#until I move all the companions here and build them their houses

[vault81]

ah yes my classic "I don't know what to do with a space in sanctuary so i'll turn it into a park"

[ja3yun]

In Safe Hands

roommate!heejake x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, dom!heeseung, softdom!jake (kinda), oral (m&f. rec), fingering, double pen, anal, squirting, mentions of choking, slapping (twice, not hard), spanking, spit, pet names (angel, sweetheart, slut), pure filth, heejake eat reader out at the same time but that's about as mlm as it gets, not proof read, anything else lmk. w.c: 19.6k synopsis: your brother, sunghoon, has left you in the safe hands of his two best friends. little does he know that those 'safe' hands are about to be all over you. a/n: hi! okay this is pure smut, like basically a pwp atp. my beautiful bestie ruby @dollyyun, this one is for you! i wrote this entirely for all your horn needs <3 i hope you love it! as always, comments, reblogs, etc etc are all welcome! this isn't something i usually do but for ruby i will.

With a grunt of effort, your older brother hoists your bulky box of unread books up the narrow staircase, muscles straining against the weight. His face is set in a grimace, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead as he curses under his breath. “Why the hell did she pack so many books?” he mutters, breathless. 

He knows he should be cursing his friends more than the weight of your belongings - they’re the ones who thought living on the top floor of a six-story building with no elevator was a brilliant idea. Then again, he should probably be cursing himself the most. It was his bright idea to suggest that you temporarily move in with his best friends Jake and Heeseung.

You and your brother, Sunghoon, are finally moving out of your parents' house. The desire for freedom, for space that doesn’t involve the relentless noise of your four younger siblings, has been simmering for years. At first, Sunghoon planned to move out alone, excited to claim his independence and a taste of solitude. But you weren’t about to let him escape so easily. You pleaded, over and over, wearing him down with promises that you wouldn’t be a burden, that you’d pay your share of the rent on time without fail, and that he’d barely even notice you were there.

And because Sunghoon has a massive soft spot for you, it wasn’t long before he caved. 

But your earnest pleas and big doe eyes have created a bit of a problem. The one-bedroom flat Sunghoon initially secured for himself was definitely not equipped to house both of you. With no other option but to look for a larger place, Sunghoon is forced to start scouring the rental market again. Meanwhile, your parents, seizing the opportunity, quickly repurposed your old rooms. His room became your youngest brother’s new, much-coveted space, and yours was transformed into your mom’s long-awaited home office. The message was clear: they loved you both, but they were more than ready to reclaim their home. It was as if they were holding open the door with one hand and pushing you through it with the other. They wanted you out as badly as you wanted to leave.

The bond between you and Sunghoon has always been unbreakable. As the two eldest in a large family, you’ve naturally gravitated towards each other for support.

At 22, Sunghoon has always taken on the protective role, while you, at 20, have been his closest companion. With your other siblings much younger - at least a seven-year age gap between them and the two of you - there were countless moments when it felt like it was just the two of you against the world. The late-night talks, the inside jokes, the shared burden of babysitting - those memories have created an unspoken understanding that makes living together now seem natural, almost like slipping into a familiar rhythm.

And that’s how you’ve ended up here, in Sunghoon’s best friend’s tiny flat, your temporary refuge until Sunghoon manages to secure a new lease on a place that can fit you both. The apartment, perched at the very top of a creaking, century-old building, is barely big enough for its current occupants, let alone one more, but they insisted on helping. 

Since this living arrangement is only temporary, there’s no point in unpacking your belongings just to repack them again in a few weeks. The result is a cramped, cluttered mess; the room looks more like a makeshift warehouse than a living space. Yet, neither of the boys seems particularly disgruntled by the chaos. If anything, they look almost amused as they manoeuvre around the piles of boxes.

Finally reaching the top of the stairs, Sunghoon stumbles into the flat, his breath ragged and his legs burning from the climb. He barely manages to get the door open before letting the heavy box of books drop at his feet with a dull thud. He bends forward, resting his hands on his knees as he takes a moment to catch his breath, sweat trickling down his temples.

His eyes scan the small living room, which is already in disarray. Jake and Heeseung are busy shifting their couch and other furniture around, trying to carve out a space for the mountain of boxes that have taken over their home.

“Thanks for letting her stay here, guys. I know it’s a big ask,” Sunghoon huffs out his appreciation, still slightly breathless. He wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and carefully climbs over a few stacked boxes to get closer to them. There’s sincerity in his voice, a touch of guilt too, knowing that his sister’s sudden arrival will most likely cause a tear in their normal routines.

Jake’s face lights up with his trademark bright smile, his eyes crinkling into happy crescents. He waves a hand dismissively as if brushing away any notion of inconvenience. “It’s no worries,” he replies, his tone warm and reassuring. “She’s always fun to have around.” His voice is genuine, and there’s a glimmer of fondness in his eyes. It’s clear he means it, and it’s enough to ease some of the tension in Sunghoon’s shoulders.

Heeseung, who has been busy adjusting a leaning bookshelf against the wall, turns to face Sunghoon, a small grin upturning his lips. “You sure you don’t wanna stay here too?” he teases, tossing a can of beer toward Sunghoon in a slow, lazy arc.

Catching the can, Sunghoon replies with a soft chuckle, his fingers curling around the cold metal. He presses it against his cheek for a moment, savouring the coolness before cracking it open. “Nah, I’ve got Mars to crash with,” he replies, his voice softening slightly at the mention of his girlfriend’s name. While your only option was his friends’ crowded flat, he had a much more appealing alternative in his girlfriend’s place.

Jake’s laugh breaks the brief silence, a low and knowing chuckle that causes his shoulders to shake. “To fuck, you mean?” he quips, raising a single eyebrow with a playful smirk tugging at his lips. 

The boy shrugs and takes a long gulp of his beer, giving an unrepentant gesture. "Either way, it's a bed, isn't it?" he replies, his mouth twisting into a relaxed grin. "Plus, I don't really want Y/N to hear me shaking the house, if you know what I mean.." His tone of voice is light, playful, yet his eyes are filled with slight horror at the thought.

He loves you - he truly does - but he and Mars seldom have undisturbed time together, and the idea of enjoying a few weeks without frequent interruptions is too appealing to pass up. The thought of you crashing on a mattress in the living room while her bedframe taps repeatedly against the wall makes him quiver. That’s a level of sibling intimacy he’s sure neither of you wants to reach.

“Oh, so you’re alright with her hearing us?” Jake's eyes gleam with mischief, clearly enjoying how easily he can rile up his friend. He leans back against the arm of the couch, crossing his arms over his chest, waiting for the inevitable comeback.

Setting his beer down, Sunghoon turns to face him fully, his expression suddenly serious. “As long as you keep it to her hearing it and nothing else,” he replies sharply, his voice carrying a warning edge. The room falls into a brief, awkward silence that Jake breaks with a chuckle, amused by Sunghoon’s protective streak. But Sunghoon’s gaze doesn’t waver, and he leans forward, his voice dropping to a low tone. “I’m serious. If either of you so much as touch her, I will personally saw your cocks off with rocks.”

Jake’s laugh dies in his throat, replaced by a wary smile. He exchanges a glance with Heeseung, who gives him a knowing look, a silent conversation between them before collecting themselves. 

“You don’t have anything to worry about,” Heeseung reassures him, his voice calm and measured. “Y/N’s a good girl anyway.” He nods as he speaks, trying to diffuse the tension but a flicker of spark as he calls you a good girl flashes in his iris’. 

“Yeah, she knows better than to jump on Hee’s infested cock,” Jake quips with a smart-ass grin, dispelling the weird aura that this conversation has brought between the three of them. The words spill out effortlessly, taking jabs at his best friend comes so naturally, and Heeseung’s face twists in sarcastic offence.

“At least girls wanna fuck me, huh, Mister ‘it’s been three weeks’,” Heeseung shoots back without missing a beat, his voice dripping with mock pity. He leans closer to Jake, nudging him playfully with his elbow. The banter between them escalates, their voices overlapping as they trade jabs like two kids in a schoolyard. The energy in the room is electric, charged with the sort of camaraderie that comes from knowing exactly how to push each other’s buttons.

“Shut the fu-” 

“Guys, both of you shut up.” Sunghoon’s tone is commanding, the kind of no-nonsense voice that instantly demands attention as he cuts through their back-and-forth nips. Jake and Heeseung fall silent, their grins fading as they see his serious gaze. “I’m serious. No touching my sister,” Sunghoon continues, each word deliberate and heavy. “End of story.”

Jake and Heeseung exchange a quick look, and like schoolchildren caught red-handed, they nod in unison, their earlier bravado slipping away. “Alright, alright, we get it,” Jake finally says, raising his hands in surrender, a sheepish smile creeping back onto his face. “Message received, man.” 

Heeseung doesn’t say a word, instead looking down, his mind deep in contemplation as he bites his lip.

Sunghoon watches them for a moment longer, his stare sharp and unwavering, before he finally relaxes, picking up his beer again. He takes a long, slow sip, letting the cool liquid soothe the heat still coursing through his body. “Good,” he mutters, but there’s a small, satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his lips now. “Just making sure.”

Your footsteps echo in the narrow corridor as you trudge up the stairs, carrying a small box that is featherweight compared to the heavy one your brother had just hauled up not five minutes ago. As you step inside, Jake spots you and immediately rushes over, kicking some stray bags out of your path to clear the way. “Watch yourself, pretty,” he says with a playful grin.

“Thank you, Jaeyun,” you reply with a smile, your tone warm and appreciative. His use of the sudden nickname causes a faint blush to creep up your cheeks, which doesn’t go unnoticed by him. You’re used to Jake’s harmless flirting, it’s just part of who he is, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t catch you off guard from time to time. There's always a momentary flutter in your chest whenever he turns that easy charm on you, and this time is no different. 

As you hand the box over to him, your fingers graze his, a brief touch that sends a spark through your skin but you quickly shake it off, stepping away from him as he stacks the box on top of others.

You take a moment to survey your surroundings. Though you’ve been in this flat more times than you have fingers, the knowledge that it’s now going to be your home for the next few weeks makes you see it from a completely different perspective. 

The guys have definitely made an effort to clean; the place looks more put together than usual if you take away your abundance of bags and boxes, but there’s a strange vibe hanging in the air. It's an odd mix of familiarity and uncertainty. You’ve only ever been here as a guest, mostly to watch movies with your brother, his girlfriend, and the two tenants. But now, you’ll be doing everything here - sleeping, showering, studying - things you never imagined doing under this roof.

It doesn’t help that you wouldn’t exactly call yourself close with both of them, well, with Jake, maybe you could consider yourselves friendly. He always goes out of his way to make you feel welcome whenever you visit. If you need an extra blanket, he’s there with one almost before you can ask. If you’re in the mood for tea or coffee, Jake seems to magically appear with a steaming mug in hand. There’s a warmth to him, a natural generosity that makes you feel at ease, even if he turns the situation horny in 0.2 seconds. He's got a knack for toeing the line between friendly and flirty, but somehow it never crosses into uncomfortable territory. Instead, it just makes the atmosphere a little lighter, a little more fun.

Heeseung, on the other hand, is a bit more of a mystery. He’s always been somewhat reserved around you, distant even. Not cold, exactly, but certainly not as openly friendly as Jake. You’ve never taken it personally, though. You know he isn’t the type to shower people with affection or heap on praise. He’s more of an observer, the kind who stands on the outskirts of the chaos, quietly taking it all in rather than diving into the fray. There’s a calmness to him that can feel almost intimidating, but there’s also a sense of steadiness that you find strangely comforting. Still, the idea of sharing a space with someone who keeps to himself so much leaves you wondering how the dynamics might shift now that you’ll be living under the same roof.

“You got many more bags?” Heeseung asks, his voice carrying curiosity as he glances over at you.

“Uh, two more?” you reply, slightly sheepish.

Sunghoon sighs, clearly exasperated. “I told you to pack light for now,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair in frustration. To be fair, you might have overpacked just a smidge and not listened to him when he told you to only bring necessary things with you to the new house and toss out the rest, but the last thing you want is to be caught without something important - hence the extra bags.

“It’s okay, I’ll get them,” Heeseung offers, his tone matter-of-fact.

“I can help,” you quickly volunteer, not wanting to seem like a burden, but he simply shakes his head, already turning toward the stairs. Without another word, he jogs down the steps to retrieve the remaining bags, his long strides making quick work of the descent. You watch him go, a grateful smile tugging at your lips because you know for a fact that those last two bags are the heaviest - you probably should have told him that.

As you stand there, Jake drapes an arm over your shoulder and pulls you into his side, his touch light but familiar. “We’ll have the best time, huh?” he says with a grin, his voice full of easy confidence.

You look up at him, matching his smile as you offer him a half-hug in return. “For sure,” you reply, feeling a bit of your earlier anxiety melt away. Jake has always had a way of making you feel at ease, his energy infectious in the best possible way.

Sunghoon, however, can’t help but notice the physical contact, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watches Jake’s arm around you. He doesn’t say anything, though; he knows Jake well enough to understand that this kind of skinship is just part of who he is. Too many times has Sunghoon been on the receiving end of Jake’s clinginess, so he lets it slide, albeit with a small sigh of resignation.

A moment later, Heeseung appears at the bottom of the final flight of stairs, grunting softly as he makes his way back up, each step slow and deliberate under the weight of your bags. His muscles strain visibly beneath his t-shirt, the fabric stretching tight across his shoulders and arms. “Did you pack a dead body in here?” he huffs, finally reaching the top and setting the bags down with a heavy thud. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he catches his breath, his lean, strong frame clearly pushed to its limits by the sheer weight.

Even as he exhales, his muscles begin to relax, but your eyes are drawn to the way the veins still protrude along his forearms, winding like thick cords beneath his skin. His biceps, now flexed from the exertion, stand out in sharp relief, the definition in his arms a testament to his strength. It’s clear that Heeseung is no stranger to physical labour - his body is built for it - but even he seems momentarily winded by the effort, a faint sheen of sweat glistening on his brow.

You aren’t oblivious to how attractive Heeseung is, in fact, it’s quite the opposite. Ever since Sunghoon first introduced you to his friends, you’ve been aware of the magnetic pull both of them seem to have on you. And honestly, who wouldn’t feel that way? Jake, with his effortless charm and eyes so dreamy they could melt stone, has a way of drawing you in without even trying. 

Then there’s Heeseung - tall and broad, with a quiet confidence that radiates off him in waves. His smile, rare as it is, sends your heart into a wild spin whenever you’re lucky enough to see it. There’s something about his reserved nature, the way he watches the room with those sharp eyes, that makes him even more intriguing.

As he straightens up, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension, there’s a brief moment where you catch yourself staring, fascinated by the raw power in his frame but the slight cracks from his shoulders speak volumes, and you can’t help but feel a pang of guilt for making him carry such a heavy load.

“Thanks, Heeseung,” you murmur, your voice sincere as you meet his eyes, hoping to convey just how much you appreciate his help. He simply nods, brushing it off as no big deal, and there’s a slight, almost imperceptible smile at the corner of his mouth.

Bending down, you reach for one of the bags to help out, wanting to ease some of the burden. But before you can get a grip on it, Jake swoops in and grabs it first. You watch as he lifts it, his arm muscles flexing with the effort. You can see him struggle with the weight, his smile faltering for just a second but Jake being Jake, tries to play it off with his usual nonchalance, shrugging the bag over his shoulder and grabbing the handle of the other one. 

“If you take the other handle, you can help me carry it and I’ll show you to your room,” he says, flashing you that familiar grin that always seems to promise mischief and fun.

You smile back and nod, stepping in to grab the other handle. The two of you share the load and together, you manoeuvre down the narrow hallway, leaving Sunghoon and Heeseung behind.

With your back turned you miss the subtle flicker of annoyance that crosses Heeseung’s face as he watches you giggle over something Jake just said. His jaw tightens, and he shifts his weight slightly, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before turning away. There’s something unreadable in his gaze, a mix of frustration and something else.

Sunghoon, however, catches the change in his friend’s expression. Turning to Heeseung, he looks dead serious, his usual relaxed demeanour replaced with a steely resolve. “Look after her, yeah?” he says, his voice low but firm. “I trust you more than Jake with this, don’t do something stupid.”

Your brother isn’t distrusting of Jake, but you’re easily swayed and Jake has a smooth tongue, he can’t help but imagine the two of you under the same roof and what could happen. And Heeseung, even if that look gave Sunghoon a reason to be concerned, would know better than to touch you.

“Don’t worry,” Heeseung replies, his voice steady. “She’s in safe hands.” There’s a weight behind his words, something that Sunghoon misses entirely.

It’s not Jake he should be worried about.

_____

The past three weeks have been nothing short of incredible. The newfound freedom from your parents has made you feel like a new person. There’s a weight lifted off your shoulders that you hadn’t realised was there until it was gone. 

Living with Jake and Heeseung has been refreshing; they respect your privacy in a way that you’re not used to. They don’t bombard you with a million questions about where you’ve been or why you’re going out at odd hours of the night, unlike your parents, who seem to hover over your every move, they trust you to make your own choices. 

Jake, in particular, brings a lightness to the flat that you’ve grown to adore. His infectious humour seems to brighten up even the dullest of days. He has a way of pulling you out of your shell with his playful teasing and silly antics. But then, there’s his flirting - relentless and almost too easy. It’s always just on the line of being harmless fun, but lately, you’ve noticed your chest fluttering whenever he’s around. Like the time he’d cornered you in the kitchen, grinning as he leaned in close under the pretence of grabbing something from the cabinet behind you. Or that morning when he "accidentally" walked into your room while you were changing, only to stand there gawking at your tits before insisting on making you breakfast to make up for it. You’ve tried to play it cool, but his attention has started to make your heart race, and you can’t help but wonder if he notices.

Heeseung, however, is a different story. While he has been welcoming enough, there’s a strange awkwardness between you two that you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s not that he’s unfriendly or cold, just...distant. You’ve racked your brain trying to figure out why. There’s no clear reason for it, so you’ve concluded that it’s probably because you’re invading his space. After all, the idea of doing Sunghoon a favour by letting his little sister crash here is probably better in theory than in practice. 

You’re aware that Heeseung’s never lived with a girl before; maybe it’s just a bit of an adjustment for him. Perhaps he’s not used to the softer touches around the flat, like your skincare bottles lining the bathroom shelf or your fluffy slippers by the door. So, you’ve been careful to keep your distance, to not get in his way or make him feel uncomfortable. The last thing you want is to be a bother to him when he’s being so kind and giving up his own room for you, sharing a bedroom with Jake to accommodate your presence.

On Thursday evening, you come home from your shift at the cafe, tired but content. As you slip off your shoes, you notice only one other pair at the door. That’s strange, by this time, both Jake and Heeseung are usually back home, lounging around or playing video games. 

Turning the corner, your breath catches in your throat. Heeseung is there, sitting on the edge of the couch, dressed in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips. His chest is bare, revealing a toned, lean physique that you hadn't seen up close before. His skin is tanned and smooth, glistening slightly because he’s just stepped out of the shower. 

Your eyes trace the faint lines of his abs, the way they ripple subtly as he moves. Below his navel, a small trail of hair disappears beneath the waistband of his joggers, and you find yourself staring for a moment longer than you should, teeth instinctively biting the skin of your bottom lip. The sight is unexpectedly intimate, almost like you’ve walked in on something private, and your cheeks heat up with a mixture of embarrassment and something else you can’t quite name, or rather, simply don’t wish to acknowledge.

“Hey,” his voice is gruff, indicating that he hasn’t spoken in a while. His tone is low, almost raspy, sending a small shiver down your spine. He runs his fingers through his damp hair, pushing it back from his forehead, and his eyes stay fixed on you, waiting. “How was work?”

Heeseung doesn’t seem to notice you at first, busy towelling off his damp pink hair, but when he looks up and catches your eye, there’s a brief flash of surprise on his face.

For a second, neither of you moves. His gaze holds yours, and you feel pinned under the weight of it, your heart thudding in your chest. Then, his eyebrows raise in a twitch and he nods at you in acknowledgement. 

The conversation is trivial and bland and you expect it from Heeseung, considering this is how every interaction between you both has gone since living together. But right now, with the godly sight in front of you, your mouth feels dry, and you find it incredibly hard to piece together words for an answer that don’t include the filthy thoughts racing through your mind. Your gaze flickers over his bare torso again, lingering on the way his abs subtly flex with each breath, the light sheen of water still clinging to his skin.

It doesn’t help that you’re ovulating. That’s probably why you’re acting so feral over a man’s body right now. But then again, this isn’t just any man - this is Lee Heeseung. He’s perfect in every way, from his strong jawline and pretty nose to his long, kissable neck and the faint v-line that disappears into his sweatpants. Your eyes trail lower, curiosity burning within you. You’d love to expand further on your thoughts about him if only you knew what you were working with, but your imagination will have to suffice for now. 

When you don’t respond right away, Heeseung’s expression shifts slightly. He leaves the towel on the couch, his eyes narrowing with concern, and takes a few steps closer to you. The sudden proximity sends your heart into overdrive, and you can’t help but notice the way his muscles ripple beneath his skin, his presence electric. “Are you okay, Y/N?” he asks softly, his voice more gentle now, laced with genuine worry. “Did something happen?”

You snap back to reality, blinking rapidly as you try to shake off the haze of your thoughts. Your cheeks flush, and you clear your throat, hoping he can’t read your mind. “Oh, uh - yeah, I’m fine!” you finally stammer out, forcing a smile. “Work was just...busy, I guess. A lot of orders today.”

Of course, Heeseung is dubious of your sudden stuttering, wondering what on earth has gotten into you. Then, for a split second, your pupils dart to his chest then back to his face, and that is all the clues he needs to conclude his thoughts. You’re nervous. 

He would never dare tell Sunghoon that he’s been wishing for this moment for the past year. He was so eager to have you stay, thinking that it would be different from how it has turned out; Heeseung was going to use the opportunity to get close to you, figure out your opinions on him and see what he could capitalise on in an effort to make you crumble beneath him. He didn’t exactly need forever with you, one night of you screaming his name would suffice.

Heeseung isn’t one to walk around without a shirt on, so seeing him like this is a rare and unexpected sight. You've never seen him this way before, and it's clear that he never anticipated how much it would affect you.

Normally, you’ve shown little interest, or at least you’ve managed to hide it well. But now, standing before him with your eyes betraying a flicker of something more, Heeseung feels a strange excitement building in his chest, hammering away with a mixture of nerves and anticipation.

But that changed once Sunghoon shot that warning look, even fearless Jake was momentarily quaking at the intense gaze of his eyes. Still, you’ve also made it impossible for him to get close. 

Though ever the opportunist, Heeseung spots an opening right now, any concerns about Sunghoon’s threats out the window as he looks into your wide, pretty eyes.

A slow, teasing smirk tugs at his lips, and he takes another step closer, closing the distance between you even more. “You sure you’re okay?” he asks, his voice dropping to a low, velvety tone that sends a wave of heat crashing over you. “You look a little flustered.”

You swallow hard, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. “I’m fine,” you insist, but it comes out a little breathless, betraying the effect he’s having on you. God, why is he so fucking hot?

Heeseung’s eyes narrow playfully, and he leans in, his breath hot against your ear. “If I didn’t know any better,” he murmurs, his lips barely brushing your skin, “I’d say you were distracted.” His hand reaches out, fingers lightly grazing your arm, sending a shiver through you.

You don’t know how to handle this side of him. Heeseung is usually reserved, his words careful and measured. But now, there’s a boldness to him - a confidence that makes your stomach flutter. Flustered and overwhelmed, you decide it’s best to retreat before you embarrass yourself further. “I-I’m going to get ready for bed.” You turn on your heel, ready to escape to the safety of your room.

But before you can take another step, Heeseung’s hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist firmly but gently. He pulls you back toward him, his eyes dark and searching. “Why do you do that?” he asks, his voice suddenly serious.

You blink up at him, your heart racing. “Do what?”

“Avoid me,” he clarifies, his tone both curious and frustrated. “You’re always so keen to talk to Jake, but when it’s me, you just…scurry off.”

Your mouth opens, then closes, your mind scrambling for an explanation. You shake your head, trying to appear calm. “It’s not what you think.”

Heeseung’s eyes bore into yours, his expression a mix of playful challenge and something deeper, something almost vulnerable. “It’s not?” he repeats, his grip on your wrist tightening ever so slightly. “Because I’m starting to think you might not like me.”

His words are teasing, but there’s a shadow of insecurity in his stare, a hint that he might be more serious than he’s letting on. Your heart aches at the thought that he might feel unwanted or disliked. You shake your head vehemently. “No, not at all,” you rush to say, your voice soft. “It’s just…you’re so quiet and distant with me. I thought maybe you saw me as a burden, like I was getting in your way or something. So I just, find it better to stay away.”

Heeseung’s brow furrows in confusion, clearly taken aback by your words. He seems to be processing what you said, his mind sifting through memories of the past few weeks. Was he cold to you? He hadn’t thought so but maybe all those times hiding in his room when you were watching TV with Jake, giggling and happy as you both shared inside jokes, or how he purposefully left early to give you time to have a shower without the worry of his presence, gave you an impression he didn’t want to leave.

His eyes search yours as if he’s seeing you for the first time in weeks. You lick your lips nervously, and he notices the way your pupils are blown wide, a hint of want flickering in them. The knowing hits him like a wave, giving him the courage to say what he’s been holding back for so long. Heeseung leans in closer, his lips nearly brushing yours as he speaks, “Do you know why I do that? Keep my distance?”

“Why?” you whisper, your breath hitching.

“Because I’m trying so hard to control myself around you,” he admits, his voice low and rough with desire. The words hang in the air between you, heavy and charged. Before you can fully process them, he presses his body against yours, backing you up until you’re pinned between him and the wall. His spare hand comes up to steady you, fingers splayed across your waist, and you feel the firm, unmistakable press of his member against your stomach.

Your breath catches in your throat, your entire body buzzing with electricity. His gaze is locked on yours, his expression intense and hungry, waiting for any sign of rejection or acceptance from you. When you don’t pull away, his lips curl into a smirk, his fingers tightening their grip on your waist. “You have no idea how hard it’s been,” he whispers, his lips ghosting over yours, “to keep my hands off you.”

You shiver, your body responding to his words in a way that leaves you breathless, a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through your veins. “Then don’t,” you murmur, your voice barely audible but carrying all the weight of your desires. Would Sunghoon kill you both for this? Yes. But are you clouded with the thought of getting fucked by the man in front of you? Abso-fucking-lty.

Heeseung’s resolve snaps the moment he catches the glint of desire in your eyes, raw and unmistakable. He doesn’t hesitate; his hand grips your face with a roughness that sends a shiver down your spine, dragging you in as his lips crash into yours with an intensity that’s anything but careful. There’s nothing gentle about it - his kiss is fierce, almost aggressive, fueled by pent-up lust that he’s no longer bothering to control, any thoughts about Sunghoon and his warning gone from his mind.

His mouth moves against yours in a frenzy, urgent and demanding, as if he’s trying to devour you whole. His tongue pushes past your lips, claiming your mouth with a possessiveness that leaves you breathless. He tastes like heat and desperation, and you meet him with equal fervour, your tongues tangling in a messy dance of want. His teeth nip at your bottom lip, tugging slightly, almost punishingly, before his mouth slants over yours again, deeper, harder.

Your hands slide up his torso, fingers skimming over the slight ridges of his abs, and he groans into your mouth, a low, guttural sound that sends a surge of heat straight to your core. You’re clawing at him now, nails digging into his skin as you pull him closer, needing to feel every inch of him. Heeseung’s grip on you tightens, his fingers pressing into your waist with bruising force, anchoring you in place as he pours every ounce of his hunger into the kiss.

