle leaving his lips. “That just shows how she means to me now, yeah?” He attempts to reply.

“Guess so,”

Eventually, it was getting late, and not wanting you to travel alone back to your home, Ken had insisted you sleep in his room on his bed which surprises you.

“You've got two beds?” You ask, surprised but you follow him to his room nonetheless. In it, you're not surprised with how minimalistic the whole place is. Though you'd probably also be concerned if it was uncharacteristically decorated and done.

Ken raises a brow at you, gesturing to his single bed in the room. “Just that.” He answers, fixing up the bed for you before grabbing some extra blankets and bedsheets from his closet where he neatly places them on the floor.

“Don't sleep on the floor.” You say, stopping him before he can pull some of the pillows down. “I don't mind sharing.”

And so, now, here you both were. Laying down side by side and staring up at the ceiling as silence is present. You're both beneath the sheets, still somewhat wide awake.

“I really appreciate you coming over.” Ken whispers, shifting a bit so he's on his side and looking at you. “You were just what I needed.”

You smile, shifting as well to face him and so you're both staring at each other with wide grins yet shy looks. He was also what you needed. You could tell both your moods improved with just one dinner despite how uneventful it sounded, it meant a lot.

“Thanks, Ken.”

“For what?”

“Everything.”

Baseball. Fatherhood. Ultraman.

Maybe he should seriously start wondering if he should also add love onto the list. But for now, with a quick kiss to your cheek (which takes you by surprise), Ken turns around and closes his eyes and feels himself start to dream.

[darknight3904]

Animals

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ᴡᴀɴᴛꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴘᴏꜱɪᴛɪᴠᴇʟʏ ᴀɴɪᴍᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ɢᴇᴛꜱ ꜰᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ɢᴀᴍᴇꜱ.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ / ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ / ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɪꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴅɪᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴍ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴛ. ɪɴꜱᴛᴇᴀᴅ, ʜᴇ'ꜱ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴠᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʜᴏᴡ ꜰᴀʀ ʜɪꜱ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴛʀᴜʟʏ ɢᴏᴇꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴇʀ.

ᴇxᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴀʜᴇᴀᴅ 18+ ᴏɴʟʏ: ᴍᴀʟᴇ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴜʀʙᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴘ ɪɴ ᴠ ꜱᴇx, ᴄᴜɴɴɪʟɪɴɢᴜꜱ, ᴅᴇɢʀᴀᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx - ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴅᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪʀʟ- ꜱᴀ - ɪᴛ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ'ᴛ ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ

ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ

ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʀᴜʟʏ ᴇxᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ꜱᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ɢᴏ ᴇᴀꜱʏ ᴏɴ ᴍᴇ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ʟɪᴛᴇʀᴀʟʟʏ ᴏᴠᴇʀ 7ᴋ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ.

ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢꜱ ᴀɴɪᴍᴀʟꜱ ʙʏ ᴍᴀʀᴏᴏɴ 5, ᴍᴇᴅᴅʟᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʙʏ ᴄʜᴀꜱᴇ ᴀᴛʟᴀɴᴛɪᴄ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʙʟᴀᴍᴇ ᴍᴇ ʙʏ ᴛᴀʏʟᴏʀ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛ.

The last month and a half had been a whirlwind of emotions for Coriolanus. The 11th games had been a huge success. Not only had Capitol viewership skyrocketed but so did the districts, especially after huge viewing screens had been sent to the poorer districts. He was proud of what he and Gaul had been able to conjure up in her lab and he was proud of the warm reception it had gotten. Most of all though, he was proud of the new tech systems you had introduced and showed him. Sure, he had to deal with your flirting and pretty little shirts he wished he could rip off, but all of that had been worth the success of the 11th Hunger Games. Still, despite his feelings of success and accomplishment when people complimented him, something was missing, and he knew what it was.

You.

God, you were on his mind more than whatever shitty work he was supposed to be focusing on. During his waking hours, he found that you were dancing through his mind. It didn't help that you regularly came to the Department of War now to work. Your pretty hair and seductive outfits annoyed him to no end. Not to mention the fact that you were still with that fool, Aesop.

He'd like to imagine Aesop just disappearing one day to some unknown world and him taking the place of that ill-dressed fool. He wanted to be able to spin you around on the dance floor of all the gala's you attended with the plain featured man. He wanted to be able to be the only one to listen to the clicking of the pretty heels you wore. He wanted to be the only one for you.

Even now, at night, you haunted him. Of course, the soft thoughts of galas and pretty shoes had vanished now that he was tucked safely into his bed. He wanted you in the most sinful of way. Often, he'd entertain himself by fantasizing that you were truly there, pacing his hallway, and getting ready to open the door to his room and jump into bed with him. Coriolanus would spend his nights tangled in his sheets, pumping his cock and whining out your name, wishing you were there to help him finish. He could still hardly believe what had occurred at that restaurant weeks ago. What the hell was that? You had embarrassed him sure, but did you honestly think that was going to stop him from marking his claim on you? You were his, you always had been from the start.

Coriolanus wanted you in a way that was positively animalistic. His hand was rough against his cock tonight as his other hand ran over his chest, pulling at his nipples and pressing down at his stomach which wouldn't stop twitching whenever his fingers brushed his cock just right. What would you feel like under him? How pretty would you look when he held you down and slid himself inside you?It had been so long since you last warmed his bed that he could scarcely remember what you had felt like, sounded like, when he fucked you. Surely whatever his mind was conjuring up would be surpassed by the actual thing.

His legs kicked at the sheets that had wrapped around his legs as he spilled into his hand, a gasp of your name on his lips. He wished you were here with him. He wished you could be here so he could mark your pretty neck and chest up. God, he wanted to see tears spill from your eyes when he slid into your slick walls. He'd love to feel your nails bite into his back and mark him up, he wanted to wear your marks for all of Panem to see.

Maybe it was love, or perhaps just plain old obsession that was gripping at his mind. Either way, he knew that he'd have you, one way or another you were going to be his.

It was as he stood in the shower, cleaning off the filth that came with self-pleasure that the ideas came to him. Should he start with flattering you? Flowers each day or a nice dinner, one where you didn't yell at him so much. Or, maybe getting rid of Aesop was the best way to go about all this. Whenever Coriolanus saw the two of you, you were always so wrapped up in your "love" for the man. How would you ever realize that Coriolanus was the one for you if that ugly little leech was constantly blocking the view?

The view being him, of course. Who else would be worthy of your affection? Those other men you had and tried to play house with surely couldn't hold a candle to him. Coriolanus knew that he was the blueprint for a prospective partner. Now, all he did was to get you to see that in him again. He knew you would, eventually. All he had to do was play the game.

The first difference you noticed was actually thanks to Dr. Gaul. Despite her strange behaviors, she was highly observant.

"Mr. Snow is staring again." Dr. Gaul pointed out

"He's been staring for months. It doesn't bother me anymore." You sigh, annoyed that she was so invested in you and Coriolanus. Since when was she a romantic?

"I think this gaze will." She says her voice sending a chill through you. Why was this woman the scariest person in all of Panem?

You glance up from your work to meet Coriolanus' eyes from across the room. His eyes were, as usual, watching you. While they were normally that of a scorned puppy whose owner had stepped on its tail, Coriolanus' eyes now seemed hungry. Hungry for what exactly you weren't quite sure yet.

Dr. Gaul let out a delighted little giggle but moved away from your desk as you shot daggers back at the blonde man.

"You ought to take a photo, Coryo." You smiled

The lack of response from him was rather unnerving. It was as if he was studying you from his desk. Like he was committing the scene to memory.

Weeks passed and you begrudgingly ignored Coriolanus' gaze on you. Before you hadn't minded since he always looked at you with admiration and a saddened look of what could've been. Now, that look of determination and odd hunger was annoying you. Of course, you elected to ignore whatever he wanted until they started appearing.

Flowers.

Every day, a fresh bouquet of roses appeared on your desk. They'd be there, on your desk as soon as you entered Gaul's lab for the day. Where the hell did he get off on sending you flowers? Did he honestly think staring at you and sending pretty flowers from his Grandma'am's gardens was going to get you to forgive him? Did he not remember what he did? Cheating on you and then doing who knows what to poor Lucy Gray, and then denying it all? Coriolanus Snow was surely delusional if he thought you were going to take him back.

You scooped up the newest bunch from the pretty glass vase they sat in and tossed them into the little garbage can that sat next to your desk. A soft huff escaped your lips as you settled into your chair, Coriolanus' eyes were watching you again. Why did he even bother with the flowers if he watched you throw them away? The game had surely ended with the scene you put on at the restaurant months ago. So why was he still trying? What the hell was his ploy here? Whatever it was it was seriously beginning to get under your skin.

What really tipped you over the edge though happened on the first night of winter. It was the coldest day of the week and your day at work had been positively horrific. Dealing with Gaul's strange little quirks and the board meeting you had gotten stuck in for hours had been positively horrific. Not to mention Coriolanus had started planting red roses in your desk in addition to the normal daily bouquet.

To anyone else that might be romantic but it was driving you mad. The months of silence from him compounded with the roses was an insane combination. You wished he'd just open his mouth once and maybe say something rude so you could continue to ignore him and get rid of the feelings you felt whenever you unearthed another rose. Not to mention you hadn't been able to see Aesop in nearly two weeks since his birthday. It wasn't that you were ignoring him, your fatigue combined with his own responsibilities didn't make the best combination for a relationship.

You fell onto the couch, wishing that you didn't have to shower before going to bed. Your home was rather dark but something caught your eye. Down the hall, your bed, normally covered in a pretty blue bedspread your mother had picked for you when you moved looked odd.

Sure enough, something was wrong with it. Roses, hundreds of them sat, covering your bed so that the blue of the blanket below was gone entirely, covered in a sea of red. How the hell did he even get in here? You were on the 20th floor of the building so he couldn't have climbed in, right? Did you leave the door unlocked? Oh god was the door even locked when you came home? You couldn't remember as you checked the locks on your window in your room. Then, as you were moving to push all the damn roses off your bed something little caught your eye. A single paper swan sat on your dresser, nestled between your perfume bottles and hair brush. Beside it, a note was folded neatly almost as if he'd known you'd go to check your windows and find this swan and note.

I'll be at your picnic. Don't keep me waiting.

Coriolanus Snow had some nerve, attending a nonexistent picnic that he had missed nearly two years ago.

The wind felt like a million little knives as you walked towards the entrance of the park you had requested Coriolanus to meet you at so long ago. God you wished he could've asked to meet at a more practical location, it had started snowing on your drive over. Who in their right mind chooses to meet at a park when it's freezing outside? Oh right, he wasn't in his right mind. Perhaps he never was, after all what kind of a monster could kill their best friend?

You didn't want to admit it but Coriolanus was devastatingly handsome. He always had been, even during your days at the academy when he still had the soft curls you loved to pull on when he was in bed with you. Even now with his new hairstyle, he was captivating. Of course, good looks can only get you so far and you knew exactly what lurked behind that pretty face. A snake that charmed its prey before going in for the kill is what lurked behind those blue eyes that you had once loved to look into. But, recently, you had a hard time believing that he really was a monster. The roses and longing stares certainly didn't help either. Sometimes, in the dead of night, you found yourself wishing for him, for Coriolanus.

Sure enough, he was there, sitting at a picnic bench where you had once cried your eyes out because he never showed up, too busy with Lucy Gray. Your frozen feet sped up as he stood, ready to greet you, and hopefully explain how the hell he got into your home.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" You say, shoving at his chest when he gets close to you

"I thought girls liked flowers? Red roses symbolize love you know." He says, barely stumbling back. Curse that Peacekeeper training he went through.

"Girls also like it when people, oh I don't know, decide not to break into their home after weeks of creepily staring at them!" You accuse, angrily.

Coriolanus had to swallow the smile that was itching to weave its way across his face. The weeks of silence, stares, and roses had frazzled you. The pressure he had put on you had torn down the woman who had embarrassed him in the restaurant months ago. Perhaps he could rebuild her, into a new one of course. He knew he could and he knew you were capable of being what he wanted. All it was going to take was a little effort.

"I originally was planning to simply leave them at your door, but when I got there it was unlocked. I thought It'd be romantic to leave them on your bed. Forgive me if I overstepped. I was sure the woman in charge of cameras and new technology for the Hunger Games would've had better sense and locked her doors in the mornings." He smiled.

Could you see that he was lying? Your door had been ridiculously easy to open. The lock was a joke, hopefully, whoever owned the building would replace the locks, after all, you don't want to have break-ins, someone dangerous might get in.

"Overstepped? Romantic? Coryo, I'm dating someone already! You need to accept that and stop with the gestures! Not to mention our past isn't exactly...well all roses!" You groan

Well, aren't you just adorable with your jokes?

"I don't see any issues with my actions. I'm just showing a pretty girl my feelings for her. It's not my fault she's still with some ugly pig." He says truthfully

He smiles when he sees your face flush slightly. Sure, it could've been the cold and the snow that was falling but something inside him said you enjoyed his compliment.

"See that's the problem with you! You never see anything wrong with your actions and just keep going as if you think you're right! And because of that, you're standing on a pile of bodies that is only growing larger. " You point, stepping back slightly as he steps towards you.

"I don't ever think I am right in my actions. I know I am. Every step I've ever taken has been the correct one. The same goes for you, by the way. You want to be so benevolent and hold Sejanus, Highbottom, and Lucy Gray against me." He steps forward and finally closes what little distance was left and hooks a finger under your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his, "The truth is, you also stand on a pile of bodies. Perhaps it is even larger than mine, how many people did your mother step on to build her name, the legacy that she gifted to you. "

You're shaken by his words, rightfully so, no one wants to be called out on the darkest corners of their souls. He knows that you can see he's right. Tears are welling in your eyes and he wipes at one that falls. You look beautiful enough to devour as your eyes flutter shut. His breath mingles with yours and he appreciates how the snow sticks in your hair, it almost makes you look angelic.

"Why're you crying?" He asked

"Stop it." You whimper, trying to pull away from him and his hands.

"Stop what? Comforting you or stop talking about what got you to where you are now?" He asks, grabbing at your upper arm to keep you close

"Both." You say, voice so quiet it might blow away with the snow that fell from the sky.

"Our hands are stained in blood. Blood from the pile of bodies we both stand on now. That pile is only going to grow each year, every games we organize is another 23 added, trampled under our shoes." He points out

"Coryo, stop it," You say, looking up at him "Let me go, I want to go home."

"What I'm trying to say is why add to that pile alone? I, of all people, know what it feels like. Stand by my side and you'll never have to feel it again." He says honestly. Perhaps you'd take his proposal now. You had been so angry at the restaurant, blinded by your rage.

"Feel what?" You ask

"Guilt," He says softly.

"Like you've ever felt guilt." You scoff, rolling your eyes

"Maybe I have, maybe I haven't. What I do know is you feel it. Don't think I didn't notice your face the moment the first few kids fell during the games a few weeks ago. I also remember your reaction when those snakes were released last year and they jumped on that poor little one first, what was her name again? Wove?" Coriolanus asked, knowing exactly how to worm his way into your heart

"Wovey." You say, "She was my tribute, I stupidly thought she might have a chance to win until Dr. Gaul released that cage."

Your bottom lip is trembling as you recount what your tribute had meant to you. Coriolanus couldn't remember her very well but you clearly did. He almost felt guilty for bringing it up again. Almost.

He reaches out and gently takes your face in his hands. Thanks to the incident in the restaurant, he knew anger would get him nowhere with you. So, instead of yelling at you and calling you stupid for caring for some District scum, he gently kisses you. A surprised little gasp escapes your lips but he swallows it down as the kiss deepens. He wants to melt into your arms when your hands card through his perfectly styled hair.

"Stop it!" You suddenly command, pushing him away from you

"What's wrong? You seemed to enjoy that." He cockily said

"I'm, I'm with Aesop. I love him, and you don't get to ruin that for me because you screwed us up years ago." You say, your voice cracking a bit.

You certainly don't seem confident in that statement. Did you even truly like Aesop or were you just using him?

"If you're going to declare your love for someone you ought to actually be certain of it before putting it into words." He says

"I know your game, Coryo. You aren't going to ruin me again." You say

He can't get another word out as you spin around and race back to your car. You sure were a hard thing to catch, but he knew it all would be worth it. After all, when hunting something, the chase was always the most exciting part.

You didn't see Coriolanus after your meeting in the park. You avoided Gaul's lab and just sent your assistant with messages to her instead. Forget trying to get under Coriolanus' skin with your flirting and clothes, he was driving you positively mad. His words had replayed in your mind hundreds of times in the past week.

That pile is only going to grow each year, every games we organize is another 23 added.

Sure, you had always known that but hearing it had sent a shiver down your spine in the most horrific way. Why had he said it when he knew that you felt guilt for it. He had to be after something, but what? Perhaps he just wanted you. But you remained faithful to Aesop. So what was he doing, still sending you flowers and little paper swans to accompany them?

"You know its already dead right?" Aesops question snapped you from your thoughts

You looked down at the poor piece of steak you had been aggressively cutting.

"Oh, right...I'm sorry there's just been a lot on my mind recently." You admit

"Tell me about it. We haven't gotten to talk in weeks." He smiles

"It's just work. Gaul is getting crazier every day. She asked me if I thought having a tail would be fun today." You sigh

"Well, what'd you say? Because I think it might be kind of cool." Aesop says

"I said it would be rather odd." You admit

"It might be. Can you imagine the draft on your ass if you ever wanted to wear pants?" He grinned

"Oh my god." You groan "You're actually a child."

Aesop smiles a pops a bite of his potatoes in his mouth.

"You love it."

It's true, you loved being with him. Even now as you lay in bed, covers up to your chin as he washed off the sweat that came with sex. You loved almost everything about Aesop. His humor was perfect and his cooking was simply divine. Not to mention he was simply a perfect gentleman. Although, nights like this had you wishing for something a bit more exciting. Honestly, you sometimes wished for someone not so agreeable, someone who'd banter with you over something ridiculous. Beyond that though, you missed the feeling of a true orgasm. Aesop was lovely in bed but he wasn't quite so knowledgeable about the female form when it came down to it. You had chalked it up to him always making foreplay just a bit too short.

When even was your last orgasm with another person? Perhaps one of those flings you had before you met Aesop? Or maybe...oh no surely it couldn't have been the last time you slept with Coriolanus. That was years ago! You had to have had one with another partner. Perhaps that fellow who had dyed his hair green and had been so tall you could've asked him to change a lightbulb without a ladder. Or maybe that time Aesop had gone down on you? No that wasn't it....

"What's on your mind?"

"Nothing...come to bed." You smile as he emerges from the bathroom, admiring his naked chest.

"Let me get dressed first," Aesop says as you reach for him

"Ugh, fine." You laugh, despite his shortcomings, he truly was the perfect one for you.

Coriolanus had finally decided exactly how he was going to free you from that monkey's grasp. Aesop, bless his thoughtful soul was in medical school at the university. Coriolanus had dug deeper into the university files and found that Aesop was the son of some rich man who ran huge lumber plants out in District 7. This meant that Coriolanus' favored method of poison would probably be too harsh for the situation. Not to mention you'd surely know who did away with your paramore. No, this particular murder was going to take a bit of cunning moves, moves Coriolanus was sure he'd be able to pull off,.

Amidst this digging, he also found out that not only was he two full years older than you but he was also amid his residency at a doctor's office closest to the school. Aesop was certainly making it a bit too easy for Coriolanus to get rid of him once and for all. So, now, here he sat, a middle-aged Capitol woman, the wife of some lofty untouchable politician in front of him.

"And then what are you going to say to the board at the school?" He asked, hoping it had finally gotten through her thick skull.

"I say that he harassed my son when I went to the bathroom. And my boy was too scared to say anything about it until now." She said

"Who is he? The board won't know what to do if you don't give names. And you need to give more details or it won't be believable." He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. Did this woman have nothing but air between her ears? How hard was it to get a fake story right? Coriolanus wished there had been a better option for this but she was the only one rich enough that the school board would have no choice but to act.

"R-Right. He-The student Aesop. When my son and I were at the office he works in last week, I left to go to the bathroom and when I came back into the room, he was harassing my son." She says

Who the hell was teaching these people? Honestly, someone who is so incompetent should just go live in the Districts. Let another person more deserving take their place in society.

"What kind of harassment?!" He yelled, slamming his hands so hard on the desk she flinched across from him. "Sorry...you just, you need to be crystal clear with what kind of harassment or he will never get put away. You want revenge on this Aesop's family, right? His daddy left you for another woman years ago right?"

The woman nods, still a bit scared from him losing his cool.

"Okay, well I want this Aesop put away for good. So you and I have a bit of common ground here. But it won't work if you aren't perfect when you go to the board." He smiles

The woman is as predictable as any other Capitol citizen and is easily charmed by his warm demeanor.

"Now, let's try it again." He says, reaching across the desk to take her hand in his, "And this time I want you to be perfect, understand?"

Coriolanus isn't sure what to make of the blush that warms this woman's face. Of course, he should've seen it coming since she had been practically drooling over him ever since he summoned her to his office. Guess it was good to know his charm was still intact despite you rejecting him so many times.

"I went to the doctor's office with my son last week. While we were there I had to use the restroom, so I left my boy in the examination room and expected him to be safe there." She starts

"Good," He praises, "Now continue"

"When I returned to the room, the medical student I had seen with the doctor earlier was harassing my boy. He was too scared to tell me what truly had happened though until last night which is why I'm coming to you now." She finishes

"Wonderful. Now they'll ask you what manner of harassment this was, you know. And what exactly are you going to say?" He says, releasing her clammy hand from his.

"The sexual kind, right, Mr. Snow?"

Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Aesop would be gone from your life before the week was over and Coriolanus would be there to pick up the pieces that were left behind.

Your call comes right after Coriolanus has finished his dinner.

"Coryo!"

Your voice sounds desperate through the phone. Perhaps you had been crying because you sounded a bit choked up as well.

"Yes?" He asks, hoping it doesn't sound like he's smiling on you r end.

"They took him! They just came into my home and snatched him right off my couch! I tried to stop them but they took him outside and into this huge truck! I called my mother but she said she can't do anything! Please you have to do something!"

You're so frantic he actually feels bad for a second.

"Slow down. Who took who?" He asked, playing his part

"Aesop! A bunch of Peacekeepers just barged into my home and took him right off the couch. They just said he had been charged with some crime by some fancy politician! Please Coryo don't you have connections to get him out?" You wail

He doesn't. Even if he did he'd never use them on a fool like Aesop. But he doesn't.

"I'm going to come over. Just stay put." He says before placing the phone back on the hook.

How perfectly everything falls into place when you grease the right palms.

You're a little ball of tears, snot, and anxiety when he finally gets to your cute little apartment. He had let himself inside, the door had been unlocked for real this time.

"Coryo!" You cry, jumping into his arms

He wasn't expecting you to be so willing to hug him but he accepts it anyway. You feel so perfect in his arms, even if your tears are staining his dress shirt.

"Stop the tears." He gently commands when he feels the dampness hit his skin.

You let out an ugly sniff before letting go and gesturing for him to sit on the couch with you.

"So tell me exactly what happened." He says, making sure to scoot closer to you

You recount exactly how your evening has gone and he pretends to really take it all in. While your pretty voice fills his ears, he can't help how his mind begins to fantasize. Your tears are still falling slightly and he finds himself wishing he was the cause of them. Not out of pain of course, pleasure obviously. His eyes wandered over your frame as he took in your attire for the evening. You were in a simple dark blue pullover. It looked decently soft and comfortable as he gulped at the sight of your exposed legs. Where were your pants? Had you hugged him without pants on? You must've since he didn't see you remove anything since he entered. Your pretty hair is messily pulled out of your eyes as you say something about how scared Aesop had looked when he was hauled off.

Your exposed skin was making it even harder to focus on the words falling from your lips as his mind raced. Were you playing some game here? He'd love to find out by bending you over this damn couch and fucking you silly. Finally, there was nothing between the two of you, Aesop had gone to meet his fate and you were clearly interested in what he had to offer. That outfit was making your interest abundantly clear. Your legs shifted suddenly and He's sure he sees the lacy glimpse of lingeine. Is that why you were so upset? Were to planning on seducing Aesop and now he's left you high and dry? Poor, pretty girl. Not to worry though, he'd gladly take Aesop's place. He felt his pants tighten as he imagined you on your knees in front of him, taking his cock into your pretty mouth. Whatever lacy little number you were wearing under that damn shirt he'd tear off and make sure your body was covered in him before the night was over.

"Is there anything you can do for him?"

Shit. Thats right. He was only here because you thought he could spring Aesop from whatever fate awaited him.

"I'm afraid even I do not have connections that go that high yet." He says, trying his best to sound regretful

"Do you think Dr. Gaul does? I can call her now." You suggest, hopefully.

It's pathetic how desperate you are right now. Why can't you just let him go?

"She may, but do you even know what crime he committed? What if it's something awful? Then, wouldn't it be better that he was locked up?" He asks

"I'm sure it's not. They probably have the wrong person. His father is incredibly wealthy you know." You say, sniffling slightly

He does know.

"No, I didn't. In that case, perhaps he'll be fine then. Money goes a long way here, you know that." He smiles, gently taking your hand in his

"You're right...perhaps I'm being hasty." You sigh

"Perhaps." He agrees before gently pressing a kiss to your forehead.

He smiles when you lean into his side, resting your head on his shoulder.

You're happy he's here by your side. If not for Coriolanus' presence you'd probably be slipping into madness and dialing up Dr. Gaul and god only knows what she was doing at this hour.

"Thanks for coming over, Coryo. I'm sorry I went crazy on you at the park that night." You apologize, truly feeling guilty for how you acted.

"Is that the only thing you're sorry for?" He quips

You know what he's referring to. The restaurant incident must've hurt him badly. You actually feel a bit guilty as you squirm under his gaze.

"I'm sorry for the restaurant thing too." You say, your voice just barely above a whisper

You hear him let out a little amused laugh.

"It's alright, pretty girl. I know you were just upset since you thought I cheated on you with Lucy Gray." He says

You nod in agreement, your mind feels like it's stuffed with cotton as Coriolanus' big hand begins to rub circles on your exposed skin. His hand drifts slowly up, up up, and brushes at the lace that covers your core.

"Coryo..." You gasp when his finger presses at your clit through the fabric

"Mmm, what is it?" He mumbles, his attention elsewhere as slips a finger behind the fabric and into your soaked folds.

You feel Coriolanus let out a laugh of delight when a desperate gasp leaves your lips.

"Someone's desperate. You're soaked." He teases, his lips gently sucking at your neck.

You knew the cause of your desperation, stress from work, and the lack of orgasms was taking a toll on you. The original plan for the evening had been to don sexy undergarments and then pull Aesop into bed with you. But now...Coriolanus was here, warm, pressed against your skin and toying with you just right, and for the first time in over a year, you actually feel an orgasm building up.

"Stop." You command, finally finding your voice among your newfound pleasure.

The warm hand drags itself from between your thighs, regrettably and Coriolanus looks at you like you've stolen his favorite dessert right off his plate.

"What is it? Did I hurt you?" He asks, pressing a kiss to your shoulder which had become exposed when your shirt was pushed slightly off. When had he done that?

"I-I'm with Aesop, remember." You shakily say

"You don't sound so sure about that." He smirks

You roll your eyes and are about to scold him instead are met with him actually cooperating when he stands up to leave.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He says before walking out and closing the door behind him.

The next few months were hard. Hard on you but also hard on Coriolanus. Aesop ended up being defamed on national television just days after Coriolanus had finally gotten the first taste of you in years. He had been essentially verbally ripped apart by the president and the father of the boy he had allegedly "assaulted". Then, he was physically ripped apart by some of the largest dogs Coriolanus had ever seen. It had been quite the spectacle and something inside him said that Gaul was behind the dogs that devoured your boyfriend on national television. You were a messy little thing after that. A depressed, messy thing. Coriolanus spent many days after that at your bedside trying to coax you into the shower or at least into a bath. It was when he was trying to force food down your throat that he truly felt bad for his actions. He had underestimated your love for Aesop. Of course, how was he supposed to know that they were going turn him into a living spectacle and let him be eaten by mutts?

But what came after was worth every bit of work and spilled food on your mattress. Aesop's overly graphic death had left you a shell of who you were before and now you clung to Coriolanus like he was going to disappear from your hold. Even now as you were in his bed, you wanted him as close as possible. You were nestled into his side as you both read your own books. Coriolanus' was something about the histories of Panem and yours a work of fiction. Normally, it held his attention perfectly but you were distracting. The way your tongue would jut out and lick at your lips every few minutes was driving him insane, not to mention the fact that you were dressed in his clothes in his bed.

"Coryo," Your sweet voice sounded "What's wrong? You're staring at me pretty hard."

"Nothing...just thinking how positively delicious you look in my shirt, in my bed, smelling of me." He smiled

You let our an embarrassed groan and try to shove him away from you.

"You're such a pervert." You laugh

It's true, he's a pervert. A pervert just for you. You had been driving him insane ever since you had begun to cling to him like a lost puppy. Even now, his eyes were roaming to where the swell of your tits was trying to hide under his shirt. What a poor job it was doing, he'd love to rip it off you.

"What're you thinking about?" You ask

"I...am thinking about skipping my dinner and going right to dessert tonight." He smiles, sitting up and getting up to position himself at the end of the bed

"Coryo!" You smile and gasp when he grabs you by the ankles and pulls you towards where he waits at the foot of the bed.

He gently pulls at the skimpy panties you've put on for the day. Honestly, what were you thinking? That you'd be able to prance around his home dressed like this and not entice him at all? He tosses them to the floor before gently pushing your legs apart. His eyes meet yours, a silent request for permission to bury his head between your thighs.

"Go ahead. I know you want to." You laugh

It's all he needs before his lips begin to tease the soft flesh of your inner thighs. He watches carefully as your head tips back when his teeth brush along your folds.

"Fuck!" You gasp when he presses a warm kiss to your clit

It's his turn to gasp and groan though when his tongue finally meets your cunt and your hands fly to his hair and tug.

"So sweet. You're going to ruin me, pretty girl." He mumbles before going up to suck your sensitive little clit.

You're seeing stars dance behind your eyelids as he licks and lets his teeth gently nibble at your most sensitive bits. Your clit feels like its burning as he pulls it into his mouth and sucks, hard. What really does it though is when he lifts a hand off your thigh and presses two long fingers into your needy entrance.

"Coryo!" You gasp as your hips jump off the bed, trying to jump away from the onslaught of pleasure.

"Stay still." He warns, biting at your thigh

You let your fingers tug harshly at his hair as he continues his ministrations.

"C'mon, give it to me. I know you're close."

Coriolanus' deep voice, riddled with lust is all it takes for you to cry out and cum all over his pretty face. Your chest heaves for air as he lets you come down.

"Good job." He smiles, wiping the back of his hand along his face that glistens with you.

You smile a dopey smile as he gently runs his fingers along the mess he made between your legs. His hands drift upwards and tug at your shirt, clearly wanting to expose your chest to his gaze. You comply pull his t-shirt off and toss it off the bed.

"We're not done yet though." He says, pleased, before leaning over to whisper in your ear like it's some secret no one else can know, "Turn around, ass up."

You let him maneuver you into the position he likes best, a deep arch in your back, displaying what was between your legs perfectly. You feel his hands run along your back, undoubtedly admiring you from behind.

"What a pretty little thing you are." He compliments before sliding into you.

Coriolanus swears there's nothing more perfect in this world than your cunt. The way it tightens when he goes just the slightest bit too deep and the way it just gushes whenever he toys with your clit. He admires what you look like from behind as he drills into you. His hands run up your body and twist into your hair before meanly pulling up so your back is flush with his chest.

"You're too fucking perfect." He rasps into your ear, inhaling the scent of your sweat "You've got me fucking you from behind, like a damn animal. Do you enjoy it? Being treated like some slut? A bitch just made for me hmm?"

"More!" You gasp, "Please, Coryo!"

"She wants more." He laughs, he knows he's being mean when he slows down his hips and you cry out.

"No!" You cry as he pulls out

"Just wanna look at you when you cum." He explains as he gently pushes you down so your back hits the mattress

A desperate moan leaves both of your lips when he slides back in.

"Coryo!" You gasp as his fingers find your clit, he could feel his stomach clenching, a telltale sign he was ready to cum, but what kind of a man doesn't get his girl off first?

"Are you close?" He says, ignoring the way your nails dig into his back when his hips speed up

"Yes!" You exclaim, letting your nails rake down his skin.

He groans as he leans down to steal the messiest of kisses from you. Spit and teeth clash as he continues to rock into you. He grabs at your hand and brings it up to your bouncing chest.

"Give me a show and I'll let you cum." He whispers into your ear, knowing you'll listen

He has to harshly grasp at the sheets under you when your little hands toy with the the chest that has had him enamored since he was a teenager.

"Fuck!" He gasps before swooping down to suck marks into said chest.

"Close!" You cutely warn him

"Yeah? Go ahead, cum." He demands before moving his hand from your clit to press on your stomach

It's with that that he feels you constrict around him and he can finally pull out and let go all over your stomach. Sticky cum webs its way onto your pretty skin and he admires it before collapsing next to you.

Silence settles over the room as you both catch your breath. He smiles when he feels you press your still naked, sweat body against his side.

"Thank you, Coryo." You mumble, burying your face in his neck.

"For what?" He asks. You should know you don't have to thank him for sex, after all, he enjoyed it just as much as you did

"For staying with me."

Coriolanus smiles to himself as he reaches over to press a warm kiss to your forehead. You truly were the perfect one for him, no one else compares.

"You're all mine, darling. I'm not going anywhere."

This is the final part of the Blank Space series. Thank you for reading! If you want more I suggest checking out my other work It Burns For You. It is also a Coriolanus x Reader story.

This part was an absolute beast to write and If you want I'd love to read some comments on what you did or didn't like about it.

Also, I am starting a permanent Coriolanus taglist. This means anything Coryo-related I post you'll get tagged in. If you want to be added, please message me directly.

See you in the next story!

-darknight3904

Taglist:

@katherines-imagines @stelleduarte @edb954 @blueiones @juliesjar @snowtargaryen @dangelnleif

@mrstrangeglove @rey26 @jackchampionwhore @reidsslutywaist

@marecaltrashhh @scentedprofessorbailiffstudent

@mrstrangeglove @rey26

[zepskies]

Down to the Crust

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: You’ve set out on a very specific mission for Dean. The problem is, you now have ulterior motives for your (formerly) pure love of baking.

Request: Since reading your imagine, "Dean Gives You an Impossible Choice," I have not been able to shake it, one point specifically. I was wondering if I could request a fic where the reader is learning to bake pies for Dean. She's best friends with the boys, but she and Dean have undisclosed feelings for each other…

AN: You guys know I love baking shenanigans lol. This one is set at a particular time during season 14…

Song Inspo: “Joy” by Blackstreet

Word Count: 2.6K

Tags/Warnings: Flangst, hurt/comfort, hint of spice~

No, no, no, no, NO!

You did your best to scoop out the salt you’d just poured into the flour.

You can’t really be this dumb, you berated yourself. How could you confuse one white powdery thing for another? Salt vs. sugar—it wasn’t that hard!

You shook your head in simmering frustration. You decided to just dump the whole contents of the bowl, salty flour and all, into the garbage. You’d have to start again…for the third time now. 