He presses his body against yours, his arousal evident as his hips grind into you, the hard length of him pressing insistently against your stomach. He’s not holding back anymore, and the feel of him so close, so ready, only makes you more desperate. You arch into him, letting out a small, breathy moan that seems to spur him on. His lips move to your jaw, biting and sucking a path down to your neck, leaving marks that he knows will linger, and you’re gasping, fingers tangled in his hair as you tug him closer.

“Fuck,” he groans against your neck, his voice thick with need. “You drive me crazy. Do you know that?”

Heeseung’s breathing is ragged, hot against your skin as his mouth trails back up, capturing your lips again in a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth, messy and unrestrained. He shifts his grip, his hands sliding down to your thighs, squeezing them roughly before he hoists you up with ease. Your legs wrap around him, locking tight as he manoeuvres you toward the bedroom you’re currently occupying. The journey is a blur of heated kisses and frantic touches, your nails scraping along his shoulders and arms, urging him on.

He barely pauses as he reaches the bedroom door, booting it open with a forceful kick. The door slams against the wall, but he doesn’t care; he’s too far gone, driven by pure, primal need. With a growl, he tosses you onto the bed, not bothering to be gentle. You bounce slightly on the mattress, the impact sending a rush of adrenaline coursing through you.

Heeseung climbs on top of you, his body pressing you down into the sheets. There’s a wild, almost feral look in his eyes, darkened with lust as he stares down at you. He’s breathing hard, every muscle in his body tense with barely restrained desire, and you can feel the weight of it in the air, thick and charged.

“I need to ruin you,” Heeseung breathes, his voice low, gravelly, and trembling on the edge of a plea and a command. His words are both a question and a demand, and the sheer hunger in his tone sends a shiver coursing through your entire body. “Please, let me ruin you.”

Though he poses the question, he doesn’t give you time to answer; his lips crash into yours with renewed urgency, kissing you with an almost punishing force. It’s all teeth, tongue, and desperation, and you moan into his mouth, matching his intensity, pulling him closer as if you can’t get enough. His hands roam your body with rough, greedy touches, fingers digging into your hips, your waist, everywhere he can reach as if he’s memorising the feel of you under his hands so he can sculpt you out of clay at a later date.

His hips grind into yours, and you gasp at the hard, insistent press of him against your core. Heeseung catches the sound, and his lips curl into a dark, satisfied smirk against your mouth. “God, you’re so needy,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction and barely restrained lust.

Without warning, he grabs the hem of your top, yanking it up and over your head in one swift motion. The fabric catches briefly, but he doesn’t care, he just rips it away, tossing it aside with a growl of impatience. Your bra is next, his fingers hooking under the straps and pulling until the clasp snaps open. He doesn’t bother being gentle, practically tearing it off you, and then he pauses, eyes locked on your bare chest.

“Fuck,” Heeseung breathes, his gaze shamelessly ogling your breasts, drinking in the sight of you with a hunger that makes your heart race. “You’re perfect.” The way he looks at you - like he’s starving and you’re the only thing that can satisfy him - makes heat pool low in your belly.

Before you can respond, he lowers his mouth, capturing one of your nipples between his lips with a sudden, rough intensity. His tongue flicks against the sensitive bud, hot and wet, before he sucks hard, drawing a gasp from your throat as your back arches instinctively. The contrast between the softness of his lips, the roughness of his tongue, and the sharp bite of his teeth has you moaning his name, each sensation driving you wild.

“Heeseung, fuck-” you gasp, your voice breaking as he switches between sucking, licking, and lightly nipping at your sensitive skin. Each movement sends jolts of pleasure through your body, making you buck your hips up into his, desperate for more friction, more of him, everywhere.

Heeseung’s free hand slides down your body, fingers trailing over your heated skin, teasing the waistband of your pants before slipping beneath. His touch is bold, impatient, and he doesn’t waste time, finding your folds with practised ease. The moment his fingers make contact, you both let out a sharp gasp. You’re wet, slick with arousal, and the feel of you against his fingers is enough to make him groan low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your nipple as he continues to work you with his mouth.

“God, you’re so fucking wet,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice a rough, breathless whisper. “All this for me?”

His fingers dip into your folds, sliding through your slickness with an agonizingly slow, deliberate motion that leaves you breathless. The sensation is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and anticipation, and you can feel the heat building, your core tightening as his fingers tease your entrance. Heeseung’s thumb brushes over your clit, drawing a strangled moan from your lips, and he groans in response, the sound low and primal.

He keeps one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard as he slowly pushes a finger inside you, feeling you stretch and clench around him. You’re so tight, so hot, and the feeling of his finger sliding in and out, curling to hit that perfect spot, has your hips bucking wildly against his hand. The combined sensation of his mouth tugging on your sensitive nipple and his fingers pumping into you is almost too much to bear.

“Heeseung, please,” you whimper, your hands fisting the sheets as you grind against his fingers, needing more, needing everything. The relentless rhythm of his fingers, the way his tongue circles and flicks your nipple, has you on the edge, your entire body buzzing with electric heat.

Heeseung’s teeth graze your nipple, biting down just enough to send a shockwave of pleasure and pain through you, and you cry out, hips jerking up as your body seeks more contact, more friction. “You like that?” he rasps, his voice thick with need. “The way I’m making you feel?”

All you can do is moan in response, every nerve in your body alight with the need to be filled, touched, consumed. His fingers slide deeper, curling against your most sensitive spot, and he pulls your nipple with his teeth, sending a fresh wave of ecstasy crashing through you. It’s raw, it’s overwhelming, and you can feel yourself unravelling under his touch, driven by the pure, primal lust that courses between you both.

"Please, Heeseung, faster..." you moan breathlessly, your voice breaking with need as your eyes flutter shut. You let yourself drown in the sensations, feeling every curl of his fingers inside of you, the way they press and drag against your walls with deliberate precision. The pleasure is dizzying, your body tensing and writhing in rhythm with each thrust of his hand.

Heeseung’s mouth finally detaches from your nipple, the cool air against your wet skin sending a shiver through you as he brings his face up, so close that his breath fans over your lips. His eyes are dark, charged with lust and something almost predatory, and the sight only fuels the fire burning inside you. “Can you handle it, angel?” he asks, his tone laced with a teasing mockery that makes your skin prickle.

“Yeah...” you pant, shamelessly meeting his gaze, a wild smile spreading across your face. “Go as rough as you want. You wanted to ruin me, right?”

It’s a challenge, and one he’s more than willing to accept. Heeseung’s expression shifts instantly, his entire demeanour hardening with a new, unrestrained intensity. His fingers move faster, plunging into you with renewed vigour as his thumb finds your clit, circling it in tight, relentless motions that have your thighs trembling. The sudden increase in pace sends your senses spiralling, your body arching up to meet every thrust, every swipe of his thumb against your swollen bud. It’s as if you’re floating, weightless, caught in a whirlwind of pure, unfiltered pleasure.

You can’t control the way your body moves with his hand, chasing the friction, the overwhelming heat that’s building in your core. Nothing is enough; you need more, need him deeper, harder, faster. Heeseung notices your desperation, the way you’re writhing beneath him, your hips rolling and grinding into his touch, and he smirks, a dark and knowing look flashing in his eyes.

“You’re such a greedy little slut, aren’t you?” he scoffs, his tone mocking but laced with the kind of filthy affection that makes your entire body quiver. The words send a shock of heat straight through you, and you can’t help the loud, unabashed moan that escapes your lips. His fingers curl inside you, pressing into the perfect spot, and your entire body convulses, thighs trembling as his touch sends you higher.

“Heeseung!” you mewl, your voice breaking in pure happiness, pleasure dancing through your veins. The way his fingers stretch you, three of them now pushing inside, filling you, twisting and curling as his thumb continues to work your clit, is mind-numbing. The steady, relentless pace of his movements combined with the filthy words pouring from his mouth has you seeing stars.

“Oh, you like being called a slut, huh?” Heeseung taunts, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction as he watches you unravel beneath him. Your response, the way your body responds to his every touch and word, only spurs him on, feeding into the raw, carnal energy between you.

Heeseung leans down, his lips brushing against your ear, so close that you can feel every word as he whispers them. His teeth sink into your earlobe, rough and possessive, and the sharp sting makes you yelp, the sound quickly dissolving into a breathy moan. “What if I started calling you my pretty slut, huh?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous, dripping with ownership.

The words hit you like a wave, crashing over you with an intensity that sends a fresh rush of arousal pooling between your thighs. You feel it, slick and hot, running past his fingers and down your ass cheek, coating you in the evidence of just how much you want this, how much you want him. 

“God, Heeseung,” you gasp, your hips bucking wildly against his hand, desperate and unashamed. His fingers pump into you faster, curling with each thrust, hitting all the right spots that make your mind go blank. You’re lost in the overwhelming sensation, every nerve alight with the tight, twisting pleasure that coils inside you, winding tighter and tighter until you’re right on the edge, ready to snap.

“You’re soaking me,” he teases, his voice low and rough, edged with dark amusement as he feels the fresh wave of arousal coating his fingers. “You really do like being called mine, don’t you?”

Your body answers him before you do, your back arching, and you nod eagerly, biting your lip to suppress the needy moans that threaten to spill out. You’re so close, so achingly close to that release, the familiar knot of pleasure inside you tightening with each movement of his hand. But just as you’re about to tip over the edge, Heeseung shifts his body, his fingers slowing down, easing up on their relentless pace, and the knot inside you begins to unravel, pulling you back from the brink.

Your eyes snap open, frustration flashing across your face as Heeseung shakes his head, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips. “You need to use your words, or else I’ll stop,” he warns, his tone firm and commanding. “Understand?”

You go to nod again, but before you can, Heeseung withdraws his thumb from your clit and presses his palm flat against it instead, the sudden change making you cry out. The weight of his hand on your sensitive nub sends jolts of pleasure sparking through you, but it’s not enough - it's maddeningly close, yet just shy of the friction you need. You try to move, to grind against his palm, but Heeseung holds you down, his strength keeping your hips pinned as he presses his hand more firmly against your pulsing clit.

The rough texture of his skin brushing against your sensitive flesh without the full contact you crave is enough to make you squirm in frustration. You look up at him, your eyes pleading, but Heeseung’s gaze is expectant, patient, and utterly dominant as he watches you, waiting for you to obey him.

“Fuck, yes, yes! I’ll use my words,” you gasp, your voice high and trembling with need. You’re teetering on the brink of losing control, and the need to reach your peak overrides every ounce of pride. “Now please, Heeseung, make me cum.”

Heeseung’s smirk widens, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he hears you beg, your desperation feeding his ego. “See? Was that so hard?” he mocks, his voice dripping with playful arrogance. His fingers resume their movement, thrusting into you with renewed vigour, but this time there’s no hesitation, no teasing. He’s relentless, driving his fingers deep and fast, scissoring and curling them just right, hitting that perfect spot with every thrust.

His thumb returns to your clit, circling with precise, punishing speed, and the friction is immediate and overwhelming. The knot inside you tightens rapidly, coiling tighter and tighter until it’s a white-hot ball of pleasure, ready to explode. Your entire body moves in sync with his hand, hips rolling and grinding as you chase the friction, the pleasure building to an unbearable intensity.

“God, yes, Heeseung!” you cry out, your voice breaking as you feel yourself tipping over the edge. Your walls clamp down around his fingers, the pressure inside you reaching its peak. Heeseung watches you with a fierce, unyielding intensity, his eyes never leaving your face as he works you over that final threshold.

“That’s it,” he groans, his voice thick with satisfaction as he feels you tightening around him, your entire body trembling. “Let go for me. Cum for me, pretty girl.”

His words are the final push you need, and you shatter, pleasure ripping through you in powerful, uncontrollable waves. Your vision blurs and your entire body tenses as you cum hard around his fingers, each pulse sending shockwaves of bliss through your veins. Heeseung doesn’t let up, his fingers continuing their relentless pace, drawing out every ounce of your climax until you’re a trembling, moaning mess beneath him.

You’re barely aware of anything but the overwhelming sensation as your orgasm crashes over you, drowning out everything else. The tight coil of pleasure finally snaps, leaving you gasping and spent, your body still twitching in the aftermath as Heeseung slows his movements, easing you down gently from your high.

You’re left panting, completely undone, and Heeseung’s gaze remains fixed on you, his eyes dark and full of pride. He pulls his fingers out slowly, savouring the way you shudder at the loss, and he smirks, bringing them up to his lips. Heeseung licks them clean, humming in satisfaction at the taste of you, and the sight is enough to send another shiver down your spine.

“You did so well,” Heeseung murmurs, his voice thick with a twisted mix of pride and possessiveness. His lips capture yours in a kiss that's slower now but still burning with heat, and you melt into it, savoring the lingering buzz of your orgasm coursing through you. His mouth is unyielding against yours, claiming, almost as if he’s staking his territory on your lips. He pulls back, his forehead pressed against yours, eyes hooded and dark. “But we aren’t done,” he growls, the words dripping with intent that sends a fresh pulse of arousal through your core.

Heeseung's hands are on you instantly, grabbing the waistband of your bottoms and yanking them down, taking your underwear along in one swift, almost impatient motion. There’s no care in the way he tosses them aside, as if the only thing that matters is having you bare and exposed in front of him. The cool air hits your damp skin, and you shiver, every nerve ending alight as you lie there completely vulnerable under his predatory gaze.

Heeseung’s eyes roam over you, dark and hungry, lingering on every curve, every inch of your flushed skin. There’s a flicker of something wild in his expression, something that makes your heart race as he drinks in the sight of you. His hands move to his own waist, dipping into his grey sweats, and he pushes them down, revealing himself inch by agonizing inch. When his cock finally springs free, you can’t help the gasp that escapes your lips.

He’s even more than you imagined - thick, veined, and curving up just right, flushed a deep, enticing pink that makes your mouth water. At least seven inches, standing proud and heavy against his stomach, and the sight alone has your thighs clenching with anticipation. You can almost feel it already, dragging against your walls, filling you so perfectly that your empty core aches in response.

Heeseung notices the way your eyes are glued to him, the shameless hunger written all over your face, and his lips curl into a wicked smirk. “Like what you see, huh?” he taunts, his tone low and laced with mocking arrogance as he wraps a hand around his length, stroking himself slowly. His cock twitches in his grip, precum beading at the tip and dribbling down, and the sight makes your breath hitch.

“Heeseung,” you whimper, your voice filled with desperate need. You’re aching to feel him inside you, to have that perfect thickness stretching you open, but Heeseung doesn’t move, content to watch you squirm. Your hips shift on the bed, trying to relieve the unbearable emptiness, but he just tightens his grip on his cock, refusing to give you what you so clearly crave.

“You’re fucking shameless,” he mocks, his voice dripping with condescension. He runs the head of his cock teasingly through your slick folds, not quite pushing in, just enough to make you shiver. “Dripping all over my cock.”

You shudder, the tip of him nudging against your entrance, teasing but not quite entering, and it’s maddening. “Please, Heeseung, fucking move,” you beg, barely able to keep your voice steady. Your hands fly to his shoulders, trying to pull him closer, but he doesn’t budge, relishing every second of your desperation.

“What’s the rush, huh?” he says, feigning innocence, though his voice is edged with a dark, sadistic thrill. “Thought you wanted me to ruin you?”

His words hang in the air, taunting, and your body responds on instinct, your hips bucking up, trying to force him deeper. Heeseung lets you feel the head of his cock press in just a little more, but then he pulls back, chuckling darkly as you whine in frustration. The teasing is almost too much, and the smirk on his face tells you he’s enjoying every second of your torment.

“Fuck, please,” you plead, every ounce of pride gone, replaced by pure, unfiltered need. “I need it so bad, Heeseung.”

Finally, he seems satisfied, and his smirk fades into something darker, more feral. “That’s more like it,” he growls, and in one smooth motion, he pushes forward, his cock sinking into you inch by agonising inch. The stretch is perfect, your walls clenching around him as he fills you completely, and you gasp, overwhelmed by the sensation of him dragging against your insides.

Heeseung doesn’t wait - doesn’t give you time to adjust. He pulls back and slams into you again, the force making the bed creak and your breath hitch. It’s rough and relentless, the curve of his cock hitting all the right spots, and you can’t help the cry that escapes your lips. Your nails dig into his back, trying to anchor yourself, but Heeseung is unyielding, setting a punishing rhythm that leaves you breathless.

“Look at you,” he pants, his voice rough and laced with mockery as he watches you unravel beneath him. “So fucking desperate. How long have you wanted this?”

His words make you clench tighter around him, your body responding to his taunts in a way that makes your cheeks burn with a mix of shame and arousal. Heeseung notices, and he chuckles, low and dark, leaning in close enough that his breath brushes your ear.

“Tell me,” he growls, his tone edged with a threat that sends a thrill of anticipation through you. “Use those words, or I’ll get them out of you.”

A wicked idea sparks in your mind, and instead of answering, you clamp your mouth shut, biting down on your lip to keep any sounds from escaping. You look up at him, eyes gleaming with defiance and smirk. The challenge in your gaze is unmistakable, and you see something dark and feral flicker in Heeseung’s eyes as he realizes what you’re doing.

Heeseung loves submissive partners - loves when they give in to him completely. But there’s something about a brat, something about the way they fight back, that lets him unleash everything he’s got. And the way you’re looking at him now, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing you beg, makes his blood pump with a mixture of lust and exhilaration.

“Oh, you want to play like that?” he snarls, the dangerous edge in his voice making your heart race. Without warning, his hand moves up to your throat, his fingers wrapping around your neck with an almost brutal grip. His hand is big, easily encompassing your throat, and the pressure he applies makes his veins pop, the sight of them making your breath hitch.

Heeseung squeezes, and your airways constrict, your eyes widening as you feel the breath leaving your lungs. “You’re gonna want to gasp for air soon,” he taunts, his voice a low, menacing rumble that sends a fresh wave of arousal pooling in your core.

The lack of air combined with the relentless thrust of his cock deep inside you creates a dizzying, intoxicating sensation. Your brain starts to feel lighter, like you’re floating, and the world around you blurs as the pressure in your throat increases. You can still breathe—just barely - but the tiny gasps you manage through your nose aren’t enough, leaving you light-headed and playing a dangerous game.

And fuck, do you love it.

Heeseung’s grip tightens even more, cutting off your air completely, and your body thrums with a heady mix of fear and arousal. You’re drowning in the feeling of him everywhere - his cock driving into you, his hand choking the life out of you, and the overwhelming intensity of it all sends you spiralling into a blissful, euphoric state.

Your body goes slack beneath him, every muscle relaxed as you give in to the sensation, the lack of oxygen making everything else sharper, more intense. Your vision starts to blur at the edges, darkness creeping in, but you hold onto the pleasure, focusing on the way his cock drags against your walls, filling you so perfectly that it almost hurts.

Heeseung watches you closely, the way your lips part in a desperate attempt to take in air, the way your eyes flutter shut as you lose yourself in the haze. He knows you’re close, knows that the combination of his rough treatment and the lack of air is pushing you to your limit.

“God, you’re such a greedy little slut,” he hisses, thrusting harder, and you arch up into him, every nerve ending buzzing with electric pleasure. “Can’t get enough, can you?”

You’re too far gone to respond, too caught up in the overwhelming sensation of him pounding into you, each thrust rougher than the last. Your mind is hazy, clouded with lust, and all you can do is moan his name, your body moving instinctively to meet his every thrust.

Heeseung’s grip loosens from your throat, and you suck in a desperate gasp of air, your lungs burning with the sudden rush of oxygen. The pace of his thrusts is relentless, brutal, and all-consuming, driving you closer and closer to the precipice. Your world is reduced to the slick, punishing rhythm of his cock inside you, the tight coil in your stomach winding impossibly tight. You’re so close, teetering on the edge of blissful oblivion, when Heeseung’s voice cuts through the haze.

“Fuck, you’re gonna cum again, aren’t you?” he taunts, his tone ragged and dripping with sadistic pleasure. “Do it. Cum for me, and let everyone know how much you love getting fucked like this.”

As if by magic, Heeseung’s words come to fruition and as the last word leaves his mouth, Jake is standing frozen in the doorway, his expression a mix of shock and something heat-provoking. He shouldn’t be here - shouldn’t be seeing this - but there’s no stopping himself, the way his eyes linger on you, on the way your body arches and moves under Heeseung’s control. His jaw is slack, lips slightly parted as he struggles to process the scene in front of him, but he can’t hide the lust in his gaze, the unmistakable arousal that flares as he hears the sounds of your moans echoing through the room.

Heeseung notices Jake almost instantly, his rhythm never faltering. Instead of shouting at him to get out or shielding you from Jake’s gaze, Heeseung smirks, his lips curling into something wicked and taunting. He rolls his hips into you once more, and you cry out, lost in the sensation and unaware of the unexpected visitor.

“Jake,” Heeseung calls out, his voice dripping with arrogance and something like amusement. He gestures with a nod of his head. “Come here. She’s a handful.”

Jake hesitates only for a moment, clearly dazed by the invitation and the surreal reality of the situation. But then, as if drawn by some invisible force, he steps inside, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click. He moves to the side of the bed, eyes flickering between you and Heeseung, still trying to wrap his head around what’s happening.

You see him then, and the shame washes over you like ice water, your impending orgasm slipping away in the heat of the moment as you flush red for a different reason. You instinctively try to cover yourself, hands moving up to shield your chest, but Heeseung’s grip is ironclad and he catches your jaw with a firm, possessive hold, forcing your gaze back to his.

“Don’t be embarrassed, angel,” Heeseung murmurs, leaning down so only you can hear, his hips slowing just enough to make your frustration mount. “You want him, don’t you? I see the way you look at him when he calls you pretty names.”

You can’t deny it - the truth in his words makes your core tighten, clenching around nothing as you imagine Jake’s touch, the thought of both of them overwhelming you. You’ve craved this in the darkest corners of your mind, and now, with Jake standing there watching you, your desire is laid bare.

“Yes…please, I want him,” you confess, voice trembling with need and a hint of shame.

Heeseung’s smirk widens, his expression turning mocking and cruel. “See? I knew a slut like you couldn’t be satisfied with just one cock.” His hand comes down in a light but sharp slap across your cheek, and you gasp, the sting mingling with pleasure that leaves you breathless.

Jake’s eyes darken at the action, flickering with concern at the derogatory name and the harshness of Heeseung’s treatment. But then he sees the way you smile up at them, your expression dazed and blissful, a spark of euphoria igniting in your gaze that tells him all he needs to know. You want this. You want to be used, claimed, and taken by both of them. Harshly and roughly.

Brushing his fingers along the mark on your cheek, Jake soothes the pain. His touch is warm and careful, but there’s a hunger behind it, a dark intensity in his eyes that makes your pulse quicken. He looks down at you, his expression a mixture of adoration but menacing intent.

“Our pretty girl,” Jake murmurs, his voice low and velvety, tinged with a heat that sends a shiver down your spine. “Who knew you were so filthy?”

Heeseung’s gaze snaps to Jake, his possessiveness flaring instantly. “My pretty girl,” he corrects sharply, his tone dripping with dominance and a clear line of ownership. “You’re just here to help out.” Heeseung’s words are a clear warning, a statement of his claim over you, even in this shared moment. He’s willing to let Jake in because it’s what you crave, but he won’t let anyone - especially not Jake - forget who you truly belong to.

Now that he has you, he’s never letting you go. Not Jake nor Sunghoon is taking you away from him.

Jake’s eyes flash with understanding and he nods slightly, accepting Heeseung’s terms even if he isn’t too happy about it. You’re beautiful in every way and he would want nothing more than to call you his, but he knows about Heeseung’s fascination with you.

Jake has seen all the times Heeseung walks out of the room when you’re getting too close to one another. At first, he thought it was to give you and Jake alone time, but with every slam of a door or huff, he soon realised that Heeseung was in fact jealous and couldn’t bear to see the sight of you curled up with someone who wasn’t him. It doesn’t help that you’ve never been close to Heeseung the way you are Jake, but the Aussie blames that on his friend’s lack of initiative. 

Clearly, he finally took the initiative by the looks of his cock ramming into you sharply.  So, Jake takes this opportunity, if it’s between one night of sharing you, or not at all, he’s taking the first option. 

Heeseung’s grip on your jaw tightens just a fraction, and he leans in, his lips brushing your ear. “You’re mine, angel. Always.” His eyes flicker to Jake, silently reminding him of the rules, before focusing back on you, his thrusts picking up speed again, driving into you with a new found vigour.

Your grip on the bedsheets tightens as you brace yourself, the soft fabric bunched between your fingers, knuckles turning white as you thrash beneath Heeseung. You’re barely aware of Jake watching every moment, every reaction—none of it matters anymore. The thick, pulsing drag of Heeseung’s cock has you keening, the heavy, relentless throb of his tip pressing against your walls with every hard thrust sending you spiraling into a delirium of pleasure.

The intensity of it all - the way Heeseung fills you so completely, the way his hips drive into you with a brutal, punishing rhythm - pushes you closer and closer to the edge. As your second orgasm builds, white-hot and all-consuming, it’s too much, almost unbearable. You instinctively try to pull away, shifting your hips back to gain even the slightest bit of relief. But Heeseung is quicker, his hands clamp down on your hips with a bruising grip, fingers digging into your skin.

"Don’t you fucking dare," he growls, his tone laced with anger and something darker, like the mere thought of you taking yourself away from him is the worst kind of betrayal. His gaze is wild, his brow furrowed with barely contained frustration, and it’s clear there’s a flip switch inside him - something more aggressive, more dominant than you’ve ever seen.

A sharp slap lands on your cheek, harder than before, the sting blooming hot across your skin and sending a shock straight to your core. “Don’t run away from what you want,” Heeseung hisses through clenched teeth, his thrusts not slowing for even a second. The sting mixes with the pleasure, and you feel yourself clenching around him, torn between pain and desire. You know you’ve pushed him over the edge, coaxed him into this rough, untamed version of himself, and you revel in it, loving the back and forth, the give and take of control.

“Jake, hold her arms,” Heeseung commands, his voice sharp and demanding, finally bringing Jake fully into the mix.

Jake’s hands are on you immediately, rough and firm as he yanks your arms above your head, pinning your wrists against the mattress. He pulls you slightly, stretching you out and arching your back off the bed. The new angle sends you reeling, Heeseung’s cock hitting deeper, impossibly so, opening you up in a way that has you gasping for breath. You’re splayed out before them, exposed and vulnerable, and the combination of Jake’s tight grip and Heeseung’s punishing pace leaves you completely at their mercy.

Heeseung’s thumb finds your clit again, pressing down with just enough force to make you cry out. “You’re going to cum for me,” he growls, voice rough and dripping with command. His hips snap against yours, relentless and punishing, and his thumb moves with practised precision, rubbing tight, fast circles that have you teetering on the brink of ecstasy.

Your vision blurs and all you can feel is the overwhelming pressure inside you, the knot in your stomach that has been pulled to it’s limits finally snaps with blinding intensity. You scream out, your entire body tensing as the orgasm crashes over you in violent, shuddering waves. It’s all too much, your body convulsing uncontrollably as Heeseung keeps driving into you, his thumb never relenting on your clit, prolonging your pleasure until you’re nearly sobbing from the sheer intensity of it.

Heeseung doesn’t let up, his pace unyielding, fucking you through your climax with a savage determination. Your slick walls clamp down around him, spasming with every drag of his cock, and he lets out a strangled groan, his control slipping as he chases his release. You’re lost to the sensation, barely able to form coherent thoughts as your climax drags on, each wave cresting higher than the last until you’re left shaking and spent beneath him.

“Fuck, Heeseung,” you cry out breathlessly, the desperate need in your voice undeniable. “Cum inside me, please, please, please.” You’re beyond humiliation now, too lost in the heat of it all to care about anything but the aching emptiness you feel whenever he’s not filling you.

But just as you plead, Heeseung pulls out, the sudden emptiness leaving you whimpering and clenching around nothing. The slick, wet sound of him slipping free echoes in the room, and he fists his cock, pumping it with fast, urgent strokes. His chest heaves, muscles taut and glistening with sweat as he works himself to the brink, his grip on you tightening with every jerk of his wrist. The sight of him above you - his face twisted in pleasure, his eyes wild and unfocused - is enough to make you ache with need all over again.

With a low, guttural groan, Heeseung spills over you, thick ropes of cum painting your stomach and chest, marking you his territory. The heat of it hits your skin, and you watch as he works himself through the last pulses of his release, his jaw clenched and his body trembling. Heeseung’s chest rises and falls heavily, his breaths ragged as he lets go, the last of his cum splattering across your body. He leans back, admiring the mess he’s made, his cock still twitching in his hand as he slowly comes down from his high.

“You need to behave if you want my cum, angel,” Heeseung says, his voice low and mocking, a smirk curling at the edges of his lips as he looks down at you. His thumb brushes over the sticky mess on your skin, smearing it just to make a point. You shiver, the ache and desire mixing into something intoxicating, and you know this won’t be the last time you push him like this - because the way Heeseung loses control when he’s with you is something you’ll never get enough of.

Jake’s grip loosens slightly, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles over your wrists, soothing the faint ache left behind by his earlier roughness. His touch is a stark contrast to the raw intensity of everything that’s just happened, but his eyes tell a different story - dark, hungry, and locked onto you with an unwavering focus. His gaze travels over your body, lingering on the mess Heeseung left on your stomach, your heaving chest, and the subtle, involuntary shake of your legs. You’re a beautiful wreck, panting softly, your entire body still humming with the aftershocks of your orgasm, and Jake can’t help but be mesmerized by the sight.

Heeseung notices the way Jake’s expression shifts, the unmistakable desire written all over his face. “You want to clean her up?” Heeseung’s voice drips with amusement, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watches his friend’s restraint begin to crack. Heeseung’s fingers dip between your folds, collecting some of your slick before he brings his digits to his mouth, savouring the taste with a low, satisfied moan. “She’s fucking delicious.”

The taste of you floods Jake’s senses, and he loses himself in the moment, the sweet and salty blend of your release making his eyes flutter shut as he dives in deeper. He works his tongue expertly, slipping between your folds and circling your swollen clit before dipping down to explore your entrance, lapping up every drop of your arousal with an insatiable hunger. 

Jake doesn’t need any more encouragement. An avid pussy eater, he’s practically salivating at the opportunity, his lips curling into a smile as he bites down on his lower lip. He moves swiftly, coming around the bed to position himself between your trembling thighs. Heeseung steps back, giving him space, though his watchful eyes never leave you. Jake starts slow, his tongue darting out to deliver soft kitten licks against your sensitive folds.

His touch is featherlight at first, a teasing exploration that makes your body jolt with renewed need. You can’t help but arch into him, your hands tangling in his hair as you pull him closer, seeking more, silently begging for him to go faster.

You’re lost to the pleasure, moaning and grinding against his mouth, and Jake takes it all in stride, responding to every twitch and pull of your body as he picks up the pace, his lips and tongue moving in perfect rhythm. He feasts on you like you’re the only thing that matters, each flick and swirl sending jolts of pleasure through your already overstimulated core.

Heeseung watches the scene unfold, his jaw clenched as he listens to your moans. Jake’s face is buried between your legs, and it’s clear from the way your back arches and your thighs tighten around his head that he’s damn good at what he’s doing. Heeseung can’t deny the jealousy simmering beneath his calm exterior. As much as he loves seeing you fall apart, he wants to be the one pulling those sounds from you, the one making you lose control.

Dragging his fingers along your torso, Heeseung collects some of the sticky mess he left on your skin, his cum still warm and glistening. “Open up, angel,” he orders, his voice laced with menace. You’re too far gone, drowning in the sensations Jake is giving you, but you obey without question, parting your lips wide and waiting with your tongue out like a perfect little submissive.

Heeseung pushes his fingers into your mouth, letting the salty tang of his cum coat your tongue. “Suck,” he commands, and you comply immediately, hollowing your cheeks around his fingers and drawing them in deeper. You swirl your tongue over his digits, tasting every drop, your eyes fluttering shut as you lose yourself in the bitter and intoxicating mix of him. 

Watching you intently, Heeseung is mesmerised by the sight of you sucking so eagerly, his fingers slick with your saliva and his cum. He pushes in further, teasing the back of your throat, feeling the soft gag that makes you whimper around him, desperate and wanting more.

Meanwhile, Jake is completely absorbed in his own task, his tongue working tirelessly as he devours you. His nose brushing against your mound, his lips and tongue moving in tandem as he dips deeper, swirling his tongue inside your stretched, pulsing hole. You can feel every stroke, every flick, and it’s driving you mad, the pleasure so intense it has you bucking your hips against his face, searching for every ounce of friction you can get.

Watching you writhe and moan, Heeseung feels something shift within him. There’s a flicker of fondness, something warm and possessive that cuts through his dominant facade, just for a miniscule of a second. He wants every piece of himself inside you, to claim you in ways that go beyond just the physical but he pushes it down quickly, promising himself he’ll come back to that once he’s done with you here. He needs to give you everything you want at this moment, and that isn’t tender touches and soft kisses.

Pushing your jaw down with his fingers against your tongue, Heeseung pries you open just a fraction wider. He leans in close, his eyes dark and intense, and without warning, he spits into your mouth, the warm liquid mixing with the mess on your tongue. “Swallow,” he says, his voice low and commanding. You do as you’re told, choking back a swallow even with his fingers still invading your mouth, feeling the weight of his spit mix with everything else, and the act itself only heightens the filthy pleasure coursing through you. You’ve never felt so wanted, so owned, and it’s everything you’ve ever craved.

Jake keeps his pace, and Heeseung watches with a mix of satisfaction and jealousy, knowing that while Jake might get to taste you, it’s Heeseung’s name that you’re whispering, it’s Heeseung who’s truly claimed you. But he can’t let Jake have all the fun down there.

Watching the way Jake devours you, his mouth slick and greedy against your pussy, his jealousy flares up even as he feels the rush of satisfaction at seeing you come undone. He wants to feel you trembling beneath his tongue, taste you again as you unravel. 

Withdrawing his fingers from your mouth, Heeseung moves to join Jake, his presence commanding as he circles to where the younger boy is still lost in you.

Jake’s head lifts just slightly when he feels Heeseung’s proximity, eyes narrowing in playful defensiveness. “No way, man, you ain’t taking over,” he mutters, his voice breathless, lips glistening with your slick. Heeseung simply rolls his eyes, unfazed by the challenge. 

Instead of pushing Jake away, Heeseung moves in closer, nudging Jake just enough to the side so that they both have room to work. “She said she wanted both of us,” Heeseung smirks, his tone smug and self-assured. “I’m just giving her what she wants.”

Jake, still high on the taste of you, nods in agreement, accepting Heeseung’s presence beside him. As long as he gets to keep his mouth on you, keep drawing those sweet, desperate sounds from your lips, he’s willing to share the space. Heeseung’s head dips down beside Jake’s, and the two of them work in perfect, sinful harmony, their mouths colliding as they lick and suck at your folds, both eager to claim their share of you. Their noses brush against each other, their breath mingling in heated puffs as they take turns devouring you, neither willing to give up the spot.

The sensation is overwhelming - two mouths on you at once, tongues weaving over one another, sometimes colliding and sometimes complementing, creating a dizzying, chaotic rhythm that has you seeing stars. Heeseung’s tongue is precise and teasing, swirling around your clit with practised ease, while Jake’s is more fervent, desperate and hungry as he licks broad, eager strokes from your entrance up to the sensitive bundle of nerves Heeseung is working on. The way their tongues dance over each other sends electric shocks up your spine; it’s hot and heavy, a messy, wet collision of pleasure that makes your entire body hum. 

This is truly what dreams are made of.

Every lick, every flick of their tongues against your swollen clit and dripping folds sends you spiralling closer to the edge. Jake’s hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh as he holds you open for both of them. Heeseung’s tongue dips lower, tasting you deeply, swirling inside your entrance before flicking back up to meet Jake’s. They take turns teasing you, their movements synchronised in a wicked, unspoken dance that leaves you gasping and writhing. It’s filthy and intimate, the feel of their mouths and their rough, needy breaths making your skin burn with want.

You can’t take it anymore. The coil inside you tightens with a force that’s almost painful, your third orgasm approaching with a relentless, ferocious speed. You try to hold on, try to prolong the moment, but it’s useless; the dual sensation of their mouths on you, the way their tongues move and taste you, has you spinning out of control. Your fingers claw at the sheets before finding purchase in their hair, grabbing onto both of them as your hips buck wildly.

“I’m cumming - fuck, I’m cumming!” you scream, your voice breaking, your entire body seizing as the orgasm rips through you with blinding intensity. The release is violent and all-consuming, your juices flooding their mouths as you squirt, your thighs shaking uncontrollably. 

Your release is powerful and sudden, a gush of warm, clear fluid spraying from your core in rhythmic pulses, splashing against their faces and dripping down your thighs. The sensation is unlike anything you’ve felt—wild and uncontrolled, your entire body shaking as you let go completely.

Both Heeseung and Jake are caught in the torrent, and they react instantly, their mouths wide open and eager to catch every drop. Jake groans, eyes squeezed shut as your release coats his lips, chin, and cheeks, his tongue flicking out desperately to catch the taste of you. He presses his face closer, unashamedly drinking you in, his movements more frantic as he swallows your essence, the wet sound of his slurping mixing with your breathless cries.

Heeseung, on the other hand, keeps his mouth firmly on your clit, feeling the rush of your squirt spray against him as he sucks and flicks over your swollen nub. The force of your orgasm sends jets of your wetness splashing against his lips, some of it dripping messily down his neck. His eyes stay fixed on you, half-lidded and dark with lust, groaning in satisfaction as he devours you, tongue flicking at your sensitive clit even as you tremble and buck from the intensity of it all.

The way they’re lapping at you, hungry and relentless, only prolongs your squirting, your body giving everything it has as you flood their mouths with your release. Your thighs quiver violently around their heads, your back arching off the bed as the last spurts drench their faces and mix with the slick heat of their tongues. You can feel it everywhere - your release dripping down, soaking into the sheets, and covering their skin. It’s filthy, raw, and utterly electrifying, leaving you gasping and trembling as the final shudders of your climax ebb away.

Laying there, you gaze up at the ceiling, overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude for everything that has transpired. This is beyond anything you’ve ever imagined, a blissful euphoria that washes over you in waves. As you replay the events in your mind, you realize just how perfectly everything fell into place. If you or Heeseung had acted on this sooner, there’s no telling if Jake would be here with you now, completing this experience in a way you never expected. Timing really is everything.

Lost in your thoughts, you barely register Heeseung’s strong hands pulling at your arm, coaxing you into a sitting position. Your body feels limp, heavy with the aftershocks of your intense climax, but Heeseung is persistent, supporting your weight as he brings you upright. His warm breath tickles your ear as he whispers, “You’ve made such a mess, angel.” His voice is low and teasing, sending shivers down your spine. He nods towards Jake, who stands by the bed, his face and chest drenched in your release. “Your slutty little act got Jake soaked. You better get him out of those clothes, huh?”

Jake’s eyes light up at Heeseung’s words, a mix of excitement and disbelief crossing his features. He had half-expected Heeseung to kick him out after what just happened, but the realization that this night is far from over fills him with eager anticipation. Heeseung's possessiveness is still palpable, but there’s a clear invitation in his words—a chance for Jake to fully join in.

Despite the fatigue settling into your limbs, a satisfied smile tugs at your lips. You nod in agreement, knowing that as spent as you are, the hunger for more is still burning inside you. Heeseung was right - you are a lot to handle, and you love it.

Jake’s cock stands proudly before you, a little shorter but thicker than Heeseung’s, veins bulging along its length, and the tip flushed a deep pink. It throbs with anticipation, precum already beading at the slit, and your mouth waters at the sight. You glance up at Jake, who’s watching you with hooded eyes, his chest rising and falling with quickened breaths.

Gathering the last of your energy, you crawl to the edge of the bed where Jake is standing. His t-shirt clings to his skin, wet and sticky from your release, and you peel it away from his body, revealing his toned chest beneath. The fabric resists slightly, almost glued to him, but you tug it off, discarding it carelessly to the side. Your fingers move to his jeans, deftly unbuttoning them and pulling down the zipper, feeling the weight of his arousal straining against the denim.

As you tug his jeans down, you can’t help but notice how his cock springs free, heavy and thick, even shorter than Heeseung’s, but undeniably tempting.

Heeseung moves behind you, his hands massaging your shoulders, his touch firm yet soothing. “Go on, angel,” he purrs, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Suck his cock like the slut you are. Make him nice and hard.” His tongue flicks out, tracing the curve of your ear before he bites your lobe, a low growl rumbling in his throat. His voice drops to a menacing whisper, a warning laced with dominance. “Remember, you’re mine. Don’t let him cum in your mouth, or I’ll make sure you never get a drop of mine. Got it?”

The thought of Heeseung’s cum buried deep inside you sends a fresh wave of longing through your body, the ache intensifying at the reminder that he denied you earlier. You whine softly, desperate to please, knowing that you’ll do anything to earn that reward.

You start slow, your hand wrapping around the base of Jake’s cock, feeling the thick, pulsing heat in your palm. Your tongue darts out, flicking over the tip to taste the salty precum gathered there, and Jake’s breath hitches, his hips twitching forward slightly. You take him into your mouth, your lips wrapping around the head, sucking gently as you inch down his length. The taste of him fills your mouth, and you hum in satisfaction, the vibration making Jake groan above you.

Jake’s reaction only spurs you on. You take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks as you bob your head, creating a wet, slurping sound that fills the room. Your tongue swirls around his shaft, tracing the thick veins and teasing the sensitive underside, making him moan low and deep, his hands fisting in the sheets. The way he reacts to you—his breathless gasps, the way his hips jerk forward uncontrollably—fuels your desire, making you suck harder, faster, wanting to see him unravel.

Heeseung watches you with dark, hungry eyes, his own arousal reigniting as he takes in the sight of you working Jake’s cock. His hand moves to his own length, stroking himself in time with the rhythm of your head bobbing on Jake’s cock. The jealousy is there, a bitter edge that makes him want to rip Jake away from you, but he holds back, knowing that this is all part of his plan. You need to get Jake nice and ready for what Heeseung has planned next.

As you focus on Jake, your hips start to rise involuntarily, your body seeking more stimulation, almost begging for attention. Heeseung’s eyes catch the movement, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches your ass sway in front of him. There’s no way you’re sucking Jake’s cock without offering yourself to Heeseung like that. He can’t resist the invitation.

Without warning, Heeseung’s hand comes down on your ass with a loud smack, the sharp sting making you cry out around Jake’s cock. The vibration travels through Jake’s length, and he groans, his head falling back as he feels it shoot straight to his balls.

“Fuck… Heeseung, do that again,” Jake breathes out, his voice strained with pleasure.

Heeseung obliges, his hand coming down harder on your ass this time, the force of the slap sending a jolt of pain-pleasure straight to your core. You cry out again, your throat tightening around Jake’s cock as you take him deeper, the sensation making him groan louder, his hands gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles turn white.

“Such a fucking slut,” Heeseung mocks, his tone filled with dark amusement as he soothes the reddened skin of your ass with gentle strokes, then leans down to press a kiss against it. “Bet she even loves her ass being played with.”

“Bet she does,” Jake echoes, his voice rough, his face scrunched up in pleasure as your tongue runs along the prominent vein on the underside of his cock.

Heeseung wastes no time in spreading your legs wider, his fingers tracing the slick folds of your cheeks before he delves in, tongue first. The wet, hot muscle of his tongue circles your rim, teasing and tasting, flicking over the sensitive skin there. The sensation is unlike anything you’ve felt before, and your back arches instinctively, pushing back against his face as he works you open. Heeseung’s mouth is relentless, his tongue dipping inside before drawing back to lick, over and over, until your thighs are trembling with need.

He adds a finger, then two, stretching you as his tongue continues its assault. Heeseung’s fingers press deeper, curling slightly as he works them in and out with an agonizingly slow rhythm, the slickness of your arousal making it easy for him to fuck into you. The combination of his tongue and fingers is overwhelming; every nerve in your body seems to light up under his touch. He alternates between licking and biting, his teeth grazing just enough to send a shiver of pain-pleasure shooting through you, and you can’t help but clench around him, your muscles tightening as you struggle to keep focus.

Jake watches from above, his cock still in your mouth, and your tongue traces along the prominent vein on the underside, feeling it pulse with every beat of his racing heart. But Heeseung’s ministrations make it impossible to concentrate fully. The way his tongue darts in and out of your ass, combined with the relentless thrust of his fingers, is too much to bear. Each stroke sends a jolt of pleasure directly to your core, and the more Heeseung teases, the harder it becomes to maintain control.

It’s a battle to keep your focus on Jake’s cock. You want to please him, to keep sucking and teasing, but Heeseung’s touch makes your mind go blank. Just as you start to find a rhythm again, you feel Jake twitch in your mouth—a subtle warning that he’s close. Panic surges through you as you remember Heeseung’s strict instructions and the threat of losing the chance to have his cum if Jake finishes in your mouth. Desperate to obey, you pull off Jake with a wet pop, the cool air hitting your lips as you gasp for breath, the brief reprieve quickly turning into a moan as Heeseung drives his fingers deeper, faster.

Heeseung doesn’t let up; he kneels behind you and yanks you up, removing his fingers only to press you firmly against his chest. His grip is possessive, holding you close as he whispers in your ear, “Good girl, you listen so well to me.” The praise sends a rush of heat straight to your core, and you whine, your body going limp against his hold as he licks the last of your taste from his lips, his satisfaction evident.

Seemingly caught in the moment, Jake’s eyes fix on you as he wraps his hand around his cock, fisting himself with quick, desperate strokes. His eyes flutter closed, his head tipping back as he chases the high he was so close to achieving in your mouth. You watch with rapt attention, seeing the way his muscles tense, his abs clenching as he works himself to completion. He positions himself in front of you, aiming at your stomach, and with a low, guttural groan, he spills over you, hot and thick.

His cum splatters across your skin, mixing with the remnants of Heeseung’s earlier release, creating a mess that drips down your belly and pools in your navel. You watch the way Jake’s cock twitches in his hand, each pulse sending another thick rope of cum across your skin, the sight both filthy and utterly arousing. The combined scent of their release fills your senses, and you can’t help but let out a soft, needy whimper, your body aching for more.

Heeseung’s hold tightens around you, his fingers digging into your flesh as he watches Jake finish. “Look at you,” Heeseung murmurs, his voice rough with pride and arousal. “Covered in our cum like the perfect little slut you are.” He tilts your head back, forcing you to look up at him, his dark eyes burning with unspoken promises. “And don’t worry, angel. You’ll get what you want soon enough.” His cock twitches against your back, a silent promise of what’s still to come.

With a smirk, Heeseung’s eyes flick down to his friend’s softening cock. “I’ll give you a minute, yeah?” he says, the implication clear in his tone. Although Jake’s frustration is palpable - knowing that Heeseung will be buried inside you again before he even gets a chance to feel your tightness squeezing his cock - he nods in understanding.

He knows he needs a moment - his dick, still slick with your spit and his own cum, needs a little time to recover before he's ready to go again. The veins running along his shaft are still faintly pulsing, and his tip, now a deeper, more muted pink, glistens under the dim light of the room. He gently strokes himself, trying to keep the lingering arousal alive, his eyes never leaving the scene unfolding before him.

Meanwhile, Heeseung’s lips trail down your neck, nipping at your skin in a playful, almost affectionate way. Each bite is a reminder of his claim on you, and the small smiles he gives are a stark contrast to the filthy things you’ve done together tonight. His warm breath fans against your ear, and you can’t help but shiver in anticipation, knowing exactly what’s coming next.

With a sultry smile, you gather some of the cum pooling on your tummy, dragging your fingers through the sticky mess before bringing them to your lips. You suck them clean, maintaining eye contact with Heeseung the entire time, a deliberate and provocative display. 

A stray dribble escapes the corner of your mouth, trailing down your chin, but Heeseung’s quick to notice. Without hesitation, he leans in, his mouth latching onto your skin as he sucks the dribble off your face, his tongue sweeping over your jawline in a way that’s both possessive and intimate. The unexpected act catches you off guard, and you gasp softly, the sound quickly morphing into a needy whimper.

Something is mesmerising about Heeseung - how he’s unafraid to take what he wants, how he ensures you’re getting the most pleasure out of every moment. He’s unlike anyone you’ve ever been with, and you find yourself falling deeper into the way he handles you with a perfect balance of roughness and care. Jake, too, has been nothing short of selfless, his need to please you evident in every touch and desperate lick. The puppy-eyed boy is eager to please you, which is a rarity to find in men these days, god knows you’ve tried looking for one.

Who knew what you needed was under this roof?

Heeseung’s eyes remain half-lidded, dark with desire, as he pulls back just enough to speak. “Turn around for me, angel,” he instructs, his voice dripping with lust. He punctuates his command with a sharp slap to your ass, and the sting only amplifies the fire burning between your legs. His enthusiasm is contagious, and despite your exhaustion, a renewed energy surges through you. You comply eagerly, shuffling until you’re facing him, both of you on your knees on the mattress.

Up close, Heeseung’s beauty is breathtaking. His dark eyes are alight with mischief and hunger, but there’s also a softness there, a gentleness that contradicts the filthy words he whispers in your ear. You marvel at how stunning he looks with his tousled hair, swollen lips, and a faint sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. He’s a perfect mix of tenderness and dominance, and every second in his presence feels electric.

“I’m going to fuck your cunt. You feeling okay?” Heeseung asks, his voice softening as he checks in on you, his fingers drifting down to your slick heat. He carefully slides them between your folds, testing your sensitivity, searching for any signs of discomfort.

You moan at the touch and nod, meeting his gaze with a cheeky grin. “I’m okay. Nowhere near ruined,” you tease, giving him an innocent look, though both of you know there’s nothing innocent about what’s happening.

Heeseung’s expression shifts, his caring concern replaced with amusement and libido. “Yeah? Suppose I better make good on my promise then,” he growls before crashing his lips back onto yours. The kiss is fierce and consuming, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with unrestrained fervour. He devours you, kissing you like he can’t get enough like he’s starved for every part of you - and he is. His fingers continue to play with your folds, rubbing slow circles against your clit, driving you further into madness as your hips jerk instinctively against his hand.

Jake’s watching intently, his cock twitching back to life as he witnesses the raw passion between you and Heeseung. The sight of you so lost in Heeseung’s touch, the way your body melts into his, ignites something fierce within Jake. He strokes his length slowly, feeling the arousal steadily build again, his tip swelling with a deep rose tint as blood rushes back, hardening him as he imagines the moment he’ll finally be inside you.

Heeseung’s hands find your ass, gripping firmly as he lifts you with ease, positioning you over his lap. Your legs spread wide, and he uses his strength to guide you down, letting your slick folds drag along his cock, the bell of his tip pressing teasingly at your entrance. The friction has you grinding against him, desperate for more, and Heeseung groans at the needy way you move, his head tipping back in pure bliss.

“God, I fucking love how needy you are,” he breathes, leaning forward to hover his lips over yours, barely brushing them as he speaks. “I’m never letting you go after this.”

You can’t suppress the smile that spreads across your face, the words resonating deeply. “Good. I don’t want you to,” you murmur back, your voice filled with sincerity. Heeseung’s gaze softens momentarily before his need takes over, and he pulls you down, his cock finally breaching your entrance as you sink onto him, the stretch and fullness making your eyes roll back in pure ecstasy.

Heeseung’s strong hands grip your waist, guiding you up and down on his cock with practised ease. Each bounce sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, the thick length of him stretching you in ways that leave you breathless. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your soft, needy moans and Heeseung’s ragged breaths. He watches you through hooded eyes, his lips parted as he groans with every thrust, the sight of you taking him so eagerly making his head spin.

“Fuck, you feel even better this time,” Heeseung rasps, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows thickly. He can’t believe how tight you still are, how your body moulds perfectly around him, clenching with every movement. His hips snap up to meet your descent, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he drives himself deeper inside you. He swears for a second he can see his cock bulging out your stomach, making him groan out and quicken his pace.

Biting his lip so hard it nearly draws blood, Jake moves closer, his restraint crumbling as he watches you go up and down on Heeseung’s cock. The sight is almost too much for him to bear; he needs to feel you, to be inside you. Climbing onto the bed, he positions himself behind you, his eyes locking onto Heeseung’s, silently asking for permission to join.

Heeseung doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he cups your face, drawing your attention back to him rather than the pleasure. “You think you can take both of us, angel?” he asks, his voice thick with pride and appentence.

The mere thought sends a shiver of excitement down your spine. One cock was already bliss, but the idea of having both of them inside you at once? It’s a dream you never thought would come true. You nod enthusiastically, your smile bright and eager. “Yes. Fuck, yes.”

Jake mirrors your expression, his eyes lighting up and his cock twitching in joy. Unable to resist, he leans in and captures your lips in a kiss. It’s different from Heeseung’s - softer, more deliberate, his tongue stroking yours slowly, savouring the moment. The contrast between Jake’s gentle kiss and the way Heeseung pounds into you is dizzying, making you feel completely overwhelmed in the best way possible.

With his hands groping your ass and kneading your cheeks, Jake’s touch is gentle as he positions himself at your entrance. He feels the tight ring of muscle give way slightly under his touch, his eyes flickering with both excitement and a hint of concern. Slowly, he presses forward, the thick head of his cock nudging at your entrance. The stretch is intense, and you can’t help but claw at Jake’s shoulder, your nails digging in as you adjust to the pressure.

Heeseung pauses his movements, allowing you to catch your breath as Jake inches inside. Your body tenses, the sensation of Jake’s girth pushing into your ass making you gasp. Even though Heeseung had prepped you earlier, Jake’s cock is thick, and the tightness borders on overwhelming.

Jake’s brow furrows, his voice laced with guilt as he peppers kisses along your cheek, your jaw, your forehead - anywhere he can reach. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs between kisses, his touch tender and soothing. “I’ll go really slow until you’re ready, yeah?”

The gentleness in his voice makes your heart flutter, and despite the intensity of the stretch, you can’t help but feel safe between them. “It’s okay,” you whisper, breathless but reassuring. “I want this. You can move.”

Cautiously, Jake slides in deeper inch by inch, his own moans of ecstasy barely contained as your tight heat swallows him. The slow stretch is excruciatingly good, the pressure of being filled from both ends sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body. Heeseung keeps his hands on your waist, holding you steady as Jake finally bottoms out, the three of you perfectly locked together in a moment that feels almost unreal.

“Oh, fuck,” Jake breathes, his head tipping back as he revels in the tight squeeze around him. “You feel so fucking good.”

Heeseung’s lips curl into a smirk as he watches you both, his grip tightening possessively. “You like that, angel? You like being filled up by us?” His voice is low and rough, and you can only nod, your words lost to the pleasure.

As your body begins to adjust to the intense stretch, the rhythm between Heeseung and Jake picks up, their movements becoming more coordinated, more deliberate. Heeseung’s hands roam your body, sliding up your waist to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples as he thrusts up into you. The sensation sends jolts of pleasure shooting straight to your core, each touch amplifying the overwhelming fullness you feel. Jake’s hands grip your hips from behind, guiding you onto his cock with careful but desperate need, his fingers occasionally sliding to your lower back, tracing soft patterns as if trying to soothe the burn of being stretched so wide.