Frankly, this was getting ridiculous. You could make cookies, brownies, even cupcakes (with homemade buttercream).

How hard could a pie really be?

Maybe it was the telltale tremble of nerves in your hands.

Maybe it was because you had an ulterior motive for doing this, besides your formerly pure love of baking.

Maybe because this promised dessert was for one pie-loving glutton who was set to come upstairs from the garage any minute. Or at least, whenever Dean’s stomach finally called him back to the kitchen.

Though recently, he hadn’t been all that hungry. He’d denied your friendly offer of a snack earlier (since when did he turn down taquitos?), and he’d barely touched the pizza you guys had for dinner yesterday. (One slice? The man could eat half a pizza in one sitting. To your knowledge, there wasn’t a pie he didn’t like.)

Dean hid it well, but he wasn’t on his game. You knew why, of course, but…

You sighed and measured out the last of your flour for a fresh try. If you messed this one up, you’d literally have to wash your hands of this mission. And yes, it had become mission fucking impossible, as far as you were concerned.

Once the flour was safely mixed with a cup of sugar, you cut up some chilled butter to create the pastry dough. You followed the instructions in the recipe even more carefully this time, from your open laptop on the kitchen counter. The keyboard was dusted with flour at this point, along with your hands and arms. You even felt it under your nails and in your hair, but you didn’t care.

You were going to make this damn pie if it killed you.

You’d even bought real cherries, not the canned filling. It meant more work for you in removing all the pits inside them, but this was worth the extra labor.

However, as it just occurred to you, you’d left them simmering with some sugar, lemon juice, and cornstarch in a pan, around the time of your second attempt at pastry dough.

“No!” you gasped, hastening to open the lid and checking the saucepan.

Oh, thank God, you thought, seeing that the cherry filling wasn’t bubbling over. It actually looked like the proper thickened consistency and smelled delicious. You just needed to do some more stirring.

An hour or so later, you had successfully shaped the dough, chilled and poured in the filling, and covered it with the (embarrassingly uneven) lattice work on top.

“Whatever. The man still believes in the Five-Second Rule. He’ll eat this,” you muttered as you slid the pie in. You even remembered to do an egg wash on top. You admired it for a moment in its raw pastry form, then closed the lid to the oven with a nod of satisfaction.

You wore a wide smile, feeling accomplished, until you turned around and saw the disaster you’d made of the kitchen. Flour was dusted across the counters, a pile of dishes in the sink, cherry remnants in the pan and dripping across the stove, and so much more. You winced at the sight.

“What the hell is this?” came a gruff voice.

Your gaze drew to the doorway with a sharp intake of breath. Dean was standing in the doorway to the kitchen with a bewildered expression on his face.

The man had a thing about people in “his kitchen.” You got ready to placate him with your hands raised as you took a step towards him, but then you gasped.

“Shit!” you yelped, slipping in some egg that had dropped on the floor. Your hand accidentally banged the oven on the way down, but your head also hit the corner of the wall.   

You ended up sprawled on your side across the dirty floor, dazed and winded. Dean hurried to your side with one of those frowns that always made you want to smooth the wrinkle between his brows.

He braced your shoulder, almost but not quite touching your hip with his free hand.

“Damn. You okay? This ain’t a slip n’ slide,” he said.

Your lips twitched at a smile, but you sighed. “I’m okay.”

“You hit your head?” he asked, beginning to help you up slowly.

“A little,” you admitted. “Nothing the old bag of frozen carrots in the freezer won’t cure.”

Dean grimaced, but after he made sure you were settled on your feet, he checked the back of your head. You tried not to blush (and revel) at the feeling of his fingers slipping into your hair, even if he was trying to feel for a knot back there.

He was close enough that you could almost feel his body heat through the black shirt he wore, for once without the outer layer of plaid. He smelled like grease and sweat; likely he’d been working on Baby.

Were you weird for kind of liking that smell?

“Well, I don’t feel any goose eggs, so you’re probably fine,” he remarked.

“Thanks, House. Is that your final prognosis?” you asked, beginning to smirk.

Dean’s gaze met yours in amusement.

“Tell you what,” he said, “If you get a headache, I give you full permission to take one of the fun little pills I’ve got in my dresser.”

You laughed. “If it’s not Vicodin, I don’t want it.”

House M.D. was one of those shows you and Dean liked to watch together, along with Game of Thrones, and even Smallville, on occasion.

Dean smiled slightly. But even that was a small feat, and something you hadn’t seen from him in weeks. Not a real smile, anyway. Before today, nothing you’d tried had been working to brighten his mood.

Not pizza Fridays. Not letting him listen to the same damn Zeppelin album without complaint for that eight-hour ride on the last hunt. Not trying to gouge his level of broodiness and offering to hang out, to be a listening ear if he needed it.

He still hadn’t taken you up on the last one. While that hurt, you also understood it. You understood how Dean dealt with things he didn’t want to think about, let alone talk about, even to his own brother.  

Dean now looked down on you knowingly, gesturing at the rest of the kitchen.

“You gonna tell me what you’re doing in here?” he asked.

You crossed your arms and raised your chin, a smile playing on your lips.

“What, can’t handle somebody else in your kitchen? What’re you, Gordon Ramsey?” you teased.

Dean’s brows kicked up, his lips twitching.

“You’ve made a mess of my kitchen any number of times, but I ain’t ever smelled sweet, sweet cherry coming out of that oven,” he said. “You’re finally making me pie?”

You had to laugh. Inside, you were pleased that he now looked excited, his green eyes dancing. You clapped your hands over his arms.

“Yes, I’m making you your damn pie. Only took me fifteen tries, but it’s happening,” you said. You turned to check on it, but the second you opened the oven, black smoke billowed out.

Your eyes widened in horror and your mouth fell open on reflex, but harsh coughs tore from your throat as you waved your hand against the smoke. Dean quickly handed you the oven mitts, and you shoved them on before taking out the steaming dessert.

The entire top crust was scorched black. Cherry filling oozed out, and not in a good way. You slammed the oven shut with your hip, and you had to toss the pan onto the counter for how hot it was.

Inside that pan was a dreadful excuse for a pie.

Dean had an arm crossed under his elbow, while a hand came up to cover his mouth as he took in the state of it. He then looked over at you.

He saw the shock, settling into pursed lips and tight shoulders. You turned in slow movements.

You saw that the oven had been switched to “Broil” on the highest setting. You’d probably messed that up when you fell and hit the dial with your hand. But Christ, was that a powerful oven.

Those old white guys really didn't mess around when they built this damn bunker, you thought sourly.

Dean took another look at the steaming pie and grimaced, despite his amusement.

“Well, she won’t be entering any beauty pageants, that’s for sure,” he teased.

His playful smirk fell, however, the moment you turned around. He saw the way you were biting your lip, and the tears brimming in your eyes.

He softened, and he went to you.

“Aww, sweetheart. It’s okay,” he chuckled, and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “‘S probably better than I could do.”

You rested your head against his chest and sniffled. You blinked to try to stem off your tears. 

“It’s not about the damn pie! I mean, not really. It’s just…” you trailed.

You quieted, realizing you were about to say things you’d rather not.

Dean noticed though. Because of course he did.

“Then what’s it about?” he asked.

You avoided his gaze at first, though he was too perceptive not to notice. He jostled you a little against his side.

“Huh? You wanna answer me?” he asked. His lips curved at the way you were fighting a smile yourself. Your tears won out though.

You turned under his arm and leaned up on your toes, so you could hug him. Your arms twined around his neck and you held him tight.

To say it surprised Dean would be an understatement, his eyes widening a fraction. He still held you back, almost on reflex.

“I couldn’t do anything else,” you said, through tears. “Not for you, or Sam…or for Mary.”

Dean’s confusion descended into grim understanding. A weight fell deep in his gut, clenching painfully the way it always did, when he thought about his mom.

The fact that Jack didn’t have his soul didn’t make a difference, no matter what Sam said. Not in Dean’s mind, anyway.

Jack had killed their mom.

She was gone, had been taken from them. And that second loss had torn a new chasm in Dean’s heart, deeper than the last one. He held you a bit tighter without realizing it.

“I’m sorry,” you said, rubbing his back. “I know you don’t want to talk about it. I just wanted to…to do something for you.”

Slowly, Dean pulled away a little. His hands moved to your waist as he looked down on you with a heaviness in his eyes. For a moment, he just took in the contours of your face, your eyes shining with tears that clung to your lashes. You were looking up at him like all you wanted to do was fix it. And fix him.

Well, you had to know that was a lost fucking cause. But it just didn’t stop you from staying here with him and Sam, living with them, hunting with them, being one of the last friends they had, after all these years.

It didn’t stop Dean from loving you for it, either.

He let out a breath, and he couldn’t help but raise a hand to get some of the flour off your cheek. He smoothed the back of his hand against your skin, along your jaw, and finally brushed his thumb across your lower lip, where you had worried it with your teeth.

“You’re too damn much, you know that?” he murmured.

You were blushing hot at his touch, but you frowned at his words. Until you noticed the fond glint in his eyes…and for the first time, something more. Something he was finally allowing you to see.

When he bent down and claimed your lips, your thoughts stuttered to a halt. You gripped the front of his shirt instinctively. He framed your face with his hands; they were calloused and smelled like motor oil, but you didn’t give a shit. Not one iota. Because it meant something, and your heart swelled with a warmer, brighter feeling.

You gripped his shirt tighter and leaned up to meet his second kiss. His hand moved to your lower back, pulling you flush against him. You grabbed onto his shoulders and let him invade your mouth with his warm tongue slipping against yours. You moaned, the sound echoing between you both and shooting right to his dick.

His brows furrowing, Dean’s fingers slipped into your hair again, but this time, to tangle in the strands. He walked you back until your ass hit the counter, where he grabbed hold of your thighs and hefted you on top of it, regardless of whatever stains covered its surface.

He moved in between your jean-clad thighs and encouraged you wordlessly to wrap them around his hips. You didn’t need much encouragement.

“Dean,” you whispered, between heated kisses, hands wandering down your body, exploring soft curves and warmth over clothing.

“Hmm?” he said, into your mouth. It was distracting, but you found the strength to slow things down, gently taking his face into your hands.

You both caught your breath for a moment. It allowed Dean to see the thread of uncertainty in your gaze, even though you caressed his stubble-covered cheeks.

“I just…do you…is this…” you tried, but your brain seemed to be on a short fuse. You blamed his sinful lips entirely.

Said lips drew into a smirk. Dean’s hands moved up your thighs and held your waist less gripping, more comforting (and claiming).

“I really do, and damn straight it is,” he said, slightly teasing. He did lean back in to press a gentler kiss to your lips.

“Trust me,” he said, as he became more serious. “If you want more from this…”

At that, your uncertainty melted into warmth. You released his face, holding onto his shoulders instead.

“Yeah, Dean,” you nodded. “More than anything, yes.”

He read your sincerity, and it warmed him too. Again, he gave into the urge to brush his thumb against your blushing cheek.

“I uh…I had a feeling it was always gonna be you,” he said.

You raised a brow at that, even though your smile threatened to unravel him further.

“Oh, yeah? How long?” you asked.

Dean pretended to think.

“Since that first batch of oatmeal cream pies,” he said, with a cheeky grin. “Pretty sure I was marked from there on out.”

And not just because he’d been imagining what you’d be like to taste, ever since.

You giggled, though you gestured with your eyes at the charred pan next to you on the counter.

“Guess I should try again on that pie. Wonder what that’ll get me,” you hedged, letting your thumb graze his neck. Dean smirked.

“All right, sure. Remind me to pick up a new fire extinguisher,” he said.

You guffawed and hit his shoulder, but he just laughed and pulled you in for another kiss.

It was sweet enough on its own.

AN: I know, I know. I'm a sap. 😂 Let me know what you thought of this pie-filled episode! 🥧 💕

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Dean Winchester One-Shots

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean W. Tag List:

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms

@foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373

@this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma

@iprobablyshipit91 @melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy

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@chernayawidow @mimaria420 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse

[teabutmakeitazure]

Coincidental Smiles and Hard Working Humour

How the Yan Genshin boys react to a genuine laugh from you and try to dig for more

Characters included: Childe, Diluc, Zhongli, alhaitham, Pantalone

------

Childe: Going to the kitchen first thing after waking up and seeing him half covered in flour with his hair ruffled up like he just got hit by electro did wonders on your brain. The sight of him disheveled and disorderly had made you chuckle, the bubbles of laughter slowly turning into giggles. Childe watches you with eyes as wide as saucers as he remains frozen where he stands, saucepan in hand. The sound of your laughter echoes in the kitchen, and you briefly clutch your stomach during your unguarded moment. Watching you pour out such joyous sounds makes Childe's brain hyperactive and he tries his best to get into circumstances similar to that. He messes up his shirt's buttons and goes to you, asking you to fix them for him. He purposely lets his hair dry all weird so that you could see how funny it looks. He even goes to the length to make up some puns in his head, but that horribly backfires when you mockingly gag. Childe tries his absolute best to make you laugh again all the while going to sleep with the memory of that heavenly sound replaying in his head over and over again.

Diluc: Dawn Winery is no stranger to nature. There's crystalflies, grapes, carrots, potatoes, the occasional boars and your favourite, the resident cats. Having recently befriended a mother and her three kittens, you often sneak out to the vineyard to find them. Diluc is obviously aware of the little rendezvous that frequently occurs but takes no action since, well, you come back inside out of fear anyway. Plus, the staff in the vicinity always keeps a close eye and Diluc himself, when at home, watches. So when he hears you giggle from around the corner as he hides in the shadow of the estate wall, he is enchanted. Not because he's never heard you laugh before, no no. It's because of how genuine it is. He peaks out of curiosity and sees three kittens climbing on top of you with different angles all the while one licks your cheek. More sounds of laughter from you put Diluc in a kind of spell, and he finds himself slowly taking steps towards you. Naturally, blood drains from your face when you see him towering over you. Diluc feels guilty when you go as silent as a mouse, but ends up bringing the cats inside to dig up more smiles from you. Can't say competing with them for your attention was easy but hey, it's a small price to pay.

Zhongli: The harbour is bustling with business during the evening hours. Working people leaving for home and grabbing necessities on the way back and children playing by the docks during the rush hours just to hurry back home when it gets dark. While the ex archon thought you would be interested in shopping, it seemed that the youngsters of Liyue Harbour had been your point of interest all along. You had slipped away when he was analysing which hairstick would suit you better, and though Zhongli would usually be worried, he is aware that there's no place you may run off to. Thus, him being perfectly fine with you roaming about. However, had Zhongli known that you would be engaging the children in different games with so much laughter and joy, he would have let you go sooner. As he stood there, watching with a smile, only one thought crossed his mind. Perhaps you would display the same joy if you had children of your own, right?

Alhaitham: The Akademiya can be... ruthless, even for the feeble scholar. The other day, alhaitham, absolutely sleep deprived, had fallen asleep while drinking his morning coffee and while he would have thought that you'd leave him be, you actually took the mug from his hand and placed it on the counter to avoid any spills. Alhaitham's lack of sleep haunted him for a few more days and on one fine morning had fallen asleep while doing paperwork. Being someone who avoids his attentive stare in the mornings, it had been a few hours later that you had exited the bedroom for breakfast. It would certainly not be an exaggeration to claim that seeing the acting grand sage sleeping on the sofa with his coffee mug empty and the beverage spilled onto the floor is in any way, shape or form reassuring for Sumeru's future. However, catching sight of the little amount of drool spilling from his lips had caused you to erupt into a fit of giggles, waking up the sleeping man. Maybe you should atone for your transgression with offering yourself as a pillow.

Pantalone: The Regrator's job is a stressful one. There are idiots of all types present everywhere and are far too much of a nuisance. Pantalone had summoned you into his home office in an attempt to catch a well deserved break from being hunched over paperwork, but when you had walked in, he didn't even so much as look up from his desk, scowling at the papers haphazardly scattered about. Having to witness such a stoic and composed man scowling and glaring at papers all the while muttering something about 'buffoons' and 'imbeciles' had made you stop in your tracks, suppressing a smile. It was when he had made a disgusted face before grabbing an abacus that you couldn't hold in a chuckle. The sound morphs into laughter, and Pantalone freezes on the spot, head slowly rising to look at you. Seems like today is a blessed day.

[hgfictionwriter]

Self Control: Part Ten - Setback

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie suffers an injury during a game and has to navigate balancing her recovery and caring for you. She feels helpless as she tries to step up for you, but can't the way she wants to.

Warnings: Language. Slight angst.

A/N: Inspired by poor Jessie's injury during the Olympics. And everyone please knock on wood I'm not putting some bad mojo out there with this. Oh, and in this world Janine is still a Thorn 🙏 Rest of the series is here.

"-and Fleming is down. Oh, that looked like a hard hit. She's moving, but she's not getting up."

Football was a physical sport. She'd seen far too many friends ushered off the pitch to never fully, or sometimes even ever, return. She'd been extraordinarily lucky that she'd been more or less injury-free her career. However, sometimes she did take a few knocks.

Normally, she was most worried about the team anytime she was injured; that she was letting them down. But as you held her hand while she sat on the examination table in the medical assessment room, your eyes filled with concern and worry - at least for the short amounts of time she could manage to look at you; even with dimmed lights it was too damn bright - she felt most guilty about you.

"I'm confident we're looking at a Grade 2 concussion here," the team doctor said. "I'm not worried that we're into severe or Grade 3 territory. Y/N, I'm going to ask that you help monitor Jessie's symptoms and recovery over the next couple of weeks. If repeat vomiting occurs, extensive dizziness, or she's having prolonged confusion or headaches aren't improving, please contact me immediately."