Every thrust is perfectly timed, alternating in a way that keeps you impossibly full, never a moment where you aren’t completely claimed by both of them. The feeling is indescribable - hot, tight, and exquisitely intense, every nerve in your body alight with sensation. The press of Jake’s chest against your back, the rough slide of Heeseung’s cock inside your dripping heat, and the way Jake’s fingers are now expertly working your clit all converge into one dizzying blend of pleasure. Your moans turn into high-pitched cries, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, and you’re completely lost to the overwhelming ecstasy of having them both.

Jake’s touch on your clit is unrelenting, his fingers drawing slow, firm circles that match the rhythm of their movements. Your body responds instantly, clenching tight around both of them as your orgasm builds, a pressure so fierce it almost scares you. Your breaths turn ragged, your body trembling as you cling to Jake’s shoulders for support, feeling like you might fall apart at any moment. The tension finally snaps, and you’re thrown headfirst into your release, your walls convulsing wildly around them. The sensation is blinding; your vision goes white, and your entire body locks up as the orgasm tears through you. Your head falls back onto Jake’s shoulder, mouth hanging open in a silent scream as pleasure floods every inch of your being.

“Fuck, that’s it, cum for us,” Heeseung groans, his voice thick and strained. His own restraint is slipping, the feeling of you spasming around him pushing him dangerously close to his own release. Jake watches you fall apart, his eyes glazed with lust as he feels your slick walls clench around his cock, milking him for everything he has.

Jake’s breathing is ragged, his release lingering in the air, but his eyes stay fixed on the way your body is stretched and filled between them, a look of longing and unfulfilled need still shadowing his expression. Heeseung’s thrusts are slowing, but Jake’s gaze doesn’t waver; he’s captivated, hungry for more. As he pulls out slowly, his cock slick and glistening from being inside you, he swallows thickly, his desire still burning hot despite his recent release.

“Fuck… Heeseung,” Jake starts, his voice hoarse and filled with a mix of uncertainty and desperate want. He hesitates, his eyes flicking between you and Heeseung. “Can I—can I cum inside her ass?”

Heeseung’s head snaps up, his brows knitting together in a flash of possessiveness. It’s an instinct, that primal urge to keep you all to himself, to not share the deepest parts of you. His fingers tighten slightly on your waist, and he bites his lip, conflicted. The question hangs heavy between the three of you, and you can feel the tension in the air, the silent battle playing out in Heeseung’s mind as he grapples with his possessiveness.

But before he can even form a response, you nod eagerly, your body already aching for more, for that forbidden thrill of being filled in every hole. Your eyes meet Heeseung’s, silently pleading, and he feels his resolve waver. Despite his reluctance, the look of anticipation and need on your face is impossible to ignore.

Heeseung’s gaze softens, his possessiveness yielding under the weight of your desire. He knows how much you crave this, and though the thought of Jake claiming you in such an intimate way twists something inside him, Heeseung’s need to see you satisfied trumps his jealousy. He lets out a sigh, brushing his thumb over your cheek in a tender, reassuring gesture.

“Only because she wants it,” Heeseung murmurs, his voice low and edged with reluctant surrender. He looks at Jake, then back to you, his eyes filled with a fierce, protective heat. 

Jake nods, his eyes lighting up with gratitude and excitement. The sight of you writhing between them, your body trembling and utterly spent - along with verbal permission - pushes Jake over the edge. His grip on your hips tightens, and with a few more desperate thrusts, he lets out a strangled moan, his cock pulsing inside you. He buries himself deep, the heat of his release flooding you as he spills, his cum coating your walls as he grinds against you, hips twitching with each spurt. Jake’s head drops forward, his breath hot against your shoulder as he groans through his release, the feeling of being buried in your tight heat making him shudder in bliss.

“Fuck, so tight,” Jake pants, his voice barely a whisper as he comes down from his high, his body sagging slightly but still moving in time with Heeseung’s thrusts, making sure you stay full.

Heeseung watches, utterly transfixed by the sight of Jake’s cum mixing with your slick as he continues to thrust into you. The pressure of you squeezing him so perfectly and the primal satisfaction of knowing he’s sharing this moment with Jake pushes him right to his breaking point. With a guttural moan, Heeseung snaps his hips up, filling you completely one last time before he finally lets go. His grip on your waist is bruising, his nails digging into your skin as his release surges forward, hot and thick as he empties inside you. The sensation is overwhelming, his cock twitching with every pulse as he coats your insides with his cum.

Heeseung’s thrusts slow but remain deep, his forehead pressed against yours as he breathes heavily, still caught in the aftershocks of his orgasm. “Fuck, angel, you were so perfect,” he mutters, his voice laced with awe as he watches the way your body shudders between them, completely sated and drenched in the evidence of their pleasure. Jake’s hand still lingers on your hip, squeezing gently as if to say that this moment was just the beginning, a silent promise of more to come.

With both of them still inside, you feel utterly claimed, utterly theirs, and you know that nothing else will ever compare.

As the intensity of the moment finally settles, the room falls into a comfortable, exhausted silence, only broken by the sound of labored breathing. Heeseung slowly pulls out of you, careful not to overwhelm you further, his own body still tingling from the aftershocks of his release. He can’t help but watch the way his cum mingles with Jake’s, leaking out of you in thick rivulets. The sight is so raw, so intimate, that it sends a possessive thrill through him, but he knows that now is the time for gentleness.

Heeseung’s touch shifts from passionate to tender, his hands soft and careful as he helps you lay back on the bed. You’re completely spent, your body limp and glowing with satisfaction, and Heeseung takes a moment to appreciate just how beautiful you look—flushed, a little messy, and thoroughly pleasured. He kisses your forehead softly, then moves to check over your body, his gaze sharp and attentive. There’s a hint of concern in his eyes as he inspects every inch of you, ensuring there are no signs of discomfort or strain.

“You okay, angel?” he asks, voice gentle as he runs his fingers soothingly through your hair. You nod weakly, eyes half-lidded, still lost in the blissful haze of what just transpired.

Jake, catching his breath, slips off the bed with a satisfied smile, heading to the kitchen. He quickly grabs a bottle of water and some wet wipes, his mind already shifting to aftercare. He knows how important this part is - to make sure you feel safe and loved, especially after such an intense experience. When he returns, Heeseung is still doting on you, his fingers tracing light patterns on your skin as if grounding you.

You let out a tired whine, snuggling deeper into the pillows. “Too tired,” you mumble, your voice barely above a whisper. Heeseung frowns slightly but lets it go, deciding to prioritise your comfort in this moment, knowing he’ll keep a close eye on you.

Heeseung’s protective nature kicks in, and he leans close, his voice soft but firm. “You should try to pee, angel,” he urges, knowing how your body needs it.

But you shake your head, too tired to move, too comfortable in the warm cocoon of their presence to care about anything else. “I know, baby, but it’s important,” he insists, though his tone is gentle, laced with concern.

Jake kneels beside you, his smile tender as he opens the wet wipes and begins to clean you up, his touch gentle and unhurried. He wipes away the sticky mess on your stomach, thighs, and between your legs, his movements slow. The cool touch of the wipes is soothing against your heated skin, and Jake’s soft murmurs of reassurance make you feel even more cared for.

“You did so well,” Jake praises softly, his fingers grazing your skin as he cleans you up, making sure you’re as comfortable as possible. “So perfect for us.” His eyes are full of warmth as he meets yours, and the soft, fond expression on his face makes your heart flutter.

Once you’re cleaned up, Jake hands you the water bottle, urging you to take a few sips to hydrate. You comply, though your body is still heavy with exhaustion. The cool water soothes your dry throat, and you give Jake a sleepy smile of gratitude.

“Thanks,” you whisper, your voice hoarse but content. Jake just smiles back, brushing a stray hair away from your face before discarding the used wipes and settling back on the bed.

“C’mere,” you murmur, reaching out for both of them. The need for closeness, for reassurance, is palpable in your voice, and neither Jake nor Heeseung hesitates. They each slide in beside you, one on each side, surrounding you with their warmth. Heeseung pulls you closer against his chest, his arm wrapping protectively around your waist, while Jake presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his fingers brushing over your cheek.

You sigh in contentment, the weight of their bodies grounding you, making you feel utterly safe and cherished. Heeseung’s thumb strokes your side in soothing circles, and you nuzzle closer to him, inhaling his familiar scent. Jake’s hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers as he snuggles closer, and you feel utterly enveloped by their presence.

The three of you lay there in comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow. The air is thick with the lingering scent of sex, but there’s a newfound calmness, a quiet intimacy that settles over you like a warm blanket.

As you lay nestled between Heeseung and Jake, the warmth of their bodies soothing every ache and the steady rhythm of their breathing lulling you into a sense of tranquility, your eyelids grow heavy. The soft, rhythmic strokes of Heeseung’s thumb along your side and the gentle squeeze of Jake’s hand in yours keep you tethered to the present, yet slowly, inevitably, the world begins to fade.

The sounds around you start to blur - Heeseung’s quiet, steady breaths, the faint rustle of sheets, and the soft hum of the city beyond the window. Everything seems to meld into a comforting haze, and you feel yourself slipping, drifting further into the embrace of sleep. The last thing you register is Heeseung’s fingers brushing through your hair and Jake’s lips pressing a final, tender kiss to your cheek. You surrender to the drowsiness, your body relaxing completely as you sink into a deep, contented slumber, cocooned in the safety of their presence.

With you now resting peacefully between them, Heeseung and Jake exchange a silent glance over your sleeping form. It’s a look filled with a mix of satisfaction, confusion, and a touch of uncertainty. The night had been everything they had imagined and more, but the rawness of their emotions lingers heavily between them. Neither of them had expected to feel this way - to feel so deeply connected to you through this shared experience.

Heeseung’s eyes flicker with an unspoken question, his possessiveness simmering just beneath the surface. He’s never been good at sharing what’s his, and seeing Jake so intimate with you stirs something complicated inside him. He knows he needs to sort through these feelings, but he also knows that tonight isn’t the time for it. Right now, you’re all that matters, your comfort and peace taking precedence over his own inner turmoil.

Jake meets his gaze, and for a moment, his usual easygoing demeanour falters. There’s a flicker of doubt, a quiet acknowledgement of the shift in their dynamic. The truth is, having you like this, feeling you fall apart in their hands, has only deepened his desire. But more than that, it’s solidified something within him—a need to protect and keep you close. It’s a need that, strangely enough, mirrors Heeseung’s own, despite their differences.

Neither of them speaks; there’s no need for words right now. They’ll figure it out in the morning, they tell themselves. What this means for all of them, how they’ll navigate this new and tangled web of emotions and desire—it’s a problem for another day. The only certainty they share in this moment is that you’ve become something irreplaceable, something neither of them is willing to let go of.

But there’s one unspoken agreement that hangs heavily between them: 

Sunghoon can never find out. 

perm taglist: @immortalvee @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21 @diorsyun @heexzbae @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee @haechonly @berryblog @no-mannerism @jaehoonii @notevenheretbh1 @shawnyle @addictedtohobi @jiminie-08 @emberuby @nctislifue @lilyuwon @skzenhalove @heeshlove @idkdykilr @chocminteu @y4wnjunz @rikibun @ivesti @parksunghoonsgf @branchrkive @brownsugarbaybee @xxbluestrifexx @bambangan @dollyyun @iluvikeu @deobitifull @yawnazzz @st1llm0nster @woorcve @heeseungsbm @star-hoon @heelee-01 @wonnienyang

[redflagshipwriter]

ANOTHER UNDEAD FENTON

Inspiration came from this post by @stars-obsession-pit !

Word count: 1479

Masterpost of Archive Down Fics here.

(I wrote three dp x dc fics based off of prompts I've seen in the last day for reading while the site is getting maintenance. )

There was a high, shrill scream in the Fenton lab.

Maddie bolted for the stairs, abandoning her coffee without a thought. She flung herself down to see Jack bent over a body in front of the portal.

“Is this person a threat?” Maddie prepared to defend her husband, but the body didn't move.

Jack looked up at her. “No, I was just surprised! I think he's hurt, Mads.”

Her bleeding heart husband. She crossed the room and rolled their intruder over to see it was a kid, maybe Danny's age. In his sleep, he had a sweet, soft face. His face and throat were covered in faint scars.

Well. That was one of hers, now. No getting around it. That was a teenage boy on her floor who has obviously been the victim of violence.

“Well, shit,” Maddie said companionably. She blew out air between her teeth. “Dear, would you put clean sheets on in Jazz's room?”

They were running out of space, between the clones and the past evil alternate future children.

Jack saluted her, shouted an affirmation , and bounded away.

Maddie took a moment to wonder if her children would be an infinitely expanding collection and if so, if it would be better to move into Vlad's castle than to build the home addition they had planned for.

She gathered the teenager up in her arms despite him being her size, and laid him out on an exam table. She started checking his vitals.

A hand shot out and grabbed her by the wrist.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Maddie said. She redirected her hand to smooth hair behind his ear. He blearily followed the movement, just as obviously intelligent as he was obviously compromised. She didn't know if it was a concussion or drugs or what, but this boy was not well. “It's Friday June 29th, and you're in Amity Park, Illinois. I'm Madeleine Fenton and you're at my house because you fell through a portal. Is there someone I should call for you?”

He stared at her. She could see the moment he decided not to speak to her.

That situation didn't change much all day. The kid walked himself up to bed and peered around at Jazz's old posters. He seemed to want to be alone, but Maddie caught him watching Dani and Dan playing catch in the yard. She made eye contact with him over her book and then looked back at her shrieking kids. Dan was doing flips on the trampoline and launching his sister in the air, catching and tossing her back up in the nick of time between flips.

Their new boy closed his curtains.

“I was thinking about Dante,” Jack said, bringing out a pitcher of iced tea. “Or, how about Jasper! Eh? Eh? You know, like Jazz-per?” Jack belly laughed.

“He probably has his own name,” Maddie said calmly. She'd estimated him at 16 or so, anyway. But whatever. If he wasn't going to give them a name, they did eventually need something to call him. And they needed to sort out accommodation fast, before Jazz got back from her college tour trip.

“Let's go with Jasper until he gives us his real name.” There were enough Ds in her home, honestly.

She lured Jasper out of his room for lunch. He sat at the kitchen table and watched them all warily. He only ate what they ate.

Danny arrived mid-meal. “Mom! Dad!” There was a whumpf as he probably threw himself onto the sofa. “We wanna go to Elmerton, that ok?”

“You should take your brother with you,” Maddie called back. “He needs clothes.”

“What?” Danny clearly pried himself up and came into the kitchen. Maddie silently offered to make him a plate. “No, I ate at Tuck's. Dan, what'd you do to your clothes?”

“Nothing, you pathetic worm,” said Dan, who really was a sensitive boy. “I am not the topic of discussion, you blithering fool.” He jerked a finger at Jasper. “New one.”

Danny stared.

Jasper looked uncomfortable. He gave a sort of hello nod.

“He's, uh, he's not-”

“Not a clone or alternate future version of you, nope,” Maddie agreed. “Though he did come out of the portal. We wondered if he might be a ghost, but it didn't seem necessary to ask.”

Jasper full body flinched at the word “ghost”, but he looked confused.

Danny squinted at his new bother who, it must be said, did look a bit like a Fenton already. “Not a ghost,” he said after a long pause. “But a little undead. Not sure what kind. But yeah, you're walking dead, buddy.” He clapped Jasper on the shoulder.

“You'll fit right in!” Jack cheered. “Dan is half dead! So is Danno! And so is Dani here! And-”

“Thank you, Jack,” Maddie cut him off. “It might be a sensitive subject, don't you think?”

“Nah,” said Danny, stealing food out of the pan despite saying he wasn't hungry. “We aren't that sensitive. Like-” he looked at Jasper and explained: “I got electrocuted to death in the lab two years ago. Dan is from an alternate future where everyone he loved died, so then he killed everyone else on earth. And Dani is a science experiment baby.”

“It's true,” Dani said solemnly. “I'm a work of science.”

“You make me sound so uncool,” Dan complained, stabbing at his spaghetti.

Jasper laughed for the first time. He himself seemed surprised by the sound. It was hoarse but there was promise there.

When the boys were off at the mall in Elmerton with Sam and Tucker, Maddie called up Vlad.

“You want to come here?”

“I’ve got more kids than I have rooms in my house,” she said wryly. “So if the offer is still open…”

“Yes, of course it is,” he assured her. “But- most of the little ones are still in the Ghost Zone, correct?”

“They're not big enough to leave yet,” Maddie agreed. “Which is why I need to be near a portal.” The ghostlings were staying with the LunchLady and Box Ghost, but they needed to be able to be in touch. “But no, I've got another one.”

Glass shattered in the background. “Another- what happened to Daniel this time?”

Maddie laughed at how flustered her old college friend got. “Nothing to do with Danny, actually, this one fell out of the portal. He's some level of partly dead, but we don't think he's a ghost at all.”

Left unsaid was that they needed to do a lot of research to figure out what other possibilities there were. If they could get into contact with Danny's GP, he might be able to get them on the right track.

“Well.” Vlad took a moment to rally. “When will the family be arriving?”

Two months later, all the kids were pretty settled in.

Jasper had never shared a name, but he was happy to let them call him Jay. He was a phenomenal big brother to Dani. He wrestled with Dan. He bullied Danny into doing his homework. It had been something of an administrative nightmare to get Jaspen enrolled in school, but Vlad had pulled off whatever magic trick he'd done for Dani (applied a lot of money to the problem, Maddie supposed) and Jay had settled in very well.

“Your debut in society,” Maddie hummed, making a point of straightening Jay’s tie. He was growing already, she was sure of it! He was going to wind up as tall as Jack.

“I've been to parties before, Mom,” Jay drawled, and then flushed a dark red that meant he didn't want to be asked questions. Maddie tweaked his nose instead of answering.

“But this is the first one where Vlad's introducing you to his business friends!” She said, already dressed up for a fun night. Vlad had flown them all in on his private jet for the day.

“Queen is a family man as well,” Vlad had said the night before, aiming for calculating and coming off soft. “It will put him off his guard or perhaps make him sick with envy that I have brought a higher quality child than he could ever manage to produce.”

They arrived together, Maddie on Jack's arm, keeping her flock of kids within eyesight as Vlad led the pack. She had a perfect view of Oliver Queen seeing them arrive, the smile dropping off his face, and him choking on his drink. He did look very silly, Maddie had to admit.

“Inept,” Vlad hissed, very pleased. “The fool can't even drink. His company will be mine-” he looked at Danny for some reason. Vlad faltered at whatever be saw. “....Through legitimate business practices, such as buying a majority of stocks,” Vlad weakly finished.

Maddie slapped him on the back. “Go get him, tiger.”

[somehow-a-human]

Whose POV is it Anyway?

A Companion to Owls.

DO NOT ASK NEIL ABOUT FAN THEORY

Job 30:29-31 I am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls. My skin is black upon me and my bones are burned with heat. My harp also is turned to mourning, and my organ into the voice of them that weep.

Continuing my analysis of the narrator/POV perspective of Good Omens season two with a look at the episode 2 minisode set in 2500 BC, Uz. God, I love this minisode.

For reference & context, I recommend reading these posts:

Whose POV is it Anyway? - Introduction

Lens Filters

POV "Your 'Something's Wrong' Voice"

POV a Trip to Hell and a 25 Lazarii Miracle

We open our journey into the land of Uz with Crowley giving Job's goats a speech that sounds awfully similar to his own troubled relationship with The Almighty. Crowley is alone here. The episode cold-opens and we've had no lead up to suggest otherwise, so this is Crowley's POV. His hair is short and more vibrant, I'd say this is likely the Black Diffusion FX filter.

Yes for the sake of this post I am doubling down on the fact that there are TWO SEPARATE WIGS. See more here.

Aziraphale arrives, he looks cute and silly, the permit is long, the goats are "destroyed" and they part ways.

The next scene we get is Aziraphale in heaven checking with Muriel and the Archangels that the permit Crowley has is in fact legitimate. This time, we are seeing Aziraphale's POV. Heaven is a stark white office building but the golden hue is almost overwhelming in this flashback. The Bronze Glimmer Glass filter is clearly being used here.

Aziraphale decides he's going to confront Crowley about saving the children, little does he know Crowley wouldn't harm them to begin with but regardless...

When we re-enter the minisode, we do so via a subtle zoom in on Crowley's face in modern day. We then enter the scene through Aziraphale's illustrated Bible and see Crowley asking Job where his kids are. We've again lost the golden glow of the BGG filter, moved back to the BDFX filter and into Crowley's POV. Crowley's hair is still short, Aziraphale isn't present here, he's alone, so these are his memories.

When we see Crowley walking up to the house to find the kids we have switched back to Aziraphale's POV. The scene is extremely warmly lit, it's soft and yellow, and Crowley is now in a different wig. His hair is much longer, softer and more attractive looking. In one of the X-Ray behind the Scenes videos I even caught a screenshot of the film slate from this scene and you can clearly that they've written in BGG as the filter used, so we have confirmation.

We continue through the Job minisode in Aziraphale's POV. The reveal of the goats, saving the kids, the ox rib temptation, the first conversation about loneliness, it's all from Aziraphale's POV. until after he "comes to" in the bookshop in present day.

When we revisit the minisode, and for the remainder of it we are seeing it from Crowley's POV which was an interesting thing to realize. We see Crowley and Aziraphale witness Job speaking with God, saving Jobs children, deceiving the Archangels, and having their emotionally revealing conversation overlooking the beautiful sea all from Crowley's POV. His hair remains short and more vibrant red throughout all of it, we don't see the return of his long long gingery waves. The lighting when the angels are present for the children's "resurrection" is very warm but I'm going to chalk that up to the Heavenly Hosts presence.

It makes sense that this reaction is Crowley's POV. Silly silly angel, did a good deed and thinks he's a demon?! But then he realizes how upset Aziraphale is, how scared and he comforts him. He tells him he isn't going to do anything that would hurt him, that would get him in trouble. Then, something about the fact that what follows is also from Crowley's memories, his perspective...

"That sounds..."

"Lonely? Yeah."

"But you said it wasn't."

"I'm a demon. I lied."

NEXT POV The Dirty Donkey & I think I Found a *Clue*!

[bullet-prooflove]

Goodbye Sam: Sam Abrams x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @caffeinatedwoman @maryelizabeth13 @toasted-stiletto @district447

Companion piece to:

Divorce!Series:

Part One: The Fight Before Christmas - You and Sam get into a fight after he discovers you've been keeping a secret from him.

Part Two: Should Have - There's a lot of things Sam should have done.

Part Three: Fraught - Sam makes a decision regarding your relationship.

Part Four: Sign Here - Sam serves you with divorce papers.

Part Five: Don't Look Back - After running into you at the hospital Sam tries to convince himself not to look back.

Part Six: Lost - You and Sam reaquaint the day the divorce comes through.

Part Seven: Martial Affairs - There's debate regarding yours and Sam's status.

Part Eight: The Fall - Sam and you end up back where you started before the divorce.

Part Nine: Couples Counselling - Sam and you start to date again after couple's counselling.

Part Ten: Mrs. Fuckin' Polite - Sam walks into a nightmare when he comes home one night.

It’s Sam’s last night in Chicago and you’ve both tried to make it as perfect as possible. Dinner at Orphino’s, a moonlit walk through the park with gelato from ‘The Little Italian Place’ just like on the night the two of you met. It seems fitting that it circles back like this. It’s how your marriage started, now it’s how it ends.

You find yourself back at the house you once shared, Sam undressing you in the illumination of the candlelight, Etta James serenading you in the background. He takes his time loving you, his lips exploring every single inch of bare skin before you climax on his tongue. He’ll never get tired of that taste, he’s going to miss it when he’s gone. You’re flushed and overwrought by the time he enters you, your fingers entwining as his mouth covers yours, drinking down your pleasure.

The two of you move together in the flickering light, the ecstasy building into a crescendo as you tighten underneath him.

“I love you.” He whispers at the height of it all because he knows he won’t get to say it again. He stays for as long as he can in the aftermath, his thumb ghosting over your cheek as he lays tangled up in you.

“I’m going to miss this.” He whispers against your lips “I’m going to miss you.”

You fall asleep wrapped up in one another until his phone chimes a couple of hours later rousing you, reminding him of his flight. He dresses in the glow from the burnt down candles as you drape your robe over your naked form. Your fingers interlink with his as you walk him to the door, his suitcase already perched alongside of it, waiting.

“So this is goodbye.” You say quietly as he lingers and Sam swallows hard against the well of emotion in his chest.

“Yea.” He whispers, his forehead coming to rest upon yours. “Elle I…”

There are so many things he wants to say but all of them are redundant because in the end it all comes down to this.

He has to go and you have to stay.

After Lucy’s rapist Marcus Croyton had been released back into the wild, the fear of running into him, of it happening again became too much. She suffered a break down and was now recovering in a facility in New York, where she could be close to her mother. Sam had dropped everything immediately, taking a sabbatical to support her before he’d made the decision to relocate, taking a position in Mount Sinai Hospital.

“I know I can’t ask you to come with me.” He’d told you, his hand clasping your hand tightly in his over dinner one evening. “You need to be here for your patients, for your mother…”

She’d been diagnosed with Parkinson’s a few months before, she was rapidly declining and you needed to be here to help her manage the condition.

“And you need to be with your daughter.” You’d finished, squeezing his hand in solidarity. “It’s ok Sam, I understand.”

You do and that’s one of the reasons that Sam loves you, because you support him with the hard choices, even when they break both of your hearts.

“Goodbye Elle.” He whispers as he kisses you one last time.

“Goodbye Sam.” You say as you open the door and watch the man you love walk away for good.