Jessie had her eyes screwed shut. She tried to focus on her breathing and keeping herself steady as she attempted to will away the incessant pounding in her head. She opened them as the doctor finished speaking to see you nodding eagerly. Your eyes were trained on the woman before glancing back at Jessie and lifting her hand to give it a quick kiss.

"For the next couple of days - lots of rest. That means physical and mental. Very limited reading and screen time. And you're going to be really sensitive to lights and sounds, so a dark and quiet environment is best.

"Days three and four, you can start some light physical or mental activities again. Short, non-strenuous walks, for example. But listen to your body. Days five to seven, you can increase things a bit more, but-"

"We're moving in less than two weeks," Jessie interjected, wincing as she opened her eyes once more to look at the doctor. The doctor, who she knew well, gave her a look of warning, knowing where this was going.

"You should not be packing or moving furniture in two weeks," the doctor said firmly. "You can take on some light packing maybe 7-10 days from now, but carrying heavy boxes is out of the question."

Jessie shook her head and regretted it immediately, wincing sharply this time, a hand flying up to her temple as she grimaced in pain. Your hand came to her shoulder and she sat very still as she rode out a wave of pain.

"We'll hire packers," you told her sternly. "We already have movers anyway."

"No," Jessie returned stubbornly, still unable to open her eyes.

"Well, she's still coherent enough to argue with me, so I guess that's a good sign, right?" You relayed flatly to the doctor who chuckled.

"It is, actually," she said. "Y/N, you know my number. Feel free to contact me directly if you have any questions. Jessie," Jessie felt the doctor's hand on her shoulder and she slowly blinked her eyes open to face her, "behave yourself. I know you like to be busy and I know you want to take care of your fiancée, but you'll be able to get back to that much sooner if you listen to your body and to me."

"Mm," Jessie voiced noncommittally.

The doctor chuckled and spoke to you again.

"Okay, you can take her home now. And with all of this urgency I didn't even have a chance to ask how you're doing. How much longer?"

"About two months left," you answered.

"Oh my gosh. Final stretch, hey? How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," you said. Jessie peeked an eye open to see your hand subconsciously rubbing your enlarged stomach while you continued to hold her hand in your other. "She's so active." You shot Jessie a sidelong, mildly teasing glance. "And at night in particular. I blame myself for that one - I'm the night owl of the two of us, so she must be getting that from me. But yeah, some of the third trimester symptoms are certainly popping up, but truly, I can't complain too much. Or shouldn't yet anyway," you finished with a smirk.

"Well, it'll be nice to get settled in your new place before the baby comes. I'm positive you'll sort out the logistics just fine," the doctor added pointedly and Jessie knew it was for her.

"That's the plan," you said. "It shouldn't be bad. We don't have too much stuff. Most of the furniture will be new and we're just getting all of it delivered after our move-in date."

"That's great. Well, Jessie, I will be seeing you in a week for a follow-up, but Y/N, if I don't see you anytime soon, I have my fingers crossed that the rest of your pregnancy goes smoothly. Can't wait to see pictures of your little one once she's born."

The walk out to the car was slow and tedious. Jessie tried to walk casually and easily, dismissing your supportive arm and wanting to walk on her own, but ended up bracing herself against a random car only ten feet in as she became disoriented. Your arms were around her in a second.

"Baby, come on. Don't be so stubborn. Put your arm around me," you told her both tenderly and firmly. Despite the medication the doctor gave her, her head was still pounding and she had to relent.

She was filled with self-contempt as you eased her into the passenger seat and gently closed the door, wary of both the jostling and sound.

"My baby," you cooed after you climbed in and were settled. You rubbed her thigh and placed the cold compress the doctor had given you into her hand. "Here, hold this against you. It'll help."

"I hate this," Jessie said, voice shuddering against her will.

"I know, love," you said gently. "Let's be grateful it's nothing more severe. I know that doesn't help you in this moment though. Let's get you home, alright?"

She opened her eyes to look at you. Your bump was nearly pressed against the wheel at this stage in your pregnancy.

Jessie sniffled and rubbed her face in aggravation. You shouldn't be taking care of her. You shouldn't be worrying about her. It should be the other way around.

Though you drove as steadily as you could the whole way home, even the slightest jostling or bumps sent pain through her. She gripped the seat tightly and breathed heavily as she fought off a persistent wave of nausea.

She leaned heavily on you despite herself as you both walked up to the apartment. You'd found a hat of hers in the trunk and put it on her to block out some of the lights she'd encounter on the journey up. She apologized repeatedly throughout the walk and you tutted in disapproval and shushed her.

You put her to bed and Jessie began sniffling again as emotions began to bubble up once more as she watched you going all around the apartment to get her set up and cared for.

At one point you were in digging through one of the bottom drawers in the bathroom for something. You held onto the counter with one hand to balance yourself and you huffed in exertion, your stomach very much in the way.

Jessie sat up, wanting to come over to help you. She grimaced as her head began to pound anew and her vision narrowed to a point. She swayed in bed for a second before she felt safe enough to move again. She'd only flung the covers off of herself and lowered her feet to the floor when you voice boomed from the other room.

"Jessie," your voice sharp and making her flinch. "Get back into bed," you said insistently, but much softer this time as you walked back over and gently pushed her back down. She whined and sniffled as you did so. You began to laugh and her eyes grew wide as she looked to you in disbelief.

"Why are you laughing?" Jessie asked, her voice so much weaker than she intended.

"You're being silly," you said through a residual laugh. "You're so stubborn. You were levelled onto the pitch, nearly unconscious, less than two hours ago. Please, just relax tonight. Can you do me that favour?"

"I should be helping you," she went on, her voice up an octave as she fought through emotion.

"You can help me by resting," you told her patiently. "Oh, I have to text your parents back. They're worried about you."

She really wasn't in the right state of mind, because suddenly she felt her face screw up and she began sobbing, made worse by the physical pain the action triggered inside of her.

"Jess," your tone gentle and inquiring, but clearly in shock at the sudden outburst. You sat down next to her immediately and began caressing her head. "What's going on?"

Jessie winced in pain as her shoulders shook while she cried.

"Oh my gosh," you said, underlying concern in your voice as you began to rub her back and you took her hand. "Is it your head? What can I do, baby?"

"I'm letting you down," Jessie forced out, breath hitching at the end of her sentence. "I should be taking care of you."

"Oh my God. Babe, stop that," you said gently, but urgently. "You're not letting me down at all. You take care of me all the time. You're injured. It's okay."

"I'm not a good partner," she sobbed. She heard the sound of surprise from you, but she couldn't stop herself. "I'm not around enough. And that's bad enough. And now we're having a baby? I'm never going to be around. I'm going to be an absent parent. And even if I'm here, I might be injured and you'll have to take care of us both."

"Jess. Oh my God," you said in bewilderment as you rubbed her back further. "Baby, please. None of those things are true. Take a breath."

You placed a hand on her chest, pressing firmly and somehow it immediately caused her to slow her breathing. She brought her hand to yours and clutched it tightly.

"Breathe," you said patiently. "It's going to be okay."

Within those few moments, Jessie's breathing began to normalize and she felt her pulse slow once more. She exhaled and the tightness she'd held in her brow relaxed with it.

"It's okay, baby. Just breathe," you coaxed softly as you continued to rub her back and hold your hand and hers to her chest.

Her eyes remained closed as she let you calm her. Her shoulders hitched periodically with a residual cry, but eventually, she sniffled and opened her eyes to look up at you. The room was dark, but she could still make out your features.

"I don't want to let you down," she whispered, voice still trembling as her throat tightened once more, emotions threatening to spill over once more.

"You never let me down," you told her resolutely. "Ever. And I mean that." You let those words sink in before carrying on. "You are the absolute best partner I could ever hope for."

Jessie watched quietly as you smiled, but it faltered. Looking closer she saw tears starting to form in your eyes.

"I'm serious. You know my family. My parents marriage was absolute shit. I didn't know - for a long time - that relationships could be good. That they should be. The way you love me, the way you care for me, is something I didn't even want to hope for because it seemed so impossible. And then even if it was possible, there was no way I'd find someone like that for me. That I would deserve to be loved like that."

"Babe-" Jessie went to interject, but you stopped her.

"When I tell you you're incredible, I really mean it. You're far more than I could've ever hoped or dreamed for. You show me more love and affection in a day than I felt for years at a time. I swear. So please don't ever worry about letting me down."

Jessie was sniffling now, blinking tears onto her pillow and she lifted your hand to kiss it, holding it there against her lips and clutching you tightly. She hated that you felt that way for so many years. And though she was happy that she could make you feel loved like that, it broke her heart, too. She just couldn't fathom someone not loving you wholly and completely.

You leaned down and kissed her forehead, removing your hand from her back to caress the side of her face. You chuckled lightly, speaking against her forehead.

"Short of cheating on me or having some secret family on the side, you could never let me down."

"Babe," Jessie complained, shifting her head to try to look at you. "I would never do that."

"Just saying," you said lightly as you sat back up. "That's the line. For clarity purposes - even if you fell out of love with me and chose to end things, you still wouldn't be letting me down. I'd be devastated, of course, but I would respect that and still love you."

"Babe," Jessie started whimpering again and you consoled her.

"Okay, okay," you placated. "Last thing. Yes, you travel. Yes, you'll be away sometimes. And yes, it is possible that you could get injured again. But that's okay. Of course, I don't want you to get injured, but because I love you. You need to understand that we're partners. We take care of each other.

"And lots of parents travel for work. I know you sometimes forget, but I'm pretty independent and I'm capable," you smirked. "Plus, we have lots of support in case I or our daughter need anything while you're away. What stands out most to me is our daughter will grow up seeing her mom pursue what she loves, working hard to be the best as what she does, and inspiring a new generation of players. That means so much and I wouldn't change it."

You laid another kiss on her forehead. "Get some rest, baby. I love you so much. I'm going to take care of a few things, but I'll be back soon and we can lay together, okay?"

She gave a faint noise of acceptance and you rose from the bed, pushing off slowly, now having to lean back and get your balance to counter the weight of the baby. Jessie's hand shot out to brace your back, and though you delivered a stare her way after you were steady, it dissolved into a smirk.

"See? You're still helping me."

------

The week dragged on so horribly slowly for Jessie. She was so frustrated and upset with herself. She would've always wanted to be able to get up and go, do things, but especially now. You’d taken over essentially all of the household chores and errands and she felt exponentially guilty.

One day you came home, shuffling through the door with bags of groceries hanging off your arms. Jessie shot up off the couch to help you, but her vision began to peter out. She paused a few steps in to brace herself against a nearby chair.

"Jessie," you chided.

She could hear you putting down the various bags. And she pre-emptively put up her hands in defense. "I'm fine." When she opened her eyes again, she was met with a disapproving look from you. She dropped your gaze immediately.

"Sit down, please," you instructed.

"I can help you put everything away," she insisted as she tried to push past you, only to have you hold her back.

"Jess," your voice was curt and she knew you meant business. She could feel your gaze burning into the back of her head and she forced herself to look at you. You went on softer this time. "I'm sure you could help me with groceries. But I'm fine. Honestly. You can help me most by doing as your doctor said, and taking it easy."

She was contemplating a rebuttal, which you saw it coming from a mile away and you continued.

"Don't make me resort to tactics of emotional warfare," you said sarcastically and Jessie huffed, recalling how you told her the other day that the more you had to wrangle her, the more your daughter kicked and squirmed and tired her out.

Jessie sighed begrudgingly and collapsed into the couch, an instant pang shooting through her head at the jarring motion. Served her right for being petulant, she thought ruefully. Despite her antics, she felt your hand caress the side of her head.

"It's like a preview into parenting," you joked before kissing her head and returning to the groceries. Jessie opened her eyes and glared at your retreating form.

"Yeah? Are you going to threaten our kid with guilt trips, too?" She'd meant it as a bit of a snide joke, but immediately regretted her words as soon as she'd said them. Your movements stilled and you slowly turned back to face her, your expression one that made Jessie sink further into her seat.

"Do not start with me, Jessica."

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "That was uncalled for."

"You're still injured. A brain injury at that," you replied as you went back to the bags before giving her a pointed look. "I'll chalk it up to that. You get one freebie."

Jessie was silent as she watched you work. Your movements were laboured at times and she see how much effort it took to do certain tasks. Still, it was true, you managed just fine.

When you were finished, you returned to the living room and sat heavily next to her, a sigh of relief on your lips as you leaned back. You were short of breath, and Jessie looked away quickly when you felt her watchful gaze and peeked open at eye at her. You held out a hand, gesturing for her to relax.

"She's pushing against my diaphragm; it's making it harder to breath, it's not a big deal," you reassured her pre-emptively. You placed your hands on the cushions and pushed yourself up to sit straighter before you met her eyes again. You took her hand.

"I know you want to help. But you have to pace yourself. You can't spring up and sprint over, or you can't be up and down trying to pack and lift things. Not right now. You know better than that," you said gently.

"I already texted Janine and Kelli about packing. They agreed to come over tomorrow," she pouted, spurred on by another failed attempt of hers yesterday. You sighed and kissed her cheek.

"Thank you for doing that. I feel much better about that approach," you told her.

"I'm sorry," Jessie said, fingers fidgeting as she remained slumped on the couch. She sat up and gave you a hopeful look. "I'm feeling better every day, though. I'll be able to help out a lot more around the house soon."

You gave her a patient look and cupped her face in your hands.

"I'm pregnant - not infirm. Did you know...there are thousands of women, for one reason or another, who do this alone? I am very, very lucky that I have you and you’ve been so attentive and wonderful. But there are many women who manage all by themselves. I can do the same - not even, actually, since you’re still here and supportive - for a couple of weeks."

Despite your words of reassurance, Jessie's face fell and she snuggled into you, resting her head on your shoulder. She frowned as she felt your body jostle with a soft chuckle as you wrapped your arms around her. You kissed the crown of her head.

"My sweet baby," you chuckled further against her though she groaned. "Don't worry. A few weeks from now when I'm complaining 24/7 and can barely get out of bed, you'll be relishing these moments."

--------

True to their word, the next day Kelli and Janine were over and were making serious progress on packing up the apartment under Jessie's and your watchful eye.

Despite their help, it was a struggle for Jessie. She was very particular about things like this and she wanted things packed up and organized in specific order and way. With some coaching from you, she'd had to let some of that go, but it wasn't easy.

She and you packed up the lighter things, but anything heavy, and particular full boxes, were left to the girls. And what upset her even more was that she was having trouble focusing. Between all of the lights - clearly, none of you could pack in the dark - and physical exertion, she found herself having to take more breaks than she liked and you'd had to take over quite a bit in directing the girls.

Still, when she was able to, she tried.

"Oh, that needs to go over here," Jessie interrupted as Kelli was setting down a box in the obviously wrong pile. Kelli rolled her eyes good-naturedly and picked up the box once more with a heaving motion, balancing it against her thigh as she adjusted her grip before moving it to the appropriate area.

"Better, princess?" She asked, eliciting a scowl out of Jessie. She knew Kelli was just joking, but it was grating on her. Kelli called her that a few times now, along with a couple of other cracks in that vein.

Her friends, throughout her entire life, had always loved teasing her. Maybe it was the way she blushed when she got flustered or worked up, but people just seemed to love poking at her. Normally, she took it in stride, but it was hard to laugh them off today.

She had all of this mapped out and was fully ready to tackle it alone. Did Kelli think she wanted to ask them for help? No. She hated it.

You were supposed to have your feet up without a worry while she took care of it all. Instead, you were on your feet, packing alongside them and doing more than your fair share of directing and corralling. She saw how you stood there, a hand on your back as you caught your breath, a veiled wince now and then. She could see how sore and tired you were getting.

Her stare followed Kelli as she bounded back over to Janine to gather up some more items. Jessie could feel the heavy tension between her shoulder blades and she felt her face and ears growing hot. She took a steadying breath, she knew this feeling; if she wasn't careful she'd be blinking back tears soon.

She released a slow, deep breath as she returned her attention to the box in front of her and labelled it accordingly. She was setting down the marker when out of the corner of her eye she caught you waving Kelli over. She watched as you spoke in a hushed tone to her and nodded to the other room.

Jessie frowned as she watched you two retreat. Something seemed off, confirmed when you partially closed the door behind you. Jessie quietly padded over and held her ear close to the opening. She whipped her head around, gritting her teeth momentarily at the way the sudden motion aggravated her symptoms, when she felt Janine sneak up, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"What's going on?" Janine mouthed, ever curious. Jessie shrugged the girl's hand off her shoulder tempermentally.

"I don't know," she mouthed back with a mild glare. Janine rolled her eyes and they both leaned in.

"-I appreciate your help. I know you don't have to be doing this. But you need to stop making jokes. She already feels bad enough. She doesn't need you making cracks at her expense. She wouldn't do that to you if situations were reversed. So stop. Please."

Jessie's stomach sank. Now you were defending her as well. She went to push the door open, but Janine pulled her back and away, well out of earshot.

"Let it go," Janine told her.

The emotions Jessie had been working to keep at bay just minutes ago were now raging forward. Her ears were burning and she sniffled.

"Jess," Janine warned her with underlying care in her voice. She knew the last thing Jessie would want right now is to have an emotional meltdown. Janine placed her hands on Jessie's shoulders and spoke calmly, but firmly. "It's fine. Nothing to get worked up about. Y/N loves you a ton. She's being a mama bear to you right now. And fair enough. You're not feeling well, so she's looking out for you. Kelli's a big girl. She'll get it. She'll be fine."

Jessie sniffled and folded her arms against herself.

"It just sucks," she said as she worked to regain her composure.

"I know," Janine said as she patted her on the shoulder. "You'll be all better soon though. Take it easy on yourself." She smirked. "Y/N said you were planning to paint a few rooms in the new place a couple weeks from now. You're on your own for that."

Although she fought it, Jessie had to laugh. She was about to comment when she noticed the door open behind Janine and you and Kelli stepped out. She studied you both and to her surprise nothing seemed odd.

Janine followed her gaze and looked back at her with a wink before going back to help Kelli, who, at least as far as Jessie could see, was in fine spirits.

You must've noticed Jessie's behaviour because you soon approached.

"Everything okay, babe?" You asked.

She looked to you, her gaze eventually falling to your rounded stomach. She placed her hands on your pronounced bump and ran a thumb lovingly along it before lifting her gaze back up to you and all of the boxes around; a physical manifestation of the new chapter you both were starting together. She smiled at you.

"Yeah. Everything's good."

[matty-bear]

The Elevator Game Gone Wrong [M.S]

type: fic! 

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings: long , sfw , fluffy , paranormal activity , hint of getting an attachment (wink wink) , elevators , ritual run through 

summary: as you and the triplets join sam and colby in investigating the most haunted hotel in texas , the two ghost hunters suggest that Matt participates in a ritual called The Elevator Game . little did everyone know that the ritual would actually work and your boyfriend would get stuck in another part of existence . 

notes: i HAD to write a fic based off the SnC x sturniolo collab . n when I found that the sam n colby made matt do this ritual , i knew i had to write a fic based off it :3 hope you guys enjoy reading part one ! be on the lookout for part two <3 

WC: 7098

PT2

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Is the red light really necessary?” Nick asks, a single eyebrow raising as he watches Sam turn on a large red light and set it behind the camera propped up in front of them. 

“It adds a more dramatic effect to the video.” Sam shrugs, taking a few steps back to check if the light is fine in the viewfinder. 

“Well it looks rather terrifying in here so good job guys.” You say, holding up two thumbs up as a small smile spreads across your lips. 

“We try.” Colby smiles, shrugging his shoulders a little before he leans back against his arms on his spot on the mattress. 

“You guys ready to start?” Sam asks as he adverts his gaze from the camera to you and the triplets. 

“We were born ready.” Chris replies, a determined expression clear on his face as he nods faintly. Sam takes a quick glance over at Colby and waits for the male to give him a thumbs up before turning back towards the camera. Without warning, a spew of random sounds spill out of Sam’s mouth as he waves his arms about. Colby follows suit with the random shenanigan and you and the triplets laugh softly at the two before their actions come to a quick halt. 

“It is ritual time.” Sam states as he clasps his hands together and glances over at all of you. 

“Yay.” Nick says, his voice monotone as he wipes his mouth with his hand. 

“Love the sound of that.” Matt comments, earning a small laugh from his two brothers. 

“We are going to do something that we’ve never done before on this channel.” Sam starts, his tone nothing but serious as Nick and Chris let out small shouts of excitement. “We are going to be doing something called The Elevator Game.” 

As Matt and Nick begin to clap softly, Chris speaks up. “That sounds like a very pleasing game to partake in.” The male jokes, earning a small snicker from you as you clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle your laughter. 

“You guys said you love elevators, right?” 

“Big fans.” Nick replies with a small smile. 

“I hate elevators.” Matt states, his comment drawing laughter from the four other boys in the room.  

“Perfect!” As you take a quick glance over at Matt, Sam clears his throat for a moment before he continues, “That is very interesting because for this ritual, we need a singular volunteer.” 

As Sam slowly looks over and locks eyes with Matt, the rest of the boys look over at the middle triplet with large smiles visible on their lips. 

“Yes Matt!” Nick exclaims as he lightly nudges the said male's leg with his knee. 

Chris reaches behind you to land a singular hand on the older’s shoulder. “Do you wanna volunteer or should we just rule you in?” The male asks as he pats his brother’s back a few times. 

As you lean forward and take in a proper look at your boyfriend, a nervous expression can be seen clear as day on his face as he looks between all the boys in the room. You've known about Matt’s fear of elevators for a little while now. You knew the male would avoid them at all costs unless it was absolutely necessary. In fact, the small mishap that occurred between him and Chris about a year or so ago was the reason why this fear of his became a thing. 

During the duration of filming the collaboration with Sam and Colby, yourself and the triplets often took the elevator to travel between the different floors of the hotel you guys were investigating in. Matt, not wanting to draw attention to himself, dragged himself to the elevator everytime you guys went to a different floor. He always stayed in the corner closest to the door, being ready to exit the moment anything suspicious started happening. 

Speaking of which, when the small malfunction in the elevator occurred when you guys and the tour guides went to go to a different floor and the elevator started acting up, you immediately picked up on Matt’s anxious behavior. When Sam mentioned that someone should step out to see if the same issue with the doors would happen, Matt immediately volunteered and practically ran out of the elevator and stayed outside for a little while until you guys sorted the situation out. 

You had a feeling that Sam and Colby would ask Matt to do this Elevator Ritual when he mentioned his strong dislike for elevators. You knew that your boyfriend would immediately decline because that’s one of his fears but you also knew that the male wouldn’t wanna pass this opportunity up and seem like a pussy. 

“I’ll go on the elevator.” Matt states, earning excited shouts from all the boys, more specifically Sam and Colby. You raise an eyebrow at your boyfriend when he looks over at you. The male subtly takes your hand in his and squeezes your hand three times, signifying that he’ll be alright. 

“Face that fear, Matt.” Chris says as he gently claps his hands together, a proud smile visible on his lips. 

“So that means that Matt and I are going to go into the elevator and go through all 13 floors.” Sam says, his voice low as he looks over at the said male who sends him a little smile. 

“That sounds wonderful.” Nick comments as he nods his head and gently pats Matt’s knee. 

“Then you guys can stay in the lobby and be with-“ 

“Samantha!” Colby shouts, accidentally cutting the blonde off. 

“Yes, Daddy Driskill and Samantha will be accompanying you guys while we do the ritual.” Sam nods, earning excited shouts from Nick and Chris. 

“Yes! The big D!” Nick exclaims, excitement running through his veins as he claps a few times. 

“I am going to explain the rules of The Elevator Game now.” Sam says as he looks straight into the camera. “Now, since the game is a summoning ritual, it is said to, if it works, take us to another plane of existence. I don’t exactly know if that will happen but it’s worth a shot.” 

“Oh my God… That’s not terrifying at all.” Chris jokes as he lands a few playful pokes on Matt’s back. “You better be ready, kid.” 

“Also very important note, there is a chance that we may never come back.” Sam adds, earning shocked exclamations from you and the triplets.

“Isn’t that lovely.” You say as you subconsciously begin to trace circles on the back of Matt’s hand with your thumb. 

“Right? We might never come back.” 

“Chris, I think that’s a sign that you and I should get our license. Who the hell is gonna drive us around if Matt doesn’t come back?” Nick asks, leaning forwards a little to lock eyes with Chris. 

“Shit, you're right.” Chris mumbles, a single hand coming up to rub the side of his face. “Matt, please come back after you do the ritual. I really dont wanna have the responsibility of doing all the laundry.” 

“As long as you guys don’t jinx me, I'm sure I’ll be perfectly fine.” Matt reassures as he lands a soft hit to Chris’ back. 

“I agree with Matt. You guys can’t jinx us.” Sam says as he points a single finger towards all of you, causing you guys to all stick y’all’s hands up in defense. “Anyways, onto the rules.” The blonde digs in his pocket to fish his phone out. After unlocking the device, he pulls up the rules and instructions of the ritual. “So. We are going to have to push a series of buttons and make sure that no one else gets onto the elevator. If the whole place has 13 floors, which this hotel does, then it will summon something on the final floor. We will start in the lobby and go to four, two, six, back to two, ten, and then five. Five is the most haunted floor and the final bit of the ritual.” 

“I love the sound of this guys. I’m so excited.” Matt says, sarcasm laced in his tone as looks down at his lap and uses his free hand to ruffle his hair.

“Are you regretting volunteering?” Chris asks, a small laugh escaping him as he takes in the older’s stressed state. 

“Umm..” Matt starts as he lifts his head back up and looks ahead of him. “I’d rather it be me than you to be honest.” A unison of ‘oh!’s fill the room as Chris narrows his eyes at Matt. “I feel like you would just be better in the elevator than Chris would.” Matt adverts his statement to Nick as he reaches over to his left and lightly hits the older’s arm. 

“Alrighty then. I guess that makes sense.” Chris says as he rubs the slight stubble forming on his chin. 

“You just seem to be the person that’s less fit and prepared to do this.” Nick adds, his head slightly tilting to the side as he looks over at the youngest triplet. As you stifle a laugh and cover your mouth, Chris’ jaw drops as a fake hurt expression spreads across his face. 

“We got some sibling banter over here.” Sam says to the camera as he juts his thumb towards the three brothers. “Anyways, back to the rules of the game. Once we reach the fifth floor, the door will obviously open and it is said that on this said floor, especially knowing that it's the most haunted floor, a female spirit will walk into the elevator with us. To end the ritual, we must press one and go back to where you guys are.” 

A few excited shouts fill the room as all the boys shake their fists. “However!” Sam exclaims, cutting off the shouting as he gently clasps his hands together. 

“Of course there’s a however.” Nick mumbles, earning a small laugh from Colby as the red-head crosses his arms over his abdomen. 

“Rituals can never be all cupcakes and rainbows, you know.” Sam says with a small smile before he diverts his attention back to the camera. “If the ritual is a success, the elevator won’t go to the lobby. It will go up and start ascending. If that happens, that means we’ve successfully summoned something into the elevator.” 

“Are you serious?” Colby asks, a small laugh escaping his lips as he sends the blonde a shocked expression. 

“Is that when the chance of you guys not coming back comes into play?” You ask, a worried expression spreading across your face as you look up at Sam. 

“Yes.” The blonde replies, softly nodding his head as he turns around and locks eyes with you.

“Some Willy Wonka shit is gonna happen then.” Nick jokes, trying to lighten the tense mood filling the room. It seems to work as soft laughter comes from you and the rest of the boys. “We’re just gonna hear a loud crash as the elevator flies out of the hotel.” 

“We’re just gonna be flying into the oblivion.” Sam adds as he shoots his arm up to mimic the action of the elevator flying. 

“Yeah, I will not be very happy if that happens.” Matt points a finger at Sam as the latter laughs softly. “If I get stuck in this elevator, I feel bad for Sam. That’s all ima say.” 

“Awh.” Sam chuckles lightly as he brings a hand up to his chest. “Considering the amount of mishaps we’ve had with the elevator earlier, I really hope nothing bad happens.” 

“If shit goes down after we’re done with the ritual, you guys are gonna be next.” Matt points both his pointer fingers towards Nick and Chris who hurriedly shake their heads. 

“Let’s just hope you come back first.” Nick says as he lands a hand on Matt’s shoulder. 

“They will come back, don’t worry.” Colby reassures as he looks over at Sam and gently nods his head. 

“Well, we’ll never find that out if we don’t do it. So shall we get this ritual started?” Sam asks he turns towards all you guys, a large smile visible on his lips as he rubs his hands together. 

“Hell yeah!” Chris exclaims as he slips off the mattress. 

“Let’s all head to the lobby then.” As Sam walks up to the camera to shut it off, Nick and Colby follow Chris in exiting the room. After ensuring that the males leave and that Sam is busy with the camera, you look over at Matt who’s began to fiddle with the horse chain on his neck. 

“You really wanna do this?” You whisper, your voice low as you lean in closer to your boyfriend. 

“Yeah. I’ll be fine. It’s just an elevator, right?” Matt replies as he looks over at you. As he sends you a small smile, you gently nod your head and slip off the bed. You stick your hand out to Matt, who quickly takes it and allows you to pull him up to his feet. Before following Sam out the door, you land a quick kiss on Matt’s temple before guiding him out of the room. 

༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

Upon arriving in the lobby, Sam and Colby begin to set up their equipment as you and the triplets patiently wait in front of the elevator. 

“Alright.” Sam begins as he adjusts his hold on the camera in his hand before turning it on. “Any thoughts before we start Matt?”

“Umm…” Matt starts as he begins to rock back and forth on his heels. “I have to say that the nausea I’ve been feeling for the past five minutes or so has increased significantly.” 

“You’ve been feeling nauseous?” Colby asks, adverting his focus from the camera in his hand to look over at Matt, a worried expression clear on his face as he glances over at Sam. The two ghost hunters share a worried look before Nick speaks up.

“We’ve all been feeling a little nauseous.” Nick begins as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I started feeling it when we sat down to eat, Matt started feeling it five minutes ago, y/n started feeling it when we were giving candy offerings to Samantha, and Chris felt it the second we got here.” 

“That doesn’t sound very good…” Sam says, his voice trailing off as he gestures Colby to grab something in the backpack. “Maybe we should sage you guys again before we start the ritual.” 

“Should we do it here or go outside?” Colby asks as he digs inside the backpack laying at his feet. 

“We can do it here.” Colby gently nods his head before bringing the sage out. He gestures you and the triplets to stand in a line before he quickly waves the sage around the four of you. “That should do it. If you guys keep feeling nauseous, we can take a break.” 

“We appreciate it guys.” You say with a small smile. 

“Of course. Safety comes first.” Sam says, earning a firm head nod from Colby. “Anyways, you ready to start?” Sam turns the camera to Matt and gently pats his shoulder a few times. 

“Yeah, I’m ready.” Matt replies with a gentle head nod. 

“Are you not gonna say goodbye to your siblings and girlfriend? You may never see them again if the ritual works.” Colby asks as he gestures towards you, Nick, and Chris. 

Matt turns around and sticks his arm out to Nick, who sends him a glare before hesitantly shaking his hand. 

“A hand shake?” Colby laughs softly as Nick wraps his arms around Matt and brings him in for a quick embrace. “See, that’s much better.” After pulling away, Chris and Matt share a firm handshake before also sharing a quick hug. 

“Okay, I’ll start googling places where we can get our licenses.” Nick says softly as he brings a hand up to rub his nape. 

“Dude, I’m not dead yet…” Matt says, a hurtful expression spreading across his face as he pulls away from Chris who smacks his chest a few times. 

“Yet.” Sam repeats, a small laugh escaping his lips as he watches Matt playfully shove Chris back. As the younger giggles softly, Matt turns to you, his gaze softening as he immediately brings you in for an embrace. Collective ‘awh’s come from all the boys when Matt lands a quick peck on your lips and forehead. 

“Leave your license behind before you go to another universe please.” Nick says, earning a rapid head nod from Chris. After pulling away from the hug, Matt shakes his head and digs in his pocket to pull out his wallet. As he wordlessly hands Nick his wallet, Chris comes up behind him and grabs both his shoulders. 

“I call dibs on that one jacket in your closet by the way.” Chris says, a large smile plastered on his lips as he massages the older’s shoulders. 

“Wonderful, alright. We’re all just claiming all my shit.” Matt says with a soft laugh. As the male turns to face you, he raises an eyebrow when he takes in your smiley face. “You too?” 

“I only want a few stuff.” You defend as you hold up your hand and pinch your pointer finger and thumb together. 

“Yeah, okay. Like that’s believable.” As Matt laughs and shakes his head gently, the sound of the elevator dinging causes all of you to quickly turn around. 

“What the fuck?” Colby mumbles, his face falling as he looks into the empty elevator. 

“Did you guys push anything?” Sam asks as he points a finger at you and the triplets. 

“No. Swear to God we didn’t.” Nick defends as he holds both his hands up. 

“It’s fucking midnight.” Colby states after his eyes scan over the numbers plastered on the top of his Lock Screen. He shows the camera his phone to ensure that he's telling the truth before turning the device to you and the rest of the boys. 

“I personally would not go in there.” Chris says as he wraps his arms around his torso, a nervous expression clear on his face. 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t either.” You add as you reach your hand out to grab Matt’s. 

“Well, we can’t back out now. It is twelve o’clock after all.” Sam says, a heavy exhale leaving his lips as he looks over at Colby, the two locking eyes for a moment. “I think that we should start this ritual before more weird shit happens.” 

“Please be careful.” You say, your voice firm as you look up at Matt. The male looks down at you and gently cups the side of your face with a single hand, the pad of his thumb gently caressing your cheek in hopes of calming your sudden anxiety spike. 

“We will, don’t worry.” Sam reassures as he begins to walk towards the elevator. He looks inside the small space for a moment, ensuring that nothing and no one is inside before he hesitantly steps in. “You coming?” 

Matt quickly shifts his gaze from you to Sam who’s standing at the back of the elevator. “Yeah, I'm coming.” Matt replies. Before the male enters the elevator, he bends down a little to capture his lips in yours. He pulls back after a few seconds and gently caresses your face before joining Sam in the elevator. 

“You two be safe.” Chris calls as he moves to take a stand in between you and Nick. 

“Yeah, come back please!” Nick adds as he subconsciously wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you closer to him. 

“We’ll be back, promise.” Sam reassures as he sets a small device in the middle of the elevator. 

“Wait, I need photos for the prayer cards.” Nick states, a hand quickly digging in his pocket to fish his phone out. As he opens his camera and faces it towards Matt, the male holds up a small v, practically posing for the camera. You can’t help but giggle at the sight before Nick smiles proudly and puts his phone away. 

“Alright, we’re gonna start now guys.” Sam states as he walks up a few steps, his frame being inches away from the entrance of the elevator. After looking over at Matt and gaining a firm head nod from him, the two begin the ritual. 

“Please take us to another world.” Matt and Sam say in unison. The blonde reaches over to push a button to close the elevator and takes a few steps back to stand next to Matt. At the sight of the door closing, the male shouts out a small ‘oh god!’, a mix of fear and anxiousness filling his body as he eyes the door. 

“Matt, I love you have fun.” Nick says as he makes a small heart with both his hands. Matt sends the red-head a small smile before the doors finally close. 

“I really hope nothing bad happens.” Chris mumbles as he shakes his head slightly, nervousness bubbling in him as he stares at the closed elevator doors. 