Love Sam? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[chrissdollie]

eclipse part one˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

♡ series playlist

♡ a/n: so i decided to post the chapters after i write them. this does mean that they'll posted far apart and not every other day like i originally intended. for those of you who don't already know, this series is pretty much the first three twilight books with my own twists hehe. it's going to be separated into three Acts. Act 1: Twilight, Act 2: New Moon, Act 3: Eclipse. i can't wait for this journey and hope u guys enjoy it ! :)

♡ summary: you moved from the sizzling hot arizona to the depressive rainy washington in a small town called forks. it was terribly boring.. until you meet a gorgeous townie and fall in love. but what do you do when your childhood friend interferes with your feelings? ♡ warnings/notes: a matt sturniolo and chris sturniolo love triangle series, cursing, lowercase intended, use of "yn", cry!baby reader n/n = nickname ♡ wc: 3.5k

♡ masterlist

ACT 1: TWILIGHT

you miss arizona terribly. moving to the small town of forks in washington was something you never would have dreamed of. your wacko mom sent you to stay with your father for a while and start a new life while she went away with phil, her new husband. it had rained every single day since the moment your plane landed-- it was summer when you moved. you despise it here. summer was supposed to be hot, and you should have been going to the pool! you were going to get a lovely tan to show off for the new school year, but instead, you were stuck inside your girly room reading for the entire break.

though you must admit, when you first entered the shabby house filled with dingy furniture--(you could practically hear your mother's voice complaining), you hadn't expected to get so comfortable so quick. charlie, your dad, wasn't half bad. he's a cool and laid-back guy who didn't prod into your life and bug you as much as you thought he would. unexpectantly, your small black kitten lilith took a liking to him too. lilith is your little companion who you bring along anywhere. her fur's always decorated in cute pink bows so the two of you could match. in a way, she's your best (and now only) friend.

as you sit in a rusty old truck gifted to you by charlie, you bite the inside of your cheek, looking around the tarnished vehicle with a distasted frown on your gloss-covered pouty lips. you couldn't complain, of course, you really appreciated it. you've been wanting a car for forever... but it was so slow!

groaning at the speedometer, you realize that the maximum speed is 55. you sigh, deciding to stop nitpicking the truck considering it's the only one you've got. the rain pitter-patters on your windows along with your squeaky windshield wipers swiping the water off. you pull into your new school's parking lot where students were just beginning to arrive. you put the vehicle into park, but you don't get out right away.

you exhale as your manicured nails anxiously tap against the steering wheel. you miss your friends back home. you don't want to go here! everybody looks so dreadful. besides, you'd already spent the last two years sucking up to your teachers. all of that was down the drain now. and to make matters even worse, forks high school has an underwhelming amount of students: 357 kids-- well, 358 now. in this small town, everybody knows everybody, which means that everyone is going to know that you're an arizonian freak... maybe you're overreacting.

you bite your glossy lip hesitantly before grabbing your pink puffer tote and umbrella. you quickly jump out and slam the truck door shut. you hurriedly rush to the main building where you're greeted by a woman in a purple t-shirt, automatically making you feel overdressed in your denim skirt and pretty brandy melville shirt with a brown zippered jacket over it-- not to mention the sum of all your accessories. you close your umbrella and greet the woman back with a soft smile. she kindly hands you a map of the school and your assigned schedule. "your first class is in building three, room 3-104, dearie."

you nod and thank the lady for her help before opening your umbrella again to head to the building with a black "3" sloppily painted on the side. you open the door, stepping inside and shutting your umbrella once more before walking down the hall to your classroom, checking the number on your paper schedule to be sure. you arrive, your hand reaching for the doorhandle, taking a quick breath. you'd already gotten a few double takes in response to your girly appearance when you were strolling down the hallway. you hope no one bothers you about it.

the door opens creakily. the classroom is small and tight, almost suffocating. you hang up your coat on one of the hooks lined up against the wall. walking up to the teacher's desk, you hand him a late pass with your basic information. you prepare the words you're going to say when you're asked to introduce yourself. you aren't a social person, so maybe this'll be good for you! but the scruffy man grunts and points to an empty desk at the back of the room. oh. well, it'd be hard for people to judge your appearance in the back, so you can't say you're disappointed.

you kept your eyes down for most of the class, not bothering to scan the room and learn people's faces along with their names. the teacher had given you a reading list, but you'd already read everything before. shakespeare, bronte, faulker.. how boring! though it was also a comfort that you already knew everything and had nothing to worry about. suddenly, the bell rings-- not a satisfying chime like the one back home, more nasally and uncomforting. a short but brawny boy sitting in front of you turns around and brushes back his fluffy brown hair. "you're yn swan, aren't you?"

"uh-huh." you nod, looking up in small surprise. some people turned their heads to see why their friend was speaking to the weird girl from out of town. he hums contently. "where's your next class?" he asks, not even bothering to tell you his name. "oh, uhh.." you check your schedule before looking back up. "...government with jefferson. building six." his curious eyes brighten. "i'm headed to building four.. i could show you the way? i'm nate." the corner of your lips turn up. "that'd be really helpful, thank you." you smile in a friendly manner, nate smiling with you.

the two of you picked up your jackets and headed out into the rain, which had picked up heavily. as you walked, you noticed a few people lurking behind you-- almost as if they were eavesdropping nosily. nate clears his throat. "soo, this is pretty different from pheonix, huh?" he shoves his hands into his pockets as his head cocks towards you who's still looking down. "oh yeah, very."

"how often does it rain?"

"mm, three or four times a year."

"shit, what's that like?" he chuckles.

you shrug awkwardly. "sunny."

once you two reach your class, nate opens the door for you, a little over-helpfully. "well, good luck. maybe we'll see each other again in some other class." he said almost hopefully. you nod vaguely and head inside. the rest of the morning passed by in fast forward. your trig teacher was the only one who made you stand in front of your classmates to introduce yourself-- you stammered and tripped over your shoes on the way back to your seat.

in every subject, there was always at least one person who decided to be bold and chatty, asking you questions about living here in forks compared to pheonix. in all honesty, you just lied a lot. you didn't want to be that loser who hated something without really giving it a chance, so you repeated the same phrase every time someone asked how you were liking forks so far. "it's cool! this is what i needed, a change of atmosphere." one girl sat next to you in trig and french, a pale girl with a ginger ponytail. she was the chattiest of chatterboxes.

in trig, she turned to you abruptly, grabbing your hand. your eyes widened unexpectantly, but she spoke before you could. "hi! are you new here? i've never seen you before. wow, you're SO pretty!! i love your outfit, it's so cute. everyone normally dresses like they're homeless, but not you-- oh! my name is jessica, sorry, that was SO rude.."

she thoughtfully demanded she walk you to lunch, prattling about teachers and students as you walked to the cafeteria, but you didn't try too hard to keep up. she leads you towards a long table, full of her friends. she introduces you to every single one and you annoyingly forget all of their names as soon as she says them. you sit squished between all seven students, trying to keep up with the conversation when a certain group captures your attention.

they're sat in the corner of the cafeteria away from everyone else. there's four, but none of them spoke. they didn't bother to look anywhere else besides their table, so your eyes were free to roam. they all grabbed curiosity without even trying-- they're angelic. two boys and two girls. the girls look like polar opposites. one is tall with luscious golden hair, the type that'd make any girl furious with envy. the smaller one is chubby with long silky black hair. her eyes are big and doe-like. the boys seem to be twins, but you can easily tell the difference. the bigger one is wearing a blue zip-up sweater but still manages to look majestic. you notice he often messes with his red-dyed hair or nose ring. and then you shift your gaze to the other twin. he was the most beautiful out of them all. his small silver earrings shook as he moves his head to the side, clearly thinking about something. he has tattoos littering his arms, giving him a tough image.

at the same time, they're all very similar. every one of them is chalky pale, very pale. they all have dark eyes despite the difference in hair coloring. they also have dark shadows under their eyes, like they were suffering from many sleepless nights. you can't look away. they look perfect. inhumanly beautiful. the students at your table were still talking to you though they weren't exactly aware that you hadn't been listening for at least five minutes. "erm- jessica. who are they?" your words stop the conversation as the students' eyes follow your pointed finger. their eyes flicker over to the table before back to you within a second. jessica giggles almost nervously. "well, that's rosalie and madison filipowicz, and nicolas and matthew sturniolo. they all live with jimmy sturniolo and his wife." she lowered her tone so only people close by can hear.

you don't mind keeping your eyes on them, they're mesmerizing. "so, which are the sturniolos? the girls don't look related.."

jessica glances towards them again. "they're not. they were both adopted by dr. jimmy and his wife, marylou. nick and matt are twins obviously and they're the doctor's actual kids." you nod along and find your focus staying mostly on matthew. his long pale fingers slowly peel an orange, his eyes filled with boredom. you don't move your glance when you talk again. "have they always lived here?"

jessica replies in a voice implying that it should be obvious, "no, they moved here two years ago from alaska or some shit, i dunno.."

you're still examining them when matthew looks up directly at you. your eyes widen and turn away immediately filled with embarrassment. jessica noticed you eyeing him and grins. "matt doesn't date. bummer, 'cus he's totally gorgeous.. guess none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him. self-absorbed rich boy..." she mutters the last part under her breath and you wonder if he's turned her down before. you bite your lip to cover up your smile, then you look at him again. his face is turned away, but it looks like his cheek's lifted as if he were smiling too.

lunch went by fast and your next class is biology two. when you get to the room, you notice that all the black-topped lab tables are taken with partners-- except for one. right in the center, matthew from lunch sits by himself. you huff quietly and walk down the aisle to your teacher's desk to introduce yourself. and of course, he assigns you to the only free seat next to matt. when you're walking back to the table, you notice how he's become stiff and rigid in his chair. he looks at you with a strange expression, a furious expression.

you avoid eye contact, sitting down and dropping your bag on the floor next to you. matt readjusts himself so that he's leaning away from you, as far away as possible. you scoff silently, wondering what his problem is. maybe it was what happened at lunch? oh shit, he probably thinks you're a creep. your teacher begins a lecture on cellular anatomy, something you already did back home. you decide to take notes anyway, pulling out gel pens and highlighters.

you feel his eyes on you again. staring. criticizing. you don't care though. you perkily take your pretty notes and he'll just have to deal with the noises of uncapping and recapping highlighters. you glance down at his arm laying on the table close to you. it's pale and muscular. his hand's clenched into a tight fist and you can't help but wonder if it's because of you. nono, it is because of you. it's almost ten minutes later and he still hasn't relaxed his tense figure, so the annoyed clench must be your fault.

the class ends after what felt like forever. as the loud bell rings, matt abruptly sprints out of his seat with his belongings and rushes out the door. you exhale with a pout. why is he so mean? maybe you should've apologized for admiring him during the earlier period. you start piling your stuff into your pink bag, ignoring the hot tears rising and blurring your vision. infuriatingly, you cry for everything like a little baby. you pull your schedule out of your pocket, unfolding it to see your next class. last period is p.e? that sucks. not only are you terrible at anything physical, you're gonna go home a sweaty mess.

you make it to the girls' locker room and see jessica tying her bright red hair up into a tight ponytail. she notices you walking in and smiles brightly. "oh my gosh, hi yn!! what a coincidence you're here! i haven't seen you since lunch, feels like it's been hours-" as she begins to ramble, you choose a locker and load your jacket and purse inside. while she's talking, another girl comes up behind her, tapping her shoulder fast. "jess! chris is coming to pick up nate after school." she shrieks, clapping her hands together excitedly. jessica's eyes widen and her smile somehow grows wider.

you watch the both of them squeal, and wonder if they're talking about your chris, your best friend when you were younger and visited forks on holiday breaks. jessica catches your eye and calms down to explain. "christopher owen is the hottest guy you'll ever see! probably even better looking than matt- you remember, right? the guy i was showing you- yeah anyway, he lives in la push which totally sucks but his best friend goes here so sometimes he comes on his motorcycle to pick him up."

you nod along. "christopher owen? like.. brown hair blue eyes?" you realize how his face kind of reminds you of matthew and nicolas. but maybe your memory's just hazy. jessica's eyes widen like a cartoon. her friend grabs her hand, "holy shit, you know him?! you have to introduce us, pleaseee!!"

you shrug awkwardly. "oh, i dunno. i haven't seen him in a couple of years-" you're thankfully cut off when the coach walks in and blows his whistle to signal that class is starting. the two girls badger you as you walk out into the gym where a volleyball net is set up. ah great. you cringe just thinking about the so many ways you could get hurt.

forty-five minutes later, you only got hit on your head by the ball two times! that's a win. jessica and her friend make it to the locker room before anyone else, collecting their stuff and yours to then run back to where you're still not even out of the gymnasium yet. they grab both of your arms and drag you out of the building. jessica's friend lets go of your arm, shoving her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. "can i see your schedule?" she asks, holding her hand out. you hum, "sure, one sec.." you check your jacket pockets just to find them empty. "uh.." you mutter, looking through your bag.

"maybe you dropped it somewhere?" she suggests, peeking into your bag. you sigh and stop walking. "i have to get another one. when does the front office close?" you question hurriedly. "umm in a bit! go!! but be back quick, chris is gonna leave soon.." jessica whines at the last part. you hold onto your bag tightly and run to building one, the wind strongly blowing in your face along with little drops of rain. you swing the door open and see matthew standing in front of the receptionist's desk. you bite the inside of your cheek unpleasantly. he's arguing with the woman in a low attractive voice. it sounds like he's trying to trade sixth period biology to any other class... wait a damn minute.

your mouth opens into an 'o' with pinched eyebrows. he has biology with you. what a dick! he turns around annoyed and gives you a cold glare. he exhales and turns back to the receptionist. "nevermind. it's alright, thanks anyway." he waves his hand and storms out the door like earlier. your lip quivers but you blink back tiny tears, walking up to the desk. you explain the stupid situation, already beginning to show your irresponsibility. she prints a second schedule and hands it to you without a problem. "how was your first day?" she toothily smiles.

you purse your lips. "not bad" is all you say before you're waving to the sweet lady and walking out the door. you see a small crowd formed in the parking lot and catch sight of jessica and her friend with hands on their mouths. you curiously walk faster to where they stand. you see a big intimidating motorcycle revving up to which the students cheer. wow. you weren't wrong, chris looks identical to nick and matt. however, you fold your arms with a big grin spreading on your face. your childhood friend sits on the bike, his fluffy hair blowing in the wind. jessica latches onto your arm, "talk to himm!" she urges. you suck your teeth.

"why aren't you wearing a helmet??" you call out maternally. some people turn around, but you keep looking at chris' reaction when his eyes go big. "IS THAT MY- holdon man." he starts but slaps nate's shoulder as he gets off his bike. chris chuckles, observing your face. he's big, much bigger than you expected. his arms are large and lean in his black tank top-- gosh, he must be cold. he comes up to you, ruffling your hair with his big hand. "i'm not wearing a helmet 'cus it'll fuck up my hair. what the fuck are ya doin' here? it's been so long!"

you giggle, giving him a hug. he pats your back somewhat awkwardly as the small crowd begins to decrease as people get into their cars. jessica and her friend hang around and squeal girlishly at the physical contact, but you ignore them. "i moved here over the summer!- wow, you're tall." you look up at him, cheeks starting to hurt from all the smiling. he kisses your head in a friendly manner and pulls away from the hug. "yeah, justin says i'm gettin' too big to live with." he grins playfully. you like how his face didn't change that much compared to the rest of his body. he still has the same cheesy smile that was always plastered on his face.

"well, how d'ya feel bein' here? actually, my bad n/n-" you let out a small giggle at the familiar nickname that only he was allowed to call you. "-i gotta take this punk home. but i'll stop by your place soon, promise." he gives you another quick hug before patting your head jokingly. you laugh, waving his hand off. "okay, bye!!" you wave as he gets onto his motorcycle, nate clinging onto his back. he gives you a small wink and drives off.

"i didn't know chris was a triplet.." you mutter. jessica happens to pick it up. "oh yeah, but i guess they're not really close. they never talk to each other when chris comes here. actually.. i don't think i've ever seen them all together." she quickly shrugs it off, changing the subject. interesting, chris doesn't even have the same last name as matt and nick. you shake away these thoughts, who cares? not any of your business anyway. you catch matthew getting into the driver's seat of a white volvo a few cars down from yours. he eyes you for a quick second before pulling out and driving away. you chuckle in disbelief. dick.

♡ tags ♡

@leah-loves-lilies @imtalkinnonsense @star-sturn @junnniiieee07 @mattsneezing @freshloveee @freshsturns @emma4eva @r6diosturns @matthasmywholeheart @donthugmeimhot @blahbel668 @chrissturnsss @joanofarcily @mattscoquette @slutsturn @imsosillygoofylol @joanofarcily @slutsturn @imsosillygoofylol @sturnioloremarker @ashley9282828 @jnkvivi @sturncakez

[rosiesatombomb]

Nick Valentine/reader, Deacon/Reader

Gn reader, Sfw, famous sole survivor

Nick valentine and deacon come across a holotape of a famous prewar sole

Requests still open! For writing and now fallout doodles or sketches!!

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Nick Valentine

He knew he recognized you from somewhere but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Something about how you spoke—about your face, it all seemed way too familiar. Throughout your time traveling together he tried putting the pieces together, but he was still coming up blank. He wanted to ask you upfront but he didn’t know how to exactly to phrase it so he dropped it, until he found the holotape.

You two were walking around through the wasteland until you found an abandoned house, it was falling apart but it would do good as shelter for the night at least. Tossing their bag on the floor you made your way to the rather disgusting looking sleeping bag that laid on the floor, a huff escaped their lips as they sat down on the bag. Nick didn’t need to sleep but he liked having time to rest up, whether that be for a smoke break or to read a chapter or two of the latest book he was reading. Right now Nick was looking around the house, probably looking for supplies or something of that nature, your eyes scanned him as he went through the desk that sat near the door; he was looking over a holotape that sat on the desk.

His eyes narrowed as the scanned the tape, it looked fairly old and worn so…why would it be labeled with their name? He was silent for a moment contemplating the possibilities, hell maybe this was a family members house or…something. He hummed softly as he walked off from the desk, tossing them the holotape: “might wanna take a look at that.” He gestured to the tape that sat beside them now, trying to gauge their expression.

Once you explained the fact you were a famous singer prewar it clicked—he had seen your face on billboards, heard your voice on the radio. A small smile formed on his tattered lips as he looked down at you, “so that’s why I recognized you.” He chuckled softly as you held the tape, happy with the fact that the mystery was solved.

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Deacon

Deacon has always been interested in pre-war television, he always wanted to find an actual functioning television but that was basically impossible in the wasteland. He often spends most of his time going to old movie stores and going through the burnt magazines and tapes, he practically hordes them. His eyes widened as he found a magazine with a familiar face.

They walked through the streets eyeing the old stores that surround them, praying to find an old supermarket or something similar. “Hey boss—“ they turned their head to face their companion as he motioned to a building, in bold letters above the entrance it read, “movies”. They cocked an eyebrow before he spoke once more, “cmon you never know what prewar gadgets they got in those places.” he said with his typical smile as you two made your way in. It was dusty—as if no one had been in here since the bombs dropped. Deacon almost immediately went to the holotapes, sorting through them as his partner scavenged the room for any food, weapons or the typical junk. His eyes drifted aside to the magazine rack, raising an eyebrow as he picked up a magazine.

He chuckled for a moment as he held the magazine up, “you gotta see this boss” he said as he moved to their side. He held up the magazine while glancing back and fourth between the two, “it’s identical!” setting the magazine down he watched their expression change as they started to chuckle themselves, “Deacon that is me.”

His eyebrows shot up as he glanced back down at the magazine, noticing their name on the cover. He smiled once more as he walked back over to the holotapes, “wow, guess I need glasses.” He chuckled, sorting through them until he found one of their old movies and stuffing it into his pocket, “We’re definitely having a movie night.”

Deacon in all reality knew, their name was on the cover he wasn’t stupid. He just wanted to bring it up in someway, he’d seen their face on all sorts of posters in the commonwealth. Deacon had always been fascinated by acting, he practically does it himself…but doing it professionally is a whole different thing. He also really wants to watch your movies.

[theblackhate]

Knowledge pt.1

check out the other parts here!

Summary:

The story begins the same for everyone, on the day of the ceremony, one of the most important for all the kids who take part in it every year, and Michelle will not miss the opportunity to leave behind a faction that she did not feel belonged to her.

On her journey, however, she will encounter someone who will make her initiation feel like hell.

Pairing: Eric Coulter x reader

Word count: 3.3k

"Wake up, or you'll be late," a woman with short bobbed hair entered Ellie's room, opening the blinds to let in the morning rays. She stood, hands on hips, wearing a displeased expression. "What were you up to last night? I heard you come back late, too late."

"I was with Anne," Ellie stretched, trying to awaken her still-sleepy muscles.

"Always up to something, you two," the woman continued to complain as she left Ellie's room, closing the door behind her and yelling for Ellie to get ready for the Test.

"Good morning to you too, Mom," Ellie thought as she rose to begin dressing, opting for a simple white suit with a black turtleneck to wear underneath.

She took a quick shower to fully wake up and paused to look at herself in the mirror. Her long brown hair framed her pale face, caused by the little time she actually spent outdoors during the day; she preferred the night.

She left her hair down that day, the sky covered with dense clouds and the wind blowing strongly as she stepped out of the house, tousling her hair.

As she exited the building, she was greeted by Anne, who approached her with a big smile, jumping onto her and wrapping her arms around Ellie's neck. "Hi, Ellie!"

"Hi, Anne. I see you're in a good mood," despite their conversation from the previous evening, Anne seemed like her usual self, tears replaced by a big smile.

"There's no point in moping, don't you think? And besides, we still have the whole day to spend together," she said, starting to walk, trying to catch up with the rest of the group of Candors.

Ellie adjusted her jacket, feeling chilly. "You're right, this might as well be the last one."

Anne tried not to let what her best friend had just said affect her; the smile was in danger of fading the more she thought about it. Their separation was inevitable, she knew that well, but it didn't hurt any less.

They quickened their pace and finally joined their companions, who were chatting animatedly among themselves, ignoring the two girls nearby and casting glances in their direction.

Neither of them let the comments they overheard about themselves sway them, walking with their heads held high until they reached the building where they would take part in the test.

"Everything will be alright," Ellie whispered into Anne's ear, seeing her agitated; she was nervously biting her cuticles.

"It's just that... Ellie, what if the test says I'm something I don't believe I am?"

Ellie looked at her with a touch of pity; anxiety consumed her from within every time they had an important event, and the Attitude Test was the most crucial day of their lives.

In contrast, she was calm; her hands tingled from the long wait that would lead to The Choosing Ceremony, her only chance for escape.

"You don't have to choose what the test tells you, you know that," she replied, joining the queue with her peers, observing the boys and girls from other factions doing the same.

Anne spoke to her, but if she were honest, she wasn't listening; she had become lost in watching the different groups of youths join their respective lines. It was a beautiful sight to see five distinct lines, neatly separated by five different colors.

Slowly but steadily, the line moved, letting hundreds of boys and girls from all factions into a massive hall with seats for each of them; a woman dressed in blue with a tightly pulled chignon stood in front of a blackboard, her gaze stern as she watched the youths enter.

Once everyone was seated and silence fell over the room, the woman began to speak, explaining the history of their city, the utility of the Attitude Test, and the importance of the Choosing Ceremony. These were crucial for maintaining order within their society.

But Ellie wasn't exactly paying attention; a notebook on her thigh and a small pen in hand, she doodled random lines on the paper; she didn't care to pay attention, she just wanted lunchtime to arrive so they could start with the tests.

That was her only thought for the next few hours, with the woman's voice in the background and Anne beside her continuing to nibble at her cuticles.

A bell signaled the end of the long lesson, prompting the students to split into various small groups for lunchtime. She and Anne took a table apart from the others, away from any other group to spend some uninterrupted time.

"Was the lesson that boring?" Anne asked her, nibbling on a piece of meat, having no appetite.

Ellie shrugged, continuing to eat. "A bit, it's stuff we already know," she said with her mouth full, looking at Anne. "These lessons are pointless."

Anne looked around the lively cafeteria, sighing before pushing away the plate in front of her. "If I eat anymore, I'll vomit."

They fell into silence until five volunteers, each from a different faction, entered the cafeteria to call two students at a time. The redhead began to fidget more, her hands trembling as she watched her peers leave the cafeteria to take the test.

Ellie took her hand, running her thumb over the back of it to try to comfort her. It pained her to see the person closest to her in such a state of anxiety, but alas, Ellie was the last person capable of consoling anyone.

"I can't do this," Anne said, holding her head in her free hand. Her palms were starting to sweat, and Ellie tried to ignore it so as not to make her feel worse; she was disgusted by having her sweaty hand on hers.

The ten students remained inside the rooms for just over five minutes each, some longer than others, and in no time, the second set of students was called.

The cafeteria was now engulfed in silence, each student engrossed in thoughts about their future. Would they leave everything behind just because the test gave them a different result from their original faction?

Almost ten minutes later, the volunteers emerged again.

"For the Candor, Anne Bishop and Ellie Black," the Candor called before returning to the corridor from which he had come, expecting the girls to follow him.

With great calm, they got up, leaving the cafeteria to finally make their way to the rooms where they would take the test. Anne didn't let go of Ellie's hand until they were standing in front of two separate doors.

"Good luck," Ellie whispered to Anne as they entered their respective rooms. The door closed immediately behind her, leaving her alone with a woman dressed entirely in black.

The room was completely covered in mirrors with a chair in the center, the woman was typing something on the computer without showing any sign of having seen Ellie, who stopped to observe her.

She was an Asian woman with long black hair and clothing typical of the Dauntless faction, perhaps the sleek black jacket was too big for her. Ellie noticed a tattoo on the back of her neck but couldn't make out what it was, her hairs was on the way.

The woman turned around, a fairly serene expression on her face. "Nervous?" she asked, smiling at her. "Don't worry, it doesn't hurt."

"No," Ellie replied, still standing.

The woman gestured for her to take a seat in the chair. "Make yourself comfortable, I'll be with you in a second," she said, returning to enter data into the computer.

Ellie observed the room, her image being reflected multiple times, creating a strange optical illusion.

"My name is Tori," the woman said, turning towards her with a reassuring smile and a curious gaze. "I've never seen a Candor so quiet before."

"There's a first time for everything," Ellie replied quickly, irritated by the phrase that had been repeated to her her whole life. She looked ahead, ignoring the glare Tori sent her way.

"Now I'll attach these. They'll allow me to see your choices," Tori said, attaching two suction cups to Ellie's temples. A slight shock passed through Ellie's body. "Drink."

She handed Ellie a small cup containing a slightly blue liquid, its consistency resembling that of water. Perhaps Tori sensed her insecurity and wanted to reassure her that it was harmless, but Ellie took a deep breath before bringing the cup to her lips and swallowing the liquid.

In a few seconds, she felt a strange sensation, like dizziness, before closing her eyes and reopening them; she immediately noticed how the room had changed, the Dauntless woman had disappeared, and the room had widened.

The simulation had begun.

She rose from the chair she had been sitting on to inspect the room and noticed how the door had also changed, but when she reached out to touch one of the mirrors, a voice interrupted her.

"Choose!"

Ellie spun around abruptly, but when she tried to figure out who had spoken, she was met only by her reflection. When she turned back again to touch the mirror, she found two different pedestals in front of her.

One displayed a slice of cheese, while on the other rested a dagger. Ellie immediately reached for the dagger; it would be useful in various situations and objectively much more useful than a simple piece of cheese.

In an instant, the pedestals disappeared, leaving the room empty again.

Ellie observed the dagger in her hands, the cold blade against her palm sending shivers down her spine. What would happen if she even lightly pressed the blade into her palm?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a fierce growl, and a large dog with froth around its mouth began to charge at her; she stood still, waiting for the dog to come close enough to defend herself and, if necessary, attack.

"Oh, a puppy!"

Another voice chimed in, but this time, when Ellie turned, a little girl dressed in white stood behind her. She observed her for a few seconds, completely forgetting about the dog that was about to attack her.

However, at her feet, a whimper caught her attention; a puppy.

She looked around; the fierce dog from before had disappeared, replaced by an adorable puppy. She bent down to pet it, noticing out of the corner of her eye how the little girl was slowly approaching.

She shifted her gaze from the puppy for a second, just in time to see the little girl's happy face contort into an expression of fear. The growl returned, and when she looked back at the dog, she saw how the sweet puppy had turned back into the fierce dog from moments before.

The latter lunged at the little girl, but Ellie stopped it in time by throwing herself onto it and plunging the dagger into the animal's body. She closed her eyes; she didn't like the idea of hurting an animal regardless of its actions.

But she didn't feel the dagger hit anything, and when she opened her eyes, she noticed she wasn't in the room full of mirrors anymore, but rather on a bus, an old man reading the newspaper next to her.

Ellie immediately noticed the image of a man on the front page, with a caption calling him a brutal murderer.

The man reading the newspaper lowered it, eyeing the girl and narrowing his eyes. "Do you know him?" he asked, pointing to the man's face on the front page, his voice trembling.

Ellie had never seen him before, yet there was something familiar about him, like an invisible thread connecting them. She wanted to answer him, to tell him that maybe she had seen him somewhere before, but she stopped herself before a single word escaped her mouth.

She couldn't.

She decided to ignore the man, looking straight ahead and ignoring his pleas.

The man's pleas turned into distant lament, and Ellie closed her eyes, reopening them immediately after. She was back in the initial room, Tori next to her, observing the computer screen.

"The Test gone well" Tori removed the suction cups she had previously placed on Ellie's temples, returning to the computer to input more data. "You've been identified as Dauntless. I hope to see you in a few days."

She turned towards Ellie, smiling and gesturing that she could leave the room.

Ellie didn't linger on the chair any longer than necessary, leaving as soon as she was given the green light. She stood still in the hallway for a few seconds, hoping to encounter Anne, but a volunteer urged her to leave to make room for the next group.