“Me too.” Colby agrees as he forces his lips together in a straight line. The male momentarily turns his back to you and the two brothers to dig inside his backpack. After a few moments of searching, he pulls out two EMF readers and holds them out in front of him. “Which one of you guys would like to have the honors in holding one?” 

“I would love to have one.” Nick says, a small smile appearing on his lips as he bounces on his heels a few times. 

“Me too.” You add, landing a hand on Nick’s shoulder as the two of you step closer to Colby. The latter gently nods his head and hands the two of you an EMF reader. 

“Okay, how should we start this?” Colby asks as he leans his backpack against the wall and focuses the camera on you three. 

“We can start walking around to see if we get anything on the EMF readers.” You suggest with a small shrug. Colby nods his head at your suggestion and gestures for you and Nick to begin walking around with his hand. 

“Wait, didn’t the tour guide say that-“ 

“Your reader is going off!” Chris exclaims, accidentally cutting his older brother off as he points to the said device with his pointer finger. The youngest triplet seems to be correct as Nick looks down at the EMF reader in his hand and sees the device light up the first three levels. 

“You got anything yet y/n?” Colby asks as he zooms the lenses into Nick’s EMF reader to capture the activity. 

“Nope. Nothing yet.” You reply softly as you begin to walk a bit further away from the group, your eyes being locked onto the device in your hand the entire time. 

“The tour guide said that the bathroom is one of the most haunted places.” Nick states as he begins to gently wave the EMF reader about, trying to get it to spike up any further. “I think we should go see if we get any activity over there.” 

“Great idea, let’s head over there. Lead the way.” Colby gently nods his head towards Nick to encourage the male to lead the group to the bathrooms. The red-head complies and begins to walk towards a hallway a little ways to the right, the three of you following close behind him. 

“Let’s see…” Nick mumbles, more to himself than to anyone else. While you and the male walk around and inside the bathrooms, ya’ll don’t get much activity apart from a few spikes that went to yellow. 

“Let’s go back to the elevator. We’re not getting much.” You say as you walk out of the women’s bathroom, the door shutting behind you and coming in contact with the heels of your shoes. 

Colby nods his head and waits for Nick to return from the male’s bathroom before you guys walk back to the elevator. The moment you stand next to the elevator, your EMF reader spikes all the way to red. 

“Mine just went to red.” You say, your voice a little louder than usual to gain the attraction of the three males in the room. 

“Holy shit.” Colby mumbles as he quickly makes his way over to you. As he zooms his lens into the device in your hand, Nick and Chris come up to the other side of you and look down at your EMF reader. “Nick, you getting anything?” 

“Mines still at yellow.” The red-head replies, momentarily turning the reader so it can face the camera before he turns it back to face him. 

“Maybe we should pull out the onvoy and see if we get anything. You know, considering how much activity we’ve been getting around here already.” Colby suggests as he walks back to his backpack and pulls it open. 

“What’s that?” Chris asks, his head tilting slightly as he watches the ghost hunger pull a device out of his bag. 

“It’s basically a device that gives us yes or no responses through questions we ask.” Colby explains as he crouches down and sets the device on the floor. After turning it on and waiting for it to light up, he looks up at the three of you who are already intently looking at him. “Something just has to physically tap it like so for us to get a response.” Colby sets his pointer finger on the device for a moment and awaits for it to beep a few times and light up yes before he pulls away.

“That doesn’t sound too difficult.” You ponder aloud as you take a momentarily glance towards the EMF reader in your hand. 

“It’s not difficult whatsoever. Would you guys like to start asking some questions?” 

“Absolutely.” Chris replies with a small smile as the three of you take a seat around the onvoy. 

“If there are any spirits that would like to communicate with us tonight, please make yourself known by using this device to answer our questions. All you have to do is come up and touch it to let us know what your thoughts are.” Colby calls out, his head turning around a few times before he turns his focus back to you and the two brothers. 

“What should we ask first?” Nick asks gently, his eyes staying fixed on the EMF reader in his hand. 

“Do you think that Sam and Matt are gonna make it back to us?” Chris asks, anxiousness laced in his tone as he practically stares down at the onvoy. A few beats of silence pass by before the device dings a few times. 

Colby lets out a small gasp of surprise at the sound and leans in close to the onvoy. “It says yes!” The male exclaims happily as he zooms the lens into the response. 

The moment the male reads that aloud, the sound of the elevator dinging alerts the four of you. Quickly, you all turn around and collectively let out sighs of relief as the doors open and reveal Sam and Matt. 

“You’re done already?” Nick asks, his mouth agape as he watches the two males step out of the elevator rather quickly. 

“Yeah, we practically flew through all the floors.” Matt replies, a small, proud smile visible on his lips as he approaches the four of you who are still sitting on the floor. When the male stands behind you, you quickly turn your body to face him, a large smile spreading across your lips, as you immediately reach for your boyfriend’s hand. As you caress it gently and bring his hand up to your lips to land a small kiss on his knuckles, Sam takes a stand next to him. 

“Did you guys get anything?” The blonde asks as he stashes the device him and Matt were using in the elevator in his pocket. 

“No.” Colby replies with a frown. “We literally asked a single question.” 

“Yeah, the one question I asked is ‘Do you think that Sam and Matt are gonna make it back to us?” Chris adds as he gets himself up from the floor and dusts his pants off a little. “The moment it said yes, the door opened.” 

“It was crazy timing.” Nick comments as he follows suit in getting up off the floor. 

“Really?” Sam asks, his jaw dropping slightly as he looks over at Colby with pure shock in his face. 

“Really.” Nick confirms with a firm head nod. “We didn’t have time to ask a bunch of questions. Chris was the only person that got to ask a question.”

“Well, Sam and I encountered no issues while we were doing the ritual. We went through all the floors with ease. However, we didn’t really get anything with the device we were using. I mean, we did get a few words but I found them to be more random than anything.” 

“Yeah, that has got to be the fastest ritual we’ve ever experienced.” Colby comments, his head gently nodding as he looks between Sam and Matt. 

“It was pretty easy, nothing too difficult.” Matt says, his gaze falling to yours and his intertwined fingers. 

“Would you like to do it again then? But by yourself this time?” Sam inquires, a single eyebrow raising as he looks over at the brunette. 

Silence fills the lobby as you all stare at Matt, awaiting for his response. You manage to catch your boyfriend’s face falling slightly as he looks over at Sam, his eyes slightly wide as he locks eyes with him. Sensing the male’s sudden anxiety spike, you begin to play with his fingers in hopes of grounding him a little. 

Matt blinks hardly a few times as he looks down at you, his eyes basically pleading for you to answer the question for him. At the brunette’s gaze, you pick your free hand up and land a soft poke on his chest, signaling that it’s his call. You watch as the male sighs before he picks his head back up and looks up at his two brothers who shrug at him. Matt forces his lips together and looks over at Sam, his right hand coming up to his nape as he locks eyes with the blonde. 

“I would- I don’t-“ Matt sputters, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he digs in the pocket of his pants. “I’d have to write down the numbers…” 

“Is that a yes then?” Sam asks, excitement glossing over his eyes as he zooms the lens onto the male in front of him. After Matt gently nods his head in response, collective shouts of encouragement sounds from you and the boys. 

“You sure you wanna do it alone?” Chris asks as he walks up to the brunette, a single hand coming up to rest it on his brother's shoulder. “The chance of you never coming back is still there. You’ll be fully alone in another universe.” At the younger’s statement, Nick lands a harsh hit on Chris’s bicep, signaling him to shut up with an intense glare. 

“Well, you guys better start looking up ways to get me back if the ritual actually works.” Matt replies, a nervous smile overtaking his features as he begins to fiddle with the horse chain around his neck. 

Colby goes to add onto the conversation however, the sound of the elevator dinging alerts all six of you. You all turn around to face the elevator, fear running through y’all’s bodies at the sight of the doors opening more slower than usual. 

“I think that’s a sign, Matt.” Sam says as he lands a hand on the said male’s shoulder. 

“I guess I’ll go then. Could you text me the numbers?” Matt asks with a soft sigh. As Sam gently nods his head and fishes his phone out of his pocket, Colby walks up to the brunette. 

“You wanna take this camera?” The ghost hunter asks as he holds the said device out in front of him. 

“Sure.” Colby sends Matt a small smile when the male hesitantly takes the camera from him. 

“Matt, please be careful. Like I'm being so for real. I have no idea what we would do without you.” Nick says, a frown overtaking his features as he walks up the middle triplet and lands both his hands on his shoulders. 

“I will, don’t worry. If you guys focus on asking questions, I will be back in no time.” Matt reassures, a comforting smile spreading across his lips as he brings the red-head in for a quick embrace. 

“Wait, me too. I want a hug as well.” Chris whines as he quickly makes his way over to the three of you. Nick pulls away with a small eye roll and steps aside to allow the younger to get his hug. 

“I sent you the numbers. You can head in when you’re ready.” Sam says, his voice soft as he picks his head up and looks over at Matt, the hand that’s holding his phone digging inside his pocket to put the said device away. 

“Word.” Matt replies. After Chris breaks away from the hug and steps back, Matt looks over at you and takes in your worried features. “I promise I’ll be alright. I’ll be back in no time.” Your boyfriend gently cups your face with his free hand, the pad of his thumb gently caressing over your soft skin. 

You gently nod your head, the faint frown on your lips not faltering as you look deep into your boyfriend’s blue irises that hold a sense of anxiousness. Matt brings your face closer to his to bring you in for a quick kiss. Before pulling away, he nibbles on your bottom lip for a moment. 

The brunette removes his hand from your face and gives you a small smile before he turns around to face Sam. “I’m ready.” The male says. 

“Alright, go ahead and step in.” Sam instructs as he gestures towards the open and empty elevator. Matt immediately does as instructed and hesitantly steps inside the elevator, a heavy sigh escaping him as he raises the hand that’s holding the camera. “You know what to say.” The blonde says with a smile as he gives the younger male a thumbs up with his free hand.  

Matt looks straight at the camera, his tongue slipping out of his mouth to drag over his slightly chapped lips momentarily, before he begins the ritual. “Please take me to another world. I may regret saying that but hey, see you guys later.” Matt takes a final glance at all of you standing a few steps away from the doors of the elevator before he steps toward the panel full of bottoms. 

“We love you Matt!” Chris exclaims, both his hands coming up to cup over his mouth to get his voice to project more loudly. 

“Be safe!” You add, sliding over to Nick and wrapping an arm around his. You manage to catch Matt waving goodbye before the doors of the elevator finally shut. 

“Guys, go subscribe to the Sturniolos.” Sam states as he turns the camera in his hand and points at it. 

“And comment about how ballsy Matt is. I’m actually so shocked about how he’s been doing this whole investigation. He’s usually never this open and talkative during stuff like this.” Nick says as he crosses his arms over his chest. 

“Yeah, I'm actually really proud of him. He's doing phenomenal.” Colby compliments as he gently claps a few times. 

“Let’s just hope he hasn’t been too open today. We don’t want him to get any-“ Sam gets cut off by Colby harshly digging his elbow into his side. The blonde winces softly and flinches at the touch, his eyes narrowing as he sends a glare towards his friend. 

“Get any what?” You ask, panic flooding in you as you take in Colby’s serious expression. 

“Nothing. We should start asking some questions before Matt comes back.” Colby replies, a small smile appearing on his lips as he turns back around. You share a worried look with Nick and Chris before the three of you, including Sam, join Colby in sitting on the floor around the onvoy. “Who would like to ask the first question?” 

“I would.” Nick says, picking his head up to lock eyes with Colby. After gaining a small head nod from the male, he takes a deep inhale before speaking, “Was sending Matt alone a good decision?” A few beats of silence pass by before the onvoy dings. Nick bends down slightly to read the response. “Yes!” 

“Will Matt find more information regarding what happened at the hotel?” Chris asks as he brings his knees up to his chest and rests his chin on them. The onvoy dings seconds after the question. “No…” 

“Alright..” You mumble. You clear your throat before asking your question, “Will someone join Matt in the elevator when he reaches the fifth floor?” Like earlier, the onvoy immediately dings as it lights up a response. “Yes. Well isn’t that nice. Doesn’t make my anxiety worse at all.” 

The boys all giggle at your statement as you rub your face with both your hands. 

“Is Matt in any danger?” Sam asks, momentarily turning the camera around to put himself in the frame before he turns it back around. Again, the onvoy immediately dings a response. You and the boys take a moment to pause and exchange anxious looks before yall lean in and read the response. 

“Yes.” 

༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

20 minutes have gone by as you and the boys took turns asking questions to the spirits willing to communicate with you guys. Some of the questions have gotten rapid responses while others have taken a little longer to reply. As time slowly ticked away, you felt anxiety bubble inside of you. Matt should’ve been back by now considering how he and Sam returned in less than 10 minutes when they did the ritual. You found yourself continuously looking over at the closed elevator everytime someone else in the group spoke up to ask a question, hoping that the doors would open and reveal your boyfriend. Unfortunately it never happened and the doors remained shut. 

“Okay, I'm getting really worried. He should be back by now.” You say, your gaze on the closed elevator doors shifting up to the number 10 glowing brightly in large, bold lettering. 

“Well, he’s on the tenth floor right now. All he has to do is go to five and come back.” Sam says as he takes a seat against the wall facing the elevator, his arms coming up to cross over his chest. 

“Okay true but what’s taking him so long?” Nick asks, a single hand coming up to his mouth. As the red-head begins to bite on his polished nails, Chris takes a glance over at your focused state. He forces his lips into a straight line, worry and anxiety filling his veins at the thought of Matt not returning. 

“He’s at five.” Colby states as he points at the glowing number atop the elevator. The rest of the boys join you and the ghost hunter in looking over at the elevator. 

“Please come back.” You whisper under your breath, a sudden lump forming in your throat as you swallow dryly. As you shakily exhale, a sudden poke on your side causes you to jump rather harshly. “What the fuck?” You mumble as you quickly hug your torso and turn around.

“What happened?” Chris asks, his head whipping around to look over at you. 

“Did one of you guys poke me?” You ask as you lift your head up. 

“None of us touched you.” Colby says as he lifts both his hands up in the air. A wave of nausea suddenly hits you as you slowly turn around to look at Sam, the sight of him looking at you worriedly causing your stomach to churn. As you go to question the blonde, soft giggles bubble up your throat as you feel a series of rapid pokes travel down your other side. After the feeling vanishes, you stumble to your feet and run over to where Nick and Chris are, fear washing over you as you desperately rub your sides to try and get the ghostly feeling away. 

“Samantha.” Sam mumbles under his breath, his eyes slightly going wide as he looks over at your panicked state. 

“Samantha, if that's you, please leave her alone. You do not have permission to touch her.” Colby states, his tone holding a sense of authority as he takes a few quick glances around the room. 

At the mention of the child’s name, Nick’s eyes widen in a mix of terror and shock and he quickly looks down at you. Without a word, he wraps his arms around your slightly shorter frame and brings you flush against him. 

“Samantha, are you messing with y/n?” Chris asks as he wraps an arm around your shoulder, his gaze falling to the unused onvoy on the floor. 

The said device immediately beeps in response. 

Colby lifts himself up from the wall he’s leaning against and walks up to the onvoy. His tall frame bends down slightly before his eyes skim over the response. 

“It says yes.” Colby says, his gaze lifting up from the device and shifting over to Sam. The two share a frightened look as you feel your heart drop to your feet. You quickly turn around and bury your face in Nick’s clothed chest, your breath beginning to pick up as you clutch onto the male’s arms rather desperately.

“It’s okay.” Nick whispers as he rests his chin on the top of your head. As he begins to rub comforting circles on your back with his palm, the sound of the elevator dinging pierces your ears. You quickly lift your head and look over at the elevator, the rest of the boys soon doing the same. 

“Matt?” You call out, your voice cracking slightly as you slip out of Nick’s hold and run to the elevator. 

“y/n wait!” Chris exclaims, his arm extending out to go to grab you and pull you back. His attempt fails however as you slip through the opening of the elevator, not even waiting for the door to fully open. The moment you step inside, you feel your breath get caught in your throat .

Matt isn’t in the elevator. 

And the only thing inside is the camera and his horse necklace. 

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· TagList ·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

@freshloveforthefit @nickuniversity @patscorner @rootbeerworshiper

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[wandasaura]

GOLD THATS IN YOUR EYES

summary — you’ve known natasha romanoff since she first defected to shield, but it’s taken you years to realize that you’ve loved her since then too

warning(s) — fluff, mentions of the ohio mission, hurt/comfort

prompt — finding excuses to be alone with each other x noticing their individual quirks

song — mood ring by kira kosarin

🌞⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰🧺꒱ 🌷 ･ mommy maximoff ✧

Natasha Romanoff was not a very sociable person, in fact, she was quite the opposite. Most people would be surprised to learn that the infamous ex assassin was admittedly somewhat of an introverted homebody, preferring the chosen silence of isolation over bustling crowds where judgment ran wild. For a woman with such a bold way about her, she was admittedly rather soft. She was soft in the way she moved around the kitchen when nobody was around to watch her frolic through cabinets on the balls of her feet, arches deep and perfect, and heels exquisitely raised above the floorboards. She was soft in the way she spoke, too. Her words were always calculated, always direct, and blunt enough to be chalked up to dry humor, but if you listened closely, if you closed your eyes and let the weight of her spoken sentence weigh on your heart in the way she’d never intended for anybody to actually do, you’d notice the soft hitch to her tone that was endearingly Russian, and the way her nose twitched whenever she wasn’t sure how a comment would be received by the masses. Natasha Romanoff was a lot of things, but an arrogant agent was not one of them; not that she’d ever admit that. 

You supposed that she felt a crippling need to assert herself as if she were in a position of calculated authority. Some could say that she was in a stance of power, having been deemed not only a level six agent but also an Avenger by time she was twenty-nine, yet even with the moniker of being the only reformed Black Widow to escape Dreykov’s grasp, Natasha was never the authoritarian she prided herself on being when others were around. Granted, you were never one to challenge the way she raised her chin when she was at the center of a room full of men, and you were never one to comment on how her shoulders squared defensively whenever someone took a step to close for comfort. She radiated confidence and certainty, but beneath all of the hurt that she had turned into defensiveness, she was merely a woman that had been wronged and burned by every bridge she’d ever dared to build. You saw her as such, she knew that you did, so maybe that was why she never tried to act that way with you. It was an unspoken mutual understanding that all bets were off when fate brought you two together. 

Natasha Romanoff played a lot of games. She liked the challenge of breaking down her opponent before they had the chance to break her down themselves, but the second anyone got too close she pulled a mask over her features and her bleeding heart became a loaded gun. You’d never met someone so guarded in your life, and yet she placed all cards face up on the table whenever she got you alone. Natasha Romanoff was not the sick and twisted woman she allowed the general public to believe she was. She woke up screaming from nightmares bi-weekly, the rasp in her gravely tone not natural but consequential. She closed her eyes whenever she washed her hands in fear of the clear water becoming red with the blood of her innocent victims. She stepped only on the tiles that she knew were silent, scared to make ripples in the water and alert attention. People who didn’t know Natasha Romanoff would say she was something similar to the atrocities that occurred beneath the midnight sky, but you would say she was the shadow of sweet flowers that disappeared after sunset. 

You noticed every miniscule detail there was to know about Natasha Romanoff, but you know that she noticed every detail about you as well. She noticed the way you avoid going out in the rain when it’s cold, and how none of your socks ever seem to match even on missions. She noticed how you migrate down to the kitchen in the ungodly hours of the morning just to bake pastries for the team to eat at breakfast, usually cinnamon rolls or blueberry muffins with a crumb coating that Wanda particularly is a fan of, but eventually, she’d unraveled that your little habit wasn’t merely because you wanted to be hospitable toward the people you fought alongside with when extraterrestrial disasters fell to earth, but rather because your mind needed something to focus on when the nightmares of human travesties became too paralyzing and suffocating to handle alone in the dark. The first time her attention to detail became apart was a gloomy day in November, the leaves not all fallen from trees but the air frigid enough to belong in a barren January day. At that point, you’d fallen into a routine of going out for a run through central park each morning, always returning with not only a coffee for yourself, but one for her as well, but with the downpour of raindrops the size of nickels, you’d chosen the lower level gym as your route that day. Natasha wasn’t much a fan of the rain, but she never minded freezing temperatures. She found you in the debriefing room that early afternoon, her hair sodden and crimped from pallets of rain that fell overhead, but in her hands were two cuts of still steaming coffee from your favorite little cafe. She’d tried to say that she was just in the area, but you knew that she had gone out of her way to assure that at least part of your morning remained unchanged throughout the storm. 

Your relationship with Natasha had been an unspoken arrangement for as many months and years as you could remember, but recently things had changed. You’d always found yourself alone in a room, two friends existing within the same space naturally, but lately even that hadn’t felt so innocently charged, and you were as much at fault as Natasha was. The Russian lingered in the kitchen just to watch as you mixed together batter for muffins that Tony would eat half of, but you hung around in the lower level gym just to hand off a water bottle when she completed her workout. Any excuse either of you could grasp onto just to spend a few uninterrupted minutes together had been abused and properly overused, but there was no admission of feelings anywhere close to the tip of your tongue. 

There were some days that passed, even now years later, where when you looked at her beneath the kitchen lights, or against the punching bags, you only ever saw the broken woman that Clint had brought in from the KGB. She’d been merely a shell of herself at that time, fiery red hair matted with knots and the blood of her targets, face smeared with dirt and gunpowder. You hadn’t been on base when she’d been dragged in wearing heavy metal shackles and dehumanizing cuffs, but Maria had filled you in on everything prevalent regarding Fury’s newest asset. It had taken you three weeks to run into her when you returned, traumatized from the loss of your team and spiraling into shallow thoughts of death and finality, but from the very first moment you’d never seen her as a threat, and she’d never seen you as the lucky survivor that walked away from a raid. Her eyes were soft, softer than the wings of a newly hatched butterfly, and when she stood beneath the sunlight on the deck of the helicarrier, accent thick and sweet like the spring breeze that carried pollen beneath its current, you’d seen the daintiest twinge of gold within the green of her eyes. Maybe it was at that moment that you’d known you wanted to spend your entire life at her side, or maybe that had come much later, but what you’d definitely realized in that first month of knowing her, was that she wasn’t as complete as she wanted everyone to assume she was. There was so much despair and longing beneath her mask of confidence and casualty, so many agonizing emotions that she’d never fully overcome. There were times where you wondered what could be missing from her life that even now, deemed a hero and residing amongst people that just wanted to do good by the world, but you always circled back to the heavy acknowledgement that aside from you and Clint, nobody truly knew Natasha Romanoff. She’d spent her entire life beneath the thumb of power hungry generals, and when she’d gotten a taste of freedom and self identification, she’d conformed to be the woman that everyone else wanted her to be. 

Some days however, you saw someone entirely different beneath her eyes that still held specks of gold when the sun fell upon her the right way. You saw a woman that was confident albeit flawed, painfully witty although reserved enough to hide within the walls when she didn’t want to be seen fully. But sometimes when you looked at her, you saw a woman yearning to love in the fullest sense of the word, and that broke your heart the most. She had never been shown unconditional love, never been held softly yet tightly, never been allowed to love back. Natasha Romanoff had been taught that love was the greatest weakness any woman could surrender herself to, and yet she was finally at a point where she wanted to experience the tragedy of loving something temporary. Death was unavoidable, she’d learned that young, but love transpired through isolation even if it never felt entirely complete again. For the first time since you’d met Natasha, she wasn’t scared to submit herself to the experience of loving someone to a fault, even though it meant she could very well lose it all tomorrow. Even if it didn’t seem like it to others, you noticed the subtle ways that she made progress as the years progressed, and each time you looked at her and saw a willingness to explore emotions rather than suppress them, you wanted nothing more than to squeeze her tight and be the one to teach her how to love. 

“Hi.” Your voice was soft, delicate as it filled the otherwise silent kitchen. You’d heard her sneak up behind you minutes ago, but only now did it feel like the right time to greet her. She was close, but too far, pressed against the island in the middle of the kitchen whilst you stood beside the sink, hands full of strawberries that Tony had asked you to turn into something delicious. You’d rolled your eyes at the billionaire who had made a habit of soliciting you for pastries, but here you found yourself in the kitchen anyways, trading hours of sleep for muffins that would be gone by the early afternoon. “Wanna help me?” You laid the freshly washed strawberries on a clean kitchen rag, falling into the process of patting them dry without much thought or intention. All of this came so naturally now; she came so naturally now. 

“I, um, I could actually just go for a hug. If it’s not too much trouble for the busy, Chef.” Her voice was hoarse, scratchy and thick as it fell onto your ears. Without the running tap, you could hear the quiet hitch in her breathing, wheezing exhales falling out into the space between your warm and yearning bodies. Your eyebrows furrowed, hands abandoning the strawberries in an instance. In all the years that you had known Natasha Romanoff, in all the years that you had seen her in the aftermath of a nightmare, she had never asked for a hug. You could count on one hand the amount of times you’d ever hugged her, and they’d all been for your own selfish reasons. You spun around to face her, palms dragging across your pajama bottoms and riding the water that clung to your palms so you could embrace her fully. 

You hadn’t spared her a single glance when she’d first entered, wanting to give her the chance and time to make herself known by her own judgment and comfortability, but now that your eyes traced the delicate shadows across her face, you could make out the unbridled tears brimming in her eyes. She was ghastly pale, a fitful sleep indicative by the deep bruising beneath her eyes. You’d never seen her so distressed, but for a single second you thought about how she’d chosen to seek you out instead of trailing down to the gym and bullying a punching bag like she’d gotten into the routine of doing. 

“Can I touch you?” You asked carefully, not wanting to make any sudden movements and spook her back into her shell of isolation. This was progress, and selfishly you wanted any excuse to pull her in close and hold her tight. When she nodded, a weak and fragile incline of her head, you closed the gap between your bodies and melted into her chest. She held you protectively, like she’d needed to feel you to ensure that you were safe and real. A single hand reached up to cradle the back of your head, and her lips found a home on the crown of your head as she inhaled your scent deeply. “You know you can always ask for hugs. Not just because you had a nightmare, but whenever. I mean that.” 

Natasha cleared her throat, though she simultaneously tightened her grip around your waist as if whatever she wanted to say would be enough to make you either run away or disappear entirely. You didn’t comment on it, letting her have the time she needed to get her thoughts in order. You grabbed onto her sleep shirt, tight fists bunching up the material and holding it possessively. Natasha felt the motions, felt the way the cotton shirt hugged her belly tighter now that most of the slack was taken up by your grip, and you smiled softly against her chest when you felt her breath out evenly.  “Today’s the day we left Ohio.” She started, and immediately your head shot up to search her blue eyes. You’d heard little about Ohio, even littler about the little blonde haired sidekick Natasha found herself protecting for three years, but you knew that what had happened had ruined her. You knew that something as little as moving away was never as simple as it sounded for her. “It was spring break. I left without being able to tell anyone I wouldn’t be coming back. They- They ripped Yelena out of my arms. I– I will always come back for you. You’re the first place that has ever felt like home outside of Ohio. I just– I needed to tell you that I’ll always come back to you.” 

“I will always come back for you.” You meant every word that you said, but you could see a cloud of disbelief hanging over Natasha’s gaze as she let your eyes meet again. There was something different about ehr now, something softer and smaller than you’d ever seen. It wasn’t unpleasant, but you couldn’t bear the thought of her so distraught, you especially couldn’t bear the thought of what she had looked like at only eleven. She’d been so young and the world had been so cruel, you just wanted her to know that she was loved, and she was cherished now. She wasn’t just another soldier anymore. “Nat, can I kiss you?” 

She froze for a minute, arms slackening around your waist as she stared deep into your eyes, an onset of fresh tears threatening to fall from her own, but before you could withdraw your question, before you could backtrack and excuse your vulnerability as simply being exhaustion, she was pulling you impossibly close, settling both of her hands on your cheeks as she cupped your face and settled her forehead against yours. Her touch was familiar and foreign at the same time, a coming of age to all the daydreams you’d fallen into with her at the center of them all. You’d thought about this moment for months, thought about how her calloused palms would feel against every inch of your skin, her she was always cold but not uncomfortably so. Now, beneath the kitchen lights and her greenish-gold gaze, you realized that you’ve wanted her since the very first moment you met her. “I thought you’d never ask.” Her lips, still impressionable with sadness, curled upward into a smirk, but you didn’t waste a second to kiss it away and show her the truth about love and connection. 

Natasha Romanoff had kissed more people then she could keep track of, but never had any of those intimate encounters come voluntarily. For so many years her life had been a means to the mission, but she was free now. Finally, she was entirely free. In so many ways, more than you could even contemplate, you were her first, and desperately you hoped that you would each be each other's last.

[floswife]

“MAKE ME”- H.J.P x READER

Warnings: fluff, rivals to lovers, idiots in denial that they’re in love, Harry being stupid bc why not

Pairing: Harry James Potter x reader

Author’s Notes: idk I just felt a little silly 🤷‍♀️

Summary: Harry can’t seem to keep his mouth shut around Y/n

Harry and Y/n never really got along. Why? Godric knows. It’s been going on for as long as anybody could remember to the point that the origins often varied amongst everybody.

“Oh! It was because Harry accidentally hexed her hair to be snakes.”

“It’s because she struck him by lightning to match his scar.”

“He got a bludger thrown at her during one of their quidditch practices!”

“She dressed up as you know who for a costume party once!”

None of those reasons were the actual origin of their feud, though they were actual events that had occurred.

The irony was that they should’ve gotten along perfectly well together on paper, both being in Gryffindor, both on the quidditch team, both hated by Snape (though Snape hated almost everybody except for green eyes redhead Gryffindor girls) and they both had many mutual friends between them.

They were just constantly at each others throats, it was like it was a game for the two. They definitely did always argue with a wide smile on their face.

Take today for example, it was quidditch practice and like usual, they were arguing.

“Potter, I swear to Merlin I’ll bat this bludger at you!” Y/n pointed her bat threateningly at him. The rest of the team had learnt to ignore them at that point, learning that they just work better motivated by their frustration at each other.

Harry just threw his arms up, “do it, l/n, we all know it’s an empty threat anyways because you’ll miss my face again.”

She gave him a scandalised look, “again?! Who said I ever missed your face, scarhead?”

“Ron! The last time I went to the hospital wing.” Harry grinned triumphantly as she glared at Ron at his spot by the goal to which he just observed the sky with mild interest.

“Do you know how vague that is? You’re in the hospital every other day, attention whore.” She huffed and crossed her arms.

It was then that they got shouted at by Wood to actually partake in practice to which they finally listened.

After practice where everyone was going to the changing rooms, Harry trailed after her and spoke in a sing song voice behind Y/n, “you missed me.”

She turned around with a light scowl on her face, “shut it Harold.”

He had his stupid smirk on his face that often found it’s way there when he was around there as he stepped closer to her, she stayed still, “oh yeah? Make me.”

His emerald eyes flitted to her lips and she felt her heartbeat pick up at the decreasing amount of personal space between them, “bet.”

His smile widened at her response but not for long as she pulled out her wand and wordlessly did a spell to seal his mouth shut.

In a moment of pure panic she just rushed into the changing room, did i seriously just hex a boy after almost kissing him?

As anybody would after hexing a persons mouth shut after almost kissing them, Y/n avoided Harry. Dodging him in hallways, quite literally jumping into random classrooms (though that was a one time thing after seeing a couple of seventh years exchanging spit in there).

Later in the common room, she was curled up in the corner with her knees to her chest, reading a book to calm her nerves, while also covering her face with said book.

This half assed disguise clearly did nothing for her because Ron sat right on the chair next to her.

“Y/n! My dorm now!”

She gave him an indignant look, “Ronnil Wazlib! Me and you need to have words about what you spilled to Harold you little rat!”

Ron just shook his head at her exasperatedly.

“Don’t shake your head at me like I’m your nan with dementia, I will tell ‘mione about your undying love for her!”

His eyes widened and he clasped a hand over her mouth, “just shut up and go up to my dorm.”

She threw her hands up in surrender and got up to go to his dorm, she walked into his dorm first and as soon as she turned to ask him what he wanted to talk about, the door shut in her face, she tried to open it but it was locked. She tried to magically unlock it, but it didn’t work.

Her blood ran cold when she realised her mistake, Harold.

She turned to see him sitting on his bed and he wordlessly patted the spot next to him.

She furrowed her brows but listened all the same as she sat down next to him, “that’s a little too much effort to just talk to me, Potter, just say you love me at this point.”

He gave her a deadpan stare and she then realised he was still hexed so she pulled out her wand and undid it. She gave him an apologetic look.

“Why did he try so hard to get me in here with you?” She asked curiously.

Harry seemed to contemplate what he was gonna say before he finally said, “well I’m not gonna say I’m in love with you but I can say that I like you. A lot actually.”

She gave him an incredulous look, “Excusé moi?”

He just nodded, “you’re brilliant and beautiful and smart and funny and I like you. And I think- no I know you like me too.”

She furrowed her brows, “how can you be so sure about that?”

He pushed a stray piece of hair out of her face and kept his hand cupping the side of her face, “because I know you.”

For once she didn’t argue against him and when he leaned in this time, she let their lips touch and she melted into the kiss. His lips were soft against hers and although they spent years with such animosity towards each other, it seemed to now just turn into blind affection as they naturally sank into each others arms.

When they pulled away with soft smiles still on each others faces, she spoke, “and you tried to get on my case for missing you in the hospital wing?”

Harry’s face lit up even more if that was possible, “so you did miss me!”

She rolled her eyes, “that was not new knowledge, get over it!”

He laughed and she decided to shut him up for the second time that day, except not with magic this time, but with another kiss.

It was then that Ron decided to burst in to the room, “have you guys killed each other ye- Merlin!”

He gasped at them as they jumped apart from each other. Harry looking proud while y/n looked slightly ashamed.

She threw a pillow at him as he ran off shouting for everyone saying he had money to collect.

[therealdogsinmymind]

✩ My Rival (All Mine) ✩

18+ MDNI

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

AO3 Link | Word Count: 2,394 | Chapters 1/1

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Synopsis: Sung Jinwoo pisses you off but maybe you've you've finally found a way to ruffle his feathers a little bit.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo/Reader, Sung Jinwoo/You

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Tags: Reader POV, Gender Neutral Reader, Virgin Sung Jinwoo, Jealous Jinwoo, Rivals to Lovers, Bickering, Kissing, Neck Kissing, Tenderness, Light Angst, Miscommunication, Conflict Resolution, Happy Ending

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Picture from @oo0mika0oo ‘s icon edits

“You piss me off,” you say under your breath, fully intending for him to hear it. He always fucking does. 

You don’t like Jinwoo, you never have. Not before you awakened as an S-Rank hunter and you saw him on TV and certainly not now that you know him personally. He’s got shitty vibes and an even worse personality. He’s closed off, and you can smell his fucking god complex from a mile away. 

“Good to know,” Jinwoo says coolly, taking a sip of his water. You don’t know why he needs it, he hasn’t even broken a sweat, despite the fact that he’s been running circles around everyone in the training arena for hours. Just to show off, you suppose. He’s kicked almost everyone’s ass so far, sans for yours. You really don’t feel like going up against him though, you’d like your ass to remain un-kicked, thank you. There’s also some cards you’d rather keep close to your chest; but god you wish you could rub his face in the dirt just once. 