She was ushered out through the back door where various youths from different factions were talking among themselves, some happier than others. She tried to scan the crowd for her best friend but without success; it was as if she had vanished into thin air.

She attempted to wait for her for several minutes, even an hour, but eventually, bored and likely assuming Anne had left without her, she headed home.

During her journey, the sky clouded over and a few drops began to fall, but she didn't seek shelter, too lost in her thoughts.

Dauntless? Could she really be one of them?

Her heart began to beat fast in her chest; she knew she would be leaving her faction, but the idea that the day had finally arrived filled her with a strange anxiety.

The unknown worried her; she was aware of the challenges of initiation among the Dauntless and wondered if she would be able to pass it.

She hurried home as the rain began to intensify, the sky growing darker, and she needed to see Anne, to know how she was and especially what her result had been.

The rules were clear; it was forbidden to reveal the result of the Attitude Test, but the two friends had sworn to tell each other at least.

When she arrived home, she was relieved to notice that her mother was still at work, so she took the opportunity to leave the house again and take the elevator to Anne's floor. In less than five minutes, she stood in front of Anne's apartment door and knocked, patiently waiting for a response.

The door opened shortly after, but it wasn't Anne who greeted her; instead, it was her mother. Her expression changed, a genuine smile appeared on her face. "Oh, hi Ellie! How are you, dear? Come in!"

The woman made space for her to enter. "Good morning, Mrs. Bishop. I'm fine, thank you. And you?"

"I'm good, dear. How did the test go?" Mrs. Bishop gave her a warm hug, a small part of her old faction never left her.

"Good, I'm happy with the result. Have you seen Anne?"

The woman's expression darkened, the smile fading. "Uh, she's in her room. I don't think she's happy with the result. She came home early because she wasn't feeling well during the test," she whispered the last part to avoid being heard by her daughter, who had returned home in tears.

Ellie thanked her before heading towards Anne's room. Some of their photos were hung on the door; she stood still, observing them for a while, reliving the countless memories that would be lost in less than twenty-four hours.

Ellie knocked, and shortly after she opened the door, closing it behind her.

Anne was shattered, her face covered in tears as she hugged the pillow and didn't even look at Ellie when she entered. Unsure of what to do, her friend glanced around, feeling slightly uncomfortable seeing her best friend in tears and being unable to help her.

Trying to regain some composure, Anne sat on the bed and wiped away her tears. She made space on the bed for Ellie, who gladly sat down, putting an arm around her shoulders.

And that's when Anne burst into endless tears, burying her face in Ellie's shoulder. Ellie began to stroke her back to provide some comfort.

It's unknown how long they stayed there, with Anne crying and Ellie thinking about the Choosing Ceremony that would take place the next morning. She glanced down to see her friend lying down, using her legs as a pillow.

When Anne managed to calm down, she got up to go to the bathroom, and shortly after, she returned with a still-red face and clothes wrinkled from the position she had been in.

"I guess it didn't go very well, I imagine," Ellie whispered, trying to be as tactful as possible, and she sighed with relief when she saw that Anne sniffed without falling into tears again.

"Amity, my result," Anne said, looking at the floor and continuing to nibble on her cuticles.

Ellie nodded. "Dauntless."

Anne gave her a small smile. "It wasn't hard to figure out."

"I could say the same about you," but Ellie's words seemed to hurt Anne somehow, causing her eyes to well up again

"Anne, are you okay?"

Ellie approached her again, but her friend recoiled when she tried to touch her arm. "Yes, I just felt sick during the test. That's all."

"Are you sure, I—" 

"Can you just go, please?" Anne's tone was sharp, catching Ellie off guard. She had never received such treatment from her best friend before. Sensing her mistake, Anne closed her eyes. "I need to think..."

Ellie left without giving her a chance to finish her sentence, irritated by her behavior. She always tried to do her best for her, to comfort her even if she wasn't capable of it, and the fact that she was being dismissed like that when she was just trying to help bothered her a lot.

She returned home to seclude herself in her room, hoping her mother would leave her alone until dinnertime, but luck was not on her side that day. In fact, when she closed the door behind her, she saw her mother sitting at the table in the living room.

Her gaze lifted as she saw her only daughter entering the house in a hurry, a un-happy expression on her face as she tried to avoid eye contact with her.

"How did the attitude test go? Are you pleased with the result?" Despite her feigned interest in her daughter's affairs, she couldn't deny she was curious about which faction her daughter belonged to.

"Well, goodbye," Ellie replied, slamming her bedroom door shut, bidding her mother farewell for the last time. The next day, she would have to go to work early; many of her colleagues would be absent due to the Choosing Ceremony to accompany their children.

And Ellie would wait until late at night to have dinner, wanting to avoid as much contact with her mother as possible, knowing she would try to get her to reveal which faction she had chosen.

She would find out the next day, from the whispers in the corridors after the Ceremony, but she didn't want to give her mother the satisfaction of knowing before everyone else, especially seeing that content little smile knowing she would be rid of her.

She hated to admit it, only Anne knew what she felt towards her mother; she hated her, hated her with all her being, but despite that, she harbored a love for her that she couldn't even put into words.

She always tried to appear worthy in her mother's eyes, even unintentionally, but it was as if everything she did was wrong and branded her as the family's shame, the black sheep tarnishing her father's name.

And that's how Ellie fell asleep, still fully dressed and with tears in her eyes, thinking about her best friend, about what she would leave behind by choosing the Dauntless the next day.

Perhaps it was her time, her opportunity, and she wouldn't let anyone ruin that day for her.

Not even someone she considered a sister.

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

The Feral Princess - Part 4

Marvel AU

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Theme: Soulmate AU / Medieval / Fantasy / Soulmate Marks

Summary: Bucky and Steve have known they were soulmates since they were children. Fate bringing a then sickly Steve and the future King together. War takes them apart and throws them back together over and over, in and out of each other lives, arms and beds. But something is missing and throughout, they know they are missing their third and final piece. The kingdom is now Bucky's and Steve's, the latter now a leader and no longer a sickly child. Both are war heroes, with the respect of their country and those that surround it. They are a force to be reconned with, admired and respected within the other royal houses. They could have any maiden or princess they wanted, but they don't want just anyone. They want their soulmate. They want their princess. Even if she is known as The Feral Princess.

Chapter Summary: Bucky starts his journey to fetch the reader.

By the time Bucky arrives at Lionheart you are long gone. Word has spread as to why he’s there and the villagers are in the know.

“She’s long gone!”

“Good luck taming our Tulip.”

“You won’t find your princess here your majesty.”

Bucky wonders if it’s a ploy. If they’re simply saying that and you’re hidden somewhere in the castle. He knows in his heart though that you aren’t. Thinking back to the day he met Steve, he had felt his mark get warmer and warmer until he had found him, squaring up to a bully twice his size, Bucky’s mark burning on his ankle. He wonders then if you’ll have the same temperament. From what he’s heard, you’re probably even more of a handful than Steve. He sighs at the thought. Steve would fight a bully. You would apparently stab them without a second thought.

When he arrives at the first set of gates he finds them heavily armoured, much more so than when he had visited as a child. His horse, usually obedient and sturdy rears up and becomes unsettled. As do those of his travelling companions. Natasha rides forward from their group and stands to his right. She goes to speak but Bucky is quick to stop her.

“Do not ask me again if I am sure Natalia.”

Natasha’s mouth snapped closed. Bucky moved his horse to allow him to knock on the heavy gates, glancing up at the guards of the tower who is clearly ignoring their presence. Before he has chance to knock both the gates begin to open, startling them all.

Bucky leads them through into the Barbican. He discovers it now has another set of gates at the end. Again they are heavily armoured and closed. The gates behind slam shut when the last of Bucky’s knights enters, causing the horses to startle and for them to be plunged into darkness.

The group were experienced, hardy fighters, and it doesn’t take them long to get their horses under control. Each held their reins tightly with one hand, with the other gripping their weapon of choice.

A fizzling sound is heard as the fire torches alight one by one. When the room is lit Bucky notices a hunched over and hooded figure in the corner. Their head is dipped, the hood and shadows making it hard to see their face. The voice that comes from it is deep but well spoken, and a little familiar.

“Purpose of your visit.”

“I come to fetch my soulmate, future wife and queen.”

He can’t be certain but he’s sure the figure is smirking.

“This way," The figure replies, a hint of amusement in its voice.

The second gates begin to open and daylight streams through. Bucky blinks to help his eyes adjust. He hears Natasha muttering something in their old tongue and he quickly sees why. In the courtyard are lines and lines of soldiers and knights in Lionheart colours. Every single one is almost the same build as Bucky, they are all battle ready and armed to the teeth. There’s a least a couple of hundred and Bucky knows from battle and rumour there are more somewhere.

It’s eerily quiet as the hooded figure leads them through the courtyard. None of the soldiers or knights move or glance at them. Bucky wonders if some are holding their breath due to the lack of movement.

“You wait here.” The figure says gesturing at Natasha and the others knights, leaving them standing between the lines of Lionheart’s finest. “You, your majesty, this way.”

Bucky unmounts his horse and passes the reins to Natasha. He glances up the castle walls and sees the lines of archers along the top, each pointing arrows towards them.

He knows he’s never going to hear the last of this from Natasha.

Bucky follows the figure through the stables, past one of its many armouries and through what seems to be the royal boot room. There are riding boots, cloaks and swords of all sizes and he quickly spots a cloak in Loxley green. A spare of yours perhaps?

The figure comes to a stop at a door and pushes it open as it steps inside. Bucky follows.

The first thing he notices is how warm it is, the large open fire roaring and filling the room. In front of it is an ornately carved wooden chair and desk. The banner of Lionheart hanging above the fire indicating the room is Richard’s.

“Take off your cloak James and make yourself at home.”

The voice was deep and firm. Richard. Bucky turned abruptly expecting to see that the other king had entered the room behind him but finding only the figure from before. Bucky went to speak but stopped as the figure rose from its hunched over stance and grew in size. It turned away as it untied the cloak, pulling it off and hanging it on a hook on the wall. Bucky recognised the figure, now man, instantly.

Easily over six feet, broad shoulders and a strawberry blonde beard scattered face, hair that met his shoulders but lighter than his beard. Hair that gave likening to a lion.

Richard of Lionheart.

“So, I hear you want our Tulip.”

Meanwhile deep in the forest 100 miles from Loxley.......

"How many times will we be moving? Lionheart, Loxley, now here. Should I unpack or not bother? " Lady Dawn asked, sarcasm filling her tone.

"We have to be one step ahead and I did say you didn't need to come." You quipped back.

"And miss you in a white dress and a veil? Never."

You and Lady Darcy snorted with laughter. Little John approached, having recently joined your travels at your Uncle Robin's request. He cleared his throat to announce himself.

"The traps are set Tulip."

"Thank you John."

"Out of interest, and for plans sake Princess, should I send the men on to scout another location?" John asked enquiringly.

"No John, this will be our last spot. Let him come. Let him find me."

Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

TAGLIST

@animegirlgeeky @sebastians-love @mrsevans90 @salvatoremeanssaviour @forgotmenotsexy @thriving-n-jiving @abaker74 @otterlycanadian

[wardenparker]

Sassenach and the Spaniard - Epilogue

Pero Tovar x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Delirious with sickness and near to death, Pero Tovar finds himself on the doorstep of a village outsider who nurses him back to health just before the winter snows descend. With a black cat for company, a mask on her face, and a biting wit that intrigues him, Pero comes to find out that his new companion is more than what she seems.  ✨  Inspired and influenced by Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander series. ✨ Reader is described as disabled and having hair long enough to cover part of her face.  

Rating: Mature, but as always this blog is 18+ Word Count: 7.5k Warnings: **Blanket warnings for this fic include cursing, food mentions, references to previous sexual assault (multiple characters).**  Apologies for the possibly dubious Spanish in this chapter, and a little suggestive dialogue up front, but no other warnings. Summary: The first people you and Pero meet in Spain come bearing remarkable and unexpected surprises. Notes: Immense thanks to all of you for following along with this little trip through time. It has been such immense fun to explore in two universes at once, and so gratifying to build a family that very literally stands the test of time. Every time we embark on a new story we take a chance by stepping into the unknown, and every time it’s wonderous to see how lovingly you all respond. 🧡💛✨

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14

Nine months was honestly less time than you thought it would take to get everything ready to move, especially with Beth and Will’s wedding planning underway. But their wedding was now an entire month ago, and you have unpacked every box in the ‘new’ Tovar farmhouse which is still well over a hundred years old. All of the amenities and utilities are up to date and the contractors had done an amazing job redoing the kitchen prior to your arrival, and Pero’s adventure in building permits and historical society red tape have led to some interesting situations in restoring the thousand-year-old farmhouse that he was born in.

First thing every morning - all four of them that you have been here for - he goes out to the old farmhouse and works from after breakfast until sundown clearing out all the many years’ worth of muck and build up in the place. It had been a barn for centuries, apparently, and then a storage shed, and there are stacks of things inside that require going through before Pero can start in on replacing the roof with an approved, historically-correct thatched one like it had when his parents lived there.

You have been setting up the main house room by room, with the bedroom and the bathrooms coming first, and today you’re tackling the kitchen. The fact that everything is unpacked just means you have towering piles of things on the countertops to find homes for, but you turn on the radio to a local station and get to work. If all goes well, you’ll have things put away and be able to make it into town for groceries to make Pero an actual home cooked dinner for the first time in your new home.

Pero opens the door to the kitchen, sweating and already in search of a drink. Stripping off the thick leather gloves, he walks directly to the refrigerator that he loves and opens the door to grab the carafe of cold water you have taken to keeping in there for him. “It is nearly cleaned out.” He grunts, looking around for a glass. You scolded him when he drank directly from the bottle, so he doesn’t do that anymore.

“Glasses are in the cabinet right next to the fridge,” you tell him, busy on the other side of the kitchen figuring out how to make all of your cookware fit in the open-air shelving. “That was fast, amor. Was it not as bad as we thought?”

“No, it’s bad.” Pero finds a glass and pours it full. Gulping down the liquid in great gulps that seem to echo in the still empty kitchen. “I will have to dig out the flooring— if it’s still there.”

“But the clutter will be out soon, which will be good.” Years of Tetris come in handy when trying to organize cabinets, and you slide the last pot into place before setting your cauldron on the shelf beneath it. The big, cast-iron pot was a gift from Pero and you have every intention of bringing magic back to this home as soon as possible.

“Disgusting.” Pero murmurs, a scowl on his face as he pours a smaller glass. “Using it as a fucking storage building.”

“It will be restored again soon.” You don’t care about sweat or warmth – Valencia’s summers are definitely warm – you wipe your hands and move across the room to hug him. “Your parents would be proud.”

“I hope so.” The area where his mamá had been buried was long since grown over, the plain markers gone. But Pero had cleaned the area up and has plans on marking it with a stone to remember his parents by.

“I’m sure of it.” You would certainly be proud if it was your son returning home after a thousand years to return his homestead to what it once was - you cannot imagine his own mamá is anything less as she looks down on him. “Do you want to walk down to the church later to light a candle for your parents?” According to what you had read, the current stone church in the village was built on the same foundation of the ancient one after it was destroyed sometime in the late Middle Ages, which means it won’t be the same church he was baptized in, but it’s in the same place. “It would be nice to make friends with the priest and see if he will let us look through the old records for your family.”

“Sí.” He knows they have caused a stir, returning and buying the land. But he doesn’t know if any from Arwena and Briac’s brood survived past bearing children or what became of them. It would be good to learn.

“In the meantime…” You give him a concerned look. “Is there anything I can do to help you? I don’t have to do the kitchen today. I can help you in the farmhouse if you want.” Bowie has been at his side all morning, but he isn’t much help with cleaning.

“You do not want to shovel shit and mud out from the house.” Pero shakes his head. “I appreciate it, amor.”

“I would do it if you asked me.” You would do anything he asked you. Even clean through shit and mud. “It’s not like I have a job to go to. I’m at your disposal.” Quitting that god awful office job had been so freeing that you had actually cried. Pure relief at being free to do whatever brought you joy has been a very odd feeling to adjust to.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “You do have a job, amor.” He corrects you. “Tinkering with your herbs and setting up your kitchen. That is your job today. Just like mine is going to be making you cum on that countertop when it is clear.”

“I think being a lady of leisure might suit me.” If a life of tinkering and witchcraft and sex is what it has in store? Yes, please.

Pero smirks, more of a leer as he winks at you. “Happy to provide your deepest wishes, amor.” He promises before he sets the glass in the sink. He still hasn’t gotten the hang of a dishwasher and is scared of breaking the delicate glasses in this time.

“You’ve been doing that since the very beginning, amor.” Leaning across the counter to kiss him again, you huff playfully when the knocker on the front door can be heard loud and clear. “Who could that be?” Whoever they are, they’ll be the first people you’ve met since getting here besides the previous owners of the small farm and your contractor.

“I don’t know.” Pero tenses, his hands automatically reaching for the knife that is always on his body unless he is naked with you. He has relaxed quite a bit since coming to this time, but he’s not sure if he will ever not be on guard when surprised. “Do you wish for me to open the door?”

“I’ll get it. Don’t worry.” Any gossip that’s gotten around will say that the newcomers are from America, so you figure you might as well give the people what they’re so curious about.

Pero moves with you, not trusting anyone who calls unannounced so he will be a hulking shadow behind you. A warning to not try anything with his soulmate.

Neither of you is expecting the heart attack that is waiting for you on your doorstep. At the end of the stone path lined by flowers that leads to your little house, right at your front door when you pull it open, stands a cheerful young couple with a covered platter in their hands and curious smiles on their faces. But more remarkable than anything else is the young woman...who is the spitting image of Arwena Tovar. It's all you can do not to exclaim when you open the door, realizing it isn't actually her only by her height - she is a full six inches taller than Arwena, if your memory of the petite girl serves correctly. "I—um—" Shake it off, you tell yourself, realizing you're staring. "Hola." When you can finally get a single word out, more mercifully following. "Qué tal?" Hi. How are you?

Instantly, Pero knows this woman is related to your family. “Mierda.” He whispers, making the stranger’s eyes flicker to him before she offers a friendly smile.

Alana Tovar nods politely. “Buenos días. Queríamos darle la bienvenida a nuestro humilde barrio.” Good day. We wanted to welcome you to our humble neighborhood. If she is shocked to see an American – she can tell by the accent – she doesn’t show it.

"Gracias, gracias..." You feel like you can barely keep your eyes in your head, but you step back and wave the young couple inside as politely and happily as you can. "Entrasteis, por favor. Vos gustaríais una bebida?" Come inside, please. Would you like a drink?

Alana turns to Jorge and nods when he gives a small nod himself. “Sí.” She murmurs before she offers the platter in her hand to you. “Para usted.” For you.

"We speak English." The gangly young man who steps in after the woman offers you and Pero a lopsided smile. Through his thick accent, he sounds almost like sunshine. Chipper, yes, but also warm.

“Then we will speak English.” Pero murmurs, introducing you first. “My wife, and I am Pero Tovar.” He waves them both towards the chairs you had insisted needed to be in the kitchen and starts clearing off the space in front of them.

“Tovar?” The young woman seems to move as gently as a tree bending in the wind. Clutching the platter still in her hands, she stops halfway to the seat she is being offered and sways on the spot. “I am Alana Tovar.” She introduces herself, obviously surprised by the shared name. “This is my partner, Jorge Reyes. We live just across the street.”

Pero nods, already knowing that she must be related due to her looking so much like her ancestor. “Are you from this area?” He asks, looking over at her curiously. It’s amazing the small differences now that she’s closer, but she could be Arwena’s sister.

“Sí.” Alana nods as Jorge takes the platter from her hands and sets it down on the counter. “My family has always lived here. Please…this is for you. A coca de llanda with orange. It is a family recipe…you would call it a kind of cake, I think?”

Just from the name of the cake, Pero’s eyes light up. “It sounds delicious.” Pero tells her immediately. “We must have some. With our drinks. Tea, or coffee?” Coffee has become a beloved drink for Pero despite your love of tea, so there is always both. “We do have ale, too.”

"It is best with coffee." Jorge chimes in, rubbing Alana's shoulders in an act of both pride and encouragement. The young man eyes your Nespresso machine happily, seeing that it is already set up on the counter while you reach into the cabinet above it to retrieve a few cups and plates. "We are curious," he begins, almost like he's unsure if he should ask. "We heard that the people buying the farm were family. But Alana did not know she had any family in the United States."

"Until recently, I did not know I had any family in Spain," you explain, wondering exactly how to tiptoe around the topic. "Of course, my husband was born here."

Pero is ready for the questions, feeling the eyes shift to him. “My family moved around quite a bit when I was younger.” He tells them as if his parents weren’t buried in this very earth less than three hundred yards away. “I have heard stories of family but never met anyone.”

"You are...both Tovars?" Alana has set about cutting slices of the delicious looking cake after you pulled out a knife and forks to go with the plates, but pauses to look between you and Pero.

"Sort of?" Setting up a little assembly line at the Nespresso machine, you start to make drinks for everyone. "We are both descended from the Tovar clan very distantly. Many generations back, we each branched off from the main family tree. I was not born a Tovar at all."

Pero chuckles, wondering what they would say if they knew he was the patriarch of the family and yet not related by blood at all. You are— but that is a different story. “We did not know of the connection when we met.” He explains. “We were just…almas gemelas.” Soulmates.

“So are we.” Jorge boasts, placing his hands on Alana’s shoulders again and puffing up his chest proudly. “I knew the second I saw her. Like…like a fairy tale, no?”

“It is.” Pero grins at you, well aware that your story could be a movie thing that you love making him watch. “The Sassenach and the Spaniard.” He teases, reaching out and squeezing your hip.

"Sassenach?" Alana asks, recognizing the word from her favourite American television show but not knowing why he has said it.

Pero rolls his eyes over to you, smirking. “It means outsider.” He explains. “She called herself that when we met. After insulting me and sparking my interest with her witch’s tongue.”

"He also calls me bruja," you volunteer, laughing about it slightly as you pass out demi cups of espresso. A part of you is curious about just how many witches are even in your family line, but you pass it off as a joke for now. There's no use in raising alarm bells with your neighbors and far-flung cousin right off the bat.

Alana nods knowingly. “If you are a Tovar, that is a part of your charm.” She chuckles. “We come from a long line of brujas, though most of the knowledge is lost.”

"Are you—?" Not expecting her to be so forthcoming, you must look as shocked as you are excited. "Do you...practice magic?"

Jorge’s smile turns a little defensive, a move Pero recognizes instantly. He is not magical, but he is protective of his soulmate. He understands it, even today there is a stigma.

“I have managed to—”

“Cielo.” Jorge whispers, shaking his head warily. You are strangers after all, even if you are distantly related.

"It's okay." You promise him, realizing that there are plenty of people in the world who would judge Alana for the gift she has inherited. From under your shirt, you pull a necklace that bears a pendant with the symbol of the triple goddess stamped in pewter and show it to the younger couple. "I have practiced for a very long time." That is an odd sort of understatement. "You have nothing to fear from us, I promise."

Alana reaches over and lays her hand on top of Jorge’s. “I have a feeling about them.” She promises her soulmate, giving him a look that said more than what her words could.

“We both practice.” Pero offers, although he does not wear the pendant you do. “What is a soulmate bond if not magic? Anyone who will judge for having more is simply stupid.”

"Actually, I have something you might be interested in." Glancing back at Pero, he gives you a nod before stepping aside, knowing what you intend to show this new girl. She reminds the two of you so much of Arwena that he understands your eagerness to share with her, even if he would probably be more guarded by himself. "Not all of our family's knowledge has been lost. And my Spanish is not good enough to be able to read everything in this book. Pero has read through things with me, but you might, well..." You shrug, producing a large box from the cabinet beneath the open shelves where you had been storing cookware not twenty minutes ago. "This belonged to my grandmother, and she left it to me."

The gasp Alana let’s is overshadowed by the sound of breaking porcelain. “Mierda!” She hisses, jumping up from where she had dropped her coffee cup and shattered it on the ground. “I am so sorry! perdóname!” Forgive me!

"Está bien. Calmate." It's okay. Take it easy. Though you hadn't necessarily expected that big of a reaction, you can absolutely understand it. Pero jumps forward to clean up the broken cup and you put your hand on Alana's arm in reassurance. "I do not believe in coincidences anymore," you tell her and Jorge honestly. "Everything that has happened in my life has happened for a reason. So perhaps one of the reasons I have this is to be able to share it with you."

“I have—that book.” Alana is emotional and nearly tearing up. “I have heard stories about the book my entire life.” She explains. “My mother told me that the book was not shared anymore because one side of the family traveled away. But that it would come home someday.”

"I looked into my ancestry." The grimoire is heavy and delicate, but you lift it from the box and set it on the clear counter with care. "My branch of the family left Spain hundreds of years ago and has traveled extensively. So there is more than just English and Spanish written here, but...it is all our family."

“You did not keep the Tovar name?” She asks, curious as to how your ancestors worked. “On my side, there is a tradition if it was the last daughter, the soulmate would take the name Tovar.” She tilts her head. “Although your family kept the tradition of naming a girl after the original soulmates.” She hums turning Pero. “As did your parents. There is a generation of boys and girls with your names in our family for as long as I can remember. I was upset as a little girl that my sister had your name.” She gives a quiet laugh and shrugs. “But Alana suits me.”

“A—a tradition?” Trying not to seem overly gobsmacked, you can’t help the wonder in your eyes as you reach for Pero’s hand and hold on tight. “I had no idea…” How could you be so entirely clueless as to these traditions and yet be at the very center of them? There are swaths of boys and girls in your family named after you and Pero and yet you had no clue. “My mother kept me entirely separate from our family. She…she believes magic is dangerous. But I think it is a miracle.”

“She must have believed at some point.” Alana’s heart hurts at the idea of being kept separate from her family and she reaches out to clasp your hand over the cover of the grimoire. “Otherwise you would not bear our ancestor’s name. The stories say she was a powerful bruja. Her and her soulmate.” She bites her lip. “I have the history of our family, the ones who stayed in Spain – if you would like to see it.”

“Oh yes.” Nodding immediately, you place your other hand on hers and squeeze gently. Reassuringly. “We would love to see that. A-and…to hear the stories? If you know them?”

Jorge chuckles, making Alana fluster. “My soulmate loves collecting stories about the family.” He promises, reaching over and rubbing her shoulder affectionately. “She will talk about it all day.”

“We would love to hear them,” you promise her, water rising slightly behind your eyes as you look up at Pero. To think that Arwena and Briac founded an entire family line – a proud one that still exists in multiple forms to this day – is both mind boggling and somehow unsurprising. As if their love had reached through time and twined your family together all on its own. “Any time you would like to come over and look through the book and tell stories. Please…we are family.”

“I was curious and happy when I leaned a Tovar had purchased the property.” Alana admits with a smile. “We had wished we had been able to afford it, but this better.”

“We were meant to be brought together; I think.” She truly looks so much like Arwena that you just want to reach out and hug her, but that intimacy must be built first. Something tells you it will not take long, but it is still best to give it time. “I will make another coffee and we can sit together? Share stories? The grimoire has many of them. And perhaps if we sit long enough our cat will come out of hiding to say hello.”

“Cat?” Alana perks up and smiles. “Have you found another one? There are so many running around the properties.”

“We found a few living in the old farmhouse.” It had not thrilled Pero at the time, but a stray black cat is a thing close to your heart so he had just huffed and shooed them out - only to put water and food out for them by your back door later on. “We also brought our cat from the US. Bowie is around here somewhere.” Probably mousing, as he has already discovered plenty of prey to chase. Or else exploring his new home.

“We have always found black cats around the property. My abuela said that the familiar of your namesake became her daughter’s and they are all descendant from her. Binx.” Alana chuckles. “My own cat is named Binx.”

“They’re all from Binx?” The few seconds you take to steady yourself while reaching for a new cup and saucer from the cupboard isn’t nearly enough, but it allows you to share a loaded glance with Pero. “The original soulmates…” you ask when you turn back around. “Do the stories say what powers they had?”

“She had the power of fire, healing.” Alana smiles dreamily. “She saved Pero’s life. He was a warrior and fiercely protective over his bruja when he learned who she was to him.” It’s a story that is often told at family gatherings like weddings, so she is very familiar with her favorite love story. “He was different. He had no magic before her, but he learned. He could move things through the air. And—” She gives a small laugh. “You will say it is crazy, but the legend says they could travel through time.”

“Oh my god…” This time it’s you who drops the dainty cup from your hand, but it clatters onto the counter with no harm done as you reach for Pero beside you.

“Did you— have you heard a version of this?” She asks excitedly, leaning forward with hope shining in her eyes. “Isn’t it romantic? The story my abuela told me was that Pero learned magic so he could follow her. She was sick – unable to be healed and went to a time where she could be saved and he followed when he learned how.” She sighs softly and reaches for Jorge’s hand. “The story is told every time someone gets married in our family.”

“Every time?” You look up at Pero in wonder, wrapping your arms around him before looking back at Alana. “Do the stories say what time she traveled to? By any chance?”

Pero crushes you to him, overwhelmed by the realization that the two of you have been immortalized into this family’s legends. Stories are told to little ones, much like he had been told as a child. His breath catches and he blinks several times, his eyes wet. The two of you may have never had children together, but you are the matriarch of generations.

“That part gets complex.” Alana huffs. “No one can decide. Some say they lived in the 20’s but I believe they must have still be yet to come. How else would she be able to be saved if not for modern or future medicine?”

“I suppose it depends on what she was sick with.” The way you and Pero are holding on to each other is like you’re clinging to a lifesaver in the middle of the ocean. “But that is…it’s not so unbelievable, is it? If magic is real, then surely anything is possible?”

Alana contemplates that and nods. “You are right. I wish I could know what it was like, what they were like. It must have been amazing.”

“I think it must have been very scary.” Terrifying, in fact, but you don’t know how these two sweet young people would react to knowing that it’s you they have been hearing about for so long. “Imagine being stuck out of your own time like that.”

“So you think that it is true? That she was a time traveler?” Alana smiles happily, having been met with disbelief if she talked about it with people outside the family. “Then if he followed her, he would be outside of his own time.”

“Yes…he would.” You look up at Pero again and a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “And think how happy he would be to come home again.”

It takes her a moment. A long pause as Alana thinks about your words before there is a small, but poignant inhale from the younger woman. Her eyes are bright and shiny, and she nods knowingly. “Yes, I think that it is beautiful.”

“It would be nice if it could happen.” Jorge concedes, shifting in his seat beside his soulmate. He sees the happiness in her eyes but knows how attached to the love story of her ancestors she is. “But I would be overwhelmed, I think, if I were him. A whole modern world? Qué terrible.” How terrible.

“It is not that bad.” Pero huffs under his breath. “This time has indoor plumbing and ice cream.”

It takes a second, but Jorge’s eyes slowly move up to Pero’s in shock. “You mean…?” He croaks, fingers digging into Alana’s shoulders. “Dios mio, it’s true?”

The cat seems to be out of the bag, so Pero sees no harm in admitting it. He turns towards you, his frown would seem harsh if it weren’t for the softness in his eyes. “I would have torn time apart to be with my bruja again.”

“Te amo.” The words are soft in spite of your fierce pride in him, and you angle your chin up to kiss him before turning back to Alana and Jorge. “If you require proof, I understand.” Honestly, it would be insane for them not to. “The box on the end of the counter? That is my handwriting on the outside. Compare it to the first dozen-ish pages of the grimoire.”

“It is—” Alana nearly leaps off her seat at the counter to compare the writing. Not because she doesn’t believe you, but because she wants to.

Jorge is half a breath behind her, dragging over the box bearing your list of items inside written neatly on one of the flaps. It was how you kept organized during packing. “It is identical…”

Pero hums, knowing that they will want to see proof that he is who he says he is, so he turns and walks out of the kitchen, making his way to the safe that contains the clothes that you and he arrived in this time in.

“It’s true that he saved my life.” You tell the younger couple as Pero makes his way to the basement to retrieve his proof. “When I arrived at the hospital in this time, the doctors said another day or two might have been too long.”

“Is it true that he could not come with you? That he had to learn magic to follow you here?” Completely enthralled, Alana has a million questions for you. “I— this is rude, no? Asking you this? You do not have to answer if you wish.”

"It's okay." It's actually a relief, in some odd way. To meet family that you can share this part of your life with. To be connected to Arwena and Briac again, even a thousand years apart. "You can ask. If I'm able to answer, I will." The slices of cake and cups of coffee sitting on the counter have been neglected but you pick up your fork, deciding that food and drink makes everything a little more palatable. Socially, at least. "Yes, it's true that he had to learn magic to follow me. He spent a year learning before he traveled back to the Stones to follow me through history."

“Oh my god, it’s true.” Alana squeals, clearly overjoyed to learn that the stories that she had heard growing up were true. “I— how long has he been here? How long were you there?”

"I was there for eight years." Your first bite of Alana's torta is shatteringly good, and you muffle a groan while you chew. If this is a family recipe, you want to go back to whoever made it first and thank them personally. "He's been here for...almost a year now. Alana, this torta is amazing."

She beams, smiling happily under your praise and picking up the newly made coffee to take the first sip. “I will have to give you the recipe, unless you created it too?”

"No, your baking is far better than mine." Although you will definitely do your best to replicate this one. It's sensational. "Sugar still hadn't come to Europe then. Pero's discovery of sugar and chocolate has been a lot of fun for him."

“It is the best.” He groans as he comes into the kitchen again, the clothes and armor on his body rather than just showing them. “But I am getting fat.” There had been a snugness to his armor that wasn’t there before.

"I have a feeling that fixing up the old farmhouse will be plenty of exercise." Still, you can't help but smile at the sight of him in his armour. The lopsided expression on your face is both fond and soft. "There's my mercenary."

Pero turns towards the couple and sees their eyes widen. “This is what I am used to wearing. Spending my days on a horse and fighting for coins.”

"Increíble..." Jorge stands from his seat, jaw nearly on the ground as he gravitates closer to Pero with an eye toward inspecting his armor. "Like you just stepped out of a movie..."

“Movie. Yes, I know what that is.” Pero nods, nodding towards the man to let him touch the armor. “This is real, that – the strategy is shit in those movies. No one risks their ass like they show in them.”

"That's how he looked when he dropped off his horse onto my doorstep, near dead with tuberculosis." You tell Alana, shaking your head with the kind of fondness that only time and distance can give a memory. "We saved each other. First him, and then me."

“How did he save you?” Jorge questions, looking up from the armor before he rolls his eyes at himself. “Of course. He sent you back. How did he do that without magic? How did you travel through time?” That has been his burning question whenever Alana would talk about it.

"This is going to sound ludicrous." Telling the story from the outside really does feel a bit crazy, but you shrug slightly when Alana and Jorge both look at you expectantly. "But have you ever seen the show Outlander? Or read the books?"

“Don’t—” Alana gasps, covering her mouth and shaking her head in disbelief. “Do not tell me that is real!” She all but squeaks out her comment and Jorge laughs.

“She loves Outlander.” He confides. “Thinks the Jamey guy is…hot.”

"Last October I went to Inverness with my best friend to see the Stones at Craigh na Dun." You can't help but laugh, realizing in retrospect how silly the whole thing sounds. "I was gone for eight years, but to my friend it was only a few minutes."

“A few minutes…” Jorge shakes his head. Alana looks just as dumbfounded. “This is amazing.”

"And I will never regret it, because it led me to Pero." His hand reaches for yours at the same time you put your hand out to him and you link your fingers together tightly. "But I cannot safely say that anyone should ever try to travel through the Stones. You have no idea when you will arrive in time and when you get to wherever it is you are sent, you could be in immediate and very grave danger. It is...more than I bargained for. I'm just lucky that it turned out well for me."

“If it is not too rude…” Alana twists her hands together. “Is that why— your scar. Did you have it before you went back?” She asks, wondering if it’s a sensitive topic for you. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

"I got it while I was there." You nod slightly, fingers tangled in Pero's tightening slightly. "Before I met Pero. There was...a man that thought he could take advantage of me. He was very wrong."

“Bastard.” One thousand years dead and it still would not be enough for Pero. If he could be certain where the man’s grave was, he would piss on it. “My bruja managed to defend herself, and give me a scar that made me even more fearsome on the battlefield.” He sounds proud because he is proud of you.

"An example of why I would never recommend that anyone travel through the Stones." Beyond the scar and the loss of sight aside, the assault that you had endured was reason enough to caution anyone and everyone against putting themselves in that position. "Best to stay safe, well-fed, and cared for on this side of the timeline."

“I am so sorry.” Alana murmurs, looking horrified by the idea that someone would hurt you. “Hopefully he got his just rewards.”

“He got what he deserved.” You nod solemnly, looking back to Pero. “My husband made sure of that.”

There is a moment where Alana and Jorge just stare at Pero, in awe of what he must have done to put the terrifying look of grim satisfaction on his face. Alana ducks her head. “I am sorry for bringing up painful memories. My – curiosidad – it gets the best of me.”

“Things are better now.” You put one hand softly on Alana’s shoulder and offer her a smile. “To be able to return here, and to see what our family has become? That is worth everything.”

Jorge frowns. “Wait…if you were only there for eight years…did you leave your children behind?” He asks, confused about how they can be Tovars and still have created this legacy in such a short time.

“Your ancestors are a young couple named Arwena and Briac.” If Alana knows so much family history, she may already know this, but you tell her anyway. “They were soulmates, and Wena’s father forbade them from being together. But…we helped them. Briac learned to wield a sword and farm the land from Pero, and I taught Wena to read and write and wield magic. They…became our children, without ever any intention of the thing. When the night came that they needed to run away together, we packed up and left the village with them. From then on, we were a family.” Talking about them brings a wave of nostalgia you hadn’t been expecting and you wipe a tear from your eye. “You look exactly like her,” you tell Alana. “I knew you had to be family the second I saw you.”

“I do?” Alana very nearly tears up at the idea and reaches up to touch her own face. “Is that why you looked shocked when you opened the door? I look like the original Arwena Tovar?”

“You’re taller, but that’s the only real difference.” It’s sweet, how dearly Alana seems to take that fact to heart, and you nod. “It’s probably why I felt we could tell you all of this so easily. You just…you look so much like her I couldn’t imagine that that could have happened by accident.”

“I promise this will not be a tale that I spread.” Alana assures you, not wanting you to be wary of her spreading your story and perhaps having people look at you as if you are crazy.

“Thank you.” You didn’t think that she would, but it’s nice to hear the confirmation aloud. “I am, actually, your distant cousin,” you explain. “I’m also descended from Arwena and Briac. Just…a different branch of the family.”

“The side that apparently went to America.” Alana shakes her head, amazed at how the family has branched. “It’s amazing. A paradox. You are the matriarch and yet you are the descendant.”

“I don’t quite understand it myself.” It’s all too grand and smacks of too much consequence, and every time you think about it too much you reach a point where you start to get wrapped up in it like it’s the plot of a fantasy novel instead of your actual life. “But…all of it led me to Pero. And that’s more than I ever could have asked for.”

“I cannot believe that your soulmate is from a different time than you.” Jorge exclaims, unable to deny that is what you are because of the matching scars over your eyes.

“We usually say that we met while I was on that vacation in Scotland.” Pero chuckles into his sip of espresso when you say it and you shrug slightly. “It’s not like we can tell most people what really happened.”

“She tells people I am…” Pero looks to you when he cannot remember the word. “Antisocial.” He huffs, smug that he remembered it.

Alana and Jorge choke on this revelation for a minute before busting out in a fit of smothered laughter that makes even you giggle. “It’s true, amor. You are most of the time. But you love your family.”

“I do not trust anyone but family.” He corrects, frowning at your judgement of his character.

“Social expectations have changed in a thousand years, that’s all.” Alana points out. “And being able to trust your family is not always automatic. We are lucky to be able to trust each other so quickly.”

“I do not understand why.” Pero shakes his head. “Family should be the ones that you trust most. They are…family.”

You know he’s right, in many ways, but explaining to him that your mother would never accept the truth about who he is and when he is from – that she would probably try to have both of you committed if you told her the truth – had been a very long conversation. Of course he trusted you to know best, but he didn’t like the idea that you could not fully trust your parents to support you.

Pero moves over towards you and his hands slip around your waist, his lips kissing the juncture of your neck and shoulder softly. “I will change back.”

“Be comfortable, amor.” You nod slightly, knowing he will feel the movement next to his head. “I know that tunic cannot be more comfortable than your t-shirts. My sewing was never that good.”

He chuckles quietly and can’t deny that modern clothes are more comfortable. Less itchy than the ones from his time. “I will be back.”

“So what about you two?” Turning back to Alana and Jorge, you feel the slight loss of no longer having Pero at your side, knowing he will be back quickly. Taking off armor never takes as long as putting it on. “What do you do? How did you meet?”

Jorge smirks, his own pride for his soulmate evident on his face. “University.” He explains. “We were taking a class together.”

“I still do not know how we managed to pass,” Alana laughs, sending him a gentle, fond smile. “We did not exactly study.”

“It is not an exciting story, but it was almost as if we knew right away.” Jorge boasts. “The connection, I mean. It – it is beautiful.”

“Every love story is exciting in its own way.” And really, yours is not for everyone. “It is a new beginning. The start of a life together. That is its own kind of adventure.”

“How is he handling it?” Jorge asks, imagining that despite the advantages of this time, the other man must be having moments where he struggles to understand the world he lives in now.

“There are always new challenges,” you admit, wishing as always that you could simply smooth the path that Pero walks in this time. But you know you cannot do everything for him, and he doesn’t want you to. That doesn’t stop you from wishing you could take away the things that make him unhappy. “It will do him good to have friends here. Family. People he can be his true self with. And…more than anything, I think coming home again will be good for him. The barn out there? Or, what is now a barn? That is the house he was born in.”

"That was the house?" Alana's eyes go comically wide, and she whips her head to the side to look out the window that overlooks the stone structure. "That is – it is a thousand years old and is the house that your soulmate was born in? The one where Arwena and Briac lived and raised their children in?"

“Yes.” You can’t help but chuckle a little at how excited all of this makes her, and you’ll admit that a good portion of it is some kind of relief. It had been a worry of yours that making friends here might be difficult – but clearly the opposite was destined to be true.

"That is – wow – amazing." She lets out a chirp of happiness and looks back out the window again. "He has been working out there. Is he – will he turn it back into what he knew it as?"

“He even applied for the permits we need to restore the thatched roof and stone floor.” It is a particular point of pride for you, that Pero is working so hard to restore his childhood home. He’s working so hard and you could not be happier for him.

"Wow." Now it is Jorge's turn to be impressed and he nods. "I will ask if he needs help." He decides, looking eager at the prospect of learning techniques from a thousand years ago. "It would be beautiful to see a perfect example of how a home from that time would be set up."

“Jorge studied architecture.” Alana tells you, her own pride evident in her voice. “You should see the castles he designs and builds for Binx. They are spectacular.”

“You build castles?” Pero steps back into the kitchen, his brow arched high, and he is very interested in the other man’s skills. The fireplace in the old home has been removed and he wants to rebuild it. “They are still being used in this time?”

“For our cat.” Jorge laughs, slightly embarrassed at the mix-up. “Towers for her to climb and scratch shaped like castles. But I build other things. And design them.”

“Alana was saying that Jorge studied architecture,” you explain.

“And I am a builder.” The younger man nods. “Whatever help you need in restoring your home, it would be an honor to help you.”

Pero rubs his jaw, nodding to himself slightly. “I need to rebuild the hearth.” He tells the younger man. “Some bastard ripped it out and boarded over it. Do you want to look?” He offers, knowing that someone who builds for a living might be a good thing since the bastards to tell you what you can and cannot do with your own property have pissed him off several times.

“Absolutely.” Jorge nods and drops a kiss on the top of Alana’s head before hopping off of his stool at the kitchen counter.

“I’m going to show Alana the grimoire,” you tell them, glad to see Pero making a friend so easily. You’re certainly not going to get in the way of it, especially not when Jorge is practically family. “Come in when you get hungry and maybe we can share supper together tonight?”

Pero nods and moves over to kiss you again. “Do you wish for me to start the fire outside?” He asks, knowing that he had planned on roasting some meat you had bought from the grocery store. While it was not the same as wild game, it was still delicious. “Or do you wish to do something else?”

“No, we can cook outside.” One kiss is never enough, and you steal another easily. “We have plenty enough for four, and we can show Alana and Jorge how we used to do things. It will be perfect.” To not have to hide, or to lie, or to pretend at all is a great gift that you did not think you would ever be given in this part of your life. But as always, as if some wonderful force of the universe is looking out for you – you have gotten the blessing that you needed in spite of undertaking something scary. Whatever else comes during your life in Spain, you have Pero at your side and family to spend time with. There is nothing more you could want.

______

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[a-court-of-lust-and-stardust]

Love on Ice Chapter 6: The Second Flashback

@chachachai17 and I hope you enjoy chapters 6 and 7 tonight ❤️

5 years ago, age 21

Elain applied a thin coat of lipstick and fluffed her hair once, checking herself in the mirror a last time before heading downstairs. She felt pretty, and allowed herself to feel a sliver of excitement. As she reached the bottom of the staircase, Elain decided nothing could tarnish her mood. 

On the floor in the living area, Feyre was surrounded by tubes of paint and an untouched canvas. She glanced at Elain, shooting a wink her way. “Where are you going all dolled up?”

Elain blushed and nodded her thanks. “It’s Laverna’s twenty-first birthday. She’s having a party at her home in the Dawn Region. She invited me the last time I saw her at the ice rink. I wasn't going to go but,” Elain rubbed her arm sheepishly. “I figured I might enjoy myself. I don’t plan on being out very long, though.” 

“Who else is going?” Feyre asked, squirting paint onto a glass pallete. She’d chosen a variation of pinks and golds and purples. Brushes were spread widely around the floorboards. 

“Aspen from Winter and Zarah from Spring. They're both ice dancers. We’re not really friends, but we talk once in a while. I thought I could get out of the house and have some fun before the competition tomorrow.” 

“You thought wrong,” Mama said, slinking into the living area with a steaming cup of tea. She didn't spare a glance toward Elain as she sat down on the sofa and said, “The only thing you're doing tonight is going upstairs, taking all of your makeup off, putting on your skating attire, and heading over to the rink for one last practice.” 

Elain and Feyre shared a look. 

“Mama, I haven't really made friends since we moved here,” Elain pointed out gently, ringing her fingers together. “These girls are nice to me and I would like to get to know them better.” 

"You do not need friends,” Mama said, eyes flashing to her face before landing on the television. Mama never looked at Elain for more than a few seconds at a time. 

“I think Elain deserves to build her own connections,” Feyre advocated quietly, spreading gold paint on the canvas. 

“Distractions,” Mama corrected sharply, kicking off her slippers, curling her legs underneath her bottom. The sisters flinched. “Friendships are distractions, and the last thing your sister needs is to be preoccupied.”

“I’m fully prepared for the competition tomorrow,” Elain defended, though her voice had grown shaky. Feyre’s gaze was one of pity. 

“You can never be too prepared,” Mama spat back. “Just this week, you fell during a twizzle. A twizzle! And look at what your sister is doing right now. She’s spending her weekend perfecting her craft. You don’t see her out and about with any companions, do you?”

“That's because they were all busy tonight,” Feyre muttered under her breath, pressing the brush harder against the canvas. 

“And Nesta has been at the studio for nine hours today and she’s still not home,” Mama remarked, sipping from her mug. “That is dedication. Something you surely lack.” 

Elain’s tears dampened her mascara, black streaks running down her rosy cheeks. So much for spending hours on making herself look beautiful. 

“Mama, Elain is one of the most dedicated people I know,” Feyre complimented, smiling sadly at her older sister. Elain shook her head, a silent plea for Feyre to stay quiet. Nothing either of them said would change Mama’s mind. 

Mama huffed, shaking her head. “Then that’s truly a shame,” She glanced toward Elain once more, face void of warmth. “Call your friends and tell them you are not coming. The rink closes in two hours, so you’d best get a move on. And don’t you ever pull a stunt like this again or else you’ll skate until your toes bleed.” 

And when Elain had changed into her sweater and leggings and flung her skating bag over her shoulder, she hadn’t bothered saying goodbye. 

ARTWORK FOR THE CHAPTER BY @chachachai17: Here

DIVIDER BY: @saradika-graphics

[clumsiestgiantess]

Chapter 14 of the Other-world Universe; finally a chance to talk with the ‘giant’ invaders. Why are they here? What do they want? Where are all the people they’ve taken?

all chapters linked here

[Is now a bad time to say I told you so?]

I was up with the sun the next morning.  Partially because of the gleaming sunrise itself, but mostly because I feared the people from my world would return while I was asleep.  It worried me that I hadn’t seen them at all in the time I’d spent there.  I almost wanted them to come back so I could ask what the hell they were doing.  However, the thought of people my own size stumbling upon me while I was unaware and still sleeping was a bit frightening.  I could only imagine how Erica felt.  

Slowly, I stood and stretched out.  My muscles ached from sleeping on the ground, but I preferred the soft earth over the harsh jutting rocks and broken buildings that made up the rest of the nearby landscape.  I quickly scanned the area; nothing seemed out of place, and Erica was surprisingly still asleep.

My knees cracked from disuse as I knelt on the cliffside.  I draped my arms carefully across its edge and rested my head on top of them, smiling fondly as the morning light gleamed on the dewy grass around Erica and me, making everything shimmer.  She seemed so peaceful sleeping there, only a slight frown on her face.  I wanted to stroke her arm, ease her into the day, whisper a quiet good morning and share some sweet moment.  It's a fantasy, Alexis.  You'll only scare her awake.

Slightly disappointed, I shook off the hopeless daydream and backed off of the cliff's edge, turning again to the ruined landscape.  I faithfully scanned the scenery in front of me, double checking that nothing awful had happened in the few minutes since I'd last looked it over.  Am I being paranoid, or did I see something move in that house over there?  I squinted at it — so distracted I barely noticed my small companion waking up.  "Good morning," Erica greeted me drowsily, startling me slightly.  "Did you get any rest last night?  You were standing guard when I fell asleep, and you're still standing guard now."  

I nodded, "I slept a bit in the middle of the night.  I realized that I haven’t seen anyone from my world yet.  I wasn't sure if anyone would come all the way out here in the dark, but I was watching just to be sure."  I paused and turned my attention to her.  Whatever movement I saw before was gone now.  "So, what do we do until my kind show up?" I asked, "Should we try to find survivors in all that wreckage, or..?"  Erica shrugged, "We could try, but the sight of you might’ve scared them off."  "Then let's try to find my people instead," I suggested, "They probably won't come back here since they've already raided the place.  I don't think we'll see anyone if we stay where we are now."

Erica agreed and I offered her my hand.  Once she was settled, I strolled across the destruction below and continued off in a direction I hadn’t explored before, carefully keeping my hand steady along the way.  Erica didn't seem too bothered by this strange method of transportation anymore.  She was strewn out across my palm, laying back, arms propping herself up from behind so she could see the view.  A slight breeze blew through her longer hair, which was whipped up by my steady pace.  If a moment like this had happened before I left, I probably would've cried tears of joy to see Erica so trusting.  Now, it was slowly becoming part of our everyday lives.

After walking for some time, we came across a small town with similar devastation to the city.  It was newer though; skewed dirt was still freshly scattered over the landscape, and voices as loud as my own carried across the broken terrain.  It was so strange to hear them.  I was used to voices sounding smaller in the other-world.  

Before getting any closer, I slipped into invisibility so whoever was there wouldn’t spot me.  A fearful yelp came from my palm immediately afterwards.  Oops, I forgot to tell Erica I was going to do that.  Her tiny feet scrambled over my skin, arms grasping for purchase on a surface that seemingly wasn’t there anymore.  “It’s ok, Erica; I still have you,” I assured her quietly.  With my hand brought up to my eyes, I could see the panic on her face uneasily beginning to fade.  “I- I thought you went ghost-like for a second,” she chuckled in relief, fear still clinging to the edges of her voice.  “It looked like I’d fall to the ground…”  “Sorry, I should’ve warned you.”  Erica nodded slowly.  Carefully, I curled my fingers around her, letting her feel through touch that she was still safe — despite how precarious the view must’ve looked.

She sat rigidly for a few moments, then felt cautiously around herself.  “If you don’t like this-”  “No.  I- I mean no, don’t change back!  Keep yourself invisible.  I’d rather get somewhere hidden first.  Then you can go talk to them.  Stay like this until I can hide, ok?”  I nodded and she glanced back up at me expectantly.  “Oh!  Yes, of course.  I nodded but you didn’t see.”  Erica rolled her eyes and gave me a half smile.  Securing her in my loose grip, I continued on.

There was a large abandoned warehouse near the edge of the town.  Tiptoeing through the rubble, I snuck behind it and cautiously peered between tiny shattered windows.  Through the building, I was able to catch a glimpse of the camp set up by my kind.  Thankfully, I didn't see any captured people like Erica had described.  There were just three 'giants' from my own world, two were milling around a standing laptop while the third kept watch.  I could see why Erica had called them hazmat giants.  Each one was wearing a sterile white suit.  From afar they looked like bedsheet ghosts.

"Alright," I whispered in my hiding spot, "You stay here and I'll go try to introduce myself."  I eased Erica to the ground and she slid off my hand.  "Don't you have god powers or something?” she asked me nervously, “Just go over there and mind control them."  "That only works on people from your world. Those guys are from mine, so I can't do anything to them," I explained. She sighed, glancing in their direction before looking back up at me. "Fine, just don't get yourself captured, please."  Sneaking carefully out from behind the warehouse, I hid in the forest nearby for a few moments and readjusted my position.  That way it would seem like I'd come from a different direction, just in case these people wanted to follow my trail.  If they did, it wouldn't lead them to Erica's hiding place.  

As I approached the campsite, the person who was keeping watch turned to me and pulled off their face mask in shock.  They stood dumbfounded while I paced closer to the outskirts of the camp.  Finally, when I was about six feet away, the watchman returned from his stupor and stopped me.  "Who are you?  How did you get in here?" he demanded with a harsh clipped voice.  Hearing this, the others watching the laptop turned and noticed me as well.  They also pulled down their masks in amazement, their expressions ranging from suspicious to perplexed.

"Hello," I introduced myself nervously, "I'm Alexis.  I came here by..  Well, actually, how did you get here?"  These people were presumably scientists of some kind; they didn't look very militaristic, which was my first guess.  Each one glanced at the others uncertainly.  "We came through a portal," one finally answered.  "You're clearly not one of us," another said, gesturing at my much more normal clothing, "so how did you get in here?"

"I came a different way," I replied plainly, not wanting to reveal too much information.  "By portal, do you mean an actual portal kind of portal?  Like the futuristic sci-fi kind?  You figured out how to make portals and didn’t tell anyone!?”  The three people all looked confusedly at one another.  “What.. are you talking about?” someone muttered, “Who doesn’t know the Portal System?”  I gawked, suddenly feeling out of place — even more out of place than I felt in the other-world. “You a-aren't from the future, right?  I mean, it is still 2024 in our world, right?"  The scientists’ expressions shifted from confusion to unease.  

“2024?” someone repeated questioningly.  I could already feel the panic building up inside me. “You know,” I said nervously, “The year, 2024?”  There was a frighteningly long silence, giving me enough time to realize that they couldn’t be from my world; it froze every time I left it.