As Jinwoo lingers against the wall next to you, head turned just barely so you’re in his line of sight, you grow increasingly agitated. Why the fuck did he come over here? Why is he looking at you? What’s his deal? He’s always doing this, he’ll follow you around just to piss you off. You swear he started going to the only coffee shop you like just to torment you with his extremely pretty, extremely punchable face. As your irritation reaches max cap you decide it’d be better to just take a deep breath and walk away, you don’t need to get into a pissing contest with this guy, you’re better than that. You’ll be taking your leave now.

You spring up, intent on heading for the door when Jinwoo calls after you, ”You don’t want a round?” Yeah, no. 

You turn around briefly, still walking backwards towards the door. ”With you? No. I can think of better things to do with my time.” You take a little pleasure in the way Jinwoo looks slightly shocked at your rebuff. You turn around and pick up the pace, hoping to get the hell out of dodge. 

Suddenly Jinwoo’s in front of you, blocking the door, having somehow appeared out of the shadows. ”Fuck!” You startle, you didn’t know he could do that, is there anything he can’t do? 

“The better things, what are they?” Jinwoo asks, staring at you intently as if your face will reveal the answer.

”What?”

”What are the better things?” He repeats.

”I don’t know, dude? Get laid? Not that you would know anything about that.” It doesn’t even occur to you until his face twists, all sorts of emotions that you’ve never seen on him. They mar his usually such impassive features; he’s jealous. You said it as a joke, really more than anything wanting to call him a virgin, but this is too good.  You have to hold in a laugh, it’s almost unthinkable, you have an antagonistic relationship with him at best. It intrigues you though, you wonder if you could push his buttons like this, he’s usually so unconcerned with others.

When Jinwoo doesn’t reply right away you take that as your cue, needling him, “Anyway- I do actually want to get fucked sometime today, so if you’ll excuse me…” You have no such plans but you wave your hand at him dismissively anyway, just to be a bitch. 

His face stays twisted but he doesn’t otherwise react so you push harder. Leaning in close to him and speaking low so as to not be overheard, “Unless you want to see to that.” It’s just to throw him off his game, you just want to see him gape like a fish, or maybe sputter, curse you out, anything. You’ve thought about what Jinwoo might be like in bed before of course, who hasn’t, a simple curiosity if you will. That’s neither here nor there, you’re truly just aiming to rile him up at this point; surely any second now he’ll reel back and run away.

 Instead Jinwoo grabs your wrist and pulls you out of the training arena. All that comes out of your mouth is a grunt, too worried about making a scene. Although maybe you should, where the hell is he taking you and why? He says nothing, simply dragging you down the hallway until he seems to sense an empty room where he promptly tosses you in; and for all your agility and grace you still land right on your ass. Great.

He shuts the door behind him just as you’re springing up, ready for a fight. That’s the only reason you can think he dragged you out here, to kick your ass away from prying eyes, the room is kind of small though, maybe he’s just that overconfident. You decide you won’t let him throw the first punch but it’s too late, Jinwoo’s fast, faster than you. You’ve barely had any real combat training as a new hunter and he’s the real deal. He’s in your space before you can even blink and you’re sure he’s about to beat you to a pulp. However no pain comes, there’s only a horrible sense of too-quick motion and then you’re seated firmly, feeling a bit dizzy. It takes you all but a moment to realize you’re sitting on Jinwoo’s lap, he seems to have scooped you up and sat down on a couch; you must be in someone’s office. 

“I’ll be seeing to that now,” Jinwoo says in a low voice, giving a healthy pause before he moves at all, perhaps to let your brain catch up with his words. 

It sure tries its best, running at a million miles a minute. You think about the fact that you hate Jinwoo, he’s fucking annoying, he’s stupid as shit. Your mind screams at you that he’s too powerful, it's dangerous, you shouldn’t get close. He’s too confident even if he can back it up, it’s kind of hot. You ignore that last part, you don’t who said that. However you also have eyes, he’s really fucking good looking and maybe if Jinwoo wants to fuck you so bad you can make him work for it a little.

You slip out of his arms and off of his lap. You don’t even dream of laughing at the poorly concealed heartbroken look on his face; it’s actually kind of sad to see. You click your tongue before sliding back onto his lap but this time straddling him.

“Come now, don’t make that face, I'm just getting comfortable,” you coo at him, stroking your thumb across Jinwoo’s cheek, it’s oddly tender for what the two of you have. He just looked so sad. He leans into it and it makes you want to be nice to him again, disgustingly enough. You lean in and give Jinwoo a soft kiss on the tip of his nose, deciding to kiss him more when he sigh softly, happily. You’ve never heard him make that noise, it’s entirely new to you, you wonder what kinds of other new sounds you can drag from him. More kisses, one on each of his cheeks, and again on the corners of his lips, missing the true mark purposefully. Jinwoo audibly swallows and his arms wrap loosely and hesitantly around your back. It appears all of his earlier confidence has sapped right out of him. You wonder if you were right on the money when you said he doesn’t know anything about getting laid.

You press a kiss to his jaw and linger there. “Jinwoo,” you whisper softly against his skin and he shudders. That’s cute, but you must stay focused, you have to ask, “Have you done this before?”

Jinwoo stiffens, “Define…’this’...”

“Fuck someone, baby.” He whines a little at the pet name and you make mental note of that. “Have you ever fucked someone before? Been with anyone? Made out? Kissed? What are we working with here?” 

He clears his throat and turns his head away from you as his cheeks go red. You groan and drop your forehead onto his shoulder. You were just going to mess with him a little, kiss him a bit and leave him wanting more; but there’s no shot in hell you’re going to fuck up his first time. He deserves someone better than you for that, someone he actually likes. You have to ignore the way that thought stabs you in the heart so badly you can barely breathe. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” you say, your forehead still resting against his shoulder, “We can’t do this.” 

“Oh,” Jinwoo says, voice flat, devoid of any emotion, truly reminiscent of the closed-off man that you so often see. His hands fall away from your back and you wince at the way he shuts down. 

“Hey,” you pour as much emotion into your voice as possible, “I promise it’s not you.” You tuck your head into Jinwoo’s neck and squeeze him tightly. You wonder if he can still breathe like this, you feel like you can’t despite nothing restricting you. “When you find someone you like you’ll be glad we didn’t do this.” He says nothing so you pull back to take a hesitant look at his face. Jinwoo looks angrier than you’ve ever personally seen him. 

“Already did.”

He grabs you by the face with both hands and before you can figure out if you heard him right, Jinwoo crushes your lips together too hard and too fast. However once your lips are touching he hesitates for a second, unsure of what to do next. Well, apparently you heard him right, and his hasty kiss answers all of your follow up questions about what he said, go figure. 

You can’t just leave him hanging, so you kiss him back like your life depends on it. All in all it’s a crappy kiss. Your teeth clack together painfully, he can’t seem to find a rhythm with you, and you bump noses incessantly too. Despite all this you can’t fucking stop kissing him; you don’t think you could even if the world was ending. Jinwoo pulls back after a bit, gasping, apparently no one ever taught him how to breathe.

You grab Jinwoo by his hair, “Breathe through your nose, dipshit.” Using your hold on his hair you pull him back into another kiss, delighting in his shocked moan. This kiss is slightly better, he seems to be learning quickly. Jinwoo wraps his arms around you again and grasps at the back of your shirt, you worry if he pulls any harder he might tear it. That could be hot though, an idea for later. 

This time you pull back first and Jinwoo emits an uncharacteristically pathetic whine in response. “Shh.”

 You press kisses up his jaw, before sucking a mark directly below his ear. You’ve never known anyone to leave a scratch on Jinwoo, maybe you’ll be the first. The thought fuels something new and feral in you. You begin covering his throat in as many marks as you possibly can, something delightful burning inside of you when you see each new bruise forming. You want him covered, you want everyone to know that this stupid man, this dangerous, closed off man is yours. Nobody else is allowed to see Jinwoo a mess like this, this is for your eyes only. That’s all you’ve ever really wanted, isn’t it?

“Jinwoo…” you whisper, your breath fanning across the spit-slick marks you’ve just made on his throat. 

Jinwoo shudders beneath you, “Yeah?”

“We are not fucking in a stranger’s office.��� Just on so many levels that is not happening.

He sags into the couch like a puppet that just had all of its strings cut. “I truly hate you sometimes…” he says with absolutely no malice, in fact it sounds kind of whiny and you have to hold in a giggle. 

“Until about ten minutes ago, I was under the impression that you hated me all the time.”

Jinwoo scoffs and runs his hand up your side gently, “I don’t hate you ever, you’re just really annoying.”

You rub a thumb over one of his blossoming bruises, admiring your hard work. “Awww thanks, you’re also a real fuckin’ peach.”

“I do try.”

You roll your eyes, patting him on the head now that you know he won’t kill you for doing that, “Come on, you can fuck me in my bed later. I’m dying to know if I can fit your dick in my throat.” The last bit is tacked on with a pointed wiggle of your hips, just so you can feel Jinwoo’s cock straining against his pants. God, he’s such a virgin, it’s painfully cute. You absolutely would give him a quick hand job here just to help him out but it’s so much funnier not to. 

Jinwoo’s hips twitch and he groans deeply, the sound reverberating in his chest, “Fuck you-” 

“Happy to help!” Being a hindrance is your favorite activity, especially when it’s Jinwoo you’re hindering. You can’t believe you’ve finally found his weak spot. 

“Yeah, I’m sure you are…”

“Aww, I’m sorry baby,” you say, voice thick with condescension, “I promise I’ll make it up to you later, just be patient.” You press a quick kiss to his lips before you slip off his lap. He sighs, folding over and dropping his head into his hands.

“You’re a nightmare…”

“Yeah but I think you might like that about me… Just a hunch.” You’re not actually sure if that’s true or not. You’re not sure of anything anymore. Really where the two of you stand now is a total mystery, but the soft laugh Jinwoo warms your chest, and that’s something isn’t it?

With a soft tone Jinwoo says, “Get out of here, menace.”

“Yeah, yeah… Hey- see you later?” Your words come out as a question, quiet and hopeful.

He sits up and looks at you, the corners of his lips quirked up. “See you later,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Of course, you almost forgot, ever since you came here it’s been that way hasn’t it? Where you go he follows and vice versa, he’s your rival after all, what would you do without him?

[soap-brain]

i think one of the nate eliot things is that they're both fucking unhinged. there's something feral about them, something that's capable of disregarding basic humanity. we know eliot is a killer, and a ruthless one at that, and he's not afraid of being in those kind of situations, which in a way dehumanises him, this inability to feel fear.

and nate. nate!! that man is terrifying! get in line, or get out of the way is his motto, and he applies it to absolutely everyone. especially in the earlier seasons, and yes he applies it to sophie (who is unarguably closest to him) too! for maggie he decides that she will get out of the way (because falling in line with him would mean that she would break the law, and she's a Good Citizen, not a Criminal or a Thief, and it never occurs to him that it's not a black and white situation... or that his ex wife matches his crazy).

and if you do neither, he ends you. simple as that. he doesn't kill you and he doesn't physically harm you, but what he does is arguably worse, because he ruins your life in ways eliot can't.

and they very quickly recognise each other as apex predators and both allow the other to use that for their crusade. eliot is a weapon that needs pointing in the right direction, that's what he's getting out of their relationship; and nate needs someone who'll have a go at him and who he can't actually hurt. because nate ruins lives by ruining their reputations, and what reputation does eliot have to lose? and conversely, not even nate ford could convince the world that eliot spencer isn't really fucking dangerous

(sidenote: that's why making moreau watch eliot spencer decrying the evil presidential dog fights is so fucking funny. there's an excellent post about it somewhere on here)

eliot thinks he's further along the path of being something inhuman, and he also thinks nate can still be saved from becoming that too. being an insurance cop, a "good guy" (btw a very laughable concept about how working in insurance makes you a good person. like. if that were the case then how come the same "good guys" let nate's son die so they didn't have to pay for his treatment?), was what kept nate on the straight and narrow before, and now giving him something to do might stop him from going completely off the rails ("how long until you fall apart again? a guy like you can't be out of the game, that's why you were a wreck. you need the chase" is what eliot's saying to convince nate to stay with the team).

unfortunately running with criminals doesn't fix nate the way eliot would like for it to, because the guy suddenly stops recognising any and all societal rules and overcompensates by trying to keep full control of everything all the time. he is so unreasonably mad at sophie for trying to help her friend teresa who got screwed over by marcone.

"she should've known what she got into, her husband working with the mob" and cpl perry from the ep before should've known what he got into, joining the military, but for some reason he's worth helping because he didn't "choose" to become a criminal. did teresa choose to get in with the mob or did she and her husband just not have another chance?

and when the entire team agrees they want to take that job, nate throws a hissy fit. tells them all to walk if they don't like the way he runs the team.

so does leverage fix nate? maybe after five seasons. but at first it makes him worse because between "not having to abide by normal human laws anymore" and the alcohol he completely loses his restraint

and eliot gets that. eliot has been there, has completely lost any and all principles (working for moreau mostly) and is now trying to glue the pieces of himself back together into something that isn't horrible. but nate isn't there yet. nate is still violent and dangerous, and eliot is the only one on the team who isn't disgusted by it. sophie certainly is. hardison and parker are too, even if they don't say it out loud. eliot may not like it, but he gets it.

and in return, nate is the only one who knows about what happened in the big bang job. he can hold eliot back with as little as a gesture or a look and it's not a slight to eliot at all. eliot trusts nate to point him in the right direction because they both need the same thing:

to be a good man.

also:

eliot: what, you think the only thing i know how to do is bust heads? nate: no... well, yeah. eliot: hold a knife like this, cuts through an onion. hold a knife like this, cuts thought like eight yakuza in 4 seconds. screams, carnage... nate: yeah good point actually

like apart from how it's funny, any normal person would react with some version of "that's so fucked up". and nate is just like yeah nah that tracks actually, fair enough, do carry on

also @scotchiegirl something about nate and eliot and violence? sorry for tagging you aslkdjfhasdlkfj i just had ThoughtsTM

[mindfulstudyquest]

“ dopamine detox ,, and why you should delete all your social media right now

"just five more minutes" and then you end up scrolling on instagram or tiktok for hours. i know that feeling. even if you know rationally that focusing on the really important things ( such as studying, working, learning from books or whatever ) is much healthier for you and your future, you can't help it.

you know that start studying for the exam you have next week will benefit you much more in the long run, but you still prefer watching tiktoks and scrolling on instagram. you could say that is pretty obvious: one activity is easy, and doesn't require much effort, whereas the other one is difficult and implies that you are focused.

but it's actually like this? so then why some people manage to be consistent in studying, or working, or exercising? they simply just have more motivation than you? and how can you start having the same motivation as them?

to answer this question, we have to take a look to a very important molecule produced by our brain: dopamine.

dopamine is often considered a pleasure molecule, but it's a false belief. dopamine is actually the molecule that makes us desire things, and it's that desire that gives us the motivation to complete every kind of task. for example, your brain doesn't release dopamine while you're eating a cheesburger, it releases it while you're going to mcdonald's to buy it, because you anticipate that the food will make you feel good, even if it actually makes you feel worse.

to your brain, it doesn't matter if the high-dopamine-activity is damaging to you.

your brain organizes priorities based off how much dopamine is expecting to get:

if an activity releases too little dopamine, you won't have the motivation to accomplish it.

if an activity releases a lot of dopamine you'll be motivated to do it, and repeat it over and over

so, which activities releases dopamine? basically, any activity where you can get an immediate potential reward releases an high amount of dopamine. but if you know that there's not an immediate reward invoved ( such as in studying, where the reward is in the long run ) your brain will not expect to release much of it and you'll be less motivated to do that task.

nearly everything releases some amount of dopamine, even drinking water when you're thirsty, but the highest amount of it is released when you're getting a reward randomly, for example while playing on a slot machine. even if you loose money, you eventually expect to get a bigger reward.

therefore it is not so surprising that the most additive social networks ( tiktok, instagram, pinterest ) are designed as slot machines. you don't know what the next post or video will be, but you expect something great, so your brain releases a large amount of dopamine.

in today's society our brains are overloaded with stimuli that induce an unnatural production of dopamine ( scrolling on social media, playing video games, watching internet pornograhy, etc. ).

it's frightening that people don't know how harmful this lifestyle is: our bodies have a biological sistem called homeostasis, which means that our bodies keep the internal physical and chemical conditions at a balanced level, whenever an imbalance occurs, our bodies adapt to it, for example, when it's very hot our body temperature rises and we start sweating to cool down.

but homeostasis manifests through tolerance too. for example, someone who hardly ever drinks alchool will be tipsy after one beer, on the other hand, someone who drinks alchool on a regular basis will need two, three, four beers in order to get drunk, because their body has developed a tolerance to it. it's not much different with dopamine.

so if you get used to large amounts of dopamine, you won't be able to do the things that you did before, because they don't produce as much dopamine and it's more difficult to motivate yourself to do them. once your dopamine tolerance gets too high, you are no longer able to enjoy low dopamine activities.

as if you were a drug addict, there's only one way to get out of it: you have to perform a dopamine detox. you have to avoid all high dopamine activities in order to allow your body to adjust to a normal level of dopamine production and start finding motivation again in the things that improve your personal growth.

it's not easy, you will be nervous and frustrated, maybe you won't make it through a full day without social media, but day by day it will get better and better, and eventually you'll be able to appreciate small things again.

imagine that you're eating your favorite food - for example, chocolate cake - every single day. after a while, chocolate cake doesn't taste good as before, even if it's literally the same cake. on the other hand, if you eat it once a month, it will taste great, because it's not something you've gotten used to.

this is exactly what dopamine detox does. be safe guys, and start recovering now.

[ source: https://youtu.be/9QiE-M1LrZk ]