Eventually, someone spoke.  “The year is AGR115.”  I had no response for the bizarre date the scientist had given me.  In fact, if their faces had still been masked, I would’ve thought they were a different species entirely — something far more alien.

Strangely, this revelation calmed me.  A short burst of relief flitted through my chest as I realized my own people were not the cause of all the destruction.  At the same time, I had a million questions.  Are these people from a distant future, or another alternate world?  What else do they have besides portals? Can I even stop them from coming to destroy the other-world?

"How are you here?" one of the scientists asked suddenly.  "How long have you survived in this world?  You're too well fed to have been here for very long.  Any person your size would easily starve on the small amount of food available here."  I shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant lest they suspect anything more of me. "Long enough to know my way around."  All of them looked at eachother eagerly when I said that.  "But I'm going to have to ask you to leave.  If what I've been told about you is true," I started, remembering what Erica said about the kidnappings, "then you need to get out."

The scientist closest to the computer laughed.  "What you've been told," they mocked, "by who?  All we're doing is collecting specimens for our research."  "Whole towns of them?" I challenged.  "Why do you care?" the other scientist near the computer asked, "They're not from our world, or by the looks of it, yours neither."

"That's no excuse!  You can't just drag away entire cities full of people!" I cried, outraged.  One of the scientists looked me over suspiciously.  "Exactly how much do you know about this place?  Why do you care?"  The others went quiet, tension quickly building in the air.  The guard suddenly lashed out, grabbing my arms and pinning them behind me, catching me entirely off guard.  He held me still as I struggled to escape.

I readied myself to fight, but stopped short as one of the remaining scientists pushed a button on the monitor in front of them.  The sky ripped open with an unnatural tearing sound.  I'm not even exaggerating.  The empty space in front of us literally broke open in fractures that bent in rippling waves through the air.  

Now THAT'S a portal if I've ever seen one.  Wait.. I recognize this strange rift.  Connections linked up all too nicely in a burst of old memories.  The strange black lightning I kept seeing years ago had looked just like it — only those were small tears barely more than three feet long.  The expanding inky hole in front of me slowly grew to about seven feet tall and five feet wide.  Oh my god, I realized, these people have been trying to get here for years, even before I left!  All the signs were right there! I just didn't know what they meant!

Once the crack stopped opening, the scientists began hauling me towards it.  "Wait!  I'm not coming with you!"  I struggled, but their grip was too strong.  Slowly, they dragged me towards the fractured opening.  If I can't force my way out, then I'll try something else.  I stubbornly dug my heels into the ground and became invisible.  I would've rather tuned intangible to evade their grasp completely, but there was no one close enough for me to control.  Thankfully, that little surprise was all I needed.  The scientist released me in shock, and I made a run for the woods nearby.  I pressed in close to the trees as they searched the area.  Try as they might, they couldn't find me.

Without any clue to where I'd gone, they gave up the hunt, stepped through the portal, and disappeared.  I sighed in relief.  That was too close.  I sat by the woods for a moment to catch my breath. I almost got abducted the same way the people from the other-world had.  "Alexis!"  A forlorn cry rose from the newly abandoned town.  I watched attentively as a small figure made their way through the rubble by the warehouse.

Without thinking, I dashed over to Erica, turning off my invisibility as I ran.  My towering shadow raced over her small form — covering the span of a few other-world miles in under a minute.  I hadn't meant to rush at her; I was only worried because she sounded rather alarmed.  Erica screamed, terrified at my sudden appearance, and braced herself for the worst.  I hovered over her for a few seconds, then backed off once I realized what I'd done.  "Erica, it's just me," I assured her from a bit further away, "I won't hurt you."  She peered up at me from between her raised arms.  "Sorry I ran at you like that.  Are you alright?"  

Slowly, Erica stood and brushed herself off.  "What the hell!  I thought you were one of the hazmat giants coming to kill me!" she yelled indignantly.  "Don't fucking scare me like that!  I thought they took you!"  I turned towards the scientists' empty campsite.  "Is now a bad time to say ‘I told you so’?  I knew they wouldn’t listen to me."  Erica just glared at me.  "Did you at least tell them to leave like I asked?"  I nodded, "I did tell them to leave, yes.  I doubt they took it seriously, though.  In fact, they had the audacity to laugh at me when I asked them why they were taking people!"  

Erica’s expression rapidly shifted from annoyance to intrigue.  "Did they tell you why?  What are they doing to them?"  I shrugged, "They didn’t say much before they grabbed me, but one of them said that they were 'collecting specimens for their research', whatever that means."  Erica shuddered, "Nothing good, that's what it means."   A response was on the tip of my tongue, but my stomach interrupted me with a hungry grumble.  One thing the scientists did get right: there wasn't nearly enough food here to keep me full.

Erica gave me a sideways glance, and I sighed.  "I know I said I wouldn't leave you for anything, but.. I have to get food somewhere.  I need to go back to my world, only for a few seconds to grab something to eat.  Then I'll come right back."  "Here?  Now?" Erica asked, uncertain. "You're leaving me in this abandoned town?  What if the hazmat giants come back?"  "Would you rather I take you back to the mansion?  Or, what's left of it?"  She hesitated for a moment, then nodded.  We made the trip back in silence, but once I returned Erica to the familiar cliffside, she spoke again.  "Can't I come with you?  Just in your pocket or something?"  

She really was desperate, but I had to refuse.  I couldn’t risk bringing her to my world.   Who knows what might happen to her, being dragged into a world where she’s not supposed to exist.  Erica hadn’t undergone the electrocution or strange falling sensation I had been through to get to her world.  She hadn’t spent the weeks, even months, that I had taken to adjust to the difference in scale between our worlds.

"I.. I can't."  "Why not?  You get to come to my world, but I can't see yours?" Erica asked annoyedly.  "What are you hiding?"  "Nothing!" I replied, a bit too quickly.  Erica's expression only grew more skeptical.  "It'll take a while for you to adjust, and we don't have time for that.  I don’t even know what’ll happen to you when you cross over.  I'll just go there, grab a few things, and come right back.  Ok?  Ok."  I vanished before she could say anything to stop me.  

Regret was instantaneous.  I told her I'd stay by her side no matter what.  And I left again. However, I was practically starving.  So despite my promises, I had to leave.  At top notch speed, I raced into the kitchen, gathering anything edible that would last for a while, not wanting to go through this again.  It’s not like I’m leaving to go live in my world, I’m just grabbing more food to eat. She can’t be upset at me for that.

Both my father and grandmother tried to stop me again to ask what I was doing.  This was, after all, my second time gathering up food within what must have been a few minutes to them.  I ignored everything, grabbed an entire loaf of Wonder bread, and ran back downstairs as fast as I could.  I heard my father follow me to the basement doorway, but I'd run too far downstairs for him to catch me.  In my hurry, I almost ran right past the table, but I skidded to a halt at the last second and zapped away the moment I felt its energy.

Erica was still standing right where she had been when I left, open-mouthed in shock.  No more than fifteen minutes could have passed since I’d vanished.  I guiltily set down my stolen food.  "I can't believe it," she whispered in awe, "You actually fucking left me.  Even when you SWORE TO ME YOU WOULD NEVER!  Also, what the hell are you hiding from me?  Don't give me that bullshit about 'not adjusting to your world' or whatever.”  “I’m not hiding anything!  I just don’t want you to get hurt!”  “Why are you keeping secrets from me?"  "Oh, like you don't have secrets of your own?" I shot back, giving up on reasoning with her. "Tell me, what exactly have you been doing the last few years?  Why did I come back to find you all chained up, huh?  I'm dying to know the story behind you and John; which you very conveniently haven't told me yet."  

Erica stood seething at the edge of the cliff, looking about ready to strangle me.  "I don't have to tell you everything!  You don't get to know every little detail about my life!  I'm not your puppet anymore!"  "Well, if you want to keep your secrets so badly, why won't you let me keep mine!?"

Our argument silenced as Erica tried to find something to spit back.  After trying, and failing, to counter my point, she turned on her heels and marched away.  With an angry huff, she picked up her things and stormed off, setting up a new camp further down the mountain, out of sight.  All I wanted was something to eat, I thought bitterly as I bit into one of the items I'd stolen from the kitchen.  It's not fair.  She can keep secrets, but I can't?  I don’t even have any; she just assumes I do because I told her no!  Who does she think she is, forcing me to stay here?  Can't she see that I'm going to starve if I stay?  

The rest of the day passed by in long, silent hours.  However, my anger faded to worry once the sun began to set.  Erica was still gone.  I waited at the cliffside for a long while, furious that I was concerned for her even though she was being incredibly unreasonable.  I was beginning to contemplate going after her, when I turned and found her standing behind me.  She looked slightly guilty, as if she'd been there for a while, working up the courage to come talk to me.  

"Alexis, I-  I’m sorry," Erica began.  "You were probably starving when you left, I get that, but..  I just.. I can't be alone."  I thought back to everything we'd said to each other and sighed.  "Thank you, but you were right.  I broke my promise to you.  You shouldn't be the first to apologize.  I left you out here when you were feeling vulnerable, and I could've sacrificed at least a little more time to make sure you felt safe.  I'm sorry."  

Erica gave me a look I couldn't quite read, her expression slightly masked by the growing darkness.  "But that's the thing," she laughed uneasily, stepping a bit closer.  "I wasn't even mad at you for that, just scared for myself.  I just.. I want to stay with you.  Even through everything that happened before, at the lake."  Something about the forlorn way she mentioned that awful day made me shiver.

"I don't know why I feel like I need you with me, but I do.  And I don't know if it's because of the shit I've gone through, or if I genuinely just feel comfortable spending time with you, or both."  Erica sighed, fidgeting with her hands.  She edged closer to me, unsure if I'd let her come any further after the way she'd silently brushed me off earlier.  I carefully knelt on the ground below so we were more level with eachother.  With us on more even ground, Erica's gaze slowly lifted to meet mine.

"Do you think I trust you out of necessity?  I mean, I have nowhere else to go.  And I know for a fact that I wouldn't survive on my own."  The last few words died on her tongue as we silently gazed at eachother for a small eternity.

Finally, she stepped forward a miniscule amount and added, "Don't get me wrong, I hope I feel this way because, well, I like you, but.."  Erica struggled for words, so I finished: "but you can't really trust a monster."  She flinched.  "Monster?  You really think of yourself like that?" Erica asked, sounding so genuinely confused she was confusing me.  "Well, yeah, don't you?  I-  You remember why I left, right?  I am a monster.  I've hurt people, killed people, and didn't give them a second thought.  An unstoppable murderer with no compassion towards who they've killed — that's what I am.  How you could ever trust me, I have no clue."  The pieces suddenly clicked in my mind as I said it aloud.  

"Oh," I whispered in realization, "That's why you don't want me keeping secrets.  Then you can't trust me."  Erica seemed a bit shaken after my explanation, and I turned away, ashamed. My back pressed uncomfortably into the rocks behind me as I slunk back down the cliffside.  After an unbearable silence, I assumed she'd left.  Maybe she finally realized how itiotic it is to stay with me.  She’s so strong, I’m sure she can take care of herself, even if she doubts it.  All she has to do is take one of the abandoned houses.  Those strange invaders shouldn’t come back here, so she’ll be.. somewhat safe.

A shadow moved suddenly to my right, and my heart nearly flew from my chest at the jumpscare it gave me.  I went completely still, and I could've sworn even my heart stopped beating.  Erica dropped down over the cliff edge onto my shoulder a few inches — or in her case, feet — below.  She carefully walked along my shoulder, using the rocky slope to balance herself, and sat down right in the crook of my neck.  I had to fight to keep from shuddering; both the sensation of her small footsteps and her cold touch were enough to send goosebumps down my arms.

"Sorry if this is weird," she whispered, "I just didn't know how else to comfort you."  Her hand pressed against my neck, and then I couldn't help but shiver.  I knew she could feel the vibrations it caused, being so close to me.  Erica could probably hear my heart beating too; it thrummed faster the longer I thought about it.  "You can change; I know you try," Erica told me softly, "You're.. different now.  A good difference, though," she added quickly.  "Or maybe it’s me who’s seeing you in a different light...  And even if you think you’re a monster, I wouldn’t have anyone else to protect me but you."

I smiled slightly in spite of myself.  The warm, fuzzy feeling that came from Erica's small form pressed against mine created enough serotonin to last me for days.  It could almost, almost, cover up our fight earlier.  Guilt has always been something I’ve never been good at pushing away.

The night stretched on as I thought over what she’d said.  Doubt settled on her resonating words still playing through my head.  "Aren't I the only person you can have here with you?" I whispered into the empty silence. Erica had long since fallen asleep, passed out down the length of my shoulder. She couldn’t have heard me.

She'd choose me over no one — over the empty houses and dead men I left behind in the city.  That's not really much of a competition.  What Erica said earlier...  What if she really does just need me for survival?  She's so impossibly small.. Is it too much to hope that she might feel how I do, but in reverse?  Erica said it was because she hoped she liked me, but how could she feel anything for someone, something like me?  How could she love someone from another world — the same type of being that was stealing off her own kind, albeit from a weird future?  No, she just needs my protection, that's all.  Erica's already been through so much; she needs someone trustworthy by her side.

I lovingly slid Erica's little form off of my shoulder and into my hand.  Her tiny breaths rose and fell rhythmically in deep sleep, pressing against the surface of my palm.  I had to take a moment to keep my soft longing from turning into heartbreak.  I wasn’t sure why my heart suddenly stung with longing.  What am I hoping for?  Why do I feel like I miss her?  Erica’s right here, right with me. I shouldn’t be sad.

Gathering up the sleeping bag, I placed her gently back on the cliffside next to me.  If only she could stay asleep at my neck; I wouldn't even mind sleeping upright, but it was too risky.  Any subconscious shift I made could hurt her, or send her tumbling off.  After resting Erica safely on the lawn, I lay down and stared at the stars.  Even if Erica does realize she's only staying with me to keep herself safe, I'd still be just as happy to protect her either way.  

With the wonderfull notion of a long term stay in the other-world fresh in my mind, I happily drifted through heartening daydreams until sleep got the better of me.  My world could wait a while longer.

[momolady]

A List of Things Not Yet Written

Here is the list of things I want to write that may inspire commission ideas or even inspire you to write something in general!

First off, I re-read Himley the Mad Hatter recently, and I have been filled with this deep, horrible desire to go back and make it better. The bones are there in the story, but it is jumbled, wordy, and I know I could do such a character justice. I want to rewrite it so bad. This may be the top of my list of projects I want to do.

It was brought to my attention the story of Bray was never fully closed. I would like to both rewrite his first chapter and continue it.

The Minotaur clan in the Ruby Empire was once a huge idea for me, but it had to fall to the wayside. Claudio was the only one I got to talk about from that neck of the Ruby Empire wood, and I would like to go back and visit it.

Most of the Ruby Empire needs to be retconned and rewritten, but no one could afford o fix that mess, so moving on.

I need to finish the Levi rewrite now that I'm on it.

I also wouldn't mind revisiting my first monster story, the Strawberry monster. 

This one was an ask on Tumblr: "A homeless girl arrives at Hearthway Hollow with only but her  guitar and optimism to make money, not knowing about the traditions or  even knowing about the werewolves." 

A former magical girl who supposedly died but has been turned into a cyborg, whose power over music is now a powerful mind control power. That's all I've got, just a character.

Anothe tumble ask: "a goblin thinks he is getting catfished, after an online friend finally sent the first picture of herself." The idea of this sounds so fun, could be any monster. Coudl give me the chance to build a monster dating app.

I've been rewatching Star Trek TNG and Data has been giving me thoughts. So maybe something along the lines of the android and a companion.

A former royal concubine runs away, rather than spend her life serving others. Near death, she's rescued by a man (orc, minotaur, whatever) and his dog. But he lives high in the mountains and supplies are low as is. She agrees to use her skills to keep him company through the long, dark winter until spring thaws the mountain and she can cross the Cobra Strait. 

A short, spitfire thief breaks into the house of a supposedly single woman who is a shut in. The house appears in disrepair and the woman has surprisingly nice things, even if things are cluttered and stacked around. But the thief is caught by the woman, who is quite taller than him. She kidnaps him and keeps him in prisoner in her home where she reveals herself to be a vampire disillusioned with immortality and has been sustaining herself off critters who get into her house. The short thief is just the latest.

Speaking of height difference couples! A short statured fire demon finds himself smitten with one of the ice giant women.

A monster wins a date with the camgirl he admires.

A red riding hood retelling. I'm shocked I've not done that before.

An attempt to clone a powerful, ancient creature results in a monster that seeks revenge on the people who have been keeping them captve and used for experiments. To exact revenge, the monster kidnaps the head scientist's daughter, intending to turn her against her family and humans in general.

I reread Thilo last night and I want to rewrite it. If only for the fact the reader character seemed a bit...predatory.

finish Misinformed! I think i need a couple of chapters to finish the story as it is before i do a rough draft rewrite.

An older woman reconnects with the orc she fell in love with. When Obresh was rescued by the Orcs her family decided to move rather than be ruled by the orcs, separating her from the orc she had fallen in love with. Decades later, she returns to Obresh and finds her former love. The two reconnect and finish what they started.

A halfling monster Hunter gets more than he bargained for when he comes into contact with two powerful and warring vampires.

An isekai story where the MC is sent to various worlds with the stipulation they’ll die if they have sex. So they make a game of it.

See any of these you like? Commission them from me! Or any story you want to see me write for you.

[twistedsimmer]

Week 1: Settling In, Part 2

Thankfully, no one was seriously hurt in the van's sudden crash, aside from an unfortunate pine tree. The settlers now found themselves stranded, and went into action to set up camp. While Jake and Amayata scouted the area, Marf took to salvaging supplies. Emi administered first aid, and Solomon consoled a hysterical Brigette, whose feline companion had fled into the forest after the crash being used as a projectile.

"I'm sorry, Mona, I shouldn't have tried to throw the cat at you. Are you injured?"

"I forgive you. And not really, I just have this little scrape on my knee.."

"*sprays with antiseptic*"

"Ow!"

"Stop being a baby, you don't want to lose a leg to infection, do you?"

By nightfall, the group had cobbled together a primitive campsite. It wasn't perfect, but it was a start.

Not long after, Emi found a new target for her ire: she and Marf began to argue, which quickly escalated into a full-on brawl or two.

Jake, trying to be a responsible leader, attempted to mediate between them.

"Okay. Marf, Emi, I get that you two don't like each other."

"What gave it away? The yelling? Him attacking me?"

"Hey! You jumped me, you psycho!"

"But can you both try to not kill each other before we've completed our task? Please?"

"..Fine. Just keep him away from me."

"Agreed. She can keep her crazy, I just want coffee."

The next morning was much more peaceful. Solomon volunteered to make breakfast, while Amayata dug/built a well with moral support from Mona.

"I can't wait to move out and build my own house. I've always wanted a nice little cabin."

"I doubt you have the skills to build one."

"I'll just have to learn how, then. Got any good tips in your book there?"

"Yes. Stop bothering me and let me study."

When Jake and Marf returned from gathering firewood, they also brought back a lost feline, to Brigette's immense relief.

"Mon cher! Let's get you some food, you must be famished."

"Meow!"

Later in the day, Jake brought Amayata to the secluded clearing he'd found earlier.

"It's so pretty! Just curious, why didn't you and Marf just gather some berries and fish while you were out here?"

"Well, um, we forgot the fishing rods this morning. And neither of us knew which plants are poisonous or not, so I wanted to ask you."

"You chose wisely."

Luckily, all the berries turned out to be edible, and the pond rich with fish. Working together, the pair came up with a bountiful harvest that would feed the group for days.

"Oof!"

"You okay? Hang on, I got you."

"There you go. Are you hurt anywhere?"

"Just my pride. It'll heal."

"Heh, you want me to kiss it and make it better?"

"I'd like that, though I'm not sure where exactly my pride is.."

"I suppose I'll have to keep kissing everywhere until I find it then."

"You smooth-talker, you. I bet you say that to all the ladies."

"No, you'd be the first. Did it work?"

"Very much so."

While sparks flew up at the pond, expletives were flying back at camp as Emi and Marf continued their feud.

"Take that!"

"Ow! Leave me alone, dammit!"

"We're back! What'd we miss?"

"Oh, nothing. Mona's just playing with Brigette's pussy."

"Hmm, sounds like a good time. You didn't murder Marf while I was away, did you?"

"Nope, not this time."

"..okay then."

~*~*~*~

So ended an eventful first and second day.

-> Next Chapter..

[greenapricot]

wip thursday

I didn't manage to post yesterday, but I've decided I can do what I want.

This is from chapter 4 of The Names of All the Winds. The chapter has been giving me all kinds of trouble (and made me realize that I really am going to have to finish a full draft of each chapter to work out the lore before I can post chapter 2), but I think I finally cracked it this morning.

____

The church bells ring out eleven. Robbie stands a moment longer as clouds cast quickly moving shadows across the water, and the chiming of the bells echoes through the narrow streets of the village below, then turns down the path.

The path leads to a street that’s little more than a lane, following the steep slope past stone walls with flowering rosemary cascading over top, and two storey stone houses that look as if they may be unchanged since the first mystics planted the olive groves that stretch up the mountain on terraces behind his B&B.

With all his years living in Oxford, Robbie is well used to old buildings—many of them older than these—but here, it’s not only the architecture, or even the landscape. There is that presence as well. He hasn’t felt it as strongly as he did the day he found James busking in that little out of the way piazza, but it has been there, sort of hovering in the background, ever since the first night he came north. He just hadn’t realised what it was until it mingled with James’ music and led him through the streets.

Robbie’s grown used to the presence by now, even a bit fond of it. It feels almost as if it’s keeping him company while he travels around on his own. Which is a bit mad, the idea of some ancient power wanting to have anything to do with him specifically. Most likely it’s a sign that the stories James told him about the great protector beast that dwells in the depths of the lake have gone to his head.

All the same, it is rather nice to be alone and yet not feel alone. To feel a gentle nudge down one lane or another when he’s got no particular destination in mind and nowhere he needs to go, like a walking companion matching his stride; not unlike the way he and James had fallen into step with each other.

Has Laura felt this presence too, he wonders? Is this why she suggested Lago di Garda as a destination? She didn’t mention it, but then if she had before he was here to feel it for himself, he would have scoffed at the very idea of it. May have even picked a different holiday destination entirely.

[whumpy-bi]

Original Work: The Investigator

Warnings: implied kidnapping to be explored in future installments, disappearances

Words: 1097

Note: this is way longer than most of my other posts, but I wanted to try a more substantial story with my own characters. This is also just going to be a collection of whump tropes I particularly enjoy, so I hope y’all like it too!

Owen had sent the message to his consultant around two in the morning, when he absolutely should’ve been sleeping. But, instead, he was hunched over his computer as usual, multiple tabs open with deep web pages and unmarked files he’d personally found.

This is happening too much to be a coincidence. There’s a pattern here.

Owen opened up his map program again, marking out every disappearance he’d been told about in the last six months. Every victim—they ranged in age and background, Owen couldn’t observe a pattern with them—was last seen in the same area, a long stretch of road across town with an array of local businesses and offices. He knew the street, it was only a few blocks away, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually been there. The authorities had written all of them off as runaways, they had mostly dismissed all of them. But what were the odds of so many people, in so many circumstances, going missing in the same place?

Owen mumbled to himself, resting his head on his hand. “There’s no way. No way.”

He scrolled through the map, watching the road as it moved further and further south into a huge stretch of woods. Miles and miles of empty land, nothing but trees and a single road separating them.. Until—

Owen stopped when he spotted a building from overhead, zooming in and squinting. He typed the address out to his companion, sending it along with a screenshot.

This looks like an old cabin or something. What can you find?

His friend replied within minutes. Evidently, they also couldn’t sleep.

This guy owns it, he’s been real active in the search parties. Owns a big chunk of the land out there. Some kinda survivalist guy, runs a blog about it.

The investigator looked over the link his friend attached, reading the basic information of a social media page. “Benjamin, huh?” He mumbled to nobody in particular. “Looks like he’s got the only property on this road. Guess he won’t mind if I take a look around.”

I’ll head down there tomorrow. Maybe he can answer some questions about what’s going on.

Dude, what if he calls the cops?

I won’t do anything illegal, relax. Just a friendly guy coming by to ask about the area.

You’re not gonna break in again?

That was one time, okay? I swear to god, no break-ins.

Owen did manage to get a few hours of sleep after that, driving out to the cabin a few hours into the morning. Even with the summer warmth and bright sunlight, the expansive forest was beginning to creep him out. He could easily see how people went missing in this—if you lost sight of the road, you could absolutely find yourself stuck in an endless loop of trees and rocks and soil. No distinguishing landmarks, no breaks in the trees to civilization. Whatever search parties went through here, Owen could imagine they might have missed something.

When he pulled up, the house looked well loved. Hydrangea bushes in the front, colorful and watered, a very nice-looking vintage truck in the driveway, and a (somewhat tacky) Memorial Day sign hanging on the front door.

Owen awkwardly knocked on the door under the sign, his jaw shifting as he heard someone fiddling with the lock. The man who opened the door regarded him with a smile.

Owen’s first thought was that he looked like the photo he’d seen—pale, with light brown hair and a thick beard and eyebrows. His eyes were dark, but they looked kind, and Owen felt at ease for a moment.

“How can I help you, mister…?”

“Uh—hi. I’m, uh…Owen Jones, I’m a private investigator. I just had a few questions about—“ He gestured to the forest surrounding them. “The area, I heard you might be familiar with it.”

“Of course! Not to boast too much, but—“ The older man smiled wide. “I’m probably the most familiar with these woods.”

Owen smiled, his expression naturally warm and approachable. “That’s great. I’ve been tracking a couple…disappearances, recently. One of the victim’s families really hopes I can find an answer, you know?”

“Of course, of course. It’s been really tragic, I’ve been helping the police look for all those people. You seen the last one? Poor girl, young. About your age, I think, really horrible. I’ve still been keeping an eye out, myself.”

Owen frowned, nodding in agreement with his words. “Yeah, I did see the woman who just went missing. It’s happening a lot, so—I guess I just need to know if you’ve noticed anything suspect. Anything at all.”

The homeowner rubbed his jaw in thought. “Not that I’ve noticed, unless you count the occasional bear sighting. Some weird noises at night, maybe? But I could be hearin’ things.”

Owen nodded, his hand twitching a bit as he listened. “Well, I’ll give you my card…just in case you do hear anything. Maybe we can stop the next incident, right?”

“I’ll certainly keep an ear out.”

The younger man glanced back at his car, wincing. “Hey—could I use your bathroom before I go? Long drive back.”

Owen blinked slowly as he washed his hands in the cabin’s bathroom, glancing between his hands and his reflection. “Well…this was a whole waste of time, but at least he’s nice.” He frowned, remembering his previous experience with a very angry and very intense mechanic who had once threatened to kill him for daring to ask questions on his property.

As he smirked to himself at the memory of the man’s face, his eyes drifted to the window. The house had a small backyard, a little space of grass before the endless ocean of trees. It seemed nice—a fire pit, a single lawn chair and a bird feeder. But Owen’s eyes locked on something that seemed out of place, under the colorful lawn chair.

A dark metal circle, flat against the ground. It was just barely peeking out from under the chair, but it was unmistakable.

Owen’s mumble was barely audible. “What the hell…?”

He was heading for the front door a few minutes later, adjusting his blazer over his shirt as he walked out. “Thanks for talking with me, Benjamin, i appreciate it a lot!” A canned spiel Owen had said hundreds of times, the friendly words were automatic and (hopefully) convincing. He typed out a text message to his associate, finishing and sending it before he was back in his car.

I’m coming back tonight, something didn’t feel right. I’ll need you to drive in case it goes wrong